(Chapter 3. Steve's office. February 14, 2033. Just after lunch.)
Captain Alberto Cioffi arrived promptly at one o'clock.
"How's it going, Al," Steve asked as he shook the man's hand.
"It'll be going a lot better if you let me have these two lieutenants, Chief."
"Tell me about it," Steve commiserated as Al and Cheryl shook. "I've done so many interviews the past year and a half, I feel like I should be getting a separate paycheck from personnel."
They shared a laugh, and at Steve's request Al gave him and Cheryl the complete rundown on the first of his two candidates. Steve was pleased to see that the man didn't need to refer to the folder of documentation he had on her. It was important for a cop to have a good memory for facts. It saved time that might otherwise be lost looking things up repeatedly.
"Emily Morgan Baer, Chief. B-A-E-R."
Something was already niggling at the back of Steve's brain.
"She grew up in Pennsylvania, in some little town I can't pronounce, attended Penn State, had her Master's in Administration of Justice and completed her training at the Allegheny County Police Academy by the time she was twenty one. She's a bona fide genius."
The niggle started tickling.
"She also took some law courses before she decided in her legal ethics course that, as she said, 'The only thing there was to learn about legal ethics is that there aren't any'."
Steve smiled at that. He recalled his own aborted attempt to earn a law degree, and remembered the more confounding aspects of the convoluted ethical code that lawyers were expected to follow.
"She went to work for the Clearfield County Pennsylvania Sheriff's office in 2025 and by 2027 she was a sergeant. She's good at her job, chief, trained in hostage negotiation, investigative techniques, SWAT--she's a sniper, and she even took some basic forensic medicine courses so she would understand better what the ME does."
Grinning at Cheryl, Steve said, "Amanda would love that."
That little niggling tickle was becoming a rather forceful tug. Surely, this time Steve's instincts were wrong. Of all the people in the entire world who might choose to be cops, how could anyone connected with *her* possibly end up in his office?
Cheryl nodded, and Steve gestured for Cioffi to continue.
"You remember in '29 when they had that bio-terrorism espionage mess back east?"
"Right before our own little disaster? Yeah, I remember some of it," Steve said. He remembered the story breaking right around Thanksgiving, but most of the aftermath was lost to him in the swirling chaos of the LAPD-Mob investigations, inquiries, and trials of 2030.
"She ran the investigation. Even when the NSA stepped in, she was still in charge because by then she had done all the legwork for them. It was easier for them to let her run things than it was to have her bring them up to speed."
"Wow." That's all Cheryl could think of to say.
"Yes, ma'am. She's one hell of a woman."
"Really?" Steve asked, and Cioffi blushed.
"That's not what I meant, sir, but yeah, she's a knockout, too."
"Well, Commander," Steve said, looking at Cheryl. "Are we ready to see Captain Cioffi's knockout?"
"I'm ready if you are, sir."
Steve paged his assistant.
"Leigh Ann, could you please send Ms. Baer in now."
There was a pause, then Leigh Ann replied in a puzzled voice, "Chief, there's no Ms. Baer signed in on the book. Wait a second, sir."
"I know I saw her in the waiting room," Cioffi insisted.
The three officers looked at one another in bemusement until Leigh Ann came back on the speaker and said, "Sorry about the confusion, sir. She's on her way."
When a statuesque, freckle-faced, redhead with sparkling green-gold eyes and a wide, mobile mouth entered the office, that ticklish, niggling tug in the back of Steve's brain turned into a massive fist and smashed all coherent thought out the top of his skull. She wore a dark green business suit with a knee-length skirt, and her hair was bound in a neat pile of curls on top of her head. Except for her height--she must have been six feet tall, and with the heels and the hair she looked closer to six four or six five--she looked just like Olivia. Steve muttered some form of greeting and gaped like a fish out of water as she shook first his hand then Cheryl's and finally Cioffi's.
"I'm sorry I didn't mention it before, Captain, but I didn't know until I got the mail this morning. My final decree of divorce just came through. My application was in my married name, but I'm going back to my maiden name as of now. It will take a few weeks for all of the official documentation to come through, but I'm no longer Emily Baer."
"And what is you maiden name, then," Cioffi asked as he opened her file and took out a pen to make the correction.
"Stephens," Steve answered before she could open her mouth.
"You know each other?"
"No, sir," Emily told the Captain. At Cioffi's confused look, she explained, "The chief knows my mother."
Looking at Steve, she said, "I was wondering if you'd make the connection, sir. My parents say hello."
Steve nodded, and remembering his manners, he asked, "How are they?"
"Both of them are doing well, sir, thank you for asking. Mom's been chief of surgery at the county hospital for years now, but she's getting ready to retire. She sick of the administrative aspects of the job. Dad retired from the sheriff's department twenty years ago. Now he runs the custom cabinet and furniture workshop at Strawcutter and Redmond lumber yard. May I tell them you're doing well?"
"As well as can be expected in light of events of the past couple years. Shall we begin?" He gestured her into a seat, amazed at how like her mother she was. He was so stunned at seeing her he could barely follow a single thought all the way to it's end, but like Olivia all those years ago, Emily was able to manipulate the conversation subtly to give him the time he needed to collect himself before he looked like a fool. He guessed she shared the gift with her extraordinary mother and didn't even know how remarkable it was. Nevertheless, he was grateful.
"So, tell us about yourself," Cheryl began.
Emily briefly summed up what Cioffi had told them, and added more information about her accomplishments, interests, and unique talents. One thing that particularly impressed them all was that she was also a self- defense and firing-range instructor.
"Well," Steve said, "It seems you were a big fish in a small pond. Why come to LA?"
Emily smiled. "As you said, sir, the pond was getting rather small. After BioGen, everybody in Western PA knew me. Going undercover was out of the question, which was good because it kept me out of vice…"
Everyone chuckled at the remark.
"…but bad because it limited what I could do for the sheriff's department in other cases. Also, well, my ex works for the sheriff and…I'm sure you remember what a small community it is."
Cheryl looked concerned. "You were afraid you would not be able to maintain a professional relationship?"
"Not exactly, ma'am. We each trusted the other to do the job. Always. That was unquestionable, but it was not a pleasant split. Our friends were starting to take sides, whether we wanted them to or not, and since most of our friends were cops, it put quite a strain on the sheriff's department. Ian and I decided together that it would be best for everyone we worked with if one of us would go elsewhere. His mother lives in Pittsburgh, and he's all she has. My folks have lots of friends and family in the area. So, it only made sense for me to be the one to go."
"Ok," Steve said. "That's why you left home. Why come to LA?"
She shrugged, just like her mother and seemed to weigh her response for a few moments.
"While working the BioGen case, I became one of their victims. About twenty percent of us survived. About two percent actually recovered. I was one of the 'lucky' ones."
"But…" Steve prompted, knowing as soon as he saw the shrug that there was a 'but'.
"But I have found 'recovered' means able to carry on, not back to normal."
"So," Cioffi asked angrily. "You mean to say you have lingering health problems you didn't disclose on your application."
Steve was impressed with the way Emily handled herself when she responded.
"No, sir, absolutely not, sir. It is not a health problem, and it *is* disclosed in my application. I suffer from extreme hypersensitivity to cold. If it drops much below thirty-five degrees, I begin to develop hypothermia, and it is very difficult to reverse. Staying in Western PA was not an option. I'd have died."
"Why not Florida," Steve asked. "You'd be closer to home."
Emily shrugged again, and again appeared to weigh her answer.
"My mom already has a house here. It made the move a lot cheaper and easier."
"And…" Steve nudged, knowing the cost of moving was not an issue and that the shrug meant there was more.
Emily sighed, wondering how the hell the Deputy Chief could read her so well after having just met her minutes ago. She saw his eyes widen minutely in surprise when she looked directly at him and said, "Please understand that this is completely sincere, sir. The only reason I hesitated to tell you was because I was afraid you would think it simple, spineless flattery. I don't flatter anyone, sir. I *always* say exactly what I mean."
Steve smiled. She was just like her mother. They probably drove each other nuts.
"Continue, Ms. Stephens."
"I was four years old sitting in my daddy's lap watching the riots of 2007 when I saw you, sir," she turned to Cheryl, "and you, ma'am, and three other officers take off your gear and face down that mob with just a handful of cops behind you. Daddy whispered into my ear, 'That's Mama and Daddy's friend, Steve. He's a hero, but no matter what you hear, remember that he was a hero long before this ever happened.'"
There was a silence in the room. No one knew what to say. Steve was visibly embarrassed. Emily realized that she hadn't finished her answer, and continued.
"I spent most of 2030 watching the LAPD-Mob trials from a hospital bed while recovering from the BioGen virus. I was impressed with the way the members of the Valley Bureau handled themselves. From the greenest patrolman all the way up through the chain of command, everyone projected integrity, loyalty, pride, and courage."
She paused for thought. "When I heard about how they planned to use Valley Bureau personnel to rebuild the LAPD, I knew I wanted to be a part of it. I never expected to meet you, sir, but you, and those like you," she included Cheryl and Cioffi in her glance, "are the real reason I came to LA."
"You know you'll have to complete some course work on local and state laws and regulations," Steve said.
"I'm almost finished, sir. I moved out here in September--the house was my birthday present--and I started the classes right away. I'm a quick study. I expect to be finished by May."
Steve looked to Cheryl, and she gave the slightest nod. Cioffi eyes begged. Steve knew he'd be a fool to say no. Hell, he didn't want to say no. He liked the kid, and she sounded like a damned fine cop. Standing up, he came round the desk, extended his hand, and shook Emily's.
"Welcome to the LAPD, Lieutenant Stephens. You can report for duty tomorrow. Arrange the time with your CO here."
Emily shot up out of her seat, grinning. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
A few more remarks were made, she was given instructions to speak to Leigh Ann on the way out to take care of her pension, insurance, payroll, and other paperwork, and as the door shut behind her, Steve said to Cioffi, "Ok, Al, who's the poor sod who has to follow that act?"
At about five thirty, Steve decided to pack it in for the day. Cioffi got his other lieutenant, even though Bremer was less than impressive. He had twice as much time in as Emily, but had accomplished less that half what she had. Overall, though, he was a good, solid, steady fellow, and one could always hope Lieutenant Stephens would pull him along in her wake and lead him to achieve more.
After the second interview, he'd had a meeting with the other chiefs, some forensic investigators, and the chief ME. Another good thing about his job was that he often got to see his good friend Amanda Bentley-Wagner. She and FBI agent Ron Wagner had finally gotten together a few years after Steve and Maribeth had married, and Ron had officially adopted both her boys. Amanda's oldest son Dion was now a captain in the West Valley Division, and CJ was a vascular surgeon at Community General. His goddaughter Hannah was a microbiologist at UCLA and she often provided her expertise in investigations for the LAPD, no matter how hard her brothers, father, and godfather tried to keep her out of trouble.
After the meeting, Steve had pulled Amanda aside, grinning, and said, "You'll never guess who walked into my office today, looking for a job."
"You're right," she said curtly, "I won't."
He drew back, obviously a little hurt at her abrupt manner.
She softened quickly and apologized.
"I'm sorry, Steve. Dion had something come up, and Charisse had to work, so Ron and I kept the kids. Amber and Reg sleep through the night, now, but Jade was so fussy. I don't know if I slept at all last night."
Steve smiled sympathetically and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."
"That's ok. Tell me, who was it?"
He grinned broadly and told her all about Lieutenant Emily Morgan Stephens and her accomplishments and how much she resembled her mother in looks and manner.
As he finished, Amanda clutched his arm and said, "Omigod, Steve. Omigod. Have you told Mark? Does Jesse know?"
"No, Amanda, not yet." He looked at her seriously, and said, "I know this is rather unfair, but could you keep it to yourself for now? It just occurred to me that I really need to tell Maribeth before I talk to anyone else about it."
"You're right. I'll keep my mouth shut, but, omigod, Steve, this is too wonderful."
"Uh…'Manda?"
"Yes?"
"Any suggestions on how to break the news to Maribeth?"
Amanda cocked an eyebrow in thought and said, "Not right now. Give me a couple days to think and I'll let you know."
"Ok, thanks, 'Manda."
"No problem."
Now Steve was leaving his office. Leigh Ann had gone home a couple hours ago. Steve had arranged for seats for her and her husband at the opera and dinner at a fine restaurant in the city. Now that the hiring was finished, he was also giving her the week off. She had been under as much stress as he had since the scandal had erupted two years ago, and he owed her. 'The fact is,' he mused, 'it's probably been harder on her than on you, Sloan. She's the one who has to keep you in line.'
He was about to lock the door, when a soft voice said, "Please, Chief, may we speak for a moment in private."
Steve gave a half grin. She was nothing if not bold.
He opened the door and let Emily walk in ahead of him.
Wheeling on him as soon as she entered the room, she began to babble, "I know this is a bit presumptuous, and I'm sorry to take up your time when I know you'd really rather be going home, but this has been on my mind all day, and it's really bothering me so I have to ask, does your relationship to my mother have anything to do with my getting this job?"
It took Steve a moment to decode all the verbiage and discover the question. When he finally did, he answered simply.
"No, lieutenant, it had nothing at all to do with your being hired. I didn't even know who you were until you walked into my office. Captain Cioffi made the recommendation. I've never seen your file or even your résumé. You got the job because you're highly qualified."
She looked relieved. "Thank you, sir."
Steve started for the door, but she didn't move.
"Lieutenant?"
"Sir, will it have anything to do with my keeping this job?"
Steve sighed heavily. She was so like her mother, filled with insecurity and self-doubt lurking behind a confident, competent, comfortable facade.
"Think about what you said in the interview, Lieutenant, about why you said you wanted to work here. What do you think?"
She thought a moment and said, "No, sir, I suppose not. I'm sorry, that was a stupid question."
"It's all right, Lieutenant. If we're finished here, I really do need to leave. I have a date with my wife."
"Oh, yes, sir, I'm sorry, sir."
She walked past him as he held the door for her, and she walked with him to the elevator. Together, they took the elevator to the ground floor and left the building. Before they parted ways, Lieutenant Stephens asked one more question.
"Sir? May I tell my mother?"
"Tell her…?"
"You have a date with your wife. I think Mom would be glad to know."
Steve mulled it over. It couldn't hurt.
"Yes, you may. Tell her…her name is Maribeth, and we've been happy for thirty years now. We have a son."
Emily smiled, obviously happy for him.
"Thank you, sir. Oh, and sir?"
Steve sighed. She was a tenacious creature. That was usually good in a cop, but not when your chief just wanted to go home.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Mom said if I ever met you to tell you that she kept her promise. She said you'd know what that means."
Steve smiled. "Yes, I do, Lieutenant. Thank you for telling me. Good night."
As he got into the car, Steve found himself wondering exactly how much the young woman knew about him and her mother.
Captain Alberto Cioffi arrived promptly at one o'clock.
"How's it going, Al," Steve asked as he shook the man's hand.
"It'll be going a lot better if you let me have these two lieutenants, Chief."
"Tell me about it," Steve commiserated as Al and Cheryl shook. "I've done so many interviews the past year and a half, I feel like I should be getting a separate paycheck from personnel."
They shared a laugh, and at Steve's request Al gave him and Cheryl the complete rundown on the first of his two candidates. Steve was pleased to see that the man didn't need to refer to the folder of documentation he had on her. It was important for a cop to have a good memory for facts. It saved time that might otherwise be lost looking things up repeatedly.
"Emily Morgan Baer, Chief. B-A-E-R."
Something was already niggling at the back of Steve's brain.
"She grew up in Pennsylvania, in some little town I can't pronounce, attended Penn State, had her Master's in Administration of Justice and completed her training at the Allegheny County Police Academy by the time she was twenty one. She's a bona fide genius."
The niggle started tickling.
"She also took some law courses before she decided in her legal ethics course that, as she said, 'The only thing there was to learn about legal ethics is that there aren't any'."
Steve smiled at that. He recalled his own aborted attempt to earn a law degree, and remembered the more confounding aspects of the convoluted ethical code that lawyers were expected to follow.
"She went to work for the Clearfield County Pennsylvania Sheriff's office in 2025 and by 2027 she was a sergeant. She's good at her job, chief, trained in hostage negotiation, investigative techniques, SWAT--she's a sniper, and she even took some basic forensic medicine courses so she would understand better what the ME does."
Grinning at Cheryl, Steve said, "Amanda would love that."
That little niggling tickle was becoming a rather forceful tug. Surely, this time Steve's instincts were wrong. Of all the people in the entire world who might choose to be cops, how could anyone connected with *her* possibly end up in his office?
Cheryl nodded, and Steve gestured for Cioffi to continue.
"You remember in '29 when they had that bio-terrorism espionage mess back east?"
"Right before our own little disaster? Yeah, I remember some of it," Steve said. He remembered the story breaking right around Thanksgiving, but most of the aftermath was lost to him in the swirling chaos of the LAPD-Mob investigations, inquiries, and trials of 2030.
"She ran the investigation. Even when the NSA stepped in, she was still in charge because by then she had done all the legwork for them. It was easier for them to let her run things than it was to have her bring them up to speed."
"Wow." That's all Cheryl could think of to say.
"Yes, ma'am. She's one hell of a woman."
"Really?" Steve asked, and Cioffi blushed.
"That's not what I meant, sir, but yeah, she's a knockout, too."
"Well, Commander," Steve said, looking at Cheryl. "Are we ready to see Captain Cioffi's knockout?"
"I'm ready if you are, sir."
Steve paged his assistant.
"Leigh Ann, could you please send Ms. Baer in now."
There was a pause, then Leigh Ann replied in a puzzled voice, "Chief, there's no Ms. Baer signed in on the book. Wait a second, sir."
"I know I saw her in the waiting room," Cioffi insisted.
The three officers looked at one another in bemusement until Leigh Ann came back on the speaker and said, "Sorry about the confusion, sir. She's on her way."
When a statuesque, freckle-faced, redhead with sparkling green-gold eyes and a wide, mobile mouth entered the office, that ticklish, niggling tug in the back of Steve's brain turned into a massive fist and smashed all coherent thought out the top of his skull. She wore a dark green business suit with a knee-length skirt, and her hair was bound in a neat pile of curls on top of her head. Except for her height--she must have been six feet tall, and with the heels and the hair she looked closer to six four or six five--she looked just like Olivia. Steve muttered some form of greeting and gaped like a fish out of water as she shook first his hand then Cheryl's and finally Cioffi's.
"I'm sorry I didn't mention it before, Captain, but I didn't know until I got the mail this morning. My final decree of divorce just came through. My application was in my married name, but I'm going back to my maiden name as of now. It will take a few weeks for all of the official documentation to come through, but I'm no longer Emily Baer."
"And what is you maiden name, then," Cioffi asked as he opened her file and took out a pen to make the correction.
"Stephens," Steve answered before she could open her mouth.
"You know each other?"
"No, sir," Emily told the Captain. At Cioffi's confused look, she explained, "The chief knows my mother."
Looking at Steve, she said, "I was wondering if you'd make the connection, sir. My parents say hello."
Steve nodded, and remembering his manners, he asked, "How are they?"
"Both of them are doing well, sir, thank you for asking. Mom's been chief of surgery at the county hospital for years now, but she's getting ready to retire. She sick of the administrative aspects of the job. Dad retired from the sheriff's department twenty years ago. Now he runs the custom cabinet and furniture workshop at Strawcutter and Redmond lumber yard. May I tell them you're doing well?"
"As well as can be expected in light of events of the past couple years. Shall we begin?" He gestured her into a seat, amazed at how like her mother she was. He was so stunned at seeing her he could barely follow a single thought all the way to it's end, but like Olivia all those years ago, Emily was able to manipulate the conversation subtly to give him the time he needed to collect himself before he looked like a fool. He guessed she shared the gift with her extraordinary mother and didn't even know how remarkable it was. Nevertheless, he was grateful.
"So, tell us about yourself," Cheryl began.
Emily briefly summed up what Cioffi had told them, and added more information about her accomplishments, interests, and unique talents. One thing that particularly impressed them all was that she was also a self- defense and firing-range instructor.
"Well," Steve said, "It seems you were a big fish in a small pond. Why come to LA?"
Emily smiled. "As you said, sir, the pond was getting rather small. After BioGen, everybody in Western PA knew me. Going undercover was out of the question, which was good because it kept me out of vice…"
Everyone chuckled at the remark.
"…but bad because it limited what I could do for the sheriff's department in other cases. Also, well, my ex works for the sheriff and…I'm sure you remember what a small community it is."
Cheryl looked concerned. "You were afraid you would not be able to maintain a professional relationship?"
"Not exactly, ma'am. We each trusted the other to do the job. Always. That was unquestionable, but it was not a pleasant split. Our friends were starting to take sides, whether we wanted them to or not, and since most of our friends were cops, it put quite a strain on the sheriff's department. Ian and I decided together that it would be best for everyone we worked with if one of us would go elsewhere. His mother lives in Pittsburgh, and he's all she has. My folks have lots of friends and family in the area. So, it only made sense for me to be the one to go."
"Ok," Steve said. "That's why you left home. Why come to LA?"
She shrugged, just like her mother and seemed to weigh her response for a few moments.
"While working the BioGen case, I became one of their victims. About twenty percent of us survived. About two percent actually recovered. I was one of the 'lucky' ones."
"But…" Steve prompted, knowing as soon as he saw the shrug that there was a 'but'.
"But I have found 'recovered' means able to carry on, not back to normal."
"So," Cioffi asked angrily. "You mean to say you have lingering health problems you didn't disclose on your application."
Steve was impressed with the way Emily handled herself when she responded.
"No, sir, absolutely not, sir. It is not a health problem, and it *is* disclosed in my application. I suffer from extreme hypersensitivity to cold. If it drops much below thirty-five degrees, I begin to develop hypothermia, and it is very difficult to reverse. Staying in Western PA was not an option. I'd have died."
"Why not Florida," Steve asked. "You'd be closer to home."
Emily shrugged again, and again appeared to weigh her answer.
"My mom already has a house here. It made the move a lot cheaper and easier."
"And…" Steve nudged, knowing the cost of moving was not an issue and that the shrug meant there was more.
Emily sighed, wondering how the hell the Deputy Chief could read her so well after having just met her minutes ago. She saw his eyes widen minutely in surprise when she looked directly at him and said, "Please understand that this is completely sincere, sir. The only reason I hesitated to tell you was because I was afraid you would think it simple, spineless flattery. I don't flatter anyone, sir. I *always* say exactly what I mean."
Steve smiled. She was just like her mother. They probably drove each other nuts.
"Continue, Ms. Stephens."
"I was four years old sitting in my daddy's lap watching the riots of 2007 when I saw you, sir," she turned to Cheryl, "and you, ma'am, and three other officers take off your gear and face down that mob with just a handful of cops behind you. Daddy whispered into my ear, 'That's Mama and Daddy's friend, Steve. He's a hero, but no matter what you hear, remember that he was a hero long before this ever happened.'"
There was a silence in the room. No one knew what to say. Steve was visibly embarrassed. Emily realized that she hadn't finished her answer, and continued.
"I spent most of 2030 watching the LAPD-Mob trials from a hospital bed while recovering from the BioGen virus. I was impressed with the way the members of the Valley Bureau handled themselves. From the greenest patrolman all the way up through the chain of command, everyone projected integrity, loyalty, pride, and courage."
She paused for thought. "When I heard about how they planned to use Valley Bureau personnel to rebuild the LAPD, I knew I wanted to be a part of it. I never expected to meet you, sir, but you, and those like you," she included Cheryl and Cioffi in her glance, "are the real reason I came to LA."
"You know you'll have to complete some course work on local and state laws and regulations," Steve said.
"I'm almost finished, sir. I moved out here in September--the house was my birthday present--and I started the classes right away. I'm a quick study. I expect to be finished by May."
Steve looked to Cheryl, and she gave the slightest nod. Cioffi eyes begged. Steve knew he'd be a fool to say no. Hell, he didn't want to say no. He liked the kid, and she sounded like a damned fine cop. Standing up, he came round the desk, extended his hand, and shook Emily's.
"Welcome to the LAPD, Lieutenant Stephens. You can report for duty tomorrow. Arrange the time with your CO here."
Emily shot up out of her seat, grinning. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
A few more remarks were made, she was given instructions to speak to Leigh Ann on the way out to take care of her pension, insurance, payroll, and other paperwork, and as the door shut behind her, Steve said to Cioffi, "Ok, Al, who's the poor sod who has to follow that act?"
At about five thirty, Steve decided to pack it in for the day. Cioffi got his other lieutenant, even though Bremer was less than impressive. He had twice as much time in as Emily, but had accomplished less that half what she had. Overall, though, he was a good, solid, steady fellow, and one could always hope Lieutenant Stephens would pull him along in her wake and lead him to achieve more.
After the second interview, he'd had a meeting with the other chiefs, some forensic investigators, and the chief ME. Another good thing about his job was that he often got to see his good friend Amanda Bentley-Wagner. She and FBI agent Ron Wagner had finally gotten together a few years after Steve and Maribeth had married, and Ron had officially adopted both her boys. Amanda's oldest son Dion was now a captain in the West Valley Division, and CJ was a vascular surgeon at Community General. His goddaughter Hannah was a microbiologist at UCLA and she often provided her expertise in investigations for the LAPD, no matter how hard her brothers, father, and godfather tried to keep her out of trouble.
After the meeting, Steve had pulled Amanda aside, grinning, and said, "You'll never guess who walked into my office today, looking for a job."
"You're right," she said curtly, "I won't."
He drew back, obviously a little hurt at her abrupt manner.
She softened quickly and apologized.
"I'm sorry, Steve. Dion had something come up, and Charisse had to work, so Ron and I kept the kids. Amber and Reg sleep through the night, now, but Jade was so fussy. I don't know if I slept at all last night."
Steve smiled sympathetically and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."
"That's ok. Tell me, who was it?"
He grinned broadly and told her all about Lieutenant Emily Morgan Stephens and her accomplishments and how much she resembled her mother in looks and manner.
As he finished, Amanda clutched his arm and said, "Omigod, Steve. Omigod. Have you told Mark? Does Jesse know?"
"No, Amanda, not yet." He looked at her seriously, and said, "I know this is rather unfair, but could you keep it to yourself for now? It just occurred to me that I really need to tell Maribeth before I talk to anyone else about it."
"You're right. I'll keep my mouth shut, but, omigod, Steve, this is too wonderful."
"Uh…'Manda?"
"Yes?"
"Any suggestions on how to break the news to Maribeth?"
Amanda cocked an eyebrow in thought and said, "Not right now. Give me a couple days to think and I'll let you know."
"Ok, thanks, 'Manda."
"No problem."
Now Steve was leaving his office. Leigh Ann had gone home a couple hours ago. Steve had arranged for seats for her and her husband at the opera and dinner at a fine restaurant in the city. Now that the hiring was finished, he was also giving her the week off. She had been under as much stress as he had since the scandal had erupted two years ago, and he owed her. 'The fact is,' he mused, 'it's probably been harder on her than on you, Sloan. She's the one who has to keep you in line.'
He was about to lock the door, when a soft voice said, "Please, Chief, may we speak for a moment in private."
Steve gave a half grin. She was nothing if not bold.
He opened the door and let Emily walk in ahead of him.
Wheeling on him as soon as she entered the room, she began to babble, "I know this is a bit presumptuous, and I'm sorry to take up your time when I know you'd really rather be going home, but this has been on my mind all day, and it's really bothering me so I have to ask, does your relationship to my mother have anything to do with my getting this job?"
It took Steve a moment to decode all the verbiage and discover the question. When he finally did, he answered simply.
"No, lieutenant, it had nothing at all to do with your being hired. I didn't even know who you were until you walked into my office. Captain Cioffi made the recommendation. I've never seen your file or even your résumé. You got the job because you're highly qualified."
She looked relieved. "Thank you, sir."
Steve started for the door, but she didn't move.
"Lieutenant?"
"Sir, will it have anything to do with my keeping this job?"
Steve sighed heavily. She was so like her mother, filled with insecurity and self-doubt lurking behind a confident, competent, comfortable facade.
"Think about what you said in the interview, Lieutenant, about why you said you wanted to work here. What do you think?"
She thought a moment and said, "No, sir, I suppose not. I'm sorry, that was a stupid question."
"It's all right, Lieutenant. If we're finished here, I really do need to leave. I have a date with my wife."
"Oh, yes, sir, I'm sorry, sir."
She walked past him as he held the door for her, and she walked with him to the elevator. Together, they took the elevator to the ground floor and left the building. Before they parted ways, Lieutenant Stephens asked one more question.
"Sir? May I tell my mother?"
"Tell her…?"
"You have a date with your wife. I think Mom would be glad to know."
Steve mulled it over. It couldn't hurt.
"Yes, you may. Tell her…her name is Maribeth, and we've been happy for thirty years now. We have a son."
Emily smiled, obviously happy for him.
"Thank you, sir. Oh, and sir?"
Steve sighed. She was a tenacious creature. That was usually good in a cop, but not when your chief just wanted to go home.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Mom said if I ever met you to tell you that she kept her promise. She said you'd know what that means."
Steve smiled. "Yes, I do, Lieutenant. Thank you for telling me. Good night."
As he got into the car, Steve found himself wondering exactly how much the young woman knew about him and her mother.
