Disclaimer: The characters of Steve, Mark, Amanda, Jesse and Emma don't
belong to me. I borrowed them for this piece of fan fiction. The other
characters are my own creation and any resemblance to someone living or
dead is strictly a coincidence.
Chapter 1
"Dad?!" Steve Sloan let himself in the front door and tossed his keys on the hall table.
"In the kitchen," came the reply.
Steve bounded up the steps into the living room and crossed through to the kitchen. "I was about two minutes from home when you paged me. What's up?"
"Your sister called."
"Carol?"
"Yes, Carol. Unless you have other sisters I don't know about?"
"No." Steve defended himself against his father's gentle teasing. "I'm just surprised that's all. How's she doing?"
"Fine. She called to tell us that she's coming for a visit."
"Really? When?" Steve was skeptical. It wasn't the first time Carol had planned to visit only to renege at the last minute.
"She's driving down and should be here sometime Saturday."
"Driving? In her car?" The last time Carol had been to visit she'd been driving an old compact car that by all rights should've died long before.
"She's got something newer. She assured me it was reliable. I asked, too, before I could stop myself."
Steve laughed. He couldn't help it. It seemed neither he nor his dad could quite break the protective habits they had when it came to Carol. He could just imagine her bristling when she was asked if her transportation was reliable. He also hoped that she was really planning on coming. One of the things Steve found so difficult to accept about Carol was her spontaneity and her lack of consideration for other's feelings especially, it seemed, their dad's. She often spoke and committed herself to things and then had to back out. Each time she cancelled a visit Steve was always the one who had to comfort Mark. He fervently hoped this time would be different but didn't hold out much hope. However, he refused to let his skepticism dampen his dad's obvious enthusiasm.
"Well, it'll be nice to have her around for a few days. Let's just hope her visit isn't as exciting as the last time she was here," Steve said, referring to the murder of Carol's no-good husband Bruce.
*****************
Saturday dawned foggy and rainy but by mid-morning the weather had cleared and the sun was shining brightly. Mark could barely contain his excitement as he thought about seeing his daughter again. Although not nearly as close as he and Steve, Mark was trying to rebuild his relationship with his daughter.
"Dad, I'm headed for the station."
"What? I thought you had the weekend off."
"I do, but I have to catch up on some paperwork and this is the first chance I've gotten all week. I don't want to have to do it while Carol is here."
"Okay, but she should be here by this afternoon. She called while you were in the shower."
"I promise not to be gone long. If she gets here before I come home, call me at the station."
Mark watched Steve drive away then paced the deck for a few minutes. Snapping his fingers, he detoured into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Just as he thought, he'd forgotten to buy the strawberries when he'd done the shopping yesterday. Grabbing his keys, Mark scribbled a note for Carol in case he was gone longer than he anticipated and headed for the farmer's market.
Just over an hour later Mark turned into the driveway both relieved and disappointed Carol hadn't arrived yet. He put away the fruits and vegetables he'd bought and poured himself a glass of iced tea. Stepping out onto the deck, he sank wearily into one of the deck chairs. Soon the warm spring sun relaxed him and he drifted off to sleep.
***************
Mark awoke with a start and immediately looked at his watch. He'd slept far longer than he intended but a late night at the hospital combined with his excitement over Carol's impending visit had contributed to his getting only a few hours of sleep.
Entering the house, he called, "Carol? Steve?"
Only silence answered him so he looked for a note that might indicate that brother and sister had gone out somewhere together. Not finding one, Mark picked up the phone and dialed the police station.
"Steve, it's Dad," Mark said after Steve identified himself.
"I'm on my way home, Dad," Steve said, knowing he'd be in trouble for staying at the station so long. "As usual this paperwork took me longer than I thought it would."
"Carol's not there with you, is she?"
"No."
"She's not here yet either. I fell asleep on the deck and just woke up. I thought maybe she called you and drove in to meet you."
"I'm sure she's fine, Dad. She'll probably be there by the time I get there."
"Steve, when I talked to her this morning she said she was only four hours away, and that was," Mark checked his watch, "over six hours ago."
Steve could hear the agitation in his dad's voice. Damn you, Carol, for making Dad worry, he thought. Unlike Mark, Steve had long ago grown used to Carol's irresponsible habit of being late or getting distracted and losing track of time. It was just a part of his sister he'd learned to live with over the years. He strove to keep the anger out of his voice for Mark's sake.
"She probably just had car trouble. If it'll make you feel better, I'll call a friend at the highway patrol and see if they've answered any roadside assistance calls."
"Thanks Steve." Relief was evident in Mark's voice.
Steve promised to call back as soon as he knew anything and hung up. Flipping through his phone book, he found his friend's number. It took three transfers, but Steve was finally connected to his friend who was on the shooting range. After apologizing for bothering him on his day off, Steve explained what he needed.
"I'll look into it immediately," the officer promised.
Steve tried to concentrate on his paperwork but his thoughts kept drifting to Carol. This behavior was more irresponsible of her than usual and he intended to let her know it wasn't appreciated the first chance he had to get her alone. When his phone rang about a half hour later, he grabbed it before it had even finished ringing once.
"Sloan here."
"Steve, it's Zach. I checked with dispatch and they've had half a dozen assistance calls in the last six or seven hours but none of them match your sister's description. I even checked with a couple of county sheriff departments based on the route you think she's taking, but they hadn't had any calls matching her description either."
Steve let out a frustrated sigh. "Thanks, Zach. I appreciate your help."
"I wish I could've done more," Zach replied. "Let me know if there's anything else you need."
"Thanks, buddy. I will."
Hanging up, Steve dialed the beach house. Mark answered immediately. "What did you find out?"
"If Carol had car trouble she didn't get help from the highway patrol. None of their calls match her description."
"Then where is she?"
"Dad, I'm sure she's fine. She probably stopped in one of the small towns to do some shopping and lost track of time. Or maybe she pulled off to get some rest. It's a long drive from Portland and she was driving through the biggest share of the night." An officer dropping a crime scene address on his desk distracted Steve. He sighed silently. His dad was just going to be thrilled by the fact he now had to go to work. "Look Dad, I've got to get to a crime scene. By the time I get home, I'm sure Carol will be there and we'll sit down for a late dinner, okay?"
Mark agreed but Steve could tell he wasn't convinced. Steve didn't have time to think about it at the moment, however. Grabbing his keys and his jacket, he headed out to LA's latest crime scene.
***************
Steve pulled his car up next to a black and white unit and turned off the engine. He surveyed the scene as he got out of the car. Yellow police tape cordoned off the area and the usual assortment of bystanders stood behind it hoping to get a glimpse of the latest tragedy. Sighing, Steve ducked under the tape and headed toward a couple of uniform officers. He noticed the medical examiner's car and absently wondered if it was Amanda who was on the scene.
Flashing his badge, Steve asked, "What we got?"
"Not much right now," one of the officers admitted. "Caucasian female, late thirties, maybe early forties. About five foot nine, maybe 130 pounds give or take a few pounds either way. No id on her. We've got some other uniforms canvassing the surrounding area for her purse and a weapon."
Steve could see the ME kneeling next to the body. It wasn't Amanda he noted with some disappointment. "Cause of death?"
"Two gunshot wounds. One to the neck and one to the chest. Doc Moeller says she was probably dumped here after she was dead. No sign of any shell casings and there's very little blood at the scene."
"Who found her?"
"Beat cop. He was chasing a shoplifting suspect through the alley and just happened to spot her hand under the trash."
"I'll want to talk to him later." "He'll be available. He doesn't recognize our Jane Doe as a regular from the neighborhood. She's nicely dressed, casual, but not expensive and not like a lot of the neighborhood women if you get my drift."
Steve nodded. The alley bordered a street where prostitutes were known to spend many an evening peddling their trade. It wouldn't have been the first time a pimp or john had played too rough and left his handiwork behind. Usually those were beatings or strangulations though. The fact the cause of death was gunshot wounds led Steve to agree with the officer that this was unrelated to any of the neighborhood women.
"Let's go meet Jane Doe."
The ME was still kneeling next to the body when Steve and the uniformed officers approached effectively blocking Steve's view of the body.
"What do you think?"
Rising, the ME stripped off his gloves. "Definitely dumped here. I don't think the gunshot wounds killed her immediately. She probably bled to death. And I don't think she's been dead more than a few hours. It doesn't appear she was sexually assaulted either, her clothes don't appear to be disturbed, but we'll check for sure during the autopsy."
Steve nodded and Doctor Moeller moved away offering him his first view of the victim's face. For a minute he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him and he blinked hard, but when he opened them again the scene remained the same. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and he had to fight to remain conscious. As if from a distance Steve was aware of one of the officers questioning him.
"Lieutenant Sloan, are you alright? Lieutenant Sloan?"
Backing away from the victim, Steve wondered if he were going to be sick. His stomach churned and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. He covered his face with both of his hands hoping to erase the grisly scene from his mind.
"Call Detective Lopez," Steve instructed the officer faintly. "Get her down here."
The officer nodded and went to do as he'd been told puzzled by the ranking officer's reaction to seeing the victim. The young man had no idea that the lifeless body belonged to Carol Sloan Hilton, Steve's younger sister.
Chapter 1
"Dad?!" Steve Sloan let himself in the front door and tossed his keys on the hall table.
"In the kitchen," came the reply.
Steve bounded up the steps into the living room and crossed through to the kitchen. "I was about two minutes from home when you paged me. What's up?"
"Your sister called."
"Carol?"
"Yes, Carol. Unless you have other sisters I don't know about?"
"No." Steve defended himself against his father's gentle teasing. "I'm just surprised that's all. How's she doing?"
"Fine. She called to tell us that she's coming for a visit."
"Really? When?" Steve was skeptical. It wasn't the first time Carol had planned to visit only to renege at the last minute.
"She's driving down and should be here sometime Saturday."
"Driving? In her car?" The last time Carol had been to visit she'd been driving an old compact car that by all rights should've died long before.
"She's got something newer. She assured me it was reliable. I asked, too, before I could stop myself."
Steve laughed. He couldn't help it. It seemed neither he nor his dad could quite break the protective habits they had when it came to Carol. He could just imagine her bristling when she was asked if her transportation was reliable. He also hoped that she was really planning on coming. One of the things Steve found so difficult to accept about Carol was her spontaneity and her lack of consideration for other's feelings especially, it seemed, their dad's. She often spoke and committed herself to things and then had to back out. Each time she cancelled a visit Steve was always the one who had to comfort Mark. He fervently hoped this time would be different but didn't hold out much hope. However, he refused to let his skepticism dampen his dad's obvious enthusiasm.
"Well, it'll be nice to have her around for a few days. Let's just hope her visit isn't as exciting as the last time she was here," Steve said, referring to the murder of Carol's no-good husband Bruce.
*****************
Saturday dawned foggy and rainy but by mid-morning the weather had cleared and the sun was shining brightly. Mark could barely contain his excitement as he thought about seeing his daughter again. Although not nearly as close as he and Steve, Mark was trying to rebuild his relationship with his daughter.
"Dad, I'm headed for the station."
"What? I thought you had the weekend off."
"I do, but I have to catch up on some paperwork and this is the first chance I've gotten all week. I don't want to have to do it while Carol is here."
"Okay, but she should be here by this afternoon. She called while you were in the shower."
"I promise not to be gone long. If she gets here before I come home, call me at the station."
Mark watched Steve drive away then paced the deck for a few minutes. Snapping his fingers, he detoured into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Just as he thought, he'd forgotten to buy the strawberries when he'd done the shopping yesterday. Grabbing his keys, Mark scribbled a note for Carol in case he was gone longer than he anticipated and headed for the farmer's market.
Just over an hour later Mark turned into the driveway both relieved and disappointed Carol hadn't arrived yet. He put away the fruits and vegetables he'd bought and poured himself a glass of iced tea. Stepping out onto the deck, he sank wearily into one of the deck chairs. Soon the warm spring sun relaxed him and he drifted off to sleep.
***************
Mark awoke with a start and immediately looked at his watch. He'd slept far longer than he intended but a late night at the hospital combined with his excitement over Carol's impending visit had contributed to his getting only a few hours of sleep.
Entering the house, he called, "Carol? Steve?"
Only silence answered him so he looked for a note that might indicate that brother and sister had gone out somewhere together. Not finding one, Mark picked up the phone and dialed the police station.
"Steve, it's Dad," Mark said after Steve identified himself.
"I'm on my way home, Dad," Steve said, knowing he'd be in trouble for staying at the station so long. "As usual this paperwork took me longer than I thought it would."
"Carol's not there with you, is she?"
"No."
"She's not here yet either. I fell asleep on the deck and just woke up. I thought maybe she called you and drove in to meet you."
"I'm sure she's fine, Dad. She'll probably be there by the time I get there."
"Steve, when I talked to her this morning she said she was only four hours away, and that was," Mark checked his watch, "over six hours ago."
Steve could hear the agitation in his dad's voice. Damn you, Carol, for making Dad worry, he thought. Unlike Mark, Steve had long ago grown used to Carol's irresponsible habit of being late or getting distracted and losing track of time. It was just a part of his sister he'd learned to live with over the years. He strove to keep the anger out of his voice for Mark's sake.
"She probably just had car trouble. If it'll make you feel better, I'll call a friend at the highway patrol and see if they've answered any roadside assistance calls."
"Thanks Steve." Relief was evident in Mark's voice.
Steve promised to call back as soon as he knew anything and hung up. Flipping through his phone book, he found his friend's number. It took three transfers, but Steve was finally connected to his friend who was on the shooting range. After apologizing for bothering him on his day off, Steve explained what he needed.
"I'll look into it immediately," the officer promised.
Steve tried to concentrate on his paperwork but his thoughts kept drifting to Carol. This behavior was more irresponsible of her than usual and he intended to let her know it wasn't appreciated the first chance he had to get her alone. When his phone rang about a half hour later, he grabbed it before it had even finished ringing once.
"Sloan here."
"Steve, it's Zach. I checked with dispatch and they've had half a dozen assistance calls in the last six or seven hours but none of them match your sister's description. I even checked with a couple of county sheriff departments based on the route you think she's taking, but they hadn't had any calls matching her description either."
Steve let out a frustrated sigh. "Thanks, Zach. I appreciate your help."
"I wish I could've done more," Zach replied. "Let me know if there's anything else you need."
"Thanks, buddy. I will."
Hanging up, Steve dialed the beach house. Mark answered immediately. "What did you find out?"
"If Carol had car trouble she didn't get help from the highway patrol. None of their calls match her description."
"Then where is she?"
"Dad, I'm sure she's fine. She probably stopped in one of the small towns to do some shopping and lost track of time. Or maybe she pulled off to get some rest. It's a long drive from Portland and she was driving through the biggest share of the night." An officer dropping a crime scene address on his desk distracted Steve. He sighed silently. His dad was just going to be thrilled by the fact he now had to go to work. "Look Dad, I've got to get to a crime scene. By the time I get home, I'm sure Carol will be there and we'll sit down for a late dinner, okay?"
Mark agreed but Steve could tell he wasn't convinced. Steve didn't have time to think about it at the moment, however. Grabbing his keys and his jacket, he headed out to LA's latest crime scene.
***************
Steve pulled his car up next to a black and white unit and turned off the engine. He surveyed the scene as he got out of the car. Yellow police tape cordoned off the area and the usual assortment of bystanders stood behind it hoping to get a glimpse of the latest tragedy. Sighing, Steve ducked under the tape and headed toward a couple of uniform officers. He noticed the medical examiner's car and absently wondered if it was Amanda who was on the scene.
Flashing his badge, Steve asked, "What we got?"
"Not much right now," one of the officers admitted. "Caucasian female, late thirties, maybe early forties. About five foot nine, maybe 130 pounds give or take a few pounds either way. No id on her. We've got some other uniforms canvassing the surrounding area for her purse and a weapon."
Steve could see the ME kneeling next to the body. It wasn't Amanda he noted with some disappointment. "Cause of death?"
"Two gunshot wounds. One to the neck and one to the chest. Doc Moeller says she was probably dumped here after she was dead. No sign of any shell casings and there's very little blood at the scene."
"Who found her?"
"Beat cop. He was chasing a shoplifting suspect through the alley and just happened to spot her hand under the trash."
"I'll want to talk to him later." "He'll be available. He doesn't recognize our Jane Doe as a regular from the neighborhood. She's nicely dressed, casual, but not expensive and not like a lot of the neighborhood women if you get my drift."
Steve nodded. The alley bordered a street where prostitutes were known to spend many an evening peddling their trade. It wouldn't have been the first time a pimp or john had played too rough and left his handiwork behind. Usually those were beatings or strangulations though. The fact the cause of death was gunshot wounds led Steve to agree with the officer that this was unrelated to any of the neighborhood women.
"Let's go meet Jane Doe."
The ME was still kneeling next to the body when Steve and the uniformed officers approached effectively blocking Steve's view of the body.
"What do you think?"
Rising, the ME stripped off his gloves. "Definitely dumped here. I don't think the gunshot wounds killed her immediately. She probably bled to death. And I don't think she's been dead more than a few hours. It doesn't appear she was sexually assaulted either, her clothes don't appear to be disturbed, but we'll check for sure during the autopsy."
Steve nodded and Doctor Moeller moved away offering him his first view of the victim's face. For a minute he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him and he blinked hard, but when he opened them again the scene remained the same. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and he had to fight to remain conscious. As if from a distance Steve was aware of one of the officers questioning him.
"Lieutenant Sloan, are you alright? Lieutenant Sloan?"
Backing away from the victim, Steve wondered if he were going to be sick. His stomach churned and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. He covered his face with both of his hands hoping to erase the grisly scene from his mind.
"Call Detective Lopez," Steve instructed the officer faintly. "Get her down here."
The officer nodded and went to do as he'd been told puzzled by the ranking officer's reaction to seeing the victim. The young man had no idea that the lifeless body belonged to Carol Sloan Hilton, Steve's younger sister.