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  Crawford’s slight wheeze as he slept beside him.

  Blair shivered abruptly and held his breath — willing his stomach to cease and desist — and waited until he was sure that Jim was sound asleep before letting himself pull away, his feet touching the floor and taking him into the bathroom. He shut the door and turned on the lights, leaning on the counter over the sink, his body shaking. His knees gave out suddenly, but he had been prepared for that and slowly eased himself to the floor, still holding onto the ledge, his forehead now resting against the edge of the counter. He stayed that way for several minutes, breathing shallowly, feeling his heart pounding way too fast, trying to suppress his whirling thoughts, to push them back to the earlier memories of the basketball game and away from these new images that wouldn’t let him go.

  He was not going to have a panic attack. No way. Not here. Not now.

  For with the images that Jim’s words had painted in his mind of Starkville had emerged other pictures — his memories.

  Of Daniel Crawford, the man who had kidnapped him. And what Daniel Crawford had done.

  He reached out and turned the tap on, hoping the sound of water running would mask his almost-silent sobs that echoed in the white-tiled bathroom. Jim mustn’t hear. He had to sleep. He had finally got Jim to go to sleep and he was determined to deal with this himself. Gasping for air, he collapsed to the floor, curled into a ball, his fists pressed into his eyes, rocking frantically.

  ShitShitShitShitShit

  *

  Simon

  Captain Simon Banks stared at the light under the bathroom door and wondered how best to help his men. Jim Ellison was asleep — finally — probably due to the quiet murmur of Sandburg’s voice that had almost lulled him to sleep. Their voices had been too low for him to hear the individual words, but he had nevertheless heard the pain in Ellison’s voice and he had a pretty good idea what it was they had discussed and what it was that had kept Ellison from sleeping. Probably the same thing that had plagued him for the last few nights.

  Starkville prison had been hell for all of them. It had been more than difficult — almost impossible — to stand and watch his detective, a man who was his close, personal friend, walk away from the fenced fighting area and out into the night. Shoulders down, muscles trembling. Eyes haunted. Ellison had almost broken under the strain, and Simon didn’t want to think of what the man had seen and heard — and experienced — to push him that close to the edge.

  Especially after what had happened with Daniel Crawford such a short time before. Crawford had kidnapped and killed several small children, and then had captured Sandburg. For four days, Ellison had sat at his desk, hardly sleeping, hardly eating, until they had found his partner again. There had only been a few days of grace between Crawford’s capture and Ellison entering Starkville, and it was a testimony to the level of value Ellison placed on his friends that he was able to leave his partner behind during that time. Simon knew it was something Jim and Blair had sat down and discussed carefully between them, and the decision had been mutual. A friend had been murdered, and the Sentinel needed to act. Not that it had been much of a surprise when they had stood in his office and requested permission for Jim to go undercover. Hell, they both came to Peru to look for Daryl and me. What’s that about ‘no greater love’…?

  After all the crap they had been through, Simon had been surprised — shocked, almost — that the two still wanted to go to Vancouver with Daryl and him.

  He had wondered about Sandburg, wondered how he would fare in the hotel room and in a foreign environment after his recent ordeal, and up until five minutes ago, Simon had been amazed at how well Sandburg was holding up. Then he had heard the terrified gasp and had opened his eyes when Blair had tumbled from his bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Even now he could hear the sound of water running and what might be the kid softly crying.

  Well, maybe not crying, he couldn’t tell. Maybe Blair just had an upst stomach. Daryl and Blair had managed to put away a great deal of junk food in a few hours, and the kid wasn’t one for junk food usually. His kid, on the other hand, was a pro.

  Strange how he lumped the two together. His kid and the kid. Both with the ability to turn on the puppy dog charm and con him. No one would ever replace his love for his son, but Sandburg had found a place for himself in Simon’s heart, and the police captain realized he didn’t know exactly when it had happened. Maybe during that whole thing with Lash, seeing Jim carrying Blair from the warehouse, seeing him cling to the detective, drugged, traumatized, terrified. Seeing the trust between them and how much Jim cared about him.

  And if someone had broken through that steel wall and into James Ellison’s life, they were worthy of Simon’s attention. He had known the feelings ran both ways when Jim had been kidnapped the year before and Simon had been left to deal with a frantic Blair, desperate to find his partner and friend. Threaten one, and the other was in your face.

  Jim and Blair were as much family as he was with his own son. Maybe not flesh and blood, but something that ran just as deep — deeper maybe, because there were no familial obligations to hold them together. Something held them though. Something was pulling them closer together, often kicking and screaming, and he knew it had something to do with that Sentinel business. There was no way in hell that the Jim Ellison he had known for years would ever have let someone like Blair Sandburg move into his home and into his life. No… these two belonged together. They loved each other, cared for each other, and worked so well together it was frightening sometimes.

  And right now, that’s what they needed most, to be together. To let time heal the wounds and heal their spirits where they had been ripped apart by events, some of their own choosing, some not. The last two and a half weeks — had it really only been that long? — had been as stressful as any time he could imagine. When Blair was kidnapped by Daniel Crawford, it kept them apart for four days, and then Jim undercover to see why his old high school friend had been killed separated them for five more days. That added up to nine days in that short period of time.

  And there wasn’t much he could do to help them. Simon had tried to keep an eye on the kid while Jim was inside Starkville, but trying to keep track of Sandburg was like trying to stop sand from running through your fingers. It was almost impossible to keep him in one spot. Blair followed his own drummer, no matter what the regulations said. And what was uncanny, was that Simon could sometimes hear the drums now.

  He glanced at the clock on the night table beside the bed. 03:28

  No further sounds from the bathroom. He’d give Blair another few minutes to get himself together.

  Simon had spoken to Jim about the wisdom of the trip, whether it was too early for either of them to be away from home. Daryl would have understood if they had needed to cancel. But both partners had insisted they wanted to go for the weekend, spouting some such nonsense about change being good, about it being a chance to do something again with Daryl. Box seats were not something to sneeze at, especially at GM Place in Vancouver, a huge new facility housing the Vancouver Grizzlies and Canucks. The private suite at the stadium was luxurious and they had been treated and fed well. The hotel room was comfortably sized, with a breathtaking view of the mountains, inlet, and Stanley Park, and two queen-sized beds and a huge jacuzzi tub that would probably never be used, if they stayed to their event-packed weekend schedule.

  Simon sat up in the bed and waited. 03:34. It had been over ten minutes since Sandburg had rushed into the bathroom. And now there was just silence, and silence from that particular young man always unnerved him.

  Another few minutes passed and Simon got up, careful not to wake his son, then moved around the bed where Jim lay snoring, to the bathroom door. He listened for a moment, then softly knocked. “Sandburg?” he whispered, hearing a gasp beyond the door. “Blair?”

  Faint sounds within, then the door opened a crack. “Uh… Sorry, Simon. I didn’t know you needed the bathroom. I’ll be right out.�
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  He couldn’t see the kid, just the thin ribbon of light from the room. “No, I’m fine. I was just concerned about you. Are you okay?”

  “Me? Yeah.” Sandburg’s voice wavered on the last word.

  It wasn’t very convincing. “Do you want to talk?”

  “I don’t want to wake Jim up,” came the whispered answer, followed by a quick gasp of air that sounded like someone trying very hard to keep himself together.

  So there was something wrong.

  Of course there was. “Can I come in?”

  “In here?”

  “I want to talk to you for a minute and I don’t want to wake Jim or Daryl up.” That did the trick. The door opened just long enough for him to get in and close it after him.

  Sandburg was back sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wiping his face with a damp washcloth. “I’m okay. Just having trouble sleeping,” he mumbled into the cloth.

  “At least you got Jim to sleep.” Simon leaned back against the sink counter. “Has he had trouble sleeping at home?”

  Blair shrugged. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his eyes still averted, hair tumbling about his shoulders in disarray. “It’s only been two nights. I slept pretty soundly both nights, just relieved to be home again, back in my own bed. Jim said he had slept well, but it’s been hard to tell, since he still looks tired. I thought maybe he just had a lot of catching up to do, like me.” The kid glanced up at him then, squinting in the light. “How has he been at the station? He went in yesterday, didn’t he?”

  “Thursday and then again this morning. He wanted to do the paperwork on Starkville as soon as he could.” Simon flipped down the toilet seat lid and sat opposite the young man, leaning forward resting on his elbows. As gently as he could, he asked, “Sandburg… is there something else bothering you besides Jim?”

  Again Blair looked up at him, then away. “Nothing really… maybe the trial on Monday,” he said softly, as though afraid his voice would carry to his sleeping partner.

  “The trial isn’t on Monday. It’s just the hearing before the grand jury, Blair.”

  “What’s going to happen? Why is it federal? It all happened here in Cascade.”

  Simon glanced around the bathroom, shaking his head slightly at the unusual place to give a briefing. But these were unusual circumstances. And Blair deserved answers. “I can explain it in more detail tomorrow, Sandburg, but it’s been moved to federal court because of the multiple murders and kidnapping of the children and you, and because of your association with the police department. And because the young children involved will need their identity protected and will require protection from the press. And I suspect because of the possible CIA tie-ins. The grand jury will return the indictment, and then an indictment hearing will be conducted to initiate the prosecution of the accused.” Simon sighed, not knowing how to put such a complicated procedure into a few short sentences. “Is that what you wanted to know?”

  Blair shivered, hunching over briefly as though his stomach was cramping, then straightening, hands clenched into fists on his lap. “I guess what I want to know is will I see Crawford there?” he asked, his voice tight.

  “No. Not on Monday. The defendant isn’t at the hearing. That comes later.”

  “So this is going to take a long time, right?”

  Simon rested one hand on Blair’s knee, waiting until the young man made eye contact with him before asking, “Hasn’t Jim or our lawyers talked this over with you?”

  “No. Not really.” Blair looked away. “We were going to talk about it, but then Matt died and Jim went undercover at Starkville. And since then… just this morning, the lawyer called and confirmed the time of the hearing with me for Monday. They came to my office at the university and brought me a subpoena. They said I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone about it.” He buried his face in the washcloth again.

  “I’m sorry, kid. This whole Crawford case was taken out of our hands and I guess we’ve just swept it under the proverbial rug, glad it’s over and you’re back with us. But it’s not over yet, is it?”

  “No.” A sigh seemed to shake Sandburg to his core. “So will I have to talk in front of everyone and tell them what he did?”

  “That’s up to the deputy DA. You’re the only adult involved, so there’s a strong possibility that you’ll be questioned at the hearing. All they’re looking for, Blair, is whether the evidence presented warrants a strong enough suspicion of guilt to hand over an indictment. They won’t expect you to give a complete accounting of everything that happened. Just the basic facts.”

  “So when is the trial?” he whispered.

  “That won’t be for a while. Months from now. This is to set the charges.” Simon squeezed the shaking knee his hand rested on. “You’ve been through this with Jim on other cases. You’ve witnessed before at a hearing and trial.”

  “I just did what I had to. Jim always told me a day or so in advance where I had to be and he coached me on what I had to say. I know all the procedures and everything, I’ve been to court before, but I can’t seem to… My mind can’t seem to grasp this case. Just thinking about it scares the shit out of me, Simon.”

  Blair looked so lost sitting there, that Simon’s heart went out to him. “Jim’s been busy the last few—”

  “I know, Simon. I didn’t want to bother him. He’s got so much else on his mind with his friend dying and the prison and everything that happened there.”

  “You need to tell him about the subpoena. About the hearing on Monday.”

  “Can he be with me?”

  “I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

  Sandburg sat hunched over, his face buried in his hands. “I hate this. I’ll have to tell them everything, because otherwise they’ll ask the little boys what he did to them. I don’t want them to remember. I don’t want to remember myself, but I don’t want them to remember. Or talk about it.”

  “The courts will be sensitive with the children. There are procedures…”

  “I know,” Blair whispered, gasping for air, trying to keep his body from shaking. “I just don’t want to remember. And I can’t think of any way to get out of this.”

  The captain looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head, wondering what he could possibly say to take the burden from the young man’s shoulders.

  The door opened and Jim Ellison stepped in. “Thank you, Simon. I’ll handle this.” He stepped aside for Simon to exit the bathroom.

  “Jim, I—”

  A quick wave of the detective’s hand stopped Banks from saying anything more and he clasped the man on the forearm as he walked out of the room. The door was firmly closed behind him, then he heard only the low murmur of Ellison’s voice.

  *

  Jim

  He knelt before the hunched figure, first resting his hand on Blair’s curved back absorbing the tremors, then moving it slowly in calming circles. “Hey, Chief,” he whispered.

  “No.” Blair shook his head, face still buried in his hands. “You weren’t supposed to wake up. You need to sleep, Jim.”

  “I need you to be sleeping, as well.” He bent his head low, until his lips were close to Blair’s left ear, almost touching. “When did you start to remember?” he asked, gently, softly.

  Blair moved fractionally closer, raising his head enough to place his chin on the other’s shoulder. It was a trusting gesture, and it made Ellison relax. Blair would talk, when he could. “While you were in the prison,” the young man answered after a moment’s silence. “The second night when I was in the car and fell asleep. Just an image, though.”

  “Of what?”

  “Crawford. And Marty.” Blair’s eyes were shut tightly, as though trying to block the image of what he was describing. “I was in the chair… I woke up… I saw him undressing that little boy… God, Jim.” One arm went around Jim’s shoulder, clutching his T-shirt in the back. “I saw him… I saw…” He couldn’t go on, shaking his head, tears escaping as he pressed the side of his
face into Jim’s neck.

  “Have you remembered other things since then?” Jim waited until Blair nodded again. “When? Tonight?”

  “I’m sorry,” Blair mumbled. “I know in my head that it’s you there, but my memories keep changing everything around and I can’t relax. As soon as I fall asleep, I wake up, ready to scream because you move slightly, or my leg brushes against yours. I know you’re not him. I know it, but my body keeps freakin’ and I—”

  “Shhh.” Jim hushed him.

  “I don’t know what else I’m going to remember.”

  “I know it’s frightening.” He felt Blair shudder beneath his hands. “Anything you want to tell me about?”

  “Just stuff I saw him do to Marty. The videos he had the little boy watching with him. Bastard.” Blair swore, his fist clenching in Jim’s shirt. “He took his clothes off and made him dance around in front of him. I had forgotten that.”

  “Anything else? What about what he did to you? Anything more?”

  “Just him lying beside me when I was tied down. Nothing more than I remembered before, except I think he did touch me a little. He had sweaty hands.” Blair’s shivering got worse, then slowly calmed as Jim kept up his gentle massage on Blair’s back.

  “What we talked about before, then?”

  “Yeah. More of the same. The new memories are of one time I was tied to the chair in the living room and he was watching a video on the television with Marty. Taking his clothes off. Marty was crying…” Blair’s voice trailed off. “Oh, I’m going to have lots to say at this trial.”

  “Which reminds me, when were you going to tell me about the subpoena?” Jim asked, slowly pulling back and taking a good look at Blair.