Simon Banks stared at the block letters on the two-page letter included in a memo from the state Attorney General's office. He couldn't just ignore it. Things like ignoring requests from the Attorney General had a way of biting you in the butt somewhere down the line. But it wasn't his place to reply to this particular request. Without shifting his eyes from the various pages he keyed the intercom and asked Rhonda to go find Ellison. Ellison looked up from the break room table when Rhonda came through the door. He'd finally managed to find a few minutes for a little solitude and a soda. Neither one lasted very long as Rhonda passed on the captain's summons. Jim opened the inner office door and let himself in without announcing himself. He continued munching on his pretzels while he waited for Simon to get off the phone. He sat down when Simon motioned him to and took a thick document when Simon handed it to him. Jim skimmed the memo -- glanced at the handwritten pages, then met his captain's brown eyes. "Is this for real? The AG thinks this is a good idea?" "Read the letter, Jim," Simon stated softly. Jim went back to the letter, his eyes flying over the block script. It looked like a child's writing, or maybe a teenager, trying to be neat. Detective Ellison: You don't know me and really don't have any reason to remember me. I was just a kid when you helped convict my father's killer. I'm told that the man who killed my father is being executed in Texas in a few days. As a family member of the victim, I am entitled to witness the execution. But I can't go. Mom says we can't afford it, and I'm too young to see something like this. I'm twelve now. I have tried to get some friends to help me buy 2 plane tickets but it's not happening. Plus, Mom cries every time we get another letter from Texas. I don't think she can take seeing an execution. The Texas lawyer says we can ask a friend to go in our place. Mom says we don't have any friends who will do that for us. Can you help? You must wonder why I want to see the execution. I don't want to see someone die. I really don't. But if I know he's gone, maybe I won't have nightmares anymore. And Mom will stop crying. Thank you. Pamela Lee Jim looked up from the letter, his heart tightening painfully over the words of a twelve-year-old girl. "According to the memo, that case happened right after I joined Major Crime." He sighed. "It's real vague." He shook his head. "I don't really remember it." Simon nodded. "I don't either. You'll have to pull some files and see if it comes back to you. Jim, I can't ask you to do this. But that phone call was the State AG's office. They are very pleased that the State of Washington will be represented for the final resolution of this prisoner." Simon took the letter from Jim's hand and looked at the neat writing again. "This letter went all the way to the capitol before it landed here. Guess it tugged a few heartstrings there too." Jim looked at the ceiling, blowing air through his lips. He finally looked at Simon again. "Texas. It's been a long time since I passed through that area of the country." He stood up and paced around the room, stretching his back. "What happens if I refuse?" Simon shook his head. "We'll have to answer that little girl's letter and explain why." "You mean I'll have to answer it." Jim looked out the window, squinting at the sun. "How long do I have to decide?" "Couple of hours. I need to call Texas, find out the DA in charge of the area, see what their protocol is." "Who pays our bills?" "Our bills? Jim, you aren't seriously thinking of dragging Sandburg into this, are you? He's not a cop, or involved in the case." Simon got up, went and stood next to his detective. "But he is my partner. And I'll need him for this." Jim's voice left no room for discussion. Simon sighed. "Let me call Texas, see what I can work out. But if they wouldn't pay for that mother and daughter's expenses, why do you think they'll pay yours?" "Because it would be the politically correct thing to do. Gives Texas some small hook on you." He headed toward the door. "While you do that, I'll go down to Records and see if I can find the case file." He snagged the official memo on his way out. Blair Sandburg was growling at his laptop on the dining room table, trying to convince it that a .jpg file was perfectly okay to import into a document when the phone rang. "Sandburg." "You sound perfectly happy about life. How's the writing coming?" "Don't get me started. How's your day? I wasn't expecting to hear from you until I got to the station at lunch." "Something came up. Pack up your laptop and get down here." Sandburg straightened against his chair and started hitting keys. "Okay, I can do that. What's up?" "We've been requested to go to Texas." There was a long pause over the phone line while Jim took a breath. "To witness an execution." Sandburg froze. Everything inside of him froze, including his heart and lungs. "Chief? Sandburg? Blair? You still with me?" Ellison's voice commanded Blair's attention. "Yeah, I'm still here, Jim. Why us?" Blair's voice sounded weak even to himself and he tried again. "Who's being executed and why do we need to be there?" Jim listened to Blair's frantic heartbeat over the phone, the way the younger man was trying to control his breathing. "It's an old case, Chief. One of the first operations I was involved in when I was first assigned to Major Crimes. While Jack was still alive. In fact, it's so old I need to go down to the vault and find it. It's not on the database." Blair's voice was rock solid over the phone line. "I'll be there in thirty minutes." The connection broke. Jim looked at the humming receiver. He wasn't too surprised at Sandburg's reaction. For all the years that his partner worked with him, there was still a huge list of issues they disagreed on. And the death penalty was right up there at the top. Jim pushed away from his desk. Time to pay a visit to the vault and look for a long-buried file. Jim Ellison looked up when his partner and lover strode into the bullpen with his usual swingy pace, his backpack over one shoulder. Jim had to admire the gait for a second. Sandburg wasn't tall, but he was packaged well, and in soft tight jeans and with his shirt tucked into them, he presented a lovely sight. Sentinel eyesight wasn't needed to see the outline of a cock within the jeans. Blair's easy stride across the room emphasized the movement and when Jim's eyes met his lover's, Jim knew that Sandburg knew what he was thinking and answered with a cocky grin. "Afternoon, Jim." Blair flopped into the chair next to Jim's desk. "So, tell me about this trip." There was absolutely none of the hostility that had been evident over the phone line. In answer, Jim handed Sandburg a dusty file. The detective had spent the better part of an hour in records persuading a bored clerk to dig it out of a banker's box. He'd skimmed it, his memories of the case returning with a vengeance, and now he knew why Texas had asked for and been granted extradition. "You shouldn't look at the photos, Chief. They aren't pretty." "Bodies usually aren't, Jim. Don't you think I've been doing this long enough to handle some black and whites?" "Didn't say you couldn't handle it, Chief. I just don't think you need those images in your head." Sandburg nodded, and didn't open the envelope labeled 'scene photos'. He flipped through the typed pages, scanning quickly, slowed down on the court transcript and studied the closing argument in detail. After forty-five minutes, he closed the file and placed it back on Jim's desk. "I take it that Texas wanted this guy when we were done because of what he did there?" "He only killed twice here. In Texas, he killed seven that we know of. The trial tried to tie him to five more but couldn't." "How did you get involved in this?" Blair leaned back in the chair and crossed his right leg over his left knee, and deliberately stroked his hand up the length of his thigh, drawing Jim's eyes to his crotch. He hooked a finger in the top of his pocket. Blair smirked at Jim's enlarged pupils and flared nostrils. He was in a mood to tease his lover, and was doing it with barely concealed glee. Jim's sensitive nose caught the faint tint of Blair's arousal. He met the dark blue eyes with a glare that only heightened the color in Sandburg's cheeks. Obviously, trying to visibly remind Sandburg of their location wasn't going to be effective. Jim stood up and stretched, arching his back and slowly swinging his arms back and forth. His position put his ridged stomach and crotch in front of Blair and taunted him with his flexing pecs. Two could play the teasing game. "Why don't we catch a late lunch, Chief? I'll tell you all about it." Sandburg looked up at the grin spreading across Jim's features and swallowed hard, nodding. "You are going to get it, Ellison." Sandburg mumbled sotto voce. "Just wait until I get you in the truck." Blair launched to his feet and followed his partner toward the elevator, mentally telling his body to behave itself until the two of them were safely inside the moving box. Jim was not safe in the elevator. He and Blair were the only occupants, and as they started down to the garage level, Sandburg wound himself into Jim's space and forced the larger man into the corner. He rubbed his pelvis against Jim's with a growl. "You think you're so tough, don't you?" he whispered. He licked his tongue across the taut neck muscles. Jim wrapped his arms around his lover and sagged into the corner. "Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me? We have about 10 seconds." Jim was openly laughing. Blair gripped the white silk turtleneck at the shoulder seams and ground himself against Jim's body. His mouth latched onto his partner's and he rammed his tongue inside, stealing Jim's breath as he went. He fucked his lover's mouth with his tongue for a few seconds, then pulled free. "How long?" His teeth latched onto an earlobe and nibbled. "Three seconds. We're slowing for two." "Damn!" Blair let go as the elevator creaked to a stop. "I was just getting started." He reached down and tried to rearrange the bulge in his pants so it wasn't so visible. Jim was doing the same. The doors slid open and two uniforms got on, nodding politely to the detective -- leaning on a rail -- and his partner, who was braced in the far corner, ankles crossed. The journey continued downward and stopped at the garage. Ellison and Sandburg waited for the men in front of them to exit, then followed slowly. Jim jumped slightly at the pinch on his butt. He whirled and faced his laughing partner. "Chief, I swear, I'm going to spank you when we get home." Blair strutted past his blushing lover. "Promises, promises." Their late lunch was delayed even longer as they found a corner of a covered parking lot and proceeded to devour each other. "So tell me about this case." Blair dragged a French fry through catsup, then offered it to Jim. They'd found a deli a few blocks from the station and were sharing cold sandwiches, fries, and iced tea, parked in the truck in the sun. "Not much to tell. About six years ago, Major Crimes, in a joint effort with Narcotics, was working a pretty good size sting operation on a guy named Travis Freelow. He'd come to Cascade and set up shop right under our noses. Coke, heroin, crack, you name it, he sold it. Along the way he was taking out the competition and making a lot of enemies. Major Crime got called in when Narcotic's undercover man was made. He barely got out alive." "So, in a round-about way, he was helping clean up the city." Ellison shot his partner a glare. "Only you would put it that way." Jim bit into his club sandwich and chewed for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Freelow had a pipeline straight into Mexico. We kept busting his runners and grabbing his caches, but kept missing him. He was smart, quick, and had a lot of money backing him." "So you went in undercover. How? You're too old to be a runner. Too smart to look like competition." Blair chewed on a fry and waited. "Went in as someone representing the Russian Mafia, looking for a pipeline into the US. The Mafia wanted product and was willing to pay top dollar to a front man. All Freelow had to do was make delivery when and where he was directed." "And when he showed up, loaded with the goodies, you were there." Jim nodded. "Me, Jack, half of Narcotics, most of the area uniforms, couple DEA, you name it. Smooth bust." "Then what happened?" "Teddy, one of the guys from Narcotics, and I went back to the warehouse Freelow operated out of while Jack oversaw the bust cleanup. We'd been staking it out for days, waiting for the moment. We just weren't expecting what we'd find." Jim closed his eyes, trying not to see the image that played in his brain. "Freelow took a lot of time making his competitors feel unwanted. We found an Asian man, strung up by his thumbs. Freelow had hamstrung him, then nicked every vein so he'd bleed to death, slowly. We were too late. There was another body, tied to a chair, bullet between the eyes. Seems a Chinese triad had tried to muscle in on Freelow's turf." Jim looked at Blair who was turning a little green. "After that, Homicide took over. Jack and I were asked to stay on the case because we'd been instrumental in gathering all the pieces together." Blair swallowed against his dry throat. "And Texas?" "We knew Freelow had a pipeline into Mexico, we just didn't know how. But the two executions were just like several others in Texas. With that piece of information, it didn't take long to put two and two together." "And four added up to a multiple murder conviction in Texas." Blair nodded to Jim. "Plus the drug angle. The jury convicted Freelow of multiple counts of murder. It could have been life in prison without parole but down there the jury sets the penalty." Jim glanced out the window. "I'm not sorry he got the death penalty, Chief. There are just some people who don't deserve to live." "Even if they never see the light of day again?" Blair whispered, touching the back of Jim's hand. "Even then. Even as bad as prison is, it's not sufficient punishment." Jim looked at the fingers that were stroking the back of his hand. He turned the hand over so the stroking fingers smoothed over his palm. "Blair, I know we don't agree on this issue. I'd understand completely if you don't want to go with me if I end up going. You don't need to see this." Jim's voice dropped to a whisper as he looked into the blue eyes. Blair was one of the gentlest souls he'd ever encountered. The years of working with cops had taken away the naivete and the brashness, but not the gentle soul. Every day they were together, Jim worried that something would happen that would harden that soul and dim some of the light the younger man contained. Silence fell between them as they finished the array of food spread out between them on the seat. "You weren't too happy about this when I called earlier. What turned you around?" Jim reached over and stroked a curl that had escaped the ponytail. "I realized that my being angry over a task assigned to you was a childish reaction. I'm your partner. I back you up while you do your cop thing. I'm also a shaman. And as shaman, I also support you in your obligations." Blair spoke solemnly, his eyes never leaving Jim's face. "Besides, I was horny and knew I wouldn't get any if I pissed you off." The face broke into a huge shit-eating grin.
	"Brat." Jim swatted affectionately. "Guess we'd better get back." "Yeah." Sandburg cleaned up the bench seat between them and tossed the remains of their meal into a convenient trashcan.
Rhonda was waiting at Jim's desk when they arrived. Silently she handed over two plane tickets, hotel reservation slip, rental car slip and an expense voucher. She looked at the two men who were examining the paperwork. "Guess this decided the issue, then." Jim commented. "I hadn't said I was going." Rhonda nodded. "The Attorney General's office decided that having a Washington detective there would be a good thing and offered to foot the bill. And since you've technically been invited...." "What about Texas? Shouldn't their justice people have final say over having an outsider coming in?" Simon stepped from his office in time to hear the final question. "Their Attorney General was miffed because the request got to us. I explained that the child's father had been one of the victims here, and Freelow had been convicted of his murder in our courts, before he was extradited to Texas. But since I didn't want to send you there in the first place, I suggested that the AG's office could answer Pamela Lee's letter on why her requested representative couldn't come." Simon smiled a nasty smile. "I love it when politicians start backing up and getting righteous. They even offered to split the cost." He looked at the crystal blue eyes. "I accepted on your behalf." Jim looked at Sandburg and handed him a plane ticket. "Guess that settles it. Pack a bag, Chief. Looks like we're headed for Livingston, Texas." The plane trip was bumpy, the coffee was terrible and the engine noise gave Ellison a headache. Neither man was in a good mood when they stepped through the concourse into a too air-conditioned terminal. Jim had sneezed as soon as he stepped off the jet and hadn't quit. By the time they reached the inside of the terminal, Jim was holding a tissue to his nose and rubbing his eyes. Blair had both their carry-ons and was digging frantically in his backpack for the small container of Benadryl. Jim leaned against a convenient wall and took the tiny half tablet and bottled water from Blair's outstretched hand. He tossed the tablet back and gulped down the water before he sneezed again. Then he leaned his head against the wall and tried to get his streaming eyes and nose under control. Blair rubbed his hand up and down the bare arm and watched his sentinel, worried. Fall hadn't completely arrived in this part of Texas yet and he didn't think Jim's sensitive nose would be that affected. Obviously, he thought wrong. "You going to be okay? Think you have it under control?" Jim nodded, blew his nose and wiped his eyes. He took a couple deep breaths and opened his eyes to see Blair's worried expression. "Hey." Blair smiled a little. "Hey, yourself. You going to live?" "Think so. Thanks." Jim straightened and looked for the sign indicating where they'd find their luggage. The two men started down the terminal hallway, losing themselves in the hurrying passengers surrounding them. The baggage area was crowded and noisy and they stayed back from the pushing and shoving people, letting the crowds clear out a little. Jim's sharp eyes spotted the Texas Ranger with a sign that read "Ellison" before Sandburg did. Jim touched his partner's shoulder and pointed to the casually dressed man with a star. Their approach was noted and the tall man with the huge cowboy hat smiled and dropped his sign in the trash. "Texas Ranger, Dave Mitchell, at your service." A beefy callused hand was offered. Jim shook the offered hand. "Jim Ellison, my partner, Blair Sandburg. Thank you for meeting us. We weren't expecting it." Mitchell shrugged. "Least we could do. I take it you have luggage?" At Blair's nod, Mitchell motioned for a skycap who immediately stepped forward and took the traveler's luggage tickets. "I'd have your luggage delivered but the EconoLodge is a little drive from the airport. But at least we can throw it in the back of my jeep. Your car is already there. This way, gentlemen." Jim didn't move. "Why the VIP treatment?" His voice was coolly polite. Mitchell came back to his guests. "This execution has generated a lot of media attention. When the Attorney General notified our DA, we were told to treat you right. Something about PR for a family who couldn't send a representative?" Mitchell was walking backwards, pointing at a luggage-laden teenager and directing him out the door. "Anyway, the local media contacted the Cascade Herald to get their articles on the case and conviction up there. Pretty soon the story was out about the bust, the case, how one victim left behind a little girl, it goes on and on. Depending on whom you listen to, you're a cop coming here to gloat over your success, a do-gooder complying with a little girl's request, a visible reminder that Freelow had already been convicted in another state, or the Attorney General's way of saying that Freelow would have been executed anyway. So, once we knew where you were staying, we figured an escort would be needed. There was a camera crew at the car rental counter when I picked up your car. They had a recent picture of you, Detective Ellison." The Texas Ranger looked at Sandburg. "The fact that you have a traveling companion might have thrown them off the trail for a few minutes... but I doubt it." He grinned, tobacco-stained teeth flashing in his sun-aged face. He motioned them toward the doors again. Jim glanced at his partner, shrugged, and then followed the black cowboy hat toward the sliding doors. Sandburg was beside his partner, mentally writing a list of questions for the Native American with the round badge displayed so proudly. As they exited the terminal into the setting sun and heat, a red Jeep Cherokee with the Texas Ranger emblem pulled up and Mitchell opened the back door for them. Their luggage was tossed in the back cargo area and the hatch slammed closed. Mitchell settled into the front passenger seat as they sped off. "This is Lawson. He's not a cop yet, so he gets tagged with all sorts of stuff, like driving. Lawson nodded to the rearview mirror then put his attention back on driving. "If you're not a cop... yet, what are you?" Sandburg fastened his seatbelt and leaned forward to see the young man better. Lawson was tall, thin, and younger than Sandburg, with a mop of red hair and crooked front teeth. "I'm a grad student at Texas A&M. Majoring in criminal justice with a minor in anthropology. The local Rangers were kind enough to let me observe them as part of my degree." Blair leaned back in the seat with a groan. Jim chuckled and tapped Sandburg on the back of the head. "And here you thought you were being original." Mitchell looked at his laughing guest. "Did I miss something?" They spent the trip to the hotel and breakfast being entertained with Sandburg's 'I'm not a cop' observer stories. The EconoLodge was fairly new, with three floors and a kidney-shaped pool off to one side of the parking lot. Their check-in was uneventful with a Texas Ranger scanning the busy tiled lobby for media people. Once their keys were in hand, and the clerk behind the counter was directing them down a hall, Mitchell took his leave with a wish for a pleasant evening. Jim signed in relief when they arrived in their room in the back of the sprawling complex. Both men tossed their carry-ons toward a large chair and then slipped into each other's arms. They just held on for a while, not needing to talk, just absorbing each other. "How's the head?" Blair whispered. "And the nose?" Jim nodded. "Better. Planes are a real pain sometimes." Blair smiled against Jim's shirt. "I hear that." He eased away from Ellison's embrace. "How about dinner?" "Room service?" Jim kissed the end of Blair's nose. "If they have it?" "Avoid any reporters who might be lurking in the shadows?" Blair kissed back, taking his time with it. "If we do room service, we can watch the last of tonight's game." "Works for me." Jim disengaged himself from Blair's arms and found the hotel directory. Dinner arrived and the partners settled down over seafood and salad and watched the Mariners kick the Yankees out of the stadium. Buoyed up over the last play of the game, they celebrated with a long hot shower and oily hand jobs under the steamy spray. Morning arrived much too early, and Jim snapped awake when a shower kicked on several rooms away. Blair was draped across his chest, hair in his face and snoring softly. Jim looked down at his lifemate and smiled contentedly. It was very easy to wrap his arms around the warm body and relax back into sleep. The alarm buzzed a few minutes later, calling them to their duty. Blair groaned at the sound, but didn't move. "Come on, Chief, up and at them." Jim shook the pliant body by inhaling and exhaling rapidly, blowing on Blair's curls as he exhaled. "Five more minutes, I'm warm," Blair mumbled into Jim's chest and snuggled closer. Jim accomplished his mission by rolling onto his side and dumping his partner on the mattress without a pillow. That action generated a louder moan and a hand searching for a pillow to throw. By the time the hand had found the lost pillow, Jim was already on his way to the bathroom, parading his nakedness past Blair in temptation. He barely beat the hurled pillow. When Jim emerged from the bathroom, clad in boxers and muscle tee shirt, Sandburg had found the small coffee service and a pot was filling. He found a selection of papers outside their door and was glancing through the headlines of the Huntsville Item. He aimed a kiss at Jim's mouth as he headed for the bathroom, dropping the paper on the bed as he went by. "The execution isn't on the front page, which is good," he called as he closed the bathroom door. Jim nodded and started fixing their coffee. "Maybe the hype is already over with." Blair opened the door and stuck his head out, toothbrush in his mouth. "Wha? Didna cat th." Jim picked up the paper and waved it at his partner. The door closed behind Blair and Jim chuckled. Years of living together as roomies hadn't really prepared him for living together as lovers. Their shorthand, both visual and verbal had gotten shorter. It made for interesting conversations around the poker table. Blair emerged from the bathroom and Jim handed him a cup of coffee that earned him a real kiss. Sandburg smiled at his lover over the cup and then buried his nose in the fragrance. "Think we can find breakfast somewhere?" Blair finished his coffee, and fixed a second cup. "Like the hotel's restaurant? Sounds like a plan." Jim snagged the new cup of coffee before Blair could lift it and sipped, grinning fiendishly at his partner's expression. They were spreading cream cheese on toasted bagels when the reporter interrupted them. He slid into their booth like he belonged there and placed a notepad and tape recorder on the table. "Good morning, gentlemen. I'm Ted LeBleu with the Huntsville Item. I understand you are here for the execution scheduled on Wednesday." The partners exchanged a quick glance. Jim then turned his iceberg stare on the reporter interrupting their breakfast. The man was dark-haired and dark-eyed, dressed in a plaid short sleeve shirt and cream colored blazer over black jeans. But the eyes meeting Jim's stare were beady and snaky and Jim instantly didn't like the man. "Mr. LeBleu, you are interrupting our breakfast. Please leave." Jim's voice was as icy as his eyes. "I just have a couple of questions, Detective Ellison. It is Detective Ellison, isn't it? You headed up the investigation in Cascade, Washington, that led to the arrest and conviction of Mr. Freelow." The reporter opened his pad of paper and scanned through a list of notes. When he looked up again, Jim was a granite statute sitting at the table. Sandburg took one look at his partner and spoke up. "Mr. LeBleu, I'm sure that the AG's office has all sorts of media information for anyone who wants it. An execution is pretty routine for this part of Texas. I suggest you contact that office." "And you are?" The beady eyes turned on Sandburg. "My partner." Jim growled. "Mr. LeBleu, I have nothing to say to you or to any of your colleagues. You will please remove yourself from our breakfast table or I will have you escorted out. I'm sure hotel security is perfectly able to handle situations like this." "Detective Ellison, the public has a right to know --" "And visitors to our city have a right to a quiet breakfast, Ted." Mitchell's voice carried quietly over the reporter's. "I suggest you take Detective Ellison's advice and leave. There will be a press briefing sometime today and you'll be notified." The Texas Ranger reached down and helped the reporter to his feet, gathered up the man's materials and placed them in his arms. With a gentle shove, he started LeBleu toward the doorway and stood watching until the reporter disappeared. "Sorry about that, gentlemen." Mitchell turned back to their table. "Ted doesn't know the meaning of the words 'no comment'. May I join you?" Jim waved him toward the vacant seat next to Sandburg and motioned for the waitress to bring more coffee. "We weren't expecting to see you this morning," Sandburg commented while he added some jam to his bagel. Mitchell waited until the waitress left and saluted them with his coffee mug. "Hadn't planned to stop in. I was going to call and tell you boys to be at the District Attorney's office at 10, but I let the charge run down on the dang cell phone. Figured it'd be just as simple to drop by and tell you in person." He sipped his coffee and smiled. "'sides, they serve a fine cup of coffee here and I ain't had mine yet this morning." Jim smiled at the man. "I take it that a map with the location of the DA's office is in the car? And the car is parked?" Mitchell dug into his pant's pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "Knew there was sumthin else. Lawson dropped off your rental yesterday, in the corner of the parking lot, then pulled the keys instead of giving them to the manager." He pushed the ring to Ellison. "Here you go. It's a blue Explorer. Map's in the glovebox, 'long with a schedule. Like I was tellin' Ted, there's gonna be a press conference this afternoon. Figured we'd handle everybody bitchin' and moanin' then. The lawyers asked for a stay of execution, but ain't no more evidence shown up to indicate there's been a bad trial." "What's the story on your reporter friend?" Sandburg finished his bagel and was looking longingly at Jim's omelet. Jim saw the look in Blair's eyes and cut the omelet in half and scooped half of it on Blair's plate. Blair grinned at his lover and dug in. "Oh, Ted thinks he can sweep in, scoop everybody, and sweep right back out again. Problem is, we've got a local TV station now and suddenly there's some competition for the paper. So Ted has gotten a little cagier. He listens to all our frequencies, and is constantly dogging us when we're working. Used to be, he'd call up, get a few quotes, write the story and be done with it. Now, he's right in our face. And if you don't have him in your face, you got the local TV guy. And the TV guy thinks he's hot stuff with his mobile studio so he can go 'live' at the drop of a hat." Mitchell shook his head. "Getting to be a big city." Jim chuckled at the Ranger's complaining. He'd heard it or said it, at least once. Sandburg smiled at Jim's short laugh, but remained silent. He learned more by listening these days, particularly in situations where his knowledge was non-existent. The Texas Ranger finished his coffee and looked at his empty coffee cup with a sigh. "I really shouldn't have anymore. My wife says I drink too much caffeine, and my doctor agrees with her." "Married?" Sandburg asked politely. "How long?" "Twenty-five years. And don't tell her that I know our anniversary is coming up. She thinks I forgot." Mitchell tossed a dollar on the table and rose. "Thanks for the coffee, see you gents later." He waved at the waitress and strode from the hotel restaurant, one hand resting on the pistol in his hip holster. Blair watched him go. "Was it something I said?" He looked at Jim with a smile. Jim shook his head and finished off his hash browns. Blair navigated the blue Explorer through city traffic while Jim gave directions. It was easier on Jim's nerves as far as the navigating went, but harder on his nerves with Blair driving. Intellectually he knew that Sandburg was a good driver, probably safer than he was. But it didn't make it any easier to give up control and let Blair drive. The city was beautiful, with lots of modern buildings clustered in areas separate from the historic Civil War era buildings and homes. In the couple days they had before they departed Cascade, Sandburg had researched everything he could about the area and now he rattled on about the landmarks and the history of them as they passed. Jim smiled as his travel guide pointed out a museum he wanted to visit. He'd agreed to accompany Blair to one museum, in return he got to pick one thing he wanted to see or do. So far, he hadn't decided. But there was beautiful golf course in the area and he'd brought his clubs. The DA's office was in a squat glass tower overlooking a lake. The building housed the city's offices, the courtrooms, and the police headquarters. The truck was given a visitor's parking permit after their IDs were checked and a call was made to be sure they were expected. The truck was shown to a particular spot in a particular area of the underground garage, and a uniformed security guard escorted the partners to the fourth floor by and ushered them into a plush office. A brawny Latino man wearing a Texas Ranger star, followed by a small Asian woman in a severe maroon suit, immediately greeted them. "Jose' Haven." The Ranger stated, motioning to the woman. "This is our District Attorney, Rose LeMing. We're very pleased you joined us, Detective Ellison." Ellison shook the offered hands, then introduced Sandburg. "I admit to being surprised. Usually red tape gets in the way of things like this." The diminutive DA motioned the men to chairs around a conference table in an adjoining room and signaled to a staff member for coffee. They made small talk about the local scenery and the sites to visit while a young man brought in a carafe of coffee, mugs, a silver cream pitcher and sugar bowl. Sandburg smiled at the man as he poured coffee for everyone. "We're not used to staff doing things for us. Thank you." Haven spoke up. "Southern hospitality is still the order of the day for guests. The rest of the time we're on our own." The ranger took his mug with a smile. "Of course, you being from the Pacific Northwest, you probably have a taste for the exotic coffees. I understand there is a coffee stand on every corner." "Something like that." Blair acknowledged as he added cream to his mug. "It's real easy to spend a lot on fancy coffee." Rose LeMing lifted her cup with a tea bag floating in the steaming water. "I'm afraid I have not acquired a taste for coffee. Tea is much more soothing." "I have my favorites as well." Blair glanced at Jim and dropped the subject, knowing that the detective was anxious to get down to business. "As I said earlier, I was surprised that the red tape got cleared for this. I understand Texas is pretty rigid about who attends these things." Jim looked at his hosts. A pulse was racing under the skin in each neck. LeMing lowered her fragile teacup to its matching saucer. "Detective Ellison, we received the victim's request through the Attorney General's office. At that moment, we didn't know anything about the Washington case, only that Freelow had been convicted there. Quite frankly, we were going to ignore it. But the rules regarding victims' rights in the execution of a convicted felon are very clear. We had no choice but to forward the request. That got Freelow's attorney involved. Once he realized that the Washington case hinged on your testimony, he tried to use that case to justify reopening this case. He filed a request with the Board of Pardons. Those usually fail." The woman looked at Jim steadily. "But this opened another issue that you may not be aware of." Jim put down his mug and nodded for her to continue. "Mr. Freelow sent a statement to us through his attorney. He has also stated he wants you to witness his execution because he believes he would never have been convicted of murder without you." "In other words, he wants me to witness this so I will never forget him or his actions." Jim looked over at Blair who was looking at the table, shaking his head. Haven nodded. "That's how we see it. We couldn't say anything once we realized that the Attorney General was going to push the request from the Lees. Freelow's attorney knows that. And he's not above rubbing our faces in it either." Jim shook his head, then rubbed his hands over his face. He looked into his almost empty coffee mug. "I had to go down to records and pull the file from the vault to jog my memory. I hadn't been a detective in Major Crimes very long and was anxious about proving myself. Once I saw the names, it all came back to me." LeMing smiled at Ellison. "I know the feeling. My first six months as DA was the biggest challenge of my life." Detective and DA's eyes met in perfect understanding. Jim could feel Sandburg vibrating beside of him, holding back with a huge effort. Jim cast an affectionate glance at his partner, knowing the anthropologist wanted to know how an Asian woman handled being a DA in Texas and a thousand other things. Blair met the ice-blue eyes and grinned. No words were needed. "What happens next?" Jim looked at the DA again. "There is a press conference at 1 p.m. We don't expect you to say anything or answer any questions. However, there are some rumors circulating about the Cascade conviction that are bound to come up." Ellison nodded to the woman. "So we've heard." Haven shook his head in disgust. "Let me guess. You had Ted along with breakfast. That little man can be a real pain." Sandburg spoke up. "We have a couple in Cascade that are the same way. Give them a quote and suddenly you spoke for days and they misquoted you at that." Chuckles floated around the table. LeMing smiled gently at her guests. "Since we seem to be airing all the unpleasant things first, I do have one request for Detective Ellison. Mr. Freelow's daughter, Rena, has requested a private meeting. She is twenty-one and has been a ward of the state and living in foster homes since her father's second or third arrest. Her mother died of a drug overdose when she was very little. Her father's attorney told her you would be coming to Livingston. My first reaction was to deny the request but then I thought the decision should be left up to you." Jim studied the delicate features that were full of sorrow. This woman felt a lot of pain with her job, he decided. He glanced at Sandburg, who nodded fractionally. "I don't think meeting the young lady would be a problem." The Texas Ranger got up and stepped to a phone. Two buttons and a brief statement started the ball rolling. Conversation fell off and Sandburg got up and wandered to a wall containing photos and newspaper clippings tracing the history of the area. Haven joined him a moment later. Sandburg glanced at him. "I have some cousins in Texas that I spent a summer with when I was a teenager, doing long haul trucking. Haven't been back. But we didn't come through Livingston." "Then you must hit our museum and historic trails. For a visitor, they are quite educational." "And for a local, they are old hat." Blair said with a smile. Haven chuckled slightly. "That's true. But there is always something new to see. Like this story..." he pointed at a grainy storm photo and began to spin a tale. Ellison shifted his attention from Sandburg and Haven to the DA. She was studying him silently. He arched an eyebrow in a silent question. "Once the execution started generating all these issues, I researched your history. You're quite the enigma, Detective Ellison. From a wealthy family, you leave home to join the Army; lost in Peru for over a year, became a cop, Officer of the Year credentials. I thought your choice of college courses was interesting, military history and political science, with electives in everything from ancient feudal society to ancient warfare arts. How come you're not a politician?" Ellison shrugged. "I'm more of the hands on type. Never had much use for politics." Their polite conversation was interrupted by the intercom announcing the arrival of Freelow's daughter. Haven answered the speaker and looked toward his boss and Ellison. "There's an empty office down the hall." Ellison got up and looked at Sandburg still studying the decorated wall. "Care to join me?" "Right behind you, man." Ellison waited at the door for his partner. The woman huddled in the executive style office chair looked up at Ellison's and Sandburg's entrance. Dark brown eyes followed the two men as Haven made introductions before leaving. She was heavy set and olive-skinned, with dark hair cut short, framing a heart-shaped face. Dressed in a multi-colored broomstick floor-length skirt and denim overshirt, she looked years older than twenty-one. The silence in the room grew heavy quickly. Ellison looked at Sandburg, eyes begging for an idea or help. "We know there is nothing we can do to ease your sorrow," Sandburg said as he slid into a chair across from the young woman. "But is there anything you want to ask us, or tell us?" Blair deliberately pitched his voice low and calm, much like he did when Jim was on a rampage and had to be settled down. Rena Freelow looked from the sincere dark blue eyes to the sky blue ones of the standing detective. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if to steady herself. "I wanted to meet the man who put my father in jail for murder. I guess I wanted to say 'thank you' for stopping him. I -- this probably doesn't make any sense. I had a nice little speech I wanted to say, but now it's gone." She shook her head and closed her eyes again. "I wanted to tell you that I'm not angry with you, that I think what you did was right. My father... wasn't a very nice man, but he was all I had, you know? I think I knew, when I was a kid, that he wasn't like other kids' dads. And after Mom died, he got real mean. The social workers came and took me away and finally he gave up trying to get me back. Said I wasn't worth the effort. When he started traveling and disappearing all the time, I figured he was up to something no good. When I heard about you arresting him, Detective Ellison, I figured he'd go to jail, and maybe, when he got out, he'd be a better man." Ellison sat down and touched her hand briefly. "I'm sorry, Rena." The dark eyes contained a couple unshed tears. "Wasn't your fault. When I found out he'd been convicted of murder, I knew I wouldn't see him again, or at least I wouldn't see him as a father. The foster home tried real hard to make me understand that it wasn't my fault he was like what he was. I went to a bunch of counselors and stuff in my senior year at school. I just wanted you to know that he didn't leave behind a loving daughter and family. I know his lawyer wants to paint that type of picture, but it's not true." "What about your grandparents?" Blair whispered. "Gramps and Granny don't think their son could do anything bad. They got the money to hire lawyers and stuff to try and get him off. But they haven't had any luck. I reckon that's why you're here. They want to make sure you know that it's their boy you convicted, not some low life trash from the wrong side of the tracks." Blair smiled. "That's an interesting way of describing someone." His comments startled a small smile from the woman. "Yeah, well, his family can trace themselves back to some Southern plantation owner who was well known and thought of in these parts. My grandparents throw that up in my face a lot. It's just a name to me, never been partial to knowing my ancestors." "You know, I don't have any knowledge about my father's side of my heritage and I figure I'll regret it someday." Sandburg's voice was soft and compelling. "Maybe it's time you took a look at your Mom's side, instead of concentrating on your father's. You might find that there is a whole group of people willing to love you, something worth calling family." Blair gripped the young woman's hand, folding it around his for a moment, trying to convey some type of understanding to her. Then he followed Jim's motions and got up. Both men shook her hand and wished her well, eliciting a true smile for the first time.