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Blair sat in the holding cell that he shared with two other men, neither of whom seemed interested in bothering him. They slouched on the small cot-like seat, propped against the wall. One snored softly. The other just stared at the ceiling.

Incarceration was boring.

Blair rested on the floor, his knees pulled up and his back against the wall. His butt was beginning to hurt, and he was hungry. It had been hours since he’d been arrested, booked and thoroughly searched. They’d tried to interrogate him, but he’d learned enough working with the cops to say the magic words, "I don’t want you questioning me further without my attorney present."

He’d tried calling Jim at Major Crime, but had gotten only voice mail. He'd left a message, and hoped that Jim got it soon. He didn't bother cushioning the news, letting Jim know that he'd been arrested for possession of marijuana with intent to distribute, they were holding him in the federal courthouse, and he really, really needed help.

C'mon, Jim. Please, please check your messages. Please get me out of here.

With a tired sigh, Blair dropped his forehead to his knees. God, he had the crappiest luck. Only he could get arrested for a crime he hadn't committed weeks from his graduation. Chancellor Edwards would have a field day. He had a sudden vision of Edwards feeding his diploma into her personal shredder, self-satisfied gloating spread across her face as she chuckled in glee. Even if the charges ended up being dropped – God, please – he wouldn’t be able to erase the experience of being arrested in front of Hargrove Hall from his mind. Having all those students, and even some faculty, watching as he was cuffed and led into a squad car was one of his most humiliating moments, and that kind of image wasn’t something any of the spectators were likely to forget.

He was so stupid! He'd walked right into the set-up without a clue. He’d never have pegged Scott as a drug-runner. The kid had always been a diligent student with a polite manner.

He set me up.

A foul taste rose in the back of Blair’s throat. Why me? What did I ever do?


The conversation he'd had earlier with Scott and Gil came back to him. Scott hadn’t wanted him involved, had actually tried to excuse Blair.

Okay, so Scott hadn’t wanted to set him up, but he’d known at the time what was in those boxes, and he hadn’t said anything.

Just what the hell have you gotten yourself into, Scott? Or, what have you gotten us into?

Suzanne Tomaki slowed her footsteps as she entered the Administration Building. Most of the time she loved her job. As Rainier's Chief of Security, she was good at her job, too. Rainier was one of the safest university campuses in the state, and she had no regrets about having left the Cascade Police Department.

The job had its distasteful moments as well, though, none more distasteful than her current task. Sighing, she straightened her uniform tie and her jacket, then opened the door into the Chancellor's office.

The young man at the reception desk looked up and waved her in.

"Go on in, she's been waiting to hear from you."

Taking a deep breath, Suzanne entered the inner office.

Chancellor Edwards looked up from the document she had been reading.

"Chief Tomaki, how did it go? Did they catch anyone?"

"They made one arrest, and removed a vehicle and other items of evidence, including a large amount of marijuana. The agent in charge said that they'll be continuing their investigation, and they'll keep us informed."

"Who did they arrest? Was it a student or faculty, or an outsider?"

Now came the hard part.

"It was a Rainier student, Chancellor. Blair Sandburg."

The Chancellor's eyes widened, and Suzanne could swear that she saw a flicker of a feral grin cross her face before it was replaced with a stern expression.

"Sandburg? It figures. That man has been nothing but trouble for this university. I knew we shouldn't have let him return."

"He is innocent until proven guilty, you know," Suzanne asserted.

"Yes, well…please give the DEA any cooperation or assistance that they need. And please inform Sandburg that, until he is found guilty or innocent, he is not welcome at Rainier. If he steps foot on campus, I want him arrested for trespassing. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am, quite clear."

"Thank you, Chief Tomaki. Keep me apprised."

Dismissed, Suzanne turned and left, the Chancellor's voice following her down the hall.

"Peter, pull out the Board of Directors file, and get University counsel on the line right away."

Rafe strolled into the bullpen, a cup of coffee in hand. He noticed an unusual silence and looked up as he reached his desk. Henri stood near Megan's desk, talking in hushed tones with the Australian inspector, who gazed up at him with wide, angry eyes.

"Hey." Rafe set his mug on the desk. "What's up, guys?"

"Huh?" Joel walked in. "Something up?"

Brown turned away from Megan, his face grim. "Sandburg's been arrested for possession of marijuana with intent to distribute."

"What?" Rafe fell back against the edge of his desk. "Is this a joke?"

"Unfortunately, not." Henri shook his head. "Jim and the captain just left."

Joel stared at Brown, his mouth open. "I...Damn. Poor Sandburg. What happened? This is a mix-up, obviously. Was he in the wrong place at the wrong time, or something?"

Henri shrugged. "I don't know the details, but that's gotta be it, I'm sure. You know with Hairboy's luck..."

Joel nodded. "Yeah," he sighed heavily, "I know. Do we know about bail yet?"

Henri shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Well, with a first offense, I'm thinking it'll be around fifty grand, right?"

Rafe nodded. "Probably."

"So," Joel continued, "we raise five grand amongst ourselves and go to a bail bondsman."

"I'm in on that!" Megan spoke up finally.

"Me too." Henri smiled, nodding vigorously. "He's not going to stay there a moment longer than necessary."

"Right." Rafe swallowed. "Count me in. Let's just hope his bail hearing goes off without a hitch...and soon."

Simon walked alongside Jim, following the booking officer as she led them to the cell.

His captain's badge came with certain privileges, and today he was using them liberally. Although the DEA had jurisdiction over Blair's case, because state law had also allegedly been violated, the local PD had an interest, as well.

Jim's footsteps pounded heavily against the hard floor. "I swear, if these feds screwed up..."

"Easy, Jim. Let's just talk to Sandburg first."

The officer unlocked a door and led them down another hallway. Several feet later, they stopped at a modest cell that held three men. The figure on the floor with his knees pulled up and his hair hanging forward was unmistakable.

"Sandburg." Jim rushed forward, grabbing the bars.

Blair's head shot up. "Jim?" He scrambled to his feet and pressed against the bars, facing Jim. "You got my message? This is crazy. I didn't do anything. I was..." He closed his mouth, eyeing the officer, afraid that anything he said could and would be used against him, even if he would only be proclaiming his innocence.

"Are you all right? Have they been treating you okay?" Jim asked, looking Blair up and down, then checking out his cellmates and the rest of the cell.

"Yeah, all right. Jim, Simon, you know I didn't, I wouldn't…"

"Don't worry, Chief." Jim covered Blair's hand with his own, their fingers wrapped around one of the bars. "I'll have you out of here soon."

"How'd this happen, Sandburg?" Simon asked, moving closer.

Blair leaned his forehead against the cage. "Because I'm an idiot," he whispered low enough for only Jim and Simon to hear. "I was helping a friend load some Mobile Meals boxes into a van. They set me up. I was the only one there when the heat came down." He looked up at Jim, his eyes wide. "I swear, man, I had no idea what was really in the boxes."

Jim nodded gently. "I know, Blair. Don't worry, we'll straighten this mess out."

All heads turned as Jim and Simon entered the bullpen. Jim strode silently to his desk, grimfaced, picked up the phone and began dialing. Simon continued straight into his office, poured himself a cup of coffee and took a deep gulp. He turned and, seeing all of his detectives staring back and forth between him and Jim, waved them into his office.

Once everyone had entered, he closed the door behind them and leaned back against his desk, holding up a hand to silence the barrage of questions.

"All right, listen up. Sandburg's being held at the Federal Building on a possession with intent to distribute charge. He's all right, Jim and I just saw him in holding, but they won't let us talk with him further until they've had a chance to interrogate him and he's been arraigned. He's exercising his Miranda rights and isn't talking until he gets an attorney…"

"Good for him…"

"He's not gonna have to use a public defender, is he?"

Simon waved his hand for silence again.

"Jim's on top of that. He's calling Sara Inouye, she's the best. His arraignment will be tomorrow morning, unless it gets continued."

"She may be the best, but she doesn't come cheap," Megan sighed.

Simon nodded. "Jim says he's got it covered. Maybe he floated a loan from a couple of other Ellisons."

"What about bail?" Rafe asked.

"We won't know until tomorrow at the arraignment, but knowing Judge Cohen, I'd expect that he'd ask for the standard in cases like this. I think it will be $50,000 bail. Sandburg isn't even going to have a start on a down payment for that, so…"

"I think we'll be able to handle that, Captain," Joel interrupted. He held up the notebook in his right hand. "Everyone here has contributed, and a couple of uniforms that overheard said that they will, too. With a bail bondsman, we only need to come up with $5,000 cash. We've already got almost $3,500, and we'll find a way to come up with the rest by tomorrow morning."

"No matter what, we'll get it covered, Cap," Henri added. "Blair's not gonna be in there a minute longer than he has to."

Everyone in the room nodded assent. The faces that surrounded him, expressions of grim determination pasted upon them, filled Simon with a renewed sense of pride in his unit.

"Well done. Joel, put me down there, too. Whatever you need to reach the total, I'll cover it."

No one had noticed that Jim had quietly opened the door and entered the room, and now stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open and a stunned expression on his face. It took him a moment to find his voice.

"You guys, I…I don't know what to say…"

Rafe spoke up for the group. "You don't have to say anything, Jim. Blair would go to the mat for any one of us, and you know it. It's the least we can do."

Simon stood and walked over to Jim's side, clapping him warmly on the back in support.

"Sandburg's one of us, Jim, and we stand up for our own."

"I know that, Simon. Rafe, Megan, Henry, Joel…thank you. It'll mean a lot to him."

Megan, standing closest of the detectives, reached over and strung an arm around Jim's waist, giving him a little hug before returning to her spot.

Simon returned to his seat, perched on the edge of his desk. "So, lady and gentlemen, let's get down to work on clearing our colleague. Jim, where do we stand for an attorney?"

"I reached Sara Inouye, and she's tentatively agreed to take the case. She's gonna call the feds and arrange to meet with Sandburg ASAP, and let me know so I can be there, too. I don't even know much about the charges or the case against him yet, all I know is that the lead investigator is a guy named Brainerd. We'll know more after we've met with Blair this afternoon."

"All right. For now, everyone get back to work on your current cases. Rafe, Brown, see what you can take off from Ellison's and Sandburg's caseload. Once we have something to work with, we'll do our own investigation and make sure that Sandburg doesn't go down for something that he didn't do. And everyone…" he stopped and looked around the room, ending with a pointed stare at Jim, "we'll do it by the book. You hear me?"

Murmurs of assent and several, "yes, sir" filled the room as the detectives filed out. Jim held Simon's stare for a moment before replying himself.

"By the book. Yes, sir."

"Damn it, I hate this." Jim glanced at Simon seated in the chair as he paced in the lobby of the federal building.

The feds were interrogating Blair and had refused to allow Jim or Simon to be present. Sara Inouye, Blair's attorney, was in with him, and between her and Blair's own smarts, Jim felt confident that the agents wouldn't get Sandburg to reveal anything potentially damaging.

Jim cocked his head. The agents may not have wanted him in the interrogation room, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. He honed his hearing, searching, and finally tuned in to Blair's voice.

"I already told you, I had no idea that drugs were in those boxes," Blair said, his voice flat.

"Really? Someone with your record?" a deep, harsh voice prodded. Papers rustled. "Let's just take a look, here. Over three years ago you were admitted to the hospital in critical condition for a near-fatal drug overdose after you shot up a police garage."

"Mr. Sandburg had done nothing illegal," a woman responded crisply, and Jim recognized the voice as the attorney's. "As the police and hospital records show, the drug overdose occurred when pizza tainted with Golden was delivered to Major Crime. My client has nothing to say on that matter."

"What she said," Blair muttered.

"All right. This next incident IS relevant. Approximately two years ago you were arrested for possession of heroin. A large quantity of it was in the trunk of your car, wasn't it?"

"Those charges were dropped," Ms. Inouye answered. "Mr. Sandburg had been kidnapped and his car stolen. In fact, he assisted with the capture of the perpetrators."

"It seems you just have a string of bad luck, Mr. Sandburg. Didn't the warehouse you were living in explode because of a meth lab?"

"Don't answer that, Mr. Sandburg."

"How is it that you consistently end up in the vicinity of illegal narcotics?"

"Uh... I work as a consultant with the police."

Jim smiled at that comment. Score one for Sandburg.

"And the meth lab in your home had to do with your work as a police consultant?"

"Your facts are incorrect," Ms. Inouye interrupted. "The meth lab was not in Mr. Sandburg's home."

"Ah, that's right. It was next door, wasn't it?"

"I didn't know what was going on there."

"Of course not. Just like you didn't have anything to do with your girlfriend Iris and her heroin, and just like you had no idea that marijuana was in those boxes. C'mon, Mr. Sandburg, we've asked around. We know you have a preference for natural remedies. What was it? You thought you were doing a good deed by providing medicinal marijuana to sick elderly people in need?"

"I didn't know that marijuana was in the boxes," Blair replied flatly.

"Really? Do you think a jury will believe--"

"I really don't want to answer any more questions. I've told you everything. I'm tired."

"I believe that concludes this interview. My client has nothing further to say." A chair scraped across the hard floor. "I expect that you will abide by Mr. Sandburg's wishes and not approach him with any other questions while I'm gone, and Mr. Sandburg, I'm advising you not to answer any questions and not to speak with anyone, not even your cell mates, without me present."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Okay. I guess that's it for now. I don't have to tell you things don't look good for your client."

"Goodbye, Agent Matthews."

"I'll escort Mr. Sandburg back to his cell."

Jim plopped into the chair next to Simon. "Damn." The feds were twisting everything, making it look like Sandburg had a history with drugs.

"What is it, Jim?"

"They're pulling out all the stops, Captain." Jim shifted in his seat to face Simon. "They've brought up the Golden incident, the arrest for heroin after his kidnapping, and even the fact that the warehouse he'd lived in blew up because of the meth lab next door."

"Shit." Simon sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "That arrest was our screw up. We never should have put him through booking. Now, that mistake is coming back to slap us in the face."

"Yeah." Jim rose to his feet again. "They're taking him back to his cell. I'm going to talk to his attorney about bail."

As it turned out, the bail hearing came the next day. Jim, Simon, Rafe, Henri, Megan, and Joel were all present to lend their support. Blair, dressed in an orange jumpsuit with his hands cuffed in front, sat at a table next to his attorney. Sara Inouye was the picture of calm professionalism, the petite Asian woman quietly explaining the proceedings to her client. One of the federal prosecutors and another man, who Jim assumed to be a young recruit based on his nondescript suit and rigid manner, sat at the neighboring table.

Jim kept his eyes on Blair while the prosecution presented its case as to why bail should be denied, or in the alternative, set at two hundred thousand dollars. Blair seemed content to stare at the table, his shoulders hunched. His hair was held back in a ponytail, leaving his face exposed, and Jim, although he was seated back and to the side, could see enough of the young man's expression to know that Blair was far from okay. He looked scared.

"And, as you can see," the prosecutor droned on, "with no family in the area and employment that has proven uncertain in the past, Mr. Sandburg presents a substantial flight risk."

Sara Inouye rose from her seat when the judge looked at her. "Mr. Sandburg has been living in Cascade for well over six years. He has been studying at Rainier during that time, and he's currently employed by both the university and the Cascade Police Department. He owns a condominium in the area, and he has made substantial ties to members of the community, including Detective James Ellison and Captain Simon Banks. The prosecution's allegations that Mr. Sandburg was involved in distributing marijuana to sick, elderly persons has been backed by very little evidence. In fact, during the DEA's surveillance and investigation over the course of the past two years into this ring, this is the first time any agent has witnessed Mr. Sandburg's presence in any activity associated with the drug ring. Considering that the arrest took place on campus in the very hall that..."

"Okay. Enough." The judge sighed. "Bail is set at $20,000." He slammed the gavel down and rose. "This hearing is adjourned."

Jim read the Jail Rules and Regulations posted on the wall for the hundredth time, barely noticing the words as he waited for Blair's release. When the electronic door lock buzzed, he turned but was disappointed that it was only Sara Inouye, straightening her well-fitting suit jacket as she approached him with a smile.

"Detective. Blair will be out in a few minutes."

"What's taking so long?"

"We had another little matter to take care of. They just served Blair with a search warrant for his residence and car. They also informed him that the University has given them permission to search his office, since it is University property they don't need Blair's permission. Agents are on their way right now to both locations."

"Damn! Excuse me for a moment."

Jim pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed quickly.

"Simon, it's Ellison. They've gotten the search warrants for Blair's car, office, and home. Could you send someone over to the loft to keep an eye on them and take care of Libby until we get there, and someone to Rainier to do the same? Thanks. We should be out of here shortly. I'll be in touch."

The door buzzed again as he closed the phone and returned it to his pocket, and this time Blair walked out of the door, a large manila envelope in his hand. He raised tired eyes to meet Jim's.

"Hey, Jim."

"Hey, Chief, it's about time. Let's get out of here."

Blair reached over and shook the attorney's hand solemnly. "Thanks, Ms. Inouye, for your help."

"You're welcome. Now don't forget to stay near a phone or keep your cell phone handy. They can call you back for further questioning at any time. If they do, not a word without me, remember. And if you need anything or have any questions, you have my cell and pager numbers. Don't hesitate to call, any hour of the day or night."

"Thank you."

Jim reached over to shake her hand as well. "Yes, thank you very much. Come on, Chief, let's blow this Popsicle stand."

Just as Blair began to turn right toward the front doors, Jim stopped him with a hand on his elbow.

"Whoa, Chief. Not that way. We're taking the back way out. We should be able to avoid the press for now. And I've got Simon's car, just in case they'd be looking for the truck."

He couldn't help but notice the wince that Blair made at the mention of the press, and gently squeezed his arm. "Don't worry about it, Chief, we'll handle it."

The rest of the trip to the car was made in silence. After a quick peek out of the locked door, to thankfully find that no reporters were awaiting them, they hustled to the car and sped out of the parking lot.

Several blocks down the street, Jim broke the silence.

"Where to, Chief?"

"Home. Just home, please."

"I don't think that's such a good idea right now, Blair. They're executing the search warrants. Simon has someone keeping an eye on them, so there's no reason for you to be there and watch them make a mess of the place."

He didn't think it would have been possible, but Blair slumped even further down in the seat.

"Great. Just great," he murmured.

"Look, why don't we head over to Madge's and get some breakfast, my treat. I'm sure you could use a decent meal."

"I'm not really hungry, Jim."

"Humor me, okay, Chief? I need breakfast, and you need to eat to keep your strength up."

A bare nod of his head, and Blair continued to stare out of the window as they headed across town to their favorite restaurant.

Taking his change from the cashier, Jim pocketed it then followed Blair out to the parking lot.

"I wish you would have eaten more, Chief."

"It was good, Jim, thanks. Just wasn't hungry."

Jim's answer was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. He stopped and flipped it open to reply.


"Jim, it's Joel. They want to search your loft, too, since it's connected to Blair's apartment. They've already called to find a judge to issue an additional search warrant. I thought you'd want to know."

"Thanks, Joel. I'm on my way."

He slammed the phone shut and dropped it back into his pocket.

"Look, Blair, I'm going to drop you off at Major Crime, all right? I'll catch up with you later."

"What's up?"

"They're working up a warrant to search the loft, and I want to go and keep an eye on them. There's no need for you to be there, Joel's keeping an eye on your place."

"I'll go with you."

"Chief, why put yourself through it? If you're there, they'll try to get to you, try to get you to say something that will trip you up."

"Jim, I need to be there. Since I'm innocent, I can't say anything that will trip me up, now can I? And they're not gonna drag you into this, too, if there's anything I can do about it."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"Jim, I'm going home. If you don't want to take me, I'll call a cab, but I'm going."

Their eyes met, one pair shaded with concern and compassion, the other bright and cold with determination. Jim gave in with a sigh.

"All right, let's go. Don't forget what Sara said, not a word from you without calling her. And you stick with me or Joel, you hear me?"

Twenty minutes later, they exited the elevator. Joel spotted them and walked down the hall to join them, separating himself from the agent standing guard at Jim's door.

"Hey, guys. How are you doing, Blair?" he asked, lightly dropping a broad hand on a slumped shoulder and dipping his head to look into his friend's face.

"I'm okay, Joel. And Joel…Jim told me what you all did." His eyes spoke volumes, although his words were simple. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Blair. We're all behind you, no matter what."

"Is Libby inside?"

"The Myers kid took her for you. He said she can stay as long as you need."

Jim cleared his throat. "So, Joel, where do we stand?"

"I think they're almost finished with Blair's place. They're just waiting for the warrant on yours."

"Who's in charge?"

"Brainerd, Nathan Brainerd. Rumor has it that he got booted out of a hot post in Washington, D.C. for being 'overzealous' on a few cases, and he's working to get back. A real eager beaver, with an attitude."

"Great, just what we need. A fed with a chip on his shoulder and a personal agenda."

"You got it."

Jim squared his shoulders and approached the DEA agent standing at his doorway.

"I'm Detective James Ellison. And who might you be?"

"Special Agent Flinn, DEA."

"Well, Special Agent Flinn, this is my home and since you don't have a warrant, I expect you to get out of my way and let me enter my home. And as soon as I have determined whether anyone has entered my residence illegally, I'm going to accompany Mr. Sandburg here into his residence to be sure that it has not been damaged by your men. You got a problem with that, I suggest that you contact your agent in charge and have him meet us."

The agent stood open-mouthed for a moment, then stepped aside. It was obvious that he wasn't used to being challenged. "I'll let Agent Brainerd know right away."

"You do that."

Jim unlocked the door into the loft and ushered Blair inside, nodding at Joel who resumed his spot across the hall from the door, watching the DEA agent. He locked the door loudly behind them.

A quick glance around proved that nothing was amiss.

"All right, Chief, let's head downstairs and see what's happening. Remember, no matter what, keep your cool."

"I can handle it, Jim. Cool as a cucumber."

Both men headed down the spiral staircase into Blair's apartment. They were met at the bottom by an agent who stepped in front of them, blocking their progress into the room. They recognized Brainerd from the hearing at the federal building.

"Stop right there, you two. We're not done yet, Sandburg, so you're not going anywhere inside."

"Sandburg has a right to be present if he so chooses, as long as he doesn't interfere. You weren't planning on interfering, were you, Sandburg?"


"Then he stays."

Brainerd stared at the two men, who stared back silently.

"Detective Ellison, I hadn't realized just how close the two of you are. Working together and living together. No wonder you've been trying to stonewall my investigation. Afraid that we'll get the goods on both of you?"

"As you can see, we don't live together. We have separate residences. They just happen to be connected."

"Riiiight. Well, since you're here, why don't you just give us permission to search your separate residence."

"Why don't we just wait for the search warrant, Brainerd. We're in no hurry."

Brainerd walked off, muttering to himself, and they looked around Blair's apartment. Every drawer had been opened and the contents dumped out on the floor, every cabinet opened and emptied. Each item of furniture had been moved. As far as they could see, all of Blair's belongings lay strewn about the floor of the apartment.

Jim set a hand on Blair's shoulder. He didn't have to extend his senses much to feel Blair's heart pounding, his rapid breathing, and an occasional shudder ripple through him.

"Are you sure you want to stay, Chief?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

Brainerd approached them again.

"Well, well. Guess what was found in your Rainier office, Sandburg? Oh, right, you don't have to guess, it's yours. More marijuana."

"Brainerd, that's not conclusive and you know it. He's not the only one to use or have access to that office."

"Look, Ellison…."

A knock at the door interrupted the debate. A thin, dour-faced man walked in, flashing a badge.

"Weston, Internal Affairs. Good, it looks like everyone I need is here. Mr. Sandburg, even though you are not an officer, you are an employee of CPD and therefore subject to our policies and procedures. You have been placed on administrative suspension, pending the outcome of the DEA investigation and our own internal investigation. I'll take your CPD ID now, please."

Blair looked up at Jim, then slowly removed his ID badge from his pocket and handed it to the officer.

"Thank you. Detective Ellison, although you aren't officially partners with Mr. Sandburg, that has been your de facto relationship. As his partner, you are being placed on desk duty pending the outcome of the investigations."

"Desk duty?" Jim's face quickly flushed with anger. "You think I'm gonna ride a desk while these yahoos railroad Sandburg?"

"Jim…." Blair tried to interrupt.

"Quiet, Sandburg. I am not going to just shuffle papers while your freedom and your career are at stake."

"You don't have a choice, Detective. It's either that or administrative suspension for you, as well."

Jim lost no time in pulling out his gun and badge and slapping them into Weston's hand.

"Fine. Don't let the door hit you on the way out, Weston."

Staring for a moment at the items in his hand, Weston looked up at each of them, then headed for the door.

"All right. Don't let me find out that you are interfering with the investigation, either of you. Agent Brainerd, please keep us informed."

Blair aimed a quick glance at Jim before he pulled out a chair and sat down at the counter. He spoke in a soft voice that only a Sentinel could hear.

"Gee, Jim, that went well."

Continue to Act 3

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