Title: Good Fortune 6
Author: Grey
Fandom: The Sentinel
Pairing: B/S
Rating: NC-17
Status: New/Complete
Archive: Yes
Email: Grey853@aol.com
Series/Sequel: The Sixth in the Good Fortune series.
Date: July 2000
Website: http://grey.ravenshadow.net/

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Blair's efforts to help a friend backfire.

Notes: Thanks to XFreak for all her support.

Warnings: None.

Good Fortune 6
by Grey
Grey853@aol.com

"What's this about, Sandburg?"

Blair motioned Jim into his office towards another man at his desk. Mid-thirties with an average build, blond hair, and a black eye, he looked terrified. "Jim, this is Hugh Burke. He teaches American Literature."

"And?"

"And he's got a problem."

"I can see that. Run into a door, Mr. Burke?"

"Not exactly." Fidgeting and not meeting his eyes, Burke shook his head. "I told you this was a bad idea."

"It's not a bad idea." Impatient, Blair punched Jim lightly in the shoulder. "Come on, Jim. Let him tell you what's going on."

Reluctantly, Jim agreed and pulled up a chair across from Burke while Blair paced behind him. "Okay. Why don't you start from the beginning. What's the problem?"

"I gamble a little."

Jim sat back, arms crossed as he thought about vice and how many times he heard stories with the same beginning. "Let me guess, you don't gamble very well."

"Not as well as I wanted, no. At any rate, I owe quite a bit of money."

"How much is quite a bit?"

"As of yesterday, close to a $100, 000." Nervously, he played with the edge of a folder, his voice shaking. "I planned to pay it all back, but it just got to be too much. They keep adding more and more interest. I can't even make the fucking payments. I never dreamed it would come to this."

"And what's this?"

"Tell him, Hugh. Tell him about Mansfield."

Burke glanced up and gingerly touched his swollen eye. "Mansfield came with a couple of men last night. He told me I could either pay up or take another beating."

"Would this be Eddie Mansfield?"

"You know him?"

"He's hired muscle. Works for a guy named Jerry Anderson. You take out a loan with Anderson and don't pay, it's common knowledge Mansfield will show up sooner or later. Looks like the time's up."

Blair stepped over to the desk, one hand pushing back his hair as he spoke. "Can't you arrest this guy?"

"Has Burke filed a complaint?"

"I can't do that, detective."

Jim leaned in, his voice stern. "You file a report and I can arrest the guy for assault, but without going through official channels, there's nothing I can do."

"You don't understand. If I do that, Anderson will just send someone else after me. Add to that, I can't afford to let people at the university find out what's going on. I'd never get tenure. I'd lose my job." Burke swallowed hard as a shudder ran through his body. "I can't face that."

"Come on, Jim. Can't you do something?"

Glancing over at his pleading partner, Jim noted the strained and concerned features. Despite his reluctance to get involved, he understood the desperation of secrets. He turned his attention back to Burke. "You have a place you can go for awhile?"

"Like where?"

"Family or a girlfriend Anderson doesn't know about?"

"No, no one like that."

"Then you should find a motel or some place out of the way. Get someone to cover for you at school and drop out of sight for a few days. I'll talk to Anderson and see what I can do to get Mansfield off your back. Give your location to Blair or myself. Nobody else. You stay put until you hear from one of us, got that?"

Burke nodded and stood up, his face sweaty and pale as he extended his hand. "Thank you, detective. I didn't know what else to do until Blair suggested you."

After shaking hands, Burke walked to the door with Blair beside him patting him on his back for assurance. "It's going to be okay, Hugh. Jim won't let anything happen. Go get your things and come right back, okay? We'll make sure you're safe."

"Thanks, Blair."

When the door closed, Jim shook his head. "It might not be so simple, Chief. We're talking about the biggest loan shark in the city. I might have to call in a few favors."

"But this guy's going around hurting people, Jim. We have to do something."

"I plan to."

"What?"

"Don't worry. We'll figure something out."

As he stood to leave, Blair touched his arm. "Thanks, Jim."

Jim rested his hand over Blair's a bit longer than necessary. The urge to grab him and hold him in his arms pressured his will, but he pulled away and took one step away. "I'll call you in a little while about the best place to send him."

"Okay. You think we should tell Simon about this?"

"I have to. Going after Anderson's not going to be easy. I need all the help I can get. Working together we might actually be able to get this guy and save your friend at the same time."

"And if we can't?"

"I don't even want to think about it."

"You must be crazy."

"What's so crazy about trying to get this thug off the streets?" Jim stood with his arms crossed, his stubborn pose in full gear.

"For one thing, it's not our jurisdiction. Vice has been working this guy for years. For another, we don't even have a formal complaint to go on for the assault."

Nodding in reluctant agreement, Jim paced as he made his argument. "I know all that, sir, but just listen for a minute."

"I'm listening."

"Vice is dragging its ass or Anderson would already be indicted. There's no way you can tell me they can't get something on the guy when he's got his finger in every pie in every nightclub around town. He's either paying someone off or sleeping with the right people."

"Lawyers probably."

"Probably. We need to find a way to shake him up, make him understand the ride is over."

"And how do you propose to do that? From what you tell me this Burke won't even file a complaint. We've got no legal legs to stand on."

Jim sat down on the edge of the table, his arms still crossed. "He doesn't have to know that. I could make him believe we might have a witness not only willing to testify to the assault but to the loan sharking as well."

"Jim, this could get dangerous. I don't want Blair anywhere near this whole mess."

"He's not going to be. Once we stash Burke, Sandburg's out of the picture." Pausing, Jim met Simon's eyes, his voice a little less formal. "Besides, I figure between the two of us, we can make sure he's nowhere near Burke if something should happen."

Simon continued frowning but finally nodded. "Okay, what do you need from me on this?"

"Call in your marker with Thompson in Vice. See what you can find out about why Anderson's been pretty much free for any and all business. Also see what files they have to share."

"You know he's going to want to know what's happening."

"Tell him the same thing we're telling Anderson. We've got a potential witness who can take the guy out."

"And meanwhile?"

"Meanwhile, I'm putting Burke out of sight. Then I'm going to see Mansfield."

Puzzled, Simon asked, "Mansfield? Why not Anderson directly?"

"Because if I push Mansfield, it'll get to Anderson. I figure if I stir things up enough, Anderson will want to know how to fix things."

"Or come after your ass."

"And if he does that, then we have him for assaulting a cop."

"You'll have Mansfield, not necessarily Anderson. He's good about covering his connections."

"Then we can use Mansfield as a bargaining chip. Lay off Burke, the charges might disappear."

Simon shook his head as he covered his mouth, his face grim. After a few moments, he finally leaned forward. "All right, but I want you to copy Brown on this. Make sure he's up to speed on everything that you're doing. I don't want you out there going after someone as big as this without backup."

"And what about Blair? He's going to want to know what's going on with his friend."

"Then we only tell him that we're working on it and keep him distracted."

Jim frowned as he stood up and walked to the door, his tone sharp and cutting. "I'll leave the diversion part to you, sir. That's what you're good at."

He closed the door harder than he wanted as Simon remained silent.

"What a dump."

Blair scanned the small, dingy motel room and had to agree, but he couldn't tell Burke that. "It's only for a few days, Hugh."

The other man sagged down on the end of one of the twin beds and shook his head. Fatigue shadowed his features, the bruises distorting and shading the skin. "I can't believe I'm this fucked up."

Sitting next to his friend, Blair put his arm around his shoulders and hugged lightly. "It's okay, man. Jim will make sure you're safe."

"He's just a cop. How's he going to win against someone like Anderson?"

"Don't underestimate him. He's good at what he does."

"I know, or so you keep telling me." Burke stood up and groaned as he put a hand to the small of his back.

"You okay?"

"I'm just sore."

"Did you see a doctor?"

"I don't need a doctor, Blair. I need a new life."

Blair remained silent for a few extra moments before he asked, "Why did you ever get started with this shit in the first place, Hugh? I never really took you for much of a gambler."

"I'm not, not really."

"Then what happened?"

Uneasy, Burke slumped down in the chair by the dresser. "I've been trying to get published. You know that piece on Whitman I did?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it got rejected. Again. It's like I can't get a break."

"I don't get it. What's not getting published got to do with gambling?"

Head down, Burke focused on his hands, his voice still stressed, but a little more relaxed than before. "I get depressed sometimes, so I went to the track and made a few bets. I won at first. I'd never felt a thrill quite like it. I didn't give a fuck about any stupid ass paper or getting tenure or any of that shit we have to go through."

"So you just kept betting."

"Right. At first it was just a few bets here and there, but then it got to be pretty much a habit. But the losses started piling up. I even took out another mortgage on the house. I mean, I kept thinking, one good run and I'd be well again."

"But it didn't happen and you ended up going to Anderson."

"And you know the rest."

"Yeah, pretty much." Blair stood up and walked to the door. "I'll call back when we've got something to tell you."

A hand grabbed his wrist. "Wait, Blair. You can't just leave me here. Stay until this thing is over."

"I can't, man. I've got classes and other things I have to take care of."

Burke let him go and frowned, his words angry. "Like Jim, right?"

"What?"

"You and Jim, you're together, right?"

Blair bit back I wish and instead shook his head in denial. "Jim's my best friend. We work together."

"But you live together, too."

"So?"

"So, he's all you ever talk about and I saw how you two were together. You can't tell me there's not something there between you."

Defensive, Blair rushed his words. "What's between us in none of your business. All you need to know is that he's going to do what he can to get your ass out of this shit."

Suddenly contrite, Burke sighed and wrapped himself in his own arms. "I'm sorry, Blair. I really am. I just get a little jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Well, I thought you had a love life and I didn't."

"That's pretty fucked up, Hugh."

"Yeah, I know."

"Besides, I have a love life. It's just not with Jim."

"But you'd like it to be." His friend met his eyes as he made his statement.

Tired, Blair sighed and patted Burke's shoulder. "Just stay away from the windows and don't call anybody. It's going to be fine."

"Why don't I believe that?"

"Because you read too much Beckett. Now try to rest. I'll check back with you later tonight."

Even as he said it, Blair shivered, the sense of dread even worse than before. Leaving the room, he shut the door and headed for the Volvo, his mind focused on getting back to Jim and Simon. Before he had a chance to unlock the car, arms grabbed him from behind, flashing pain jerking him back into sinking blackness.

Fuck.

Jim stood in the middle of the crime scene, the battered corpse sprawled back in a parody of sleeping. Hugh Burke didn't have to worry about losing his teaching job anymore. All bets were off and his life no longer cashed a ticket.

Simon stepped in behind him. "This the guy you were protecting?"

"Yeah, some protection. How the fuck did Anderson find him so fast?"

"Maybe Mansfield followed him from the university."

"Maybe." He turned and nudged Simon's elbow to guide him out the door. Once in the open, he kept his voice lowered. "This doesn't make any sense. Why kill him?"

"He probably figured out he was our witness."

Frowning, Jim met his captain's gaze. "I haven't even talked to Anderson yet and I'm still looking for Mansfield. How could he know we had a potential witness?"

Pursing his lips, Simon stepped away and shook his head. "I don't like what I'm hearing here, Jim. The only other people who knew about this were Blair, Thompson, and Brown."

"You think Thompson tipped him off?"

"For christsakes, Steve Thompson is a captain. I've known him personally for close to fifteen years. You really think he'd be involved with someone like Anderson?"

"Well, it would explain why Anderson's business is still up and running. We've always suspected there was an inside man."

"But Steve Thompson? Shit. I don't want to believe that."

Jim sighed, rubbing his mouth in frustration as he pondered the possibilities. Stepping in closer, Jim asked, "I don't know him like you do, Simon. Do you think he's capable of being this dirty?"

Reluctantly, Simon nodded. "Anything's possible. Let's face it, at this point, it's the only thing that makes sense. But why risk exposure?"

"Maybe he thought Burke knew something more than he told me."

"Yeah, maybe." Simon lowered his voice to a whisper. "I think he thought this whole thing was a major operation."

"Why would he think that?"

"Because I told him we were getting ready to move on it soon."

"So he had Anderson move sooner. Shit. It makes sense." Jim heard the clicking of cameras and turned toward the doorway. Automatically scanning around him, he zoomed in on a stain on the parking lot pavement. A cold fear swamped his skin. "Son of a bitch. Where's Blair?"

"He told me he was coming to the station around three, but it's after five now and he hasn't called. He's probably still at school. Why? What's wrong?"

Panic pushed his words as he headed for the oily patch on the concrete. Kneeling down, he touched his fingers to the liquid and sniffed it. "It's the same synthetic oil Blair uses."

"What are you saying? Blair was here?"

Still close to the ground, Jim could barely hear his friend's words. All he could see was the pattern of blood near the same area. A hand touched his shoulder. "Jim, what is it?" He finally stood up, his breathing staggered. "You're scaring me here. What's going on?"

"We've got to find Blair. I think he's been injured."

"What the hell are you talking about? You can't know that."

Jim stepped closer, his face right up to Simon's, the throat tight around his swelling fear. "I can't explain it. I just know we have to find him."

"Shit." Simon held his gaze a second longer and nodded as he pulled out his phone and dialed frantically. While his captain started the search, Jim closed his eyes to regain his composure. Still shaking, he sagged back against the brick wall of the motel, his palms pressing against the rough surface.

Simon's voice snapped him back to full awareness. "Jim, they've found the Volvo."

"And Blair?"

"He's missing."

The end