Road Racer by Brenda Bailey
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Act II
Cascade P.D.
Two Days Later
Simon reviewed his schedule for the day while the elevator made its way up from the garage. He smiled to himself as he thought about the startled expressions he'd encountered when he showed up downstairs at 5:30 a.m. When a big case was on the burner, odd hours were the rule, not the exception, but with things being quiet for a change, his appearance at the pre-dawn hour had generated some interesting speculation. He'd chuckled at the desk sergeant's totally serious question of 'Something big going down?' It was amazing how an unexpected arrival could shake things up. Getting off at the seventh floor he headed for his office and that first cup of coffee. He made a mental note to remind maintenance to turn the lights off when they finished, the bull pen was bright as day and they'd left the lights on in his office too. His hand inches from the door, he almost jumped out of his skin as a voice greeted him.
"Good morning, Simon. You're here early."
He absolutely hated it when Ellison did that. Getting his composure back, he opened the door and entered his office. "Ellison! What are you doing here? Better yet, what are you doing in my office and to my computer?" The request came out with the appropriate growl, but the recipient seemed unconcerned.
"This is the only time I can get the computer research I need done." Unrepentant, he turned back to the computer screen and scrolled down the page.
Simon deliberately took off his overcoat and hung it up before heading to the coffee maker to start the first pot and what he hoped would be a reasonable explanation. "Are you telling me you can no longer do your own research on the perfectly good computer that the Cascade Police Department has so generously provided for you out there on your desk?"
"Yes sir. That's right." Jim typed in a quick e-mail response and hit send.
Simon considered a moment as he thought about how to put his next request. "Ellison, you have exactly thirty seconds to either get out of my chair and my office or explain to me why your research can only be done on my computer at the rather unusual hour of 5:37 a.m.!"
Jim hit the exit key and vacated Simon's chair, heading for the door.
Softening the tone of his voice, Simon tried again. "Come on, Jim. Even you've got to admit this is a bit strange." A sudden premonition swept over him. Anytime Ellison was behaving strangely it always had something to do with Sandburg. "Does this somehow involve your partner?"
Halting, Jim moved to gaze out the window at the approaching dawn. "The insurance company wants to total Sandburg's car."
Confused at the non sequitur, he went with the flow as he waited for the coffee to finish. "Well, it did have a rather spectacular run-in with a garbage truck and a light pole."
"This would be the second vehicle that he's lost that way."
Biting his lip, Simon refused to make a comment about how Jim's luck with vehicles was obviously contagious. Instead he concentrated on pouring two cups of coffee and handing one to his detective, encouraging him to come to the point.
"Sandburg gets real attached to his vehicles, talks to them, babies them." Jim paused to take a long drink of his coffee.
"Yeah, he's a little strange that way." Simon hid his smile behind his own coffee cup.
"Well, I just thought he deserved something special to replace it. So I've been doing a little research to see what's out there... within his price range. I just didn't want to get his hopes up if I couldn't find something."
Simon studied his friend's face. Jim could still hide his feelings better than anyone he had ever seen, except for where Sandburg was concerned. The totally bland expression on Jim's face right now might indicate little interest, but to Simon it was like a hand-lettered sign. Jim was obviously planning on replacing Sandburg's car and wanted it to be a surprise. And with Sandburg's computer skills, if Jim did the research on any computer that Sandburg had access to, the surprise element would be gone in a flash. This wasn't part of a captain's job. Why was he not only considering going along with it, but abetting it? The Sandburg influence had affected him too. "Have you found anything?"
Jim leaned on the edge of the conference table and withdrew a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "Not much so far. I've got one possibility here in town, but I've got to make sure Sandburg is busy before I go over there. The owner is supposed to call when it's convenient for him to show me the car. There's a couple of more about sixty miles from here that I'll work in somehow. It's a little difficult when I'm his only form of transportation."
"Wouldn't the insurance company spring for a rental car?"
"He's got the no-frills policy. No rental car and a $1000 deductible."
He sighed. The things he did for his people. "All right, I'm in. Let me know when you need to get away and I'll keep Sandburg busy."
"Thanks, Simon. The trick will be not making him suspicious."
"I think I can handle keeping one detective busy and out of trouble for a few hours. After all, I handle you, don't I?" He gave Jim a smug look. "By the way, doesn't he wonder where you are right now?"
Jim gave Simon an innocent look. "Me, sir? Why I'm out running at the park, sir."
Cascade P.D. Bullpen
Noon
Blair's stomach rumbled a reminder that the lunch hour had arrived. He glanced over at his partner, currently engaged in a phone conversation with one of the twenty-seven witnesses to the shooting of mobster wannabe Harvey Lee on his boat at the marina. So far they had seventeen different descriptions of the perpetrator or pair or gang that did the shooting. The whole investigation was going nowhere and the only reason they had it was that it had interrupted the tea party of Councilman Ember's wife on the boat next door. As soon as Jim got through with the call he was going to suggest they hit the Hobbit Hole for lunch.
Jim's cell began to ring and he quickly ended the interview to catch the incoming call. Blair shut his computer down and openly listened to Jim's side of the conversation.
Two minutes later, he was no wiser than when he began listening. It was hard to make much out of a couple of uh-huhs and a few okays. Well, there was one easy way to satisfy his curiosity. "Who was that?"
Jim looked at the cell phone before answering. "Just another snitch with yet another version of what happened out at the marina. Nothing worth wasting any time on." He looked at his watch. "Let me check with Simon a minute and then we can grab some lunch."
"My turn to choose," he reminded as Jim got up.
Jim knocked and quickly entered his captain's office. "Show time."
Simon stared at him before understanding snapped into place. "Okay, you want me to keep him here so you can disappear for a while?"
"Works for me. Just make it believable. He's already picked up on the phone call. It's like he has radar."
"Just remember you're going to owe me for this." Simon stood and grabbed his overcoat and opened the office door. "Sandburg, grab your jacket and let's go."
Blair looked up in surprise, but obediently reached for his jacket. "Hey, Simon, uh... Captain. Coming to lunch with us?"
Simon put on his best 'aggrieved commander' voice. "No, I am not going to lunch with you. You are coming with me to the Police Commissioner's office for the monthly departmental meeting and explain the grant we just applied for."
"But, Simon." Blair looked hopefully at his partner for help. The monthly departmental meetings were well known for being boring, long, and short on refreshments.
Jim shrugged his shoulders in a you-can't-fight-city-hall expression. "Too bad, Chief. I'll think about you during lunch." He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and quickly made his escape.
"Come on, Sandburg. We wouldn't want to be late, would we?"
"We wouldn't?" Blair reluctantly followed his captain out the door.
Jim made good use of his sudden freedom and looked at as many possibilities as he could. So far, every vehicle he had looked at was either a car show candidate or a restorer's special. Maybe he shouldn't have limited his choices, but he was determined to find another Corvair for Blair. He'd checked out the Corvair Society of America, the local Rod club, even the Classic Wheels website when he "borrowed" Simon's computer. The problem was time. He needed to find the perfect car before the insurance company sent the check. Once Blair got the check, he would get his own car and that would be the end of his surprise. He glanced again at his list; two more and he would be out of the current group of possibilities.
Cascade P.D. Bullpen
5:00 p.m.
Blair was killing time, halfheartedly reading over some witness statements, waiting for his errant partner's return. This really sucks. First I lose my car, then the insurance company starts giving me a hard time, and then to top it off, I get shanghaied by Simon to that meeting where I end up sitting on my butt for four hours waiting to explain a grant that they ask exactly three, count 'em, three questions about. Talk about a total waste of time. And then my illustrious partner decides to vanish and leaves me high and dry waiting for a ride home.
Fed up with sitting around and still hungry from the less than filling lunch that had been provided at the meeting, he decided to bum a ride home from one of the gang and leave Jim to his own devices. He headed toward Simon's office to let him know he was heading out in case Jim decided to call in. Approaching the door, he heard Simon's voice and paused outside, not wanting to interrupt anything important.
"Yeah Jim, he's still here."..."No, I haven't let anything slip. You aren't the only one who can keep things under wraps you know."..."Use some of those covert skills you have and find one."..."I'll think of something to tell him, you just concentrate on what you're supposed to be doing."..."Yes Jim, I'll make sure he gets home too."
The absence of a voice alerted Blair to move or get caught eavesdropping. He hastily backed away from the door and returned to his desk. What the hell was going on? Had Jim been given some kind of undercover assignment they didn't want him to know about? And why keep him in the dark? He thought they were long past that secrecy stuff by now, Jim knew better than to leave him in the dark.
He calmed himself down from the anger that had begun to build. I'll give him the opportunity to explain before I do... well, whatever it is I'm going to do to him for trying to keep me in the dark again. Putting a calm, innocent expression on his face, he headed again for Simon's office.
Giving the office door a brief knock, he poked his head in. "Hey, Simon, can you give me a ride home? Looks like Jim forgot he's my transportation."
Simon finished signing the papers in front of him and slid them into a folder. "I forgot to tell you, Sandburg, Jim called and left a message for you while we were tied up. Said he ran into Steven and was having dinner with him and he'd meet you at home. I'll give you a ride." Smoothly, he stood and removed his topcoat from the rack.
"Thanks, Simon. I appreciate it." Blair followed Simon through Major Crime and to the elevator. Casually, he began his investigation into what was really going on. "Did he say where he ran into Stephen?"
"I didn't ask him. Why?" Simon looked down at him with all the advantages that being taller gave him.
"Oh, no reason. It's just that Jim and Stephen don't really frequent the same kind of places, you know. It's a country club versus hardware store kind of thing."
Simon made no reply and exited the elevator the minute it stopped, heading for the safety of his car and a nice, loud, radio station that he hoped would serve as a distraction.
Cascade P.D. Bullpen
Thursday
Noon
Blair sat at his desk and worked at his computer, watching all of Jim's movements from the corner of his eye. Last night had been a bust as far as information was concerned. Jim had shown up within a couple of hours. They had talked about the departmental meeting, some of the more entertaining witness statements that had shown up, the Jags latest trade, and the identity of Rafe's newest girlfriend, but not a word about what Blair was most interested in: the secret undercover assignment. Jim had behaved perfectly normally throughout the whole evening and again this morning, not betraying his mission, whatever it was. This morning he'd tried to get in touch with Steven with no success. He'd been informed that Mr. Ellison was unavailable. Which could mean anything from out of the country to busy in his office. Abandoning that avenue, he was now concentrating on his partner, looking for clues as to what was going on. All this pleasant normality was driving him up a wall. Something was going on and his friend, his partner, his sentinel, was keeping it from him. But this time was going to be different He was not going to be left out in the cold until the powers that be decided he could be told the truth: he was a shaman, a guide, a cop, and an almost Ph.D. He'd find out on his own.
The ringing of Jim's phone caused him to key into the conversation, but it was decidedly unhelpful. After a few "okays", Jim scribbled something on a Post-it, stuck it in his pocket and went back to work.
Blair was so zeroed in on the Post-it pad, he didn't notice his own phone ringing. Belatedly, he grabbed at it while Jim took advantage of the momentary distraction to make an escape into Simon's office.
His captain frowned at the abrupt entry. "Is there something I can do for you, detective?"
"I've got to make a meeting at three." Jim barely cracked a smile at Simon's martyred sigh and eye rolling.
"I already gave, remember? Four hours of Sandburg at a departmental meeting should be more than enough for the cause." Simon leaned back in his chair.
'This could be the one. The guy who has it does this for a hobby and anything he does is in high demand. I only found out about it through a friend of a friend kind of thing."
Simon shuffled the papers on his desk, pulling out an inter-office envelope. "Fine, fine. I've got something to keep him occupied. You just stay out of trouble. I don't want to deal with your pissed-off partner if you get yourself in trouble."
"Simon, I'm just going to look at a car."
Simon stood, shaking his finger. "Don't even start with me, Ellison. Don't even start."
Jim gave him a jaunty salute and quickly left.
Blair finally managed to get the complaining citizen off the phone to see his partner exiting Simon's office. Damn. Something's being set up and I'm being left out again. His eyes cut to the Post-it pad lying beside the phone on Jim's desk before looking up at his partner. "Hey Jim, ready for lunch?"
A smile lit Jim's face. "Yeah, I'm starved. Let's eat. I'll even buy." He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and headed for the elevator.
Blair quickly followed, surreptitiously grabbing the top sheets off the notepad and stuffing them in his pocket. I'm not being shut out this time partner.
Lunch was like something out of the Twilight Zone. Jim seemed to be in an excellent mood, joking and laughing, while Blair looked for hidden dangers in every corner. They returned to the station, and Jim immediately immersed himself in the witness statements from the Lee shooting.
When Jim got up an hour later to head to the break room, Blair headed out to the hallway. Using a soft pencil, he shaded in the indentations left on the notepad. Come on, come on. This always looks so easy in the movies. He examined the faint marks. 'Three o'clock. 5115 Western # 27.' Okay, Jim. We'll play by your rules. All's fair. He folded up the piece of paper, glanced at his watch and headed downstairs.
At precisely 2:30 p.m. the door to Simon's office opened and he stepped out. Crossing over to Jim's desk he looked at the empty desk next to it. "Okay, where is he?"
Jim cocked his head and listened. "Fourth floor. Evidence." He grabbed his jacket and stood up.
Simon dropped an inter-office envelope on Blair's desk. "That should keep him busy. It's another application for his medical coverage and it's very thorough. His just got lost."
Jim smiled and headed out.
From a fourth floor window, Blair watched the blue and white pickup pull out of the garage and disappear down the street. He immediately headed back up to Major Crime to set his plan in motion. Fifteen minutes later, he headed out in a unmarked car. Beside him sat an innocuous brown paper bag with an evidence tag on it. He had noticed the request when he was visiting Evidence and Property to "borrow" some equipment. Volunteering to deliver the requested package was easy, getting the parabolic mike required a bit of obfuscation on his part. The D.A. hadn't really requested a demonstration of how it worked to show the jury, but he might... some day.
Fortunately, trying to follow Jim wasn't a problem. He knew the address. Trying to keep Jim from noticing him once he was there, now, that was a whole other issue. The white noise generator he kept in his locker at the P.D. in case Jim needed it now rested beside him on the seat, humming quietly. He'd picked up a spray bottle of odor neutralizer from forensics and had used the whole bottle on himself. He tucked his hair under an old knit cap he'd gotten out of Lost and Found and wrapped an emergency blanket from the trunk around his shoulders. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best he could do on short notice.
U-Store-It
Cascade Business Park
The meet location turned out to be a gated self-storage facility in one of the newer business parks. Blair parked in a lot about two blocks away where he could observe the entry gate yet still be unseen. Jim goes alone to a secret meeting and it's in a nice part of town and in a nice new building in the middle of the afternoon. If we go to a meet, it's always in an old dirty warehouse in the middle of the night in the absolute worst part of town with a couple of lowlifes who look like wannabees from the WWF. He picked up the binoculars to focus in on the truck idling off to the side at the gate. Within a few minutes the truck was joined by a custom van with blacked out windows. The driver punched in a code and drove into the facility with the truck and Jim following. He quickly copied down the license plate, put the car in gear and moved to another parking space that gave him a slightly obstructed view of the area where the vehicles had stopped. Quickly, he slipped on the headphones and aimed the parabolic mike toward the two figures.
"... on time..."
"... see what you've got." The two men disappeared into one of the storage rooms and he turned up the gain to follow the conversation.
HONNNNKKKK! Blair frantically pushed the headphones off his ears. Owwww! Now I know how Jim feels. Checking the area for any other demented drivers looking to blast his eardrums, he cautiously slipped the headphones back on.
"... vroommmmm, vroommmmm, vroommmm..."
Great, now I'm getting the drag racing channel. He changed the angle of the mike slightly and adjusted the gain again.
An excited voice echoed in his ears. "... Who carries an unloaded gun? Would I carry an unloaded gun? Would anybody I know carry an unloaded gun? What do they shoot people with in Canada, serviettes?" Blair's hand was already on the ignition switch when a moment of silence was replaced by a commercial for AT&T's new Motorola phone. Great. Just great. Now I've got TV. This eavesdropping is sure a lot easier with Jim to do it. He readjusted the mike again but could pick nothing up but a lovely array of static, squeals, and beeps. Frustrated, he shook the mike and banged it up against the dashboard for good measure.
"... steal... spider..."
"mission... not today... find out... dead..."
Jim, man, what are you in to? A low flying helicopter drowned out any remaining conversation and Blair watched the two men exit the building and get in their respective vehicles to leave. No way are you doing whatever this is without me. But why did it have to be spiders? I hate spiders.
Cascade P.D. Bullpen
An hour later, Blair returned to the P.D. after dropping off the required package at the D.A.'s office and restoring the "borrowed" equipment to its proper place. He regarded the fat envelope on his desk with a jaundiced eye. Opening it, he saw a multitude of medical insurance forms, forms he distinctly remembered filling out only a month ago. Nice try, Simon, but no sale. You're not going to distract me that easily. With a smile, he resealed the envelope and tossed it in a drawer.
Simon let the Venetian blind drop and turned to face the other occupant of his office. "Good thing you made it back before Sandburg did, I don't think my little entertainment would have held him long."
"I'm just glad he got talked into dropping off that evidence." Jim sipped at his cup of coffee.
"So when's the big event, now that you've found the car?" Simon eased back into his chair.
"This weekend. The guy selling the car is even letting me make his entry in the CORSA -- that's the Corvair Society of America, for the uninformed -- road rally that's taking place in Woodland. He'd entered the car months ago."
Simon had never seen the fascination of rehabilitating old cars. "Why was he willing to sell the car if it's so special?"
Jim shrugged and smiled at the question. "That's what he does. He finds classic old cars and restores them. He was going down to Woodland to show it off and figured he'd find a buyer there. I just came along a little early."
"Do I even want to know how much this cost?" Simon couldn't resist pushing Jim's buttons.
"No, sir."
"Didn't think so." Simon stood and refilled his cup, hiding a grin. "So how are you going to get Sandburg down there without him figuring out what's going on? It's not like there's much in the way of towns."
"Oh, I figured you could send us to pick up a missing witness at the sheriff's department. If I time it right, we'll get there right about the time of the pre-rally get-together."
Simon chuckled. "You've really got this planned out, haven't you?"
"A successful mission comes from advance planning, sir. All I need now is for you to authorize the time off."
"Fine, fine. I know if I don't agree to this, you'll find a way to do it anyway."
"Probably." Jim shrugged and rose to leave. "But he deserves it, sir, and you think so, too."
"Get out of here before I find a real assignment to send you on," Simon growled and motioned Jim towards the door. "And try to stay out of trouble this weekend, I've got courtside tickets for Saturday's game."
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This page last updated 2/2/01.