Disclaimer: The show and the characters belong to CBS and Viacom. They are merely being borrowed for this piece of fan fiction.
Author's Note: This is my first piece of fan fiction. Any constructive criticism and help will be gladly accepted. Many thanks, to a special lady who has willingly shared her talent and her time to help me write this story. Her encouragement and friendship gave me the courage to do this.
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Impossible Choices
Chapter 1 - A Murder For The Headlines
It was a typical October morning in Malibu. The fog from the night before was still visible on the horizon and the air had a slight chill. Mark stood looking out the window at the lone figure on the deck. He knew he should go out and encourage him to come in to the warmth of the house, but one of the few times Steve ever relaxed was when he was in close proximity to the ocean. With a deep sigh, he opened the door and walked to stand beside his son. "Good Morning, Son." There was an almost imperceptible nod of Steve's head to acknowledge his presence. "There is certainly a chill in the air this morning." Again the slight head movement. "Steve, I know you are feeling better but you are a long way from recovered won't you please come inside where it's warmer?" Finally Steve turned to look at his father and, as their gazes locked, Mark almost looked away from the tear stained face. He had never seen his strong stoic son look so devastated. How could he possibly help him?
Two Weeks Earlier
"Dad, I'm home. What's for supper?" As he bounded up the stairs towards the kitchen Steve couldn't suppress the grin that split his face. His dad stood in the kitchen in full kitchen regalia. He not only had on his normal apron but he also had on a chef's hat.
As he turned to face his son, Mark smiled and waved a greeting. "Jesse and Amanda should be here soon and dinner is almost ready. Tonight we eat Mediterranean. "Uhmmmm… wow that… uhhh… sounds good, Dad." At that moment Steve's phone rang. "Sloan here." Mark saw Steve's brow wrinkle and instinctively knew that Steve would not be joining them for dinner. As Steve ended the phone call he sighed heavily as he flipped the cell phone closed.
"Got a new case, Son?" Steve didn't immediately respond. "Steve?"
Steve looked towards his dad. "I'm sorry what did you say?"
"I asked, if your call was about a new case?"
"Yeah, Dad, that was Cheryl. We have a 9 year old boy whose mother found him in the backyard with his throat slit." Mark shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and anger. He would never understand what could drive someone to harm a child, much less murder one in such a horrible manner. He knew Steve was good at what he did because he was able to remain detached from the emotions that surrounded the murders he investigated. The one thing that could always pierce that armor was the murder of a child.
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"No Dad, Jesse and Amanda will be here soon. Enjoy your dinner and if I get home early enough we can talk then."
As Steve drove down the tree-lined street, he couldn't help but think that this was the stereotypical middle class American street. Bad things weren't supposed to happen here. His vision zeroed in on the neat house with the well manicured yard; he wryly mused that all that was missing was the white picket fence. As he parked on the street he saw Cheryl walking down the drive to meet him.
"Hey, partner," she said as she approached the car.
"Hey, yourself. "What, have you got so far?"
"This is the Rayburn residence. Michael and Sharon both 34. The deceased is their son Kevin; he was 9. They also have a daughter Kendra who is 7. Mrs. Rayburn is 7 months pregnant."
"Mom and the kids were home?"
"Kevin was playing in the backyard and Mrs. Rayburn and Kendra had come out front to work in the flowers."
"And they didn't hear anything?" Steve asked in a faintly disbelieving tone.
"No, they said they didn't. Mrs. Rayburn and Kendra finished with the flowers and went in to start dinner. The mother didn't see Kevin out the back window so she went to look for him. That's when she found the body."
Steve sighed. "Ok let me take a look out back and then let's talk to the mother again." As he turned to walk away Cheryl rested her hand lightly on his arm. At his questioning look, she felt slightly embarrassed. He was, after all, a seasoned homicide detective but then so was she, and she was certainly glad she hadn't eaten yet when she viewed the body.
"Steve, it's pretty gruesome I just wanted you to be prepared."
A slight smile that lifted one corner of his mouth indicated his opinion of her comment "Cheryl, I have been doing this a long time and have seen a lot. I think I can handle this."
He was wrong. The child lay sprawled close to a large tree. His face was frozen in a mask that Steve could only describe as disbelief. There didn't appear to be any obvious signs of a struggle. The yard was surrounded by a privacy fence and in what was a rarity for Southern California, it was a decent sized backyard. He dropped to one knee by the small body and observed an average sized boy with black hair and green eyes. Eyes that at one time had probably sparkled with mischief and merriment but now only seemed to bore into Steve's soul. He broke the eye contact to look at the fatal wound in the neck. Whoever had done it, had known what they were doing. They made sure the cut was deep enough to hit the jugular. The child had never stood a chance. He was glad Amanda wasn't on duty; this one would have been hard on her. Hell, it was hard on him. He stood up and began to walk the perimeter of the yard. In his mind's eye, he could see the boy as he had been only a short time ago laughing and playing. This should have been the boy's safe haven, instead it had turned into a deathtrap. He looked towards the house and saw Cheryl waiting for him. With one last look around the yard he moved towards her, and they continued into the house and on towards the family room.
The Rayburns sat on the couch. Michael with an arm around Sharon. Kendra sat off to the left of her father and towards the side of the couch. Sharon was weeping softly, and Michael's eyes were red rimmed. Kendra appeared to be almost detached from the entire situation. Steve tried to make eye contact with her and offer a reassuring smile but it proved futile. She would not make eye contact.
"Mr. and Mrs. Rayburn, I'm Lt. Steve Sloan. First, let me say how sorry I am for your loss. Do you feel up to answering some questions for me?"
Mr. Rayburn looked up and said, "We will do whatever it takes to catch the animal that did this."
"Ok but if at any point you want to stop please tell me. Mrs. Rayburn, can you tell me about your day?"
She never lifted her head and in a voice heavy with tears she began to reconstruct her day. Steve listened to the details intently hoping that someone or something that she described would set off his warning bells. As she reached the events that had happened after she arrived home with the kids, he leaned forward as if that would somehow make the details more vivid. As Mrs. Rayburn continued to speak Steve found his eye's drifting towards Kendra. In those eye's so like her brother's, Steve saw a darkness and a sadness that he knew would haunt the child her entire life.
At the conclusion of her story Steve paused for a moment to allow Mrs. Rayburn to regain her composure. "So once you and Kendra went out front, neither of you saw or heard Kevin until you went looking for him?"
"Yes, that's correct."
Steve glanced back over his notes trying to decide if it was the best time to question Kendra. He quickly realized that there probably was never going to be a 'best time'. "Mr. and Mrs. Rayburn, would it be ok if I asked Kendra some questions?"
They shared a glance, and with a slight nod the father indicated his approval. He reached towards his daughter and gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "Kendra, I need you to talk to this man; he wants to help us find out what happened to your brother." The child looked at her parents her face a picture of apprehension. "Kendra, it's ok," said her father.
Steve knelt down in front of the child and very softly asked, "Kendra, can you tell me if any strangers have been hanging around your school?"
Dark green eyes peeked tentatively out of long fringed lashes. "No."
"What about when you and Kevin have been playing out in the yard?"
"No."
"Can you tell me what happened when you got home today?" There was a slight hesitation and a furtive glance towards her parents.
Her father once again voiced his encouragement. "It's ok baby, just tell him what happened." With a sigh that seemed too large for her small body, Kendra all but whispered a story that mirrored the one her mother had just shared.
With a look to Cheryl, who nodded her agreement, Steve flipped his notebook closed and stood up. "Thank you and again I am deeply sorry for your loss. That's all for now. The coroner will be in shortly and explain what happens once they take Kevin. We will be in touch, and if you have any questions, please feel free to call."
As he and Cheryl moved down the driveway he stopped briefly and looked back at the house. He was again struck by the storybook image it presented. Yeah, only if Stephen King is writing the story, he thought sardonically. He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down into a pair of dark green eyes. Kendra had followed them out.
"Kevin always wanted to be a policeman. He said policemen always protect people and keep them safe. Is that true?"
Steve squatted down to her level. "We certainly try to do that, Kendra." As she looked him eye to eye she delivered a verbal arrow to his heart. "Then why didn't you keep Kevin safe?"
Steve found himself unable to maintain eye contact. "I wish I had, Kendra. I wish I had."
By the time Steve and Cheryl finished the paperwork, routine checks on the family members, and began the process of requesting information on any recent parole's that fit the profile of the crime, it was after 2AM. Steve pulled into the driveway at the beach house and rested his head on the steering wheel. He was bone weary. He climbed out of the car and entered the house as quietly as possible. He undressed and climbed into bed hoping that in the morning 'the clue' would be discovered. As he drifted off to sleep, he had the vague feeling that he had missed something, but fatigue overtook him and he knew no more.
Steve jerked awake abruptly and looked at the clock. 4:30AM. His sleep had been interrupted by a black haired green eyed boy who had asked him why he hadn't kept him safe. Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands. "Oh great the victim's going to haunt me – no pressure on this one, he muttered to himself." He knew there would be no more sleep this night, so he slowly made his way to the bathroom to shower and then head to the precinct.
Mark woke before his alarm sounded. He turned to look at the illuminated numbers and saw 6AM. He had a faint feeling of unease; something was not right. He slid out of the bed and made his way out into the main rooms of the house. He stopped near the foyer and listened for signs of activity from Steve's unit. When he heard nothing, he moved towards the front door to look for Steve's car in the driveway. He was not surprised that it was gone. Since he had not heard Steve come in, he didn't know whether he was pulling an all-nighter or had been home. Mark was well aware that the demands of the job could sometimes involve long hours but that didn't mean he still didn't worry about his obviously full-grown son. Steve sometimes allowed his work to consume him even at the risk of his own well being. It was both his son's greatest strength as well as his greatest weakness. Mark sighed heavily and made his way towards the kitchen to prepare a solitary breakfast in which he was sure he would find no enjoyment.
As Cheryl walked into the precinct she found her partner already at his desk and hunched over a stack of papers. With a bemused smile on her face, which spoke volumes about her ability to read her partner, she said, "Good morning." Her only response was a rather brusque grunt. "What are you doing?"
A brief nod at the papers and a barely audible "reading" was the reply.
"Oh, so we are in cave man mode this morning. Me Steve, me read go away."
He finally lifted his head and the beginnings of a smile began to curve his lips. He knew why he loved this woman as his partner, she waded right in and didn't let him get away with anything. "Sorry, short night. I am reading through the reports gathered by the officers who canvassed the neighborhood."
"Anything interesting?" she asked.
"Not really, unless you find it as scary as I do that some people seem to have nothing better to do with their day except keep track of each time their neighbors come and go. Some of these people could do surveillance for us."
She smiled and settled into the chair by his desk. "You want to give me some of those?"
Steve leaned back in his chair and blew air through his mouth. He looked over to Cheryl who was just completing her last report. "Well?" he asked.
"Nope, nothing nadda," she responded.
They were interrupted by Steve's phone ringing. "Sloan here….Good morning Amanda." Cheryl observed him as his listened intently. "Ok we will be there shortly." He hung up the phone and addressed his partner. "That was Amanda. The overnight guy left her the autopsy results. You ready for a trip to Community General?"
"Sure," she replied.
As they entered the doors to Community General, Steve smiled to himself. He knew the restraint his father has shown in not calling him already this morning. He also knew that Amanda would have told him that they were on their way over. He had no doubt that he would have already reviewed the autopsy report and be waiting in the pathology lab for them to arrive. As expected, as they pushed open the door to the morgue he saw three familiar expectant faces.
"Hey, Steve, you missed a great dinner last night," said Jesse.
"Yeah, Jess. It just meant that much more for you to eat. So what have you got for me on the autopsy?" Amanda tilted her head slightly and in her normal concise way related the results of the autopsy. Steve shook his head. "Ok, this just got more confusing. You're saying that Kevin Rayburn's body showed signs of abuse?"
"Yes," replied Amanda. "His ribs show multiple fractures. Most are old, but there is one new one. He also has fractures showing in both arms and legs and scars from burns on his torso and thighs. This child had been horribly abused."
Steve looked at Cheryl. "Did anyone we talk to indicate any signs of abuse?"
"No," said Cheryl. "I had thought we would go by the school after we left here. I guess I need to put a call into Child Protective Services as well and make sure they haven't ever been called."
"Ok let's split up I'll go by the school and then we can meet back at the station later." Steve instructed.
"Sure," Cheryl replied.
"Son?" Mark asked. Steve looked expectantly at Mark. "I've got a slow day here how about I go to the school with you?"
"Sure, Dad."