Title: The Roommate

Author: Roth

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters nor the concept of Diagnosis Murder

Summary: Jesse witnesses a murderer fleeing the crime scene when a young woman is killed.

Note: Guess the movie this quote comes from: "I shall call you squishy, and you shall be mine, and you shall be my squishy." I've been babysitting a three-year-old.

The Roommate

Chapter IX

"I don't like to commit myself about heaven and hell - you see, I have friends in both places." Mark Twain

It did not take long for news of Brody's death to get back to Nicolette, and needless to say, she was not happy. Not only had another person failed to get rid of Carla Berglass, but one of her best people she knew for tracking down information was dead. It seemed like the old phrase rang true: "If you wanted something done right, you do it yourself."

Not to toot her own horn, but Nicolette wasn't half bad at tracking down information or people. Her father had used her several times to find out information on a subject or place and even more times to track down people he needed to "talk" to. Sometimes, it was just easier to have someone else do it fr her so sher could focus on more important things, like her plan to free her father which was qickly falling apart.

How hard could it be to find information on Jesse Travis anyway? She already knew his address, so all she had to do now was dig a little deeper. She sat down at her computer in father's lavishly decorated study and began her research using every trick she knew.

After an hour of work, Nicolette was swimming in information; she knew everything from Jesse Travis's date of birth to what kind of car he drove to the high school he graduated from. Most importantly, however, she knew that he was a doctor at Community General Hospital. It was then that her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"The guy's going up to his apartmemt, Miss Antone, but he's not alone."

That did not make Nicolette happy. "Who's with him?"

"Some guy and then some older guy." Sometimes Nicolette hated the people who worked for her. "Do you want us to grab the Travis guy?"

Nicolette fumed. "No, I don't want you to grab him; there would be two witnesses that you would either have to shoot or leave, and neither of these two options are too appealing. Besides, its broad daylight out. Do you often kidnap people in broad daylight?"

"Sorry, Miss Antone. What do you want us to do?"

Nicolette sighed. "For right now, nothing. Keep an eye on them and tell me what they do later. Right now, I have some favors to call in." She hung up before the caller could get another word in.

Bringing this situation back from the brink of disaster was not going to be easy, and it was going to take some of the best people she knew. Nicolette also needed to take a short trip to the hospital; her planes were not going to fall apart, not when she was so close.

As she continued her research, Nicolette found out more and more about Jesse Travis. One of the most helpful things she found was that Jesse Travis was a good friend of one Dr. Sloan. She knew that name well, many people did. With a smile, Nicolette lifted the phone on the desk. She dialed in the number and waited while it rang.

"Det. Hanson, LAPD."

"Joe, it's Nic. There is quite a reward for you if you find out everything you can for me on a Dr. Sloan. I hear he's a consultant."

XVIIIIV

"Good news," said Mark, walking into the doctors' lounge. "I just talked with Dr. McGowan, Carla's doctor, and he's saying that she is still stable, maybe even improving a little. Whatever her attacker tried to give her didn't actually make it into system."

Amanda and Jesse were relieved; they'd both heard about the near fatal attack quickly through the hospital grapevine.

"What about Emmie?" asked Jesse; he was a little surprised the words came out of his mouth.

"Nothing too serious," replied Mark, taking a seat at the table. "She needed a few stitches in the back of her head, but other than that she was fine, shaken up mostly."

"I still can't believe that guy was actually daring enough to try and kill Carla right here in the hospital, in a guarded room no less," said Amanda, before taking a long drink of her coffee. Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda glanced at Jesse who was sitting on her left; he was staring blankly into his own cup of coffee. "Hey, Jess, how you holding up?"

Jesse looked up suddenly from his coffee and saw the expectant looks on both Amanda and Mark's faces. They'd both noticed their friend's lack of enthusiasm for staying at the beach house with Mark and Steve, and his unusual jumpiness. "Well, you know," said Jesse with a shrug, "not that I don't love staying at the beach house, Mark, but I kinda want to get back to my own apartment."

"That's perfectly understandable, Jesse."

"Besides," the youngest of the threee continued, "there hasn't been any other attack on me, maybe they've just forgotten about me." He gave Mark and Amanda a nervous smile which betrayed his true feelings: he was scared. Neither friend had the heart to call him out on it.

"That may be true, Jess," said Mark, "but I think it may be best if you stayed at the beach house until we get all this cleared up." Just as Mark was finishing his sentence, Steve walked into the lounge, carrying a thick manilla folder.

"Thanks to Amanda's extremely rushed autopsy we now know who our attacker was." Steve tossed the folder onto the table.

"Anything I can do to help," said Amanda, cocking her head slightly to get a look at the name on the folder. "I had a few customers in front of him, but they didn't seem to complain when I pushed their appointments back."

Mark chuckled a little as he shook his head. "What was the man's name, Steve?"

"Well, we didn't actually get anything off the guy's prints, so Amanda got the guy's dental records. When we got the guy's name, Donald Brody, and put it through the computer, well...it was an interesting surprise..."

"I thought you said he didn't have a record," said Jesse."

"No. I said we didn't have his prints in the system; when we got his name, I found he had quite the file." Mark pulled the folder towards him and started to go through it as Steve continued. "Donald Brody was a hitman for hire, and a good one at that. The police and the FBI haven't been about to pin a single thing on him, so the fact he messed up so badly this time is strange." He saw his father flipping through some of the papers. "Brody was kinda a step up from an out of work appliance store employee."

"Yes," said Amanda, "but the question is who hired him?"

"Well, if you guys look through that file some more you'll find who the police believe was Brody's main employer."

"Who?" asked Jesse, sitting up in his seat and leaning across the table to get a better look at the file.

"Samuel Antone," replied Mark, looking up freom the page he was on.

"Bingo," said Steve. "Visiting hours aren't quite through at the California State Prison." Steve smiled. "You want to go pay Mr. Antone a friendly visit?"

XVIIIIV

Despite the flourescent orange jumpsuit, Samuel Antone still managed to maintain an air of power and intimidation. Power and intimidation, however, probably came easy to a man who was being charged with such crimes as murder, money laundering, and arson; those were just a few of his known crimes. He wasn't a very tall man, maybe hitting five seven, but his hardened and narrow eyes said that he was not a man to be messed with.

The guard led Antone over to the table where Mark and Steve sat and the prisoner took a seat. "How can I help you two gentlemen?" asked Antone, giving them a smile; it looked similar to an alligator, baring its teeth before the kill.

Samuel Antone was a mob boss known for keeping his own hands clean. Every one of his crimes had everyone's fingerprints on it but his own. Steve wasn't sure what Carla Berglass found on him, but it had to be pretty damn strong to have sent Samuel Antone to prison while he awaited his trial.

"We'd like to ask you a few questons," replied Steve.

"And who might I be talking to?" asked Antone.

"I'm Lt. Steve Sloan, and this is my father Dr. Mark Sloan; he's a police consultant."

"And what might your questions be pertaining to?" Antone's voice had a business like politeness to it, but beneath the surface there was a menacing tone. The prisoner took a minute to smooth his graying black hair; somehow, despite the fact he was in a maximum security prison, Antone still manage to look and act as though he was going to a business meeting and not the table in the small interview room.

"Carla Berglass," said Steve, bluntly.

Antone's face hardened although the smile stayed, almost as if it was plastered in place. "Ah, yes. Carla Berglass. How is the little Nancy Drew?" His voice was laced with venom.

"Comatose." Steve's reply was once again blunt.

While no one could say that Samuel Antone looked unhappy about the news, they would have to say he looked surprised. Both Mark and Steve were shocked to see a look of honest surprise on his face

"What happened?" His voice didn't contain any sympathy, but it did hold geniune interest.

"She was struck by a car as she was leaving he police station after she told me she thought someone was trying to kill her because she was going to testify against you. Just a few hours ago, she was attacked once again in the hospital. Any of that ring a bell?"

Antone smiled. "As hard as this may be to believe, Lt. Sloan, no. The last thing I heard about Carla Berglass was that my very talented lawyers were working very hard to disprove her outlandish claims; I never wished her any harm." Steve only believed the "very talented lawyers" part of what Antone had just said. "Besides, it seems as though the police are slacking on their own jobs if they allowed a witness in a high profile case to be struck down right outside their precint. Tsk, tsk." He laced his fingers in front of him and widened his smile.

Mark decided to step in. "You know, we'd ask you where you were at the time of the incident, but it would kind of ridiculous."

The smile disappeared from Antone's face, and his voice took on a threatening tone as he spoke. "Lt. Sloan, Dr. Sloan, despite was the courts and the media are saying, I am not in danger of losing my trial. I have some of the best defense attournies around, and they are going to poke holes through the state's case with or without Carla Berglass's testimony. I did not have a damn thing to do with whatever happened to her. Now, I don't know if you're done asking questions, but I am certainly done answering them." Antone turned back around to the guard. "Take me back to my cell."

Samuel Antone stood up from the table, and the guard escorted him out of the room. Once they were both gone, Mark spoke.

"As bad as this may sound, I believe him."

"Unfortunately, so do I."

Both Mark and Steve left the prison feeling defeated. Besides knowing that Samuel Antone hadn't ordered the hit on Carla Berglass, they weren't any closer to helping Carla or Jesse. Both of them had an ominous feeling that their time to help the young reporter and their friend was beginning to tick away.

XVIIIIV

Nicolette loved the sound of heels on tile, and she focussed on the "click...click...click" as she walked down the ICU floor's hall. For some odd reason, the noise made her feel powerful.

Nicolette still couldn't believe that her third-Yes, THIRD- attempt to rid herself of Carla Berglass had failed so miserably and ended in the death of one of her father's best men. Casting a glance at Carla Berglass's room as she passed, Nicolette saw a hawk-eyed guard eyeing everyone who passed, suspiciously. How she wished she could just go in there and smother Carla Berglass herself and be done with it. As she headed back to the elevator, Nicolette noticed a red-headed woman talking hurriedly into a cellphone walk out of Carla's room.

Nicolette got back on the elevator and went down. It was the next floor she got off on that Nicolette instantly recognized, thanks to a picture she'd found during her research, the other thorn in her side: Jesse Travis. While Travis couldn't exactly do her any harm as a witness, a plan had hatched in her mind when her informant on the police force called her back; Dr. Mark Sloan had a bad habit of putting his nose into other people's business and "fixing" things. If Travis was involved with this case, Sloan was too, and that was bad news for Nicolette. She'd decided that Travis was going to be her insurance.

Jesse Travis wasn't by any means a bad looking guy, but at the same time he didn't look old enough to be a doctor. Travis was standing just across from the elevator, talking to an attractive black woman. Nicolette strained to hear what the two were discussing as she passed, but without standing right next to them, she couldn't make anything out.

"It doesn't matter," Nicolette thought to herself. "I've put together my people. It's only a matter of time before I've got it all worked out." She smiled to herself as she headed to the hospital exit.

TBC