"And no doubt every one of those possibilities is illegal. I hope I'm wrong, but right now smuggling seems to be the most obvious place to begin."

  Blair glanced at the clock at the end of the hallway. "Listen, Jim, I have two classes to teach this afternoon that I can't get out of."

  "That's fine. That'll give me a chance to do some digging." Jim pulled his keys out of his pocket. "I'll head back to the station, see if Forensics has figured out what that white powder was I found in the tire treads. Then I'll make a few phone calls to see if I can find out anything about suspected smuggling operations in and out of Borneo."

  "You should check for activity against Susan's passport during that time, too," Blair reminded him.

  "Will do," Jim agreed. "I'll fill you in on everything tonight at the loft."

  /

  /

  /

  Blair crossed the university parking lot, juggling the books in his arms and the backpack that hung heavily from his right shoulder. It had been a long afternoon; his mind had been preoccupied with what he had learned about Susan, making teaching his two classes a struggle. More than once, he had thought about calling Jim. But his partner had told him he'd fill him in at home and he didn't want to disturb him if he was making progress, so he'd decided to just wait.

  He had hoped that Dr. Nahim would have called him back this afternoon, but so far he'd heard nothing from the professor in Borneo. If he didn't get a call by tomorrow, he would phone the man again. Blair had a strong feeling that whatever Nahim had sent to Professor Stoddard could be the key to figuring out what Susan was hiding.

  As he neared the Volvo, he fished his keys out of his jeans pocket. But as the car came into sight, he stopped. "What?" He could see the front tire, flat. "Oh man!" He started forward again and realized that the rear tire was also flat. His brow creased. Slowly, he walked around the car. All four tires were flat. "What the hell?" His gaze shifted across the empty parking lot, searching... because his tires weren't just flat, they had been slashed.

  Dumping his books on the hood of his car, he pulled his backpack to the front and took out his cell phone. He punched in Jim's number and waited. The phone was answered on the first ring. "Ellison."

  "Hey, Jim, it's me."

  "Hey. What's up? I thought you'd be on your way home by now."

  "Well, I was, but someone slashed the tires on my car. All four of them." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose; the discouragement and anger in his voice evident even to his own ears.

  "You're sure?" Jim's voice came across the line.

  "All four are just cut to hell, man."

  "Where are you, Blair? Are you at your car?"

  "Yeah," Blair answered wearily. "I'm going to go back inside. Can you come over and pick me up?"

  "I'll leave right now. Go back inside, Chief, but don't go back to your office. It's too isolated. I want you to go to a lecture hall and stay there, with other people."

  "Jim," Blair appealed, sighing in frustration, "Don't you think you're overreacting just a little bit?"

  "No, I don't," Jim answered without apology. "Slashing someone's tires is a violent crime. An angry crime. And I don't want whoever did this coming after you. Things can get out of control fast and--"

  "Okay, okay," Blair said, interrupting Jim's monologue. "I get the message. Lecture hall it is. I'll be in Pease, Room 203."

  /

  /

  /

  Jim reached the second floor of Pease Hall and rapidly approached Room 203. Stepping up to the door, he glanced in through the small rectangular window. He could see Blair sitting at the back of the room, his gaze locked forward. He appeared to be listening to the professor, but Jim could tell from the look on his face that he was hearing nothing of the lecture. Sandburg's lips were set in a thin line of worry and small lines creased his forehead. Jim had seen that look too often.

  As he watched him, Blair shifted nervously in his seat and reached up to push strands of loose hair back behind his ears. Jim smiled in spite of the seriousness of the circumstances. The gesture was so familiar to him, so comfortable--something he always associated with his partner, like so many other things he associated only with Blair.

  A chill stole over the detective as he thought about the person who had slashed his guide's tires, the thoughts stealing the smile from his face. He considered the message that was being sent to Blair. No, not a message, a warning. It was obvious that Blair was getting too close to the truth about what had happened to Stoddard and someone wanted him to back off. Jim exhaled a long, slow sigh--he knew that backing off would be the last thing his headstrong partner would do.

  Quietly, Jim pushed the door open and stepped into the large room. Crossing to Blair, he dropped a hand to his partner's shoulder. Blair spun toward him, his eyes wide. Jim grimaced; he hadn't wanted to startle his friend. "Sorry, Chief," he whispered apologetically.

  Blair nodded curtly and gathered up his books. Jim grabbed his backpack off the floor and, opening the door, escorted his partner into the corridor and out to the truck.

  /

  /

  /

  Blair hung up the phone and stood staring at the instrument, hands on his hips.

  "Everything okay with the car?" Jim asked from behind him, where he was pouring a cup of coffee.

  Blair turned toward his partner and accepted the mug Jim was holding out to him. "Yeah. The tow truck just now dropped it off, and my mechanic told me the tires I need are in stock. I can pick up the car any time after 8:30 tomorrow morning."

  "Sounds good," Jim said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I can take you by the garage on my way to the station."

  "Thanks," Blair said softly, then moved over to the couch facing the balcony and lowered himself to the cushions with a weary sigh.

  Jim watched with concern as Blair leaned heavily into the couch and rested his head against the cushions. The two men had been home for nearly an hour and Blair had hardly said ten words. Jim knew he hadn't been sleeping well, and he could only begin to imagine the pressure he was feeling over the possibility of having to bring some sort of accusations against the chancellor's daughter. And now this incident with his car... Jim frowned as his hearing picked up on a weary sigh--the kid was nearing the end of his rope, both emotionally and physically.

  Jim moved into the living area and crossed over to his partner. "Hey," he said softly, reaching out to tap lightly at Blair's knee, "You okay?"

  Blair looked up at him and nodded slightly. "Yeah, I'm all right. I just wish Dr. Stoddard would wake up, you know? He could probably solve this whole thing for us in a few minutes."

  "I wish he'd wake up, too, Chief." Jim sat on the couch opposite his guide. "But until he does, we'll just keep digging. We'll get to the bottom of this one way or another."

  "But how, Jim?" Blair pressed, sitting up straighter. "We don't have anything but speculation at this point."

  "We have a little more than that. I got the report back from Forensics this afternoon before I got your call. That white stuff we found on the tire tracks? It's stone dust."

  "Stone dust? Like from a construction site?"

  Jim nodded. "Or a gravel pit or masonry site."

  Blair huffed in disgust. "Or a thousand other places. Doesn't give us much to go on, does it?" He leaned forward and looked over at Jim intently. "I'm more convinced than ever that Susan is behind all this, Jim. I mean, she talks with Stoddard and he ends up in the hospital. We go to talk with her and my tires end up slashed. That's just too coincidental." He leaned back against the cushions again, rolling his warm mug of coffee between his hands. "I'd like to talk with Amanda again, press her to tell us what she knows."

  Jim shrugged. "You can talk with her again if you want, Chief, but I doubt she'll tell you anything. You said it yourself--she isn't going to do anything to risk her career."

  Blair dropped his gaze to his hands and the coffee mug held between them. "I know. I'm just so frustrated. I hate having to sit and wait for Susan to make her next move."

  Part Four

  Blair sat behind his desk. He was tired and frustrated. He'd been trying all morning to concentrate on the exams he'd been attempting to grade for two days, but he wasn't having much success. His mind kept turning to Dr. Stoddard and the clues he and Jim had found so far regarding his accident. Frustration coursed through him as he rethought each clue through to it's logical conclusion--each one led to a dead end.

  Pulling off his glasses, he rubbed at his eyes. Maybe if he could just get one good night's sleep, he would be able to see the answer. But since Dr. Stoddard had ended up in the hospital, Blair hadn't been able to get through even one night without lying awake for hours on end.

  He looked up as a quick rap on his office door drew his attention. "It's open," he called.

  A petite redhead stepped through the door. "Hello, Blair."

  Great! Blair thought to himself. He tried not to let it show, but he knew his face registered at least some measure of disgust at the appearance of Susan Edwards.

  "Susan," he intoned without enthusiasm. "What can I do for you?" He deliberately kept his voice business-like.

  Susan sauntered casually up to his desk and looked down at him. "I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. I heard about your car being vandalized yesterday."

  Blair narrowed his eyes. "You did, did you?" He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the chancellor's daughter with a cool, level gaze. "I didn't really think it would be that big a news flash on campus. After all, cars are vandalized on the lots on a pretty regular basis."

  "That's true," Susan said, leaning forward and pinning him with a knowing glare. "But I was actually more worried about you than your car." She straightened. "It would have been awful if you had caught those vandals in the act of slashing your tires. You could have been hurt. I just think it would it be a terrible shame to have two of Rainier's most popular professors injured... or worse... in such a short time span, don't you?"

  Blair pushed to his feet as the implication behind Susan's words hit him. Anger pumped through his body and it was all he could do to keep his voice level as he spoke: "Are you threatening me, Susan?"

  Susan backed away. Bringing her hand to her chest, she blinked in mock surprise. "Threatening you? I didn't hear any threats being made here. Just one colleague showing concern for another colleague." Smiling, she turned and walked to the door. "Take care of yourself, Blair," she said over her shoulder, then exited the office.

  Blair stood, staring after her. He was debating whether or not to follow her, insist that she tell him what she knew about Stoddard's attack, when the phone on his desk rang, putting an end to his indecision. He snatched up the receiver impatiently.

  "Sandburg," he said gruffly into the phone.

  "Dr. Blair Sandburg?" a male voice with a distinctive accent came across the line.

  "Um, yes, this is he," Blair said, lifting his hand to rub absently at his forehead.

  "This is Dr. Alfred Nahim in Sabah, Borneo. I'm returning your call."

  "Dr. Nahim, thank you for calling me back." Blair dropped into his chair and slipped his glasses back on. Pulling a pad of paper and a pen to him, he apologized to Dr. Nahim for his initial gruffness, then told the professor the reason for his call. "So you can see why we're especially interested in knowing the contents of the package you sent to Dr. Stoddard," he concluded.

  "Yes, of course," came Dr. Nahim's polite reply. "It was nothing all that secretive, I assure you. Dr. Stoddard is a long-time colleague of mine and I worked with him and his team on a rather regular basis while they were here in our country. Recently I came across a thesis written by a Rainier student who was with him his first year in Borneo. Susan Edwards?"

  "Yes," Blair said excitedly, "I know Susan wrote a thesis on Borneo's current culture."

  "Have you read it?" Dr. Nahim asked dryly. A tinge of disgust was evident in his voice.

  "No, I'm afraid I never got around to it."

  There was a sound of derision on the other end of the line, then Dr. Nahim continued, "Then perhaps you should. Ms. Edward's thesis was not so much a thesis on Borneo's current culture as it was a story about Borneo's current culture. A fictional story, I might add."

  "What? Are you saying her findings were disproved?"

  "I'm saying that her findings were made up, Dr. Sandburg. Falsified. As I told Dr. Stoddard in the note I attached in his package, Ms. Edwards could have written her thesis on our culture from half way around the world. You'd never know by reading her work that she'd ever set foot in our country."

  Blair put down the pen with which he'd been taking notes and rubbed at his forehead again. Dr. Nahim's accusation against Susan was a serious one. "Dr. Nahim," Blair said, "Can you give me some details of Susan's work?"

  "You are aware, perhaps, that Borneo has a rich mining history, Dr. Sandburg? Most particularly in gold?"

  Blair nodded his head absently. "Yes, I'm aware of that."

  "Ms. Edward's thesis was a glowing report on the current cultural and socio-economic benefits of the mining industry on the indigenous people of our country. Unfortunately, few of her facts and none of her conclusions are true."

  Blair exhaled a long sigh. "Dr. Nahim, I'm sorry to ask this, but that's a rather serious accusation. I'm assuming you sent Dr. Stoddard some sort of proof of your allegations?"

  "I most certainly did," Dr. Nahim replied. "The Universiti Malaysia Sabah works very closely with the government of Borneo to produce annual Impact Statements regarding the influences of gold mining on our indigenous people. We have found, over the past several years, that the influence on our people has been negative. In fact, it worsens every year. The mining laborers are taken largely from Borneo's indigenous population and paid low wages while upper management positions are filled from outside the country. This keeps our native people in a state of poverty even though they live in a country that is uncommonly rich in natural resources. And then, of course, there is the impact on the environment... The mining operations here continue to strip and rape the land, in spite of environmental groups formulating protests and legal injunctions."

  "I think I'm beginning to see where you're going with this," Blair said. "I'm assuming the most current Impact Statements were sent to Dr. Stoddard along with Susan's thesis."

  "Yes. And I personally wrote up a lengthy rebuttal of the points made in her thesis, using the Impact Statements to corroborate my findings."

  "I see," Blair said slowly, his mind spinning with the implications being assessed against Susan Edwards. After a short pause, he spoke again: "I guess I'm still confused about one thing. Why would Susan choose to write a thesis that could be so easily disproved?"

  "Greed, Dr. Sandburg."

  "I'm sorry. I'm still not following you."

  Dr. Nahim exhaled a small laugh. "Unfortunately, I have no way of proving this. It's merely speculation. However, Ms. Edward's thesis was heavily biased in favor of the Malaysian Mining Cooperative, which is the governing group of the gold mining companies that operate in Borneo. The Cooperative is very large, very rich and very powerful. It is also very protective of its image, especially outside our country. The Cooperative has been known to offer--rewards--for favorable reports of various types in the past."

  Amanda's report of the conversation she heard came back to Blair--the conversation about the next payment... "Dr. Nahim, are you saying you think Susan accepted money to bias her thesis in the Cooperative's favor?"

  "It's the only logical explanation."

  "But it's a university thesis--a thesis based on a fairly common theme. Few people outside the academic world will probably ever read it! There's no way it could have marred the Cooperative's reputation."

  Again, there was a low chuckle on the other end of the line. "Ahhhh, but the Cooperative wouldn't know that, now would they? And what if a thesis that portrayed them in an unfavorable light were to be sent to, say Greenpeace, for example?"

  Blair sat, dumbfounded. Susan was a cunning woman. A driven woman with no integrity. Could she have played the Cooperative just as surely as they played her? Threatened them with negative exposure?

  "Dr. Nahim, you've been a great help. I have one last favor to ask of you..."

  "You'd like a copy of the Impact Statements I sent to Dr. Stoddard?"

  It was Blair's turn to chuckle. "Yes. Please. Along with your rebuttal statements. As quickly as you can."

  "Do you have a fax machine?"

  "Yes." Blair gave the department fax number and thanked the professor again for his time and the information. Hanging up, he felt like his head was swimming with facts and with possibilities. If Susan had really done this thing...

  Scooping his keys off his desk, Blair decided to stop by Karen's office and ask her to keep the material being faxed from Borneo for him until he returned--it would take some time for the material to come through. Stepping out into the hall, he closed his door behind him and locked it. The stop at Karen's office took only a second, and he promised her he'd be back within an hour.

  His mind still turning with what he had learned, he exited Hargrove Hall and headed for the Archives Wing of Rainier's campus library. He looked down at the note in his hand, the title of Susan's dissertation provided by Dr. Nahim: "Impacts of Gold Mining Activities on the Indigenous Peoples of Borneo." He was looking forward to reading Susan's thesis.

  /

  /

  /

  Jim sat at his desk, skimming through the names of local construction companies and gravel pits that used the type of stone dust he'd found in the tire treads at the scene of Stoddard's accident. "Damn," he muttered. When he'd asked Brown to run the companies down for him, he had thought he'd come back with maybe a dozen names. He'd come back with almost fifty. And with no way to narrow the list, the stone dust--at one time a promising lead--had just become a huge dead end.

  The phone on his desk rang. Jim snatched it up, happy for the distraction. "Ellison."