Impossible Choices

Chapter 4 - A Murderer Revealed

Mark's sharp intake of breath had alerted Steve to the danger and also reminded him that his father was now in harms way.  Steve moved slightly so that his body completely covered his father's.  Steve smiled a small tight smile.  "Mrs. Rayburn, please put down the gun before someone gets hurt." 

As she pinned him with her gaze she stated simply, "Someone already got hurt, Lieutenant.  Actually someone got dead," she laughed. 

Steve knew he needed to proceed carefully and get both Kendra and his dad out of the room.  A more difficult problem was how do you subdue a woman with a gun who also happens to be 7 months pregnant.  From behind him, Steve heard Mark shift positions.  He had moved out from behind Steve and towards Mrs. Rayburn.  Steve quickly nodded his disapproval of this course of action but Mark continued on. 

"Mrs. Rayburn," Mark spoke drawing her attention and the gun his way.  "What happened here today?" 

She sighed slightly and talking almost as if to herself, "I guess it doesn't really matter anymore.  Both of the evil ones are dead now.  I could have had a real career but he married me and got me pregnant and then made me quit work.  All to take of that little brat that looked just like him.  He was gone all the time probably having affairs with other women and I was stuck here with HIS son.  He was going to be just like his father.  He was already disrespectful.  I picked him up from school that day and he asked what we were having for supper.  Can you imagine the nerve to assume that I would feed him.  He was not worthy of my time.  I was here to cook, clean and have sex.  I meant nothing to him.  The boy was just like him.  I decided right then that he had to be stopped.  Kendra and I needed to be free." 

Steve knew then that she was mentally unbalanced.  Her resentment of her husband had been transferred to her son.  What was he to do?  He had to worry about his father and Kendra and he couldn't risk shooting Mrs. Rayburn for fear of harming her unborn child.  He was faced with a series of impossible choices.  In the end the decision was made for him.  As if sensing his turmoil, Mrs. Rayburn looked back towards him and in the same instance swung the gun back towards his chest.  Mark screamed a warning but Steve's fear of harming the baby prevented him from using his gun.  Mrs. Rayburn pulled the trigger twice in quick succession.  The first bullet hit Steve in the upper right arm the second hit him high in the right side of the chest.  His thought as he crumpled to the ground was, "Damn she's a good shot."

As the initial shock of the wounds wore off, Steve became aware of his father calling his name.  He looked up and saw Mrs. Rayburn shifting her gaze and the gun back towards his father and Kendra.  Kendra, how had she gotten with his father? he asked himself.  She must have run when her mother shot me, was the response from his muddled mind. 

Things seemed to move in slow motion from there.  As the gun swung towards his father and Kendra, Steve forced himself into a sitting position and aimed his gun towards the arm that she held her gun in.  As he pulled the trigger, the reverberation sounded ten times louder than normal.  He saw the gun fall, then the arm dropped and finally the body fell to the floor.

His father's worried face was in front of him, telling him to lie back.  He complied but reached his left arm towards his father and said, "Dad, please you have to check on Mrs. Rayburn and the baby." 

As he patted Steve on the arm, Mark fumbled in his jacket for his cell phone and placed first a call to 911, and then a call to Cheryl.  He put his handkerchief on the shoulder wound and moved Steve's left hand over the wound to apply pressure.  He then moved over to Mrs. Rayburn. 

Steve's bullet had hit her in the shoulder.  It was bleeding heavily and Mark knew at that moment the child was at risk.  Between the trauma to the body and the blood loss, the situation was critical.  From across the room Steve asked, "How is she, Dad?" 

Mark shook his head and said, "Not good, Son.  She's losing a lot of blood." 

Steve moved as if to get up and grimaced with pain.  Mark quickly moved back towards him and placed a restraining hand on his uninjured shoulder.  "Steve, stay where you are.  You are in no condition to be moving around."  As Mark spoke, he heard the sounds of sirens as they got closer "Thank God." 

"Dad," Steve gasped.  "I forgot about Michael Rayburn.  Is he still alive?"  Mark as well had forgotten about the man behind the couch.  As he moved toward the couch and observed the body no further examination was needed.  His eyes were open and he had a neat clean bullet wound right between the eyes.  She had taken no chances that he would survive.  She had executed him as cleanly as she had their son. 

As he pulled his eyes away from the body, he noticed Kendra moving towards Steve.  She stopped a few feet in front of him and in a voice that trembled with unshed tears this time delivered a verbal bullet through his heart.  "You shot my Mommy.  Why did you do that?  You didn't help Kevin and then you shot my Mommy.  Kevin was wrong policemen don't keep people safe, they only hurt them."  She dropped her eyes to the floor and wrung her hands.  After a brief pause she looked back up, held Steve's gaze, and all but whispered, "You shot my Mommy."  She then turned away and walked across the room to kneel beside her mother. 

Steve looked up to find his father watching him and found himself unable to maintain eye contact.  His father started to move towards him but was interrupted by the arrival of an ambulance crew and the arrival of Cheryl.  Mark directed the first crew towards the body of Mrs. Rayburn.  He intercepted Cheryl as she made a beeline towards her fallen partner.  "Cheryl, we need the coroner as well.  Michael Rayburn is dead." 

Cheryl was stunned.  'Did Steve shoot him?" 

"No," Mark said.  "His wife did." 

Cheryl shook her head.  "How's Steve?" 

Mark looked again towards his son.  "Not good.  The wounds are bad enough, but Cheryl he just shot a pregnant woman in front of her 7 year old daughter.  How do you deal with that?"  Cheryl was saved from a response by the arrival of a second ambulance crew. 

Knowing that Mrs. Rayburn was in good hands, Mark could concentrate on his son.  The paramedics were cutting away his shirt and applying bandages to the wounds.  Mark was pleased to see that the bleeding had already lessened.  Mark leaned down towards him and spoke softly, "Steve?"  As his son's eyes fluttered open Mark almost wished he hadn't opened them.  His son's eyes were filled with pain.  Mark couldn't tell whether the pain was from his wounds or emotional.  He suspected it was a combination of both.  He watched as Steve's eyes closed again and saw his body relax as the light sedative the paramedics had given him took effect.  Mark sighed and once again pulled out his cell phone to make a call.  This time to Jesse to let him know what had happened and that they were on their way.

Mark sat in Steve's room and spoke quietly with Jesse.  Steve had come through the surgery fine.  Though his wounds would be painful and require some physical therapy, they were by no means life threatening.  Not for the first time, Mark breathed a sign of relief as Steve had once again figuratively dodged a bullet.  Mark's concerns this time were rooted in his son's emotional well being.  The comments Kendra had directed towards his son still bounced around his head and he had not yet even begun to consider how he would tell Steve that Mrs. Rayburn had lost her baby.  Mark's fears about the trauma to her system compromising the baby had been accurate.  The mother had survived.  The baby had not.  Considering the mother's attitude towards men, Mark had to wonder what kind of life the baby boy would have led if he had survived.  He wondered if death now might be more humane then leading a life of misery and pain.  His attention was drawn back by Jesse's question.  "I'm sorry, Jesse what did you say?" 

Jesse smiled.  "I asked if you were going home tonight.  He really is going to be fine and I suspect he will sleep through the night.  You look like you could use the rest." 

Mark smiled faintly.  "I am tired, Jesse but I just don't think I can leave him yet.  I want to be the one to tell him about the baby and I'm afraid that will be the first thing he asks when he comes around."  I am not looking forward to telling him but I think it needs to come from me." 

Not for the first time Jesse was envious of Steve.  Jesse was confident in his ability to match up with Steve when it came to their chosen careers, sports and with women.  The one area he never stood a chance was in Steve's relationship with his father.  Mark and Steve's relationship could be described very simply.  It was based on love, trust and friendship.  Jesse knew that he would never have the pleasure of that kind of relationship with his father.  Mark knew his son needed him sometimes even before Steve himself knew it.  Jesse smiled at his friend and mentor.  "I have the early shift in the morning.  Do you need anything before I go?" 

Mark, as always appreciative for the young doctor, smiled simply and said, "No, Jesse I'm fine.  I will see you in the morning."  Jesse patted Mark on the shoulder and left.

With the first rays of light streaming through the window, Mark shifted his position in his chair and stretched.  His gaze moved towards the bed and rested upon his son.  It took a moment for it to register that Steve's eyes were open.  Mark moved from his chair to the side of the bed.  He gently placed his hand on his son's arm and squeezed lightly.  "How do you feel, Son?" 

Steve continued to stare into space.  When he spoke his voice was hoarse.  "Did the baby make it?" he asked just as Mark had known he would. 

Mark patted Steve's arm and gently broke the news to him.  Steve said nothing just nodded his head and closed his eyes.  "Steve?" 

The only response was a quietly uttered "I'm tired, Dad."

It was several hours later before Steve roused again.  Mark secretly suspected that he had been awake on other occasions but had not bothered to open his eyes.  Jesse and Amanda had joined him and they had talking amongst themselves.  When Mark noticed Steve's eyes open he stopped mid sentence and moved once again to his son's side.  "Welcome back." 

Steve knew he needed to respond to his father; he heard the worry in his voice.  He slightly turned his head and said "Hi, Dad." 

Mark, encouraged by these small improvements, asked "How are you feeling?" 

Steve's response was an automatic "Fine." 

"Son, Jesse needs to examine you.  Are you up for that?" 

Again Mark received an automatic response, "Yes." 

Jesse made his way to the bed.  "Hey, big guy.  I see you forgot to duck again." 

Steve smiled lightly at his friend's teasing manner.  The exam was painful for all in the room.  Steve was pale and sweating by the time Jesse was done, and the others in sympathy with the discomfort he had just suffered looked much the same.  Jesse wrote entries in his chart as he spoke.  "You're looking good, Steve.  Your arm and shoulder will need a little therapy, but overall you were lucky.  I should be able to send you home in the next couple of days." 

Steve looked incredulously at Jesse.  "Lucky Jess, I shot a pregnant woman.  I killed her baby.  How is that lucky?" he all but sobbed.