Back to Part 1 SVS2-04: Witnesses by Toshua, Part 2 LeMing looked up when they re-entered the DA's offices. She glanced at the clock. "That didn't take long. Did she want something? Any problems?" Jim shook his head, then strolled to the tall windows looking down on the city center. Blair's eyes followed his partner's movements, but left him alone, focusing back on the woman. "I know you said there was a press conference at one. Is there someplace we can get a light lunch, something to drink?" The Texas Ranger entered on Sandburg's question and quickly spoke up. "There's a cafeteria on the bottom floor that serves up a decent sandwich, but the best is a little steak house around the corner. They're used to us Rangers and what we like to eat." Jim turned from the window. "I don't think I can handle a steak, but lunch is appealing." Jim crossed the room, Blair joining him. "Tell me about Texas Rangers, Ranger Haven." Haven opened the door and motioned them through. "How many hours have you got, Detective Ellison?" The door closed behind them, leaving the DA chuckling. As far as press conferences went, it was a small gathering. There was the local paper, the local TV station, a couple of the more disreputable rags, and coverage for the justice system in Texas. Blair caught Jim's eye and motioned toward the group. Jim nodded, knowing Sandburg was thinking of another press conference and the furor that surrounded it. The District Attorney and the warden from the prison were making canned statements and answering the prepared questions. Ellison and Sandburg remained in a back corner of the small room, staying quiet and anonymous. Then a reedy voice interrupted the warden's statement. All eyes turned to the local newspaper reporter. "Warden, we all know the case behind Freelow's conviction. We've heard the same story every time you've talked to us. What I want to know is what the arresting detective from Cascade, Washington is doing here." Voices started humming and muttering and soon the small room was in an uproar. District Attorney LeMing took over from the warden and motioned for silence. LeMing shot a murderous look at LeBleu. The little man smirked, knowing that his question would generate a media flurry for days, and he would reap the rewards. "One of the victims' families in Cascade asked that Detective Ellison be allowed to act as their representative and be present for the execution. The state of Texas agreed to allow his presence. Detective Ellison graciously agreed to the family's request." Voices erupted again, with Ted's drowning out everyone else's. "Will he answer our questions about the Washington trial?" LeBleu turned and stared at Jim, knowing full well that the rest of the reporters would follow his gaze and see the silent detective and partner standing in the corner. LeMing looked at Ellison, eyes asking the detective what he wanted to do. She had lost control of this group the instant the newspaper reporter opened his mouth. Jim glanced at Blair. The observer rocked his shoulders and sighed. "Pretend it's that jerk from the Cascade Herald," he whispered. "Thanks, Chief," Jim said sotto voce. LeMing looked at Ellison, whose blue eyes were hard chips in his granite face. The DA tapped a well-manicured fingernail against the microphone. "Detective Ellison responded to a request forwarded to Washington from the Attorney General's office. He is not here to answer questions about Freelow's conviction in the state of Texas." "Why not?" LeBleu continued. "My research shows that Detective Ellison's case was instrumental in your case and conviction." More questions flew into the air, a confused mass of "Detective Ellison" and words. Jim looked from LeMing to Blair. He finally detached himself from the corner and stood straight. He made no move toward the podium, but his eyes cast across the faces with lights and cameras. The voices settled down to silence as the cold eyes made contact. Jim's voice covered the room in quiet tones. "I didn't come here to make any statement to the press. A request was forwarded to my captain that I couldn't ignore. The state of Washington's case against Mr. Freelow laid the groundwork for the case in Texas. I was part of that investigation and conviction." "Detective Ellison, how do you feel about being responsible for someone facing the death penalty?" It was a woman's voice from the group. "Mr. Freelow was convicted of murder and drug trafficking in Washington. He was then extradited to Texas for his crimes here. A Texas judge and jury convicted him and decided the sentence. I had nothing to do with it." "Detective Ellison, do you think Freelow would have been caught without your efforts in Cascade?" Another voice, male, sang out. "He would have been caught eventually. Whether in Cascade, here, or someplace else." Jim shrugged. "Detective Ellison, there has been some speculation that Freelow was set up in Cascade. That his conviction covered up a larger drug cartel." It was LeBleu's reedy voice again. "I won't even dignify that comment with an answer. The investigation and conviction in Cascade were the result of good police work." Jim growled his answer and he stared at the beady-eyed reporter. The reporter finally dropped his eyes and the pen in his hand shook slightly. "Detective Ellison, how do you feel about the death penalty?" Another voice. Jim looked at the burly man in the baggy jacket. "No comment." With a glance at Sandburg, he slipped from the room. Sandburg nodded to LeMing and followed. Their exit started another uproar. In the hallway outside Jim leaned against the wall for a moment and rubbed his hands over his face, then through his hair. Sandburg placed a hand on a forearm and squeezed gently. "That went over well." Ellison opened his eyes and met Sandburg's. "Depends on your definition of 'well', Chief. The DA has a lot to learn about controlling feeding frenzies." Jim cocked his head and then pushed Blair toward the stairwell. "It's breaking up, and I don't want to be here when it does. Come on." District Attorney Rose LeMing entered her office followed by Warden Marty Marion, current head of the state prison system. He was growling all the way across the floor from the elevator. "I don't understand why you didn't let Ellison answer those questions. Wasn't that why he came down here? If he answered their questions, some of the heat would be off of us. Those reporters made us look like fools." LeMing went to her coffee stand and poured a cup of steaming water into her teacup and added a teaball before answering. "I didn't have anything to do with Ellison answering their questions. It was completely up to him. And I applaud the way he handled himself. More of our people should be so circumspect." "So now we're supposed to explain how the case in Cascade got handled?" Marion was a ruddy-faced man who showed his high blood pressure easily. "You know that we have a couple lawyers demanding a stay of execution until the whole case gets re-examined." "That's here, not there. And what he was convicted of in Washington has no bearing on the case here. You know that. So quit fretting, Marion. Unless you feel that our case was weak and there may be some discrepancies warranting a review." Her almond eyes flashed at the big man. "Do you know something I don't know? Once a man is dead, it's too late to say I'm sorry, we made a mistake." Marion's hands flew up and he shook his head. "No, the case was solid, the conviction solid and the sentence was decided by the highest judge in the state." LeMing nodded and sipped her tea. "Did you happen to see where our guests went? They knew to make tracks when the media was dismissed." "Haven't seen them." Marion sagged into a convenient chair. He mopped his bald head with a soggy square red handkerchief. He didn't wear his dark suit well, and his bushy mustache dripped water at the ends. "Why'd you invite them here anyway?" "Wasn't my idea. Just following orders." She settled into the chair next to the warden and patted the old man's wrist. "You really should think about retiring. This position is going to kill you." "I was all right until someone invented DNA testing. Now, I can't sleep at night, wondering 'what if'." He pushed himself out of the chair and started across the thick carpet. Marion turned and looked back at the woman as he stood in the door to let himself out. "You know, I always believed in 'an eye for an eye'. Maybe I'm getting soft in my old age because each time I go through this I wonder if we're doing the right thing." He closed the door behind himself, leaving LeMing sipping her tea and staring out a window overlooking the city. Haven looked up from his desk as Warden Marion exited the inner office. The warden leaned against the heavy wooden desk and panted. He nodded toward the closed door. "She seems very calm this close to an execution. She say anything to you?" Haven shook his head as he signed another piece of paper and tossed it into his out basket. He looked up at the large perspiring man. "What do you want her to do, pace back and forth and fret until it's all over? All the 'i's are dotted and the 't's are crossed. We have been here many, many times before. She's done all she can do." "Do you believe that Detective from Washington? You think he was up and up on his case? I don't know enough to know." "Like the man said, that was Washington, this is Texas." The warden looked at the ceiling for help when he didn't get the answer he wanted. "Where did they take off to?" Haven looked up. "They went to the roof, or so Security said. I didn't send a Ranger to look for them. They're our guests. Have no reason to keep an eye on them." Marion nodded and left the office, looking worse for wear. Jim looked over the edge of the roof, smiling at the scenery in front of his sentinel eyes. He could see most of the city, and the edge of a large lake. The air was clean and sweet, without the smells of a city. "Chief, you can come over here. You know I won't let you get too close. It's just like the balcony at home." Jim turned and leaned against the thigh high retaining wall. He grinned at Blair and offered a hand. Sandburg looked at Jim suspiciously for a moment, then left the safety of the heating units in the center of the roof. He took Jim's hand and let himself be pulled into the secure circle of strong arms. Together they looked out over the city for a long time in silence. Blair took a deep breath and looked up at the man at his back. "What next?" "I have a hunch that Freelow's attorney has a few words for me. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if Freelow wants to see me himself." "Why?" Jim shrugged and tightened his arms a fraction. "Who knows. I doubt if he wants forgiveness." "But we don't have to be anywhere, right? We're free to sightsee?" "As long as we tell someone how to contact us, I don't see why not." Jim turned his lover to face him. "What do you have in mind?" "How about the museum, dinner, then a walk along the lake?" Jim brushed a curl from Blair's forehead. "Sounds like a game plan. We'll tell the DA to leave a message for us at the hotel." He kissed the high forehead briefly, then led Sandburg toward the elevator. Dinner was at a small Cajun steak house that was a contradiction in itself. Jim watched Blair plow through a plate of crayfish and shrimp in amazement. He had no idea you could eat them, let alone buy them as a dish. He looked down at his filet migon and wondered if he shouldn't have been a little more adventuresome. Sandburg looked at Jim eyeing his plate and handed over a crayfish. "Treat it like a lobster. Just eat the tail. Like this." Blair deftly broke over the shell and pulled the meat out. He dipped it into a sauce and popped it into his mouth with a grin. Jim followed suit and chewed thoughtfully. "Think I'll stick with the steak. Thanks anyway, Chief." "No problem, man." Blair grinned at his lover, and then his eyes caught a familiar face approaching them. "Heads up, man. Reporter at 6 o'clock." Jim sighed. "LeBleu, right?" Blair nodded. "Wonder how he found us?" Sandburg sipped his beer. "Think if we just slipped out he'd get stuck with the check?" "I doubt it." Jim cut through his steak and stuck it in his mouth. He chewed a second before he spoke. "Besides, this is too good to walk away from." Ted LeBleu slid into the seat like he belonged there and placed a pad and tape recorder on the table. He beamed at Ellison and Sandburg. "Good evening, gentlemen. So kind of you to tell the hotel where you were having dinner. So nice of the receptionist to pass on that information." "What was the bribe?" Sandburg asked, not trying to be polite. "Now, Chief. Give the man the benefit of the doubt. He probably identified himself as a law enforcement person from Cascade." Jim's eyes belied the jovial tone. Blair nodded. "No doubt." He broke a crayfish in half, slowly, making the exoskeleton crack loudly. He felt the reporter's eyes on him as he peeled the meat out of the shell and dipped it in sauce before popping it into his mouth. When he met the small eyes, they quickly looked away and Blair mentally scored himself a point. He ran his tongue over his lips and reached for a shrimp, slowly pulling off the legs. "Detective Ellison, you didn't give us much of a chance to talk to you at the press conference today." "I said all that needed to be said." Jim pointedly cut another chunk off his steak. LeBleu sighed. "About the case in Cascade, you probably did. However, you didn't tell us about how you felt about the outcome of this case." "My opinions have no bearing on this case or the outcome." He lifted his empty beer bottle for the passing waiter to see. LeBleu changed tactics. "All right, if you won't talk to me about the case, how do you like our city? Quite a change from the Pacific Northwest." "Wouldn't know. We haven't had time to see anything yet." "I did some research on the web and there are some interesting areas we'd like to see if we have time." Sandburg piped up. "Sounds like there is quite a history to the area, from the original setting of the land of Europeans heading West to the Civil War to the discovery of oil." LeBleu finally took his eyes off the larger man, who was chewing a piece of Texas toast in silence, and looked at Sandburg. "I'm sorry, I never did get your name. Detective...?" "Sandburg. I'm a consultant with the department, not a cop." "You are not mentioned in the Freelow case. Were you part of the case?" Blair shook his head. "I was assigned to Detective Ellison a few years ago." That caused LeBleu to turn several pages back in his notebook. "Oh yes, you are mentioned as being Detective Ellison's partner when he made Officer of the Year." He looked at Sandburg with new eyes. "Isn't having a civilian riding with a cop unusual?" Jim spoke up. "Not at all. We met one at the airport, didn't we, Chief?" Blair nodded with a smile. "Right. Larson, the redhead from Texas A&M. He was working with the Rangers." LeBleu was making notes. "Really? I didn't know the Texas Rangers had a program like that. Maybe I ought to check into that." He looked at Sandburg. "Do you have any comments about this case, Mr. Sandburg?" Blair shook his head. "I reviewed the files and the sentence after we received your AG's request. I didn't know anything about this side of it until we were told to come here." "Any comments on the outcome?" "No." Blair went back to this crayfish and broke another one. When neither man said anything more, LeBleu finally took the hint and left them alone. Jim took his second beer from the waiter and handed Sandburg the dessert menu. "Will you explain to me what a mud pie is?" Darkness fell a little earlier than in Cascade and the two men took advantage of the warm evening. They walked along a trail that meandered through a park near their hotel and talked about the day, the press conference, the case, without hitting on any of the deeper subjects that underlay the conversation. As the darkness deepened, Jim took Blair's hand as they walked, guiding him from infrequent trail-light to trail-light. He stopped suddenly, head darting as his eyes caught movement. "Did you see that, Chief?" Jim's voice held a touch of wonder. Sandburg sighed. It was a familiar question that at times annoyed him. "I'm not a Sentinel, Jim. It's dark out here." "You don't need to be a Sentinel to watch this. Just wait." Both men stood still and stared into the darkness. A few seconds later Blair gasped in delight. "I see them!" Ahead of them, a group of fireflies danced around some bushes, the tiny glowing bodies twinkling on and off as they moved. The men watched in silent glee as the insects zoomed around them, getting closer and closer as neither man moved. "I haven't seen fireflies in -- years." Jim whispered. "I don't remember ever seeing them." Blair's eyes followed the dancing insects. "This is so cool. What happens if you catch one?" "If you're careful, they'll keep glowing. But they're real fragile. I remember catching a few in a jar when Steve and I were kids, but that was a long time ago." Blair finally lifted a hand, palm outstretched as one zoomed around his head. The little bug never lit, but it investigated the appendage thoroughly before zooming off to join the others. "Wonder if it's mating season and that's why we're seeing so many?" "Chief, it's fall. And only you would wonder about the mating season for insects." Jim laughed and pulled Blair into a quick hug. "Well, if I can't speculate about mating season for fireflies, wonder what I'd get if I investigated the mating habits of sentinels?" Sandburg chuckled from the warmth of Jim's chest. Jim started them down the path again, keeping one arm around Blair's shoulders. "Is that a hint to go back to the hotel?" "Hey, have to go look in a sentinel's lair to learn anything. Right?" Both men were laughing as they entered the lobby. In their room Jim pulled Blair into a long kiss and started worrying at the tee shirt tucked into his jeans. When he finally got it loose he peeled it off his partner with no effort and tossed it toward a bed. Blair was having trouble with Jim's black tee shirt and finally stepped back from the embrace that was slowing him down. Jim was panting and his lips were already red and swollen. "I think this will go faster if we undress separately." "I know what you want. You want a strip tease." Jim's eyes danced as he started swaying his hips as he worked the tee shirt up over his ridged stomach. "You want to watch," he whispered, as the shirt rose over his chest. "I want you naked." Blair reached for the belt buckle. "'Sides you can't do a strip without music." "We'll make our own music. Come 'ere, Chief." Jim grabbed Blair, tucked him close and swayed him across the room, humming softly. His hands rubbed up and down the soft hair on Blair's back. Blair worked at Jim's belt buckle, then the button and zipper. Jim made it harder by bumping and grinding against Blair's groin. Blair groaned at the touch that was making it harder and harder to accomplish his task. "Having a little problem there, Chief?" Jim chuckled into Blair's neck, then nipped the thin skin. "Want some help?" "Just hold still." Blair gritted as his hands worked the zipper. "Where's the fun in that?" Jim swerved his hips away from the hands. "Need a little help, love? Just say the word." Blair captured the hips with both hands and ripped at the waistband. The zipper finally released and the pants came free. The dark fabric dropped to Jim's knees and Blair stripped the navy boxers from the narrow hips. "Step out," he commanded. When Jim complied, Blair kicked the clothes away. Then he undid his own jeans and tossed them aside. Jim was quicker than Blair and tugged the briefs down in one quick motion. Blair's erection bounced free and Jim dropped to his knees and fastened his lips over the rosy crown. Blair yelled at the sensation and buried his hands into the short brown hair, trying to control Jim's motions. "Don't, don't, don't, I'm too close." Blair frantically chanted. Jim pulled off the strong erection with a sucking sound and looked up at Blair with smiling eyes. He licked Blair from root to crown and then stood up again. His own erection danced from his body and he rubbed it against his partner's. "Want to take this to bed?" Jim tugged his lover toward him and kissed Blair soundly as he angled them both into the big bed. Blair fell into the mattress and Jim landed on him, catching his full weight at the last moment. Carefully he settled over the smaller body and Blair wrapped his legs around Jim's waist. They kissed until they were breathless, then looked at each other, love flowing from their eyes. Jim brushed a lock of hair from Blair's sweaty face. "Tell me what you want tonight," he whispered into an ear, then bit a hoop and pulled on the earring. Blair rubbed their erections together, humping himself against his partner. "Sixty-nine? I want to taste you, feel you in my mouth, wrap my tongue around you and love you." He looked into Jim's face, smiling. "That's easy. I love you, by the way." Jim kissed him again then rolled off his lover and they positioned themselves for comfort and a prolonged session of oral lovemaking. "Love you too." Blair whispered. He slipped his hands around Jim's hips and pulled his lover into position where he could enjoy pleasing his partner. Jim's erection fit his mouth perfectly and he licked across the velvet crown, taking the moisture there and tasting it. He settled his head on a firm thigh and gently stroked the strong inner thighs as he licked and sucked the hard column. Jim groaned at Blair's touch. Jim slipped one hand into the crack of Blair's ass and found the sensitive bud there while his mouth worked up and down the thick cock. Every now and then he hummed around it, knowing the vibrations sent a shiver down to Blair's toes. His fingers pressed and rubbed against the sensitive rose while his mouth tortured Blair. Blair pulled off Jim long enough to gasp a warning before he tried to buck into his lover's mouth. He cried out as the orgasm ripped through him, curling his toes and arching his back. His hands gripped Jim's thighs as each spasm rocked his body. When it was over he lay panting against Jim. "God, Jim, what you do to me." Blair kissed the leg under his head. He pumped his lover's erection a few times and then captured the velvet crown, bringing Jim to an explosive release with a practiced grip. Jim bit Blair's thigh as he came, muffling his moan. He felt all the energy in his body drain through him and into Blair's throat. It was all he could do to roll to his back and collapse next to his lover. After a moment, Blair turned around and sank into the mattress next to his lover. "Think we want to get under the covers?' "Later." Jim's eyes were closed but he reached for Blair and pulled him tight. "Right. Later." Blair threw an arm and leg over Jim and went to sleep. The sun dawned bright red in a clearing sky. Jim Ellison watched from the hotel balcony as the thin morning clouds went from purple to red-orange, then cleared to white. He sipped his coffee and thought the sky was the appropriate color for this particular day. He heard his partner sigh and turn over, body rustling under the warm sheets. Thoughts of his mate brought a fond smile. No matter what happened today, Blair would be at his side. The midnight news had showed a vigil at the prison and reporters speculating over a possible stay. The press conference yesterday generated a group of second-guessers on a local talk show talking in detail about the Cascade trial and Ellison's presence. Of which the facts they had were so limited that the discussion disintegrated to conspiracy theories. Jim heard the local morning paper being slid under their door and wondered what LeBleu had written. Nothing good he was certain. Blair's sleepy voice called him back inside and he started a second pot of coffee in the tiny drip pot as he crossed to the door. He picked up the paper and crawled back into bed where Blair wrapped an arm around his waist and mumbled 'good morning' into his belly button. "Morning, Chief. Coffee's on." Jim knuckled the curly head lightly. "Sleep okay?" "Weird dreams. Shrimp were chasing me across sand." Sandburg rolled over and tossed his arm over his eyes. "Shouldn't have pulled their legs off, Chief. Shouldn't have eaten a dozen either. Funny how they got their revenge." Jim unfolded the paper; happy that he wasn't mentioned anywhere above the fold. The morning was looking up. "You're a laugh a minute, Ellison." Blair crawled out of bed and stretched before disappearing into the bathroom. When he returned he brought the coffee with him and made himself comfortable against the headboard. "Anything I want to read?" "Mariners lost." Jim handed over the sports and comics. "We're not mentioned on the front page." "Good." Blair sipped his coffee and chuckled over Doonesbury. Jim caught LeBleu's by-line on the front page of the local section and his name in the second sentence. He skimmed the three paragraphs quickly, satisfied that the local reporter had kept his article short and sweet, with little mention of himself or his partner. The rest of the section dealt with local opinions and other news. Jim tossed it into Sandburg's lap and crawled back out of bed. He refilled his mug and went into the bathroom to start his day. He heard the phone ring while he was shaving. "Sandburg." "Mr. Sandburg, DA LeMing. Good morning. I trust this isn't too early?" "No, ma'am. We were having coffee." "Mr. Freelow's attorney has asked for an appointment with Detective Ellison at ten a.m. He wishes to convey Freelow's final statement to the detective. The Board of Pardon refused to forward the request for a stay of execution at seven a.m." "If you'll hold a second, I'll relay this to Jim." "Thank you." Blair turned toward the open door where Jim leaned against the frame, towel around his shoulders and face half covered in shaving cream. "I heard. But have the attorney come to LeMing's office and I want her there." "Will do." Sandburg relayed the message and hung up. "Why her office?" he called to Jim, knowing the man could hear him over the running water. "Neutral ground." Jim stuck his head back into the room, minus towel and shaving cream. "Since the stay was granted, there isn't anything the attorney can do, except pour on a lot of guilt. He may just hand over an envelope, acknowledge that I accepted it and read it. Or Freelow may have instructed him to make some dramatic statement." Jim shrugged. "I'd just as soon have LeMing there to keep the attorney's conduct in line." He stepped out of his boxers and tossed them at Blair. "I'm gonna shower. Want to order us some breakfast? I have a hunch there will be several reporters hanging around in the lobby. I'd just as soon avoid them." He turned his back on Sandburg and mooned his partner, then looked over his shoulder to catch Blair's expression. Sandburg held the boxers in one hand and his coffee in the other. He was laughing at his partner. "You're gonna get it. One of these days..." "Promises, promises." Jim called as he started the water and stepped into the spray. As expected, the lobby contained several reporters and cameras. There was no other method out of the building except through them. The partners glanced at each other and prepared to be badgered. Jim started to pull Sandburg behind him, but at a glare from his partner, stopped the protective motion. It had been a hard lesson to learn and a harder one to control. The voices immediately started up and microphones were shoved into Jim's face. Six people crowded around them, forcing both men to stop and face them. After a moment of trying to focus on one voice at a time, Jim held up his hands and motioned for everyone to settle down. He remained silent until the uproar eased. Ellison looked around and, satisfied that some control had been re-established, nodded. "Detective Ellison, any comment on the refusal to issue a stay of execution?" The woman with the camera hovering over her shoulder seemed to be the leader of this particular pack. "I'm sure that the verdict issued was valid and obviously the judges could not find any reason to overturn that verdict." "Are you surprised?" Different voice, still female. "No." "Detective Ellison, have you ever witnessed an execution before?" This question was from a heavy set bearded man holding a tape recorder. "No." Jim started him and Sandburg forward again, taking baby steps, forcing the group to move with him. "What's your opinion on the death penalty?" The voice came from the only black man in the group. Jim stopped again. He looked at the thin man, seeing someone who wore his opinions on his face. "I'm a cop. There are some crimes that carry the death penalty. When someone is convicted of that crime, the law requires the punishment." "That wasn't the question, Detective. What is your opinion?" It was a new voice, with a Mexican accent. Jim looked at the group again. He didn't want to have this discussion here, in front of a group of reporters. "In this case, my opinion doesn't count. Now, if you will excuse us, we have an appointment to make." With those words, he plowed through the group, Sandburg at his heels, not looking back or acknowledging any other questions. They cleared the lobby and made it to their rental... finally. Both men heaved a sigh of relief when the doors slammed behind them and locked. Jim started the engine and glanced at his partner. "Could have been worse, Chief." Blair looked over at Jim, eyes questioning the statement while he tried to get his hair into a ponytail. Jim pulled them out into the street. "They could have asked your opinion. We'd still be there." "Yeah, and they might have learned something." Blair's voice growled as he looked out the window. "Sandburg, I know we disagree on this --" "I know we do. You have your reasons, I have mine. It's a matter of perception more than anything is. You buy into the criminal justice system as it is managed and the way convicts are punished. I don't. " Jim sighed. They'd had this discussion more than once, usually over beer after a long string of stakeouts that netted them nothing. "Chief, let me ask you this. Point blank, gut reaction. Knowing what you know about the case, is Freelow guilty?" "Yes." There was no hesitation. "Does he deserve to die for what he did?" Jim stopped at a light and looked at Blair, demanding that the blue eyes meet his. "I don't know." Blair met the intense eyes for a moment, then looked away to the street and the pedestrians strolling along it. When he looked back, Jim had accelerated through the light. "Which is more just, Jim? Confine someone for life, never let them see civilization again? Or take that life, commit legalized murder. You can't say the death penalty is a deterrent. We know it's not." "Is it justice when you lock someone up for seventy-five years, provide free room and board, and health care at the taxpayers' expense? How do the victims' families feel knowing that the killer is getting a free ride through life?" "Jim, this is an old argument. We're never going to agree." Sandburg sighed. "Let me put it like this -- in Texas, where we are right now, there have been more executions than any other state. Does this mean Texas has a higher rate of crimes deserving the death penalty? Or does the prosecuting attorney do a better job convincing a judge and jury that the perpetrator deserves the maximum sentence? Or that lower income people can't afford decent defense attorneys and end up convicted and sentenced at a higher ratio?" Blair's eyes were sparkling as he warmed to the topic. Jim heard Blair's voice slip into lecturing mode and knew he was in for a long morning with 'Professor' Sandburg if he didn't say something. There were times when Blair's teaching voice was a good thing and he loved to hear it. But there were other days when the side of Blair that was a teacher slipped out and Jim felt like a junior in high school again. Jim pulled the Explorer into a parking space and got out while Sandburg was taking a deep breath between sentences. He came around to the passenger side and slung his arm over Blair's shoulder as Sandburg hopped down and closed the door. "Chief, there are times when you being a shaman intent on teaching a stubborn sentinel is a real pain. You know that?" Blair tucked an arm around Jim's waist. "One of the things a shaman is supposed to do is teach. It's what they do for their tribe, besides heal. If the United States was a primitive tribe, an outsider might expect justice to be 'an eye for an eye'. But we're the most advanced civilization on Earth, Jim. How can you condone a government that commits murder in the name of justice?" "That sounds like something Naomi would say." Jim opened the door and ushered them in. "She has, a thousand times. If you want an argument, bring this up with her the next time she drops in." "I don't think so, Chief." A uniformed officer met them at the elevator to escort them up to the DA's office. The young black man kept flinching every time the elevator pinged, announcing the arrival at another floor. Blair finally commented on it. "We had a bunch of protesters in the building earlier." The uniformed cop explained. "They kept pushing for all the floors. Every time a car stopped, they threw in a bunch of flyers and ran. We're still picking up the papers and trying to determine who let them in the building. That's why you have an escort." He grinned, a mouth full of white teeth and braces. "Ranger Haven figured you might not take to being harassed too well." "He's right." Jim mumbled. The car stopped and they left their escort behind. The short hall to LeMing's office was crowded with all types of people rushing back and forth. Blair looked around at the rush in wonder. He looked at Jim, one eyebrow risen in question. Jim shrugged. "Who knows. There are probably all sorts of things that have to happen prior to an execution, Chief. I'm sure everyone is making sure that every 't' is crossed and every 'i' dotted." "I don't think I'd want to work here today, Jim. The vibes coming off everyone will be awful." Jim nodded but remained silent as the pair were ushered into the inner office by another uniform. Silence ruled in LeMing's office. Jim caught the aroma of a delicate tea and even more delicate incense. Which gave him more insight to the woman overseeing the situation they found themselves in. LeMing stepped out of a conference room and closed the door behind her. She smiled at her visitors and shook both their hands silently. "Mr. Freelow's attorney arrived about ten minutes ago. I did not expect the daughter to be with him, but she is. I'm afraid that Rena is showing signs of being pressured about her father's execution. When we talked yesterday, she was resigned and comfortable with the court's decision. Now, she is very distraught, courtesy of the defense attorney and his associates opposing the sentence." "I'll talk to her." Blair shot a glance at Jim, clearly saying 'wait', then opened the conference room door and closed it behind him. Jim didn't move from his spot facing the DA, who had watched Sandburg's action. "Mr. Sandburg is trained for this sort of thing?" She looked at Ellison, her almond eyes questioning. "You have no idea." Jim sighed. "Sandburg's talents fall outside of most people's definition, Ms. LeMing. I take it that your discussion with the attorney was not... enlightening?" "That's one way of putting it. Tea, Detective Ellison? Coffee?" "What ever you're drinking is fine. I noticed the scent when we came in. I didn't recognize it." Sandburg stopped at the door, eyes taking in the room immediately. He really didn't know what he could do for Rena Freelow, except make her feel less pressured, less... guilty over the whole thing. She was standing, facing a tall window that looked out over the city. A man Sandburg assumed to be the attorney was sitting at the head of the conference room table, arranging and rearranging some papers in his briefcase. Sandburg ignored the man for the moment and went directly to Rena. "Rena. Hi. I didn't expect to see you today." Blair touched her shoulder to get her attention, trying not to startle her. He wasn't expecting her to throw herself into his arms and wrap her arms around his neck. He embraced her for a moment, then moved her away. "What's wrong?" He led her back to the table and took the seat next to hers, still holding her hand. She was wearing the same clothes from the day before, but her eyes were hollow, her face ashen. She nodded toward the unacknowledged lawyer. "Mr. Spinster took me to see my father last night so I could say good-bye. I didn't think it would hurt so much. They had him in this cell, where they put prisoners waiting execution. He was eating this huge dinner, lobster, ice cream, anything you could think of. He was so... cold, like I didn't even matter. All he wanted to talk about was how wrong it was that'd he been caught." She sniffed. "I shouldn't have gone. At least then, I would have the illusion that he loved me." Sandburg couldn't say anything comforting. He pulled her against his shoulder where she cried. "I'm sorry, so sorry. Every child needs to be loved by their parents." "Did your father love you?" She pulled away and wiped her eyes with a tissue, then blew her nose. She looked at Sandburg, eyes still waterly. "Never knew him. Have no idea where even to look, for him, or his family. Mom never told me his name." "So at least you can imagine him as a good guy." "I do." Sandburg spotted a box of tissues on the table and snagged a few more. He handed them to Rena. "Better?" She nodded. "Mr. Sandburg, have you met my father's attorney, Ralph Spinster? My grandparents hired him to appeal my father's sentence." Blair nodded to the sitting man, not bothering to get up from Rena's side. He wasn't here to talk to a lawyer. His attention was on the distressed woman. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want to leave while my partner talks to him?" Rena nodded and Blair helped her to her feet. He glanced at the lawyer who was watching them though expensive metal frame glasses. "I'll send my partner in. He's the one you want to talk to." Blair opened the door and let them out. He spotted Jim sipping tea with the DA. "I'm going to take Rena out for some air. Mr. Freelow's attorney is waiting for you." Jim nodded and sat his teacup down while he got up. He watched how Blair guided the young woman out of the offices with a fond smile. There was a time when a screaming little green man would have shouted at the top of his lungs. Now, Jim was just glad Blair was there to take care of emotional situations that he wasn't comfortable with. Jim entered the conference room and let the door drift close behind him. The only other occupant was focused on his laptop and didn't look up for several seconds. Jim saw the snub for what it was and walked around the end of the table to the row of windows and looked out. There was a haze coming in over the lake and he could see a row of thunderheads looming up without straining at all. He heard the laptop power down and the 'snick' of the top closing. Finally, a throat cleared behind him. Jim looked over his shoulder at the man sitting at the table, making a big show of cleaning his glasses. Jim turned back to watching the approaching thunderheads. The silence lengthened until Jim heard a chair roll on the pale gray carpet. "Detective Ellison, I'm Ralph Spinster. Sorry I didn't greet you right away." Jim turned to face the little man holding out his hand. The lawyer was older than Jim by a decade or more and only had a fringe of white hair around his ears. His hazel eyes flowed over Ellison and he stood a little straighter, shifting his dark jacket to diminish his belly. Jim shook the hand extended to him but remained silent. "Your partner, Mr. Sandburg? He took Rena out. She's a little distraught, understandably so. She's losing her father." "You said you had a message from your client. What is it?" Jim ignored the emotion laden statement. The lawyer reached into his briefcase and pulled out a video tape. He held it up and motioned toward the TV/VCR combination in the corner. When Jim nodded fractionally, he inserted the tape and pressed the remote. Jim sat down after pulling two shades and dimming the lights, easing the glare on the TV screen. The screen went blue, black then rolled for a second before it cleared and revealed a man sitting at a table. He was dressed in orange coveralls, with handcuffs and a chain connecting them to his waist that disappeared under the table. He was thin, gray haired and gray bearded, with a scar running across his chin. A voice off camera said, "You're on." "Detective Ellison, thank you for joining me. Since you're watching this, I'm assuming all the appeals failed and you're counting the hours until I die. Sorry to ruin your satisfaction at how this case ends. Just wanted you to know that you'd never caught me except for some pretty incredible luck, good luck on your side, bad luck on mine. Without that luck, Texas would have never gotten their hands on me, either. I would have been sitting pretty in the Grand Caymans, pulling strings by remote control. "You didn't break the ring, you know. You just drove it deeper underground. Even with me here, the operation kept growing. Cascade isn't safe because I'm dead. The drug cartel I ran there just grew a new head. Instead of killing off the competition, my organization just merged with them. And like most mergers, it just kept right on growing. I'm like Hydra. Remember the story -- cut off one head, and two grew in its place. That's the beauty of a well organized operation. Don't you feel vindicated now? And don't look at that sleeze bucket of an attorney my parents hired. He doesn't know anything. Neither does my daughter. This secret I'll take to my grave. Count on it, Ellison." The figure leaned back in the chair and grinned. "That's all I have to say, Ellison. Just wanted you to know that you didn't win. Oh, one other thing. I'm convicted of what -- nine -- murders? You're not even close. Sleep well, Detective." Freelow signed off with a middle finger salute and the screen went black. "Were you there when he made this?" Ellison growled at the heavily perspiring attorney. "No. And before you ask, I hadn't seen it before. I had no idea." The tape rewound with a whir and clunked to a stop. The lawyer took the tape out and offered it to Ellison, who shook his head. "I think you need to give that to your District Attorney. Sounds like you have a lot of work to do." Spinster tapped the tape against his hand. "You know, I've heard a lot about organized crime operations run from prison, but I've never had any contact with it." His voice shook a little and he looked anywhere but at Ellison. Jim went to the door and looked back at Spinster. "Seems to me you've got the first link in a long chain. You'll probably learn more than you ever wanted to know. Good luck." "What about Cascade?" The attorney seemed to be genuinely concerned. "I'll worry about Cascade. You worry about Texas." Jim left the attorney standing in the semi-dark room, his mouth hanging slightly open.