Author’s Note: This story in no way means to infringe on any copyrights held by Paramount/Pet Fly, so let’s just be a little Eupsychian and enjoy it for the free entertainment that it is. Comments are always welcome.
And the good's gone now
We used to love as one
But we have forgotten now.
“The Good’s Gone” - The Who
Blair smiled wistfully to himself as he walked across campus, taking in the sight of clusters of students who were making the most of the rare sunny day. He had once been that carefree, and as an undergrad he had enjoyed many leisurely hours between classes sprawled on the grass behind the student center or relaxing next to the fountain in front of the anthropology building. It would have been nice to follow the trend and grab a coffee and a paper and find a bench where he could soak up a little of the sun they hadn’t seen in days, but he was in a hurry. Blair was always in a hurry these days, dashing back and forth between his plethora of responsibilities. Between the classes he taught, the research and work that he did toward his Ph.D., beginning the daunting task of writing his dissertation, working with Jim on their sentinel project, and the field and clerical work he did for the Cascade P.D.... Well, leisure time was a luxury he no longer had.
But, nostalgia aside, Blair had to admit it wasn’t really much of a sacrifice. He loved teaching, and he also loved the role he had assumed in the Major Crime Unit. It was hard work, and dangerous, but always exciting. And it was fascinating from an anthropological sense, studying and analyzing not only the different aspects of society, both good and bad, but also the complex infrastructure of the law enforcement organization. Daily he was able to see acted out before him living examples of the theories that most of his colleagues only got to read about. And as far as guiding his sentinel, well, in that respect he was living his dream. Blair was happy with his life, and fulfilled, and he didn’t regret the workload he had undertaken, even if it didn’t always allow him to stop and smell the roses.
So with cheerful acceptance, Sandburg strode purposefully to the faculty parking lot, making sure to enjoy the warm sun on his face before he reached his car. Tossing his backpack into the backseat, he hopped behind the wheel and fired up the engine, glancing at the clock on the dash as he did so. He was due to meet Jim, but he decided he had enough time to swing by the loft before going down to the station. It had been cool that morning, but the sun had raised the temperature considerably and Blair wanted to shed his heavy sweater in favor of something more lightweight. And if he didn’t get stuck in noon traffic, he might even have a few minutes to grab something to eat.
As luck would have it, he managed to avoid the bulk of the heavy lunchtime traffic and arrived back home faster than he anticipated. Sandburg parked the car and trotted inside the building, mentally trying to recall the contents of the refrigerator for something that would be quick and easy. He hit the button for the elevator and leaned up against the wall while he waited, but out of the corner of his eye a slight flicker of movement caught his attention, pulling his thoughts out of their culinary musings. A large tabby cat was skulking at the end of the hallway, watching him with unwavering surveillance.
Blair grinned and walked toward the feline, crouching down a few feet away and holding out a hand, wriggling his fingers slightly in invitation. The cat cautiously moved forward, sniffing him delicately before sliding under his hand, arching his back as he stroked it.
“Well, hello there, Maslow,” Sandburg murmured as the cat turned around and retraced his steps, starting to purr softly as he obliged with another gentle stroke. “And just how did you get out here?”
With no answer forthcoming, Blair carefully scooped the cat up in his arms and went to apartment 106, rapping on the door with his knuckles.
It had not been very long since he had considered taking the vacant apartment. After Jim had curtly dismissed them when he and Simon had followed him to Clayton Falls, Sandburg had begun to think that maybe it was time to give his sentinel a little space. But after all was said and done, Ellison had assured him that while he might need a break now and then, he was happy with their living arrangement. So Blair had stayed, rationalizing that although he was a gregarious person with a “the more, the merrier” philosophy, it just wasn’t so for everyone, and especially for the gruff detective. He knew that his moving out was inevitable. After all, one loft could get a bit cramped for two grown men, and he had no desire to spend the rest of his life wedged into an alcove under the stairs. But he decided to worry about getting his own place after he had gotten his Ph.D, when the time for such close contact with his subject could no longer be justified. And until then, he resolved to enjoy having a roommate, as well as try to give him a little space here and there. But rather than let a good apartment go to waste, he had recommended it to a friend of his from Rainier who had been looking for a place, and he had eagerly snapped it up.
“Nate,” Sandburg called out, knocking again when he received no answer. “It’s Blair. Are you home?” There was no reply, and he glanced down at the cat in his arms. “Guess not.”
It wasn’t a surprise, as Nathan Radner was also working on his Ph.D. and was stretched every bit as thin as the anthropologist. But it left Blair with the dilemma of what to do with his friend’s cat. He didn’t know how Maslow had managed to get out, but he knew that he couldn’t leave the feline in the hall to potentially escape outside the building. Left with no other options, Sandburg returned to the elevator which had come and gone and hit the button again, shifting the weight of the cat in his arms slightly. He wasn’t sure how Jim would react, for although the detective liked animals, he liked the loft clean and orderly more. But, he had once agreed to let an ape move in, and surely a cat couldn’t match that in terms of mess and destruction.
Aware of his time crunch, Blair quickly changed and opened a can of tuna fish. He slapped most of it into a sandwich and dumped the rest into a small bowl for the cat. Shutting Maslow up in his room, he decided he’d deal with Jim’s griping when they got home that night. With any luck, he’d be able to get back first and find Nate and return the feline, and the sentinel would never know. Yeah, Sandburg thought as he grabbed his sandwich and a light jacket and dashed out of the door, and maybe pigs will learn to fly.
It was an uneventful afternoon. Jim was working on an alleged extortion case, and Blair accompanied him out in the field as he interviewed the parties involved. Then it was back to the department to run background checks on the principals, as well as looking into their finances and past histories. Low on excitement, but that was all right with Sandburg. Research was his life, so he didn’t mind helping his partner do a little digging. And it was nice to be out of the line of fire for once, although as he uncovered some possible mob ties associated with their suspect, the anthropologist realized that before the case was over they’d probably be looking over their shoulders yet again.
When Ellison decided to call it a day, they packed up and left the station. Blair was anticipating beating him home, but to his chagrin, the detective pulled in right behind him.
“I thought you were stopping at Wonderburger,” the younger man accused his friend.
“I decided to just order a pizza,” Jim shrugged, falling into step beside his roommate. The new moon was obscured by thick, heavy clouds which were once again threatening to soak the already saturated city, and he had been trying to stay ahead of the imminent shower, although he didn’t bother explaining this to his companion.
They entered the building together, but as the sentinel halted, Sandburg kept going down the hall, turning and walking backwards as he addressed his partner.
“Hold the elevator,” he commanded. “I just need to see if Nate’s home. I, uh, have something of his that I need to give back.”
The detective rolled his eyes, but obligingly held the elevator door open with his hand when it arrived. But as Blair knocked on the apartment door, a scowl descended over Ellison’s face and he let the elevator go as he strode quickly down the hall.
“What’s the matter?” Sandburg asked as the sentinel appeared beside him and he immediately recognized the look of intense focus that always meant trouble. Ellison didn’t answer at first, then he spared his friend a quick glance.
“Chief, go upstairs and call for backup.”
“Jim, what’s going on?”
“Do it,” the detective barked harshly as he pulled his gun. Blair began retreating down the hall, and the sentinel carefully turned the knob, opening the door and slipping inside.
Sandburg hesitated by the elevator, a cold, hard knot descending in the pit of his stomach. His partner had obviously sensed something very wrong in that apartment, and it didn’t take much imagination to guess what it was. The way Ellison had casually entered, his gun in hand but loose at his side, told the observer that he hadn’t anticipated any danger to himself from within. Which meant the order to go call for backup had been a ruse to get rid of him, because there was something in that apartment that Jim didn’t want him to see.
Pulling his cell phone out of his backpack and holding it ready in case he was wrong, Blair crept back down the hallway until he reached the apartment. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he stepped inside the open door to see the detective bending over Nate. The grad student was gagged, tied to a chair, covered in blood, and his head lolled limply as Ellison checked for a pulse.
“I’m sorry, Chief,” Jim told him quietly as he looked up and saw him in the doorway.
For a moment, Blair was frozen in shock, unable to tear his eyes away from the horror in front of him, sure that what he was seeing could not be reality. But at he stared at the lifeless, battered body of his friend, his stomach lurched and he had to go back out into the hallway. Leaning against the wall, Sandburg took in a few deep breaths of air, forcing back the nausea that was rolling in his gut. Getting himself under control, Blair lifted the phone that he was still clutching tightly in his hand and began dialing Simon’s number, knowing that Jim would want both forensics and the M.E., and the sooner they got there, the better.
“He hasn’t been dead long,” Dan Wolfe informed the detective as he finished his preliminary examination. “Maybe an hour or two. I’ll know more after the autopsy.”
“What’s your first impression?” Ellison asked, wanting to start getting the whole picture, if only unofficially.
“He was tortured,” the examiner said simply, walking over to the gurney where the victim had been moved and pulling the sheet back. “This bruising here indicates that the wounds were inflicted prior to death. I’d say by at least eight hours.”
“Which would put the attack some time around mid morning,” the sentinel concluded.
“Tied up and gagged first, then beaten and stabbed,” Wolfe agreed. “Individually, none of the wounds were meant to be fatal.”
“So whoever did this was probably trying to get something out of him. Make him talk.”
“Maybe,” Dan shrugged, not overly concerned with the ‘whys’ as it wasn’t part of his job.
“So what killed him?”
“I don’t know that yet,” the examiner replied. “Could have been blood loss, or internal injuries. I’ll know more later.”
“Let me know as soon as you find out,” Ellison told him.
“You got it.”
Wolfe left the apartment, giving an empathetic nod to Sandburg who was hovering nervously in the background. Blair didn’t seem to see him, his gaze riveted to the body of his friend on the gurney, his face whiter than the sheet that covered him. Then he turned and followed Dan, slipping out of the apartment unnoticed by his partner who had moved to join his captain.
“This is going to be a tough one, Jim,” Banks pointed out. “You sure you want it?”
“I need it, Sir,” Ellison replied. Someone had taken something away from his best friend and had hurt him badly in the process, and the detective was bound and determined he was going to find that someone and make him answer for it. He owed it to Blair, but he owed it to himself, too. Jim didn’t know Nate well, but the three of them had spent an enjoyable evening in the loft one night watching the game and drinking a few beers. Nate was a good guy, funny and down to earth, and the sentinel had liked him. He hadn’t deserved the brutality of what had happened to him, and Ellison felt the least he could do was to give him justice.
“All right,” Simon conceded. “I’ll reassign your extortion case. But what about the kid? I don’t want a repeat of him flying off the handle like when Roy Williams was killed. You think he’ll be able to keep his cool?”
“I’ll talk to him, Sir,” Jim promised. “And I’ll keep him in line.”
“Well, that would be a first,” the captain teased. “Come on, let’s wrap this up.”
The crime scene was painstakingly processed and people began clearing out. Ellison was the last to leave, ducking under the yellow police tape that roped off the apartment as he pulled the door closed behind him. He met Rafe and Brown in the hallway and they briefed him on the canvas they had done in the building. No one in the neighboring apartments had any concrete information to share, but they promised to check out what little they had gotten first thing in the morning. They parted ways at the elevator, with the sentinel halting and hitting the button as his colleagues continued on and exited the building. But a moment later Rafe returned, sticking his head through the door and beckoning to him.
Jim followed him outside, resigning himself to the fact that the rain had begun once again. But that disappointment quickly faded as he followed Rafe’s nod and spied the solitary figure huddled sadly against the side of the building
“Thanks,” he murmured, slapping his fellow detective gently on the back before heading over to his partner. Rafe watched for a moment, wishing there was something he could do for the observer that they had all grown to care about. But Sandburg had to work through his latest loss on his own, and he knew Ellison would take care of him while he did. In the meantime, he vowed to make it a priority to help the investigation along any way that he could. Sharing a glance with Brown, he spied the same resolve in his partner’s eyes and the two detectives respectfully decided to go and get on it, leaving the observer to his grief.
“You ok, Chief?” the sentinel asked his friend as he huddled up against the building beside him. The eaves offered a little protection from the rain, but the younger man was soaking and had obviously been out there for awhile.
“I heard what Dan said,” Blair told him hoarsely. “Nate was in there all day, man. Helpless, and hurt, and... dying.”
“I know it’s upsetting to think about your friend suffering,” Ellison began.
“No, you don’t understand,” Sandburg burst out, pushing away from the building to pace in tight, agitated circles. “I was there, Jim. Earlier today. I was right there, knocking on his door while he was inside bleeding to death.”
“This isn’t your fault, Chief,” the detective admonished him sternly. “You had no way of knowing that this happened. And you would have helped him if you had known. It is NOT your fault!”
“Tell that to my conscience,” Blair spat, whirling around and fixing a tormented gaze on his partner. “The door wasn’t even locked. If I’d just tried it, I could have helped him. I had the chance to save him and I blew it!”
“This was out of your hands,” Ellison tried to console him. “You had no reason to think anything was wrong. If you had, you would have done something. This is a tragedy and I know how much you’re hurting, Blair. But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“What if he was conscious?” the younger man demanded in anguish. “What if he heard me out there, knocking and calling his name? It’s bad enough to think about this happening to him. The agony he must have suffered. But I can’t bear to think about what he must have felt when I was out there. Having his rescue right there, and he couldn’t cry out for help. And then what he must have felt when I left... This IS my fault, Jim. Nate would still be alive now if I had only...”
The sentinel lunged forward and caught his guide as he turned to bolt off, not about to let him run when he was so distraught. Realizing that nothing he could say would be of any comfort to his friend just then, he merely pulled him in closer and wrapped his arms around him. Blair struggled against him for a moment, then the fight slowly drained out of him and he collapsed against Jim’s chest, for once glad of the rain as it helped mask the tears sliding down his cheeks.
“Let’s go inside,” Ellison urged as his partner began to calm down, wanting to get his shivering friend out of the cold rain. He felt Sandburg’s nod and let him go, but he kept an arm around his shoulders as the anthropologist stepped back. Silently they entered the building and took the short elevator ride to the third floor. Jim opened the door to the loft and turned on the light as he ushered his roommate in, intent on getting him warmed up and assessing him for emotional shock. But then the sentinel paused, turning to look quizzically at his guide.
“Why do I hear meowing?”
Jim upended the bag of Meow Mix, filling a small bowl with food and setting it down on the kitchen floor for the cat that was threading impatiently between his legs. Once Blair had explained the origins of their new houseguest, the detective had obligingly returned to the sealed apartment and had retrieved the litter box, cat food, and a few toy mice he had found. Since the feline seemed to be the most persistent and vocal of his problems, he dealt with Maslow first before running upstairs and changing into dry clothes. He instructed Sandburg to do the same, a little worried about how dazed his partner was acting. But once Blair warmed up and had a steaming mug in his hands, the glaze left his eyes and Ellison started to relax. He refilled his roommate’s cup and got one of his own, sipping at it as he slid into the seat across from Sandburg at the table.
“Chief, there was no forced entry or sign of a struggle,” he began gently. “Which means that whoever did this was most likely somebody Nate knew. We need to start getting some background information on him. Are you up for that?”
“Yeah,” Blair sighed, pushing back his damp curls with his hand. “But I don’t know how much I can give you. He wasn’t real forthcoming about his personal life.”
A warning bell went off in the detective’s mind, but he didn’t comment. Sandburg had become surprisingly defensive when it was alleged that Sweet Roy might not have been on the up and up, and Ellison decided he’d better tread lightly until he had compelling evidence that Nate was hiding something shady.
“What about next of kin?”
“I don’t know,” Sandburg replied, shaking his head. “He never talked about any family. Always gave me the impression that he was on his own. He did have a girlfriend, though. Cilla. Maybe she would know for sure.”
“All right, we’ll talk to her. And I’ll have Simon get me the clearance to check out his records at Rainier. Hey!” he commanded sharply. “Get down from there!” The cat looked over at him from his new perch on the kitchen counter, twitching his tail slightly as he pretended to think it over. Waiting just long enough to make it seem like his idea, Maslow leapt lightly to the floor and began to diligently groom his whiskers with deliberate casual nonchalance. The detective shook his head slightly and turned back to his partner. “Now, did Nate ever mention anyone hassling him or giving him trouble?”
“Oh, come on, Jim,” Blair said in annoyance. “You don’t think I’d have told you that before now?”
“Ok, I’m sorry,” the sentinel tried to placate him.
“Look, I know you’re just doing your job, and believe me, nobody wants you to catch this guy more than me. But I don’t know anything that can help you. Nate was a great guy and... everyone loved him.”
“Chief, listen,” Ellison began as his friend’s voice broke and he rose from the table.
“I’m sorry, man,” Blair whispered, turning his face away as the hot tears stung his eyes once more. “I can’t do this now.”
“Ok,” Jim murmured in understanding.
Sandburg nodded briefly and headed down the hall for his room, his shoulders slumped in grief and his arms wrapped tightly around his chest to ward off the pain. The sentinel was powerless to help his guide, and he hated feeling that helpless. But it was a burden Blair was going to have to shoulder on his own. All he could do was be a friend when one was needed. It would be hard, but Jim was confident that his partner was strong enough to get through it. He just needed some time.
Simon waved his detective in, his eyebrows lifting in surprise as Ellison entered the office and took a chair, alone.
“Where’s Sandburg?” the captain demanded. “I was betting he’d be haunting this place until this was solved.”
“He’s home sick today,” Jim answered, gazing hopefully at the coffeepot and tapping a finger against the empty mug in his hand as a not so subtle hint.
“It must be serious if it was enough to pull him off the case,” Banks said, holding out a hand for the mug and agreeably filling it up with his newest blend.
“I don’t think he really wants to be on the case,” Ellison told him, taking a sip of the flavorful brew he was given. “I think he knows that he’s too involved, and he’s willing to just bow out and let us take this one.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Simon attested, topping off his own mug. “So where are we now?”
“Nothing new,” the detective reported. “Forensics couldn’t turn up anything, so we’re back to old Mrs. Birrer who saw a strange man leaving the building around the time of the attack.”
“Maybe we should bring her in and have her look at some mug books,” Banks suggested.
“I think I can narrow the field a bit, sir,” Jim told him. “If we could get access to Radner’s case files, we could look for men matching the description Mrs. Birrer gave us, and then set up a photo array. It may be a long shot, but I think it’s worth a try.”
“Those files are confidential,” the captain reminded him. “No access without a warrant, and no judge is going to give you one based on a long shot.”
“Well, what if we gave the description to someone who did have access?” Ellison persisted. “The staff down at the treatment center all thought the world of Nate, and they seemed very cooperative. If one of them could match the description with a suspect, that should be enough for a warrant, right?”
“Now that is a long shot,” Simon chuckled. “But, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“Excuse me, Captain,” Brown called out as he stuck his head in through the open door. “Sorry to interrupt, but Rainier just faxed over Radner’s records. And you guys are not going to believe this!”
When Ellison entered the loft, he found his roommate lying on his back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as he absently stroked the contented feline curled up on his chest, purring loudly.
“Hey,” the detective greeted his friend as he took a seat in the chair next to him. “How are you feeling?”
“Ok,” Blair murmured unconvincingly. He looked terrible, but Jim was sure it was due to emotional stress, rather than physical illness. Sandburg pulled himself up slightly to more of an upright position, causing the cat to jump to the floor with an injured air, indignant over being disturbed. Ellison couldn’t hold back a grin as the feline relocated himself to his lap, kneading his knee gently in appreciative response for the scratching he administered to the soft ears. He had initially agreed to tolerate the cat’s presence because of Blair’s desire to do something for his slain friend by caring for his beloved pet. And in support of that, the sentinel vowed not to gripe about a few animal hairs on the furniture or the fact that he had to keep his sense of smell dialed back to avoid getting overwhelmed by the litter box. But when he had awoken in the middle of the night to find a warm, furry bundle cuddled up peacefully at his side, he couldn’t help but admit, at least to himself, that the sacrifices were worth a little unconditional love. Jim had never been much of a “cat person”, but he was starting to like having the friendly feline around.
“What kind of a name is Maslow, anyway?”
“Nate named him after Abraham Maslow. The psychologist.” Blair glanced at his friend, getting a blank stare in return. “You know, he came up with the hierarchy of need.”
“Oh, right,” Ellison said as the light dawned. He studied the cat thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head in disapproval. “I would have gone with Freud.”
Blair smiled slightly and sat up the rest of the way, pulling his feet up to sit cross legged and drawing the pillow into his lap, resting his elbows on it.
“Any new developments?”
“Actually there is something,” the detective answered. “We tracked down Nate’s father.”
“And?” Sandburg prompted.
“Mark Radner.”
“The hotel guy?” Blair spluttered. “No way, man. That guy has to be loaded. No, Nate was working to put himself through school.”
“I spoke with Mr. Radner today,” Jim continued. “He had a falling out with his son when Nate told him he didn’t want to go into business. Definitely didn’t approve of his career choice. Flipped out big time and said no son of his was going to degrade himself to being a lowly social worker. The old man promised to disown him if he tried to pursue it, and he made good on his word, too. He hasn’t had any contact with his son since the day Nate enrolled at Rainier.”
The younger man was silent for a moment, reeling from the realization that his unpretentious, hard working friend was in fact the heir to the Radner fortune.
“Do you think that could be part of why he was killed?” he asked slowly.
“It’s definitely an angle to consider.”
“And you still think one of his clients did it?”
“Yeah, Chief, I do,” the detective told him. “Nate spent ten hours a week for the last two years dealing with mental cases and junkies. What little evidence we have in this case tells me that it wasn’t a random attack. And I can’t find anyone else who had motive to want to hurt him. You were right. He was a great guy.”
“Yeah, he was,” Blair whispered sadly. He was quiet, lost in thought for several minutes, then he looked up at his friend with a ghost of a smile. “I met him back when I was an undergrad. We were in Psych 101 together, and we got kicked out of our study group because we were always digressing off into these long sociological debates. He was just so passionate, you know.” Sandburg paused again, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “I guess I never even knew how much. Nate obviously believed in what he was doing enough to give up his family and his fortune. And he never complained once about having to work so hard to support himself. It was his dream to get his Ph.D. in sociology, and he used to say no sacrifice was too great as long as he earned his doctorate.”
“He sounds like an amazing man,” Ellison said quietly. “I wish I’d known him better.”
“Nate gave his life to those people that came to the treatment center,” Sandburg sighed. “It’s not fair that he had to do it in the literal sense, too.”
“I’m going to find whoever did this,” Jim promised him. “I’ve got a few leads I’m tracking down, and I’ll catch the creep. We’ll get Nate justice.”
Blair nodded, but in truth he just felt weary. Of course he wanted to see the monster capable of torturing and killing a good man brought to justice, but in the long run, what did it matter? It wouldn’t bring his friend back, or ease the ache in his heart or assuage the guilt that was eating him up inside. Nate was gone. And he was going to have to learn to live with that. It was not a new lesson, but one that never got any easier, no matter how many times he was forced to repeat it.
The detective could see that his efforts to cheer his friend up were failing miserably. He was worried about Blair, hating to see him in pain and struggling with his own ill-deserved guilt, and it bothered him that there was nothing he could do or say to help. Ellison knew that Sandburg had his own way of processing things and working through his emotions, and that in time he would make peace with his loss. But he was impatient, and it was hard for him to stand passively by and wait for Blair to come to grips with things on his own. Stifling a sigh, Jim decided to step up his efforts to solve the case, the only thing he was able to do for his friend. Maybe the sooner he could give Blair closure, the faster he would start to heal.
People began filing out of the auditorium and the detective waited until the stream became a trickle before attempting to make his way down to the stage. Blair was still up there, speaking with the head of the sociology department, but he excused himself and jumped down into the house as he saw his partner approach.
“That was a nice ceremony you put together, Chief. Nate would have loved it.”
“Nah, he would have hated it,” Sandburg chuckled. “He never would have wanted all this fuss made over him. But he had a lot of friends here, and when Mr. Radner decided on a private cremation, I just felt like we needed to have some sort of memorial service for him.”
“To share the pain and start the healing,” Ellison murmured, summarizing the speech that his younger friend had so eloquently given.
“Something like that. I didn’t see you come in, man.”
“I was a little late so I hung out in the back,” Jim told him. “But I wanted to tell you that I took the photo array to Mrs. Birrer this morning and she picked out our suspect.”
“Jermaine Bolger,” Blair read, glancing over the rap sheet his partner handed to him.
“Heroin addict. Nate’s been counseling him for the last six months, but Bolger hasn’t been back to the treatment center since he was killed. His last known address was a wash, but I’m going out this afternoon and check a few likely haunts. Want to come along?”
“As much as I’d love to spend the day crawling through shooting galleries, I have to pass,” Sandburg said wryly. “I’m meeting Cilla back at the loft.”
“Nate’s girlfriend?”
“Yeah. She’s going to pick up Maslow.”
“You’re letting her have the cat?” Ellison demanded.
“This has been really hard on her,” Blair explained. “And she really loves him. I think it’s the right thing to do.”
“You’re probably right,” Jim agreed indifferently, although he couldn’t deny to himself that it hadn’t been that bad having the feline around, and that he might even miss his new bedfellow a little bit. “Ok, I’ll catch you later, then.”
“Happy hunting,” Sandburg called after him.
Blair knew that Cilla would be waiting for him, but for reasons he couldn’t understand, he somehow found himself downtown, parked on a bench across from the treatment center where Nate had worked, watching as people drifted in and out of the building. People that had no options, no hope, and nowhere else to turn. The people that most of society would cross the street to avoid, but who Nate welcomed with open arms. But now he was gone. One less person those in need could look to for help. One less friend. One less good man taken from a world that needed all it could get.
Sandburg sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing a hand across his forehead. If only he’d tried the door instead of just knocking. If only he’d gotten back to the building earlier. If only he’d tried tracking Nate down that afternoon. If only... If only he could go back and relive that day all over again. Any little variation in events, and Nate might not have died. But he couldn’t go back, and things happened the way they happened, and Nate was dead. He couldn’t change any of it. The only thing left to do was to learn to accept what happened and try to move on. And if he still felt the need to guilt himself over something, let it be for taking his friend for granted and not making the most of the time they’d had together. For more often than not, plans seemed to fall victim to his busy schedule. And now it was too late. Nate was gone, and there would be no more grabbing a beer or catching a movie with him. And as Blair rose and headed toward his car so he could go meet Cilla back at the loft, he was left wishing that he had taken the time to appreciate the warm presence of Nate in his life back when he still had it.
Blair hesitated in the doorway for a moment, then he entered Major Crimes and made his way to his partner’s desk, dropping his backpack on the floor and hanging up his jacket.
“It’s about time you showed up, Hairboy,” Brown called out, coming over as he caught sight of the observer. “I hate to admit it, but we were starting to miss you around here.” The detective lowered his voice, all kidding aside as he put a warm hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You doing all right, man?”
“Yeah, I’m ok,” Sandburg assured him. “I heard you guys have someone in custody?”
“Jim’s got him in the interrogation room now. Go check it out.”
“Thanks, H.”
Blair left the squad and walked down the hall, letting himself into the vacant observation room. Through the mirrored glass he saw his partner grilling Jermaine Bolger, a scarecrow of a man with long, greasy brown hair and dead eyes. Sandburg just watched for a minute, trying to see a killer in the man before him. Then he reached out and flipped the switch on the wall, activating the speakers so he could hear what was being said.
He’d missed the first part of the interrogation, but it was easy enough to get the gist of the story. Bolger was jonesing pretty bad, and was spilling his guts without too much prodding on Ellison’s behalf. He relayed that he had found out who his social worker’s father really was and had gone to his apartment to ask for money. But he was high and things quickly got out of hand as he had attacked and tied up the only person in the world that had given a damn about him. The smacks and the cuts at first had just been to encourage Nate to call the old man and tell him he needed cash. But when he refused, Bolger’s rage and frustration grew and he lost control. When he started to come down, he realized what he’d done and fled in terror. Leaving Nathan Radner alone, helpless, and suffering for almost ten hours until he finally died.
Sandburg had heard enough, and he left the observation room and returned to the squad, taking a seat at his partner’s desk and staring sadly into space. Simon eventually came to talk to him, sitting on the edge of the desk and asking if he was ok.
“This whole mess... It all came down to money.”
“You should know by now that it’s the root of 90% of our cases,” Banks told him gently.
“I know,” Blair sighed. “It just...”
“Sucks?” Simon filled in for him with a straight face.
“Yeah,” Sandburg agreed, grinning in spite of himself. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“How did you find me?” Blair asked as his partner approached. The sentinel gave him a pointed look as he eased himself down onto the grassy lawn beside him. “Right, stupid question. I guess I meant, what are you doing here?”
“Bolger was sentenced this morning. They convicted him for felony murder.”
“He’s going to jail?”
“For life. Small consolation, but it’s something. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Thanks.”
“So what are you doing out here?” Ellison asked, glancing around at the milling population of students. Some were passing by purposefully, heading for the library, the computer lab, or a late class. But most were just enjoying their youth on a beautiful afternoon, playing hackey sack and frisbee, listening to music, or just relaxing in the warm sun. “Aren’t you supposed to be having office hours?”
“I cancelled them today,” Sandburg told him. “I’ve realized that every now and then you have to make time to stop and smell the roses.”
“You learn that from Nate?” Jim asked gently.
“In a way.” Blair was quiet for a minute, reflecting. “You know, Maslow came up with this management strategy.”
“Pretty impressive for a cat.”
“Abraham Maslow, the psychologist,” Sandburg clarified in exasperation, even though he knew his friend was only joking. “Most of his peers were focused on abnormal psych, but Maslow studied the other side, researching what makes a mentally healthy, well adjusted person. His theories about management and leadership came from his self-actualization work. You get better results building your employees up rather than cutting them down.”
“A real groundbreaking hypothesis,” Ellison said sarcastically.
“Well, it was at the time. And only a handful of people follow it today, even though it’s success has been proven.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“Maslow called it Eupsychian. It means having a good mind or soul. I was just thinking that Nate believed everyone had a good soul. He always looked at the clients he counseled as good people who did bad things because of the circumstances or situations they were in. He really thought that he could help anyone who came to the center, if he could just get them away from whatever was dragging them down and get them to see the good inside themselves that he saw. I guess in a way I always wanted to believe him. You know, that everyone was inherently good and there was always hope that you could reach out to that part of them. But then when I saw what had been done to Nate, and what he went through... It was hard for me to see the good in anything for awhile.”
“How about now?”
“Well, I realized during the memorial service that Nate really touched a lot of lives. His friends, and his colleagues, and he really did help a lot of people at the treatment center. And it hit me that he may be gone, but all the good he did while he was here didn’t go with him. Those people that knew him and cared about him still carry that around with them, and they always will. Even his father came around. It may have been too late for reconciliation, but he started a scholarship in his son’s name and donated a pile of money to the center. He said that they knew his son better than he did and they’d know how best to distribute the funds where they were needed. And a lot of good is going to come from that.”
“Do you still feel guilty about what happened?” the sentinel asked.
“Yeah, a little,” Blair replied truthfully.
“Chief, it’s not your fault that Nate died.”
“My head knows that,” Sandburg told him with a rueful smile. “I think it’s going to take a little bit longer to convince my heart. But I’m trying. Nate certainly wouldn’t have wanted me to blame myself. I guess it was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time, but not knowing it in time. And I’m just going to have to accept that and move on.”
“I think that’s a good plan,” Ellison agreed. “But before you move on, how about we both take a little time to stop and smell the roses?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“A beer down at the café?” Jim suggested.
“Yeah,” Blair grinned, nodding his head sagely. “I could be down with that.”
They left the lawn behind the student center and walked across campus, reaching the busy street that bordered the university and boasted a bustling row of shops and restaurants and bars. The café was a popular place for students, and it was already busy, being Friday afternoon. But they managed to find a table on the crowded patio where they could continue to enjoy the balmy weather.
“I’m curious, Jim. What do you think of the whole Eupyschian thing?”
“I don’t know, Chief,” the sentinel sighed, spinning his coaster on the tabletop with his fingers. “I think I’ve seen too much evil in my time to really buy into it. I’ll settle for just knowing that there’s enough good in the world to balance out the bad for now.”
The younger man nodded thoughtfully as their waitress appeared and set two beers down before them. Ellison paid, giving the attractive young woman a generous tip, then he looked at his friend seriously as she left.
“I know you said Nate wouldn’t have enjoyed a lot of hoopla made over him,” he began. “How do you think he’d feel about us raising a glass?”
“I think he would’ve liked that,” Blair smiled, hefting his mug. The detective did the same, and they clinked their glasses together. “To Nate.”
Jim grinned, winking at his friend over the rim of his glass.
“And say hello to Maslow for us.”
Finis