Beauty Can Be Deadly

Chapter 2

"I'm telling you Mark, he is not a happy camper," Jesse explained.

"I know, Jesse, have you forgotten I live with him?  He was wound so tight last night I threatened to put him in time out," Mark responded wryly.

"Really," Jesse giggled.  "I bet that produced a fun reaction."

"Oh I guess you could say it did.  He had the same reaction that he used to have as a kid when he got in trouble.  He stomped off to his room muttering under his breath and slammed the door." 

"Do you think he'll show up today?" Jesse inquired.

"He'll be there.  He committed to it and one thing my son does is follow through on his commitments.  What time does the competition start today?"

"The talent portion starts at noon.  Was Steve going to the precinct this morning?"

As Mark started to answer they were interrupted by the door flying open and a figure that resembled the Tasmania Devil came whirling in.  "Which one of you is responsible?  I'm trying to do you a favor and all I get is grief.  Do you have any idea how long the guys at the station are going to rib me for this?"  Steve paused to take a breath and as Mark started to talk he was rudely interrupted.  "Well do you?"

The next figure glided into the room struggling desperately to suppress the laughter that threatened to erupt at any moment.  "Dr. Sloan, Jesse," Cheryl greeted.

"Cheryl, as always it's good to see you," Mark responded.  "I see the beauty is once again paired with the beast."

"Oh this is mild you should have been in the car on the way over here.  There is a cloud of profanity between the precinct and here.  I told him I was going to arrest him if he didn't settle down,"  Cheryl replied and finally allowed the smile to bust through.

Mark looked towards his son.  "Steve, why are you so upset this morning?"

"Oh, like you both don't know."

Jesse pulled himself up to his full height and faced the stone faced figure that stood on the other side of the room.  "Steve, what are you talking about?"

Steve sighed, "The two dozen red roses that were delivered to the precinct this morning.  They had a lovely card attached that promised me some things that I don't think are physically possible."

A slight bubble of laughter from Cheryl made her the recipient of a glare from her partner.  "I'm sorry, Steve, but you have to admit it's pretty funny."

"No, you're wrong Cheryl; you saw how the guys were.  And of course my faithful partner made sure that the card got passed around."

"What did the card say?" Jesse asked eagerly.

As Cheryl started to speak Steve interrupted her.  "It doesn't matter.  You all got me into this, so you can just get me out of it."

"Son, it's not that easy and don't you think you are overreacting a bit over some flowers?"

Realizing that he was going to get neither sympathy nor a reprieve from his judging duties, Steve gave them all one final glare and in a repeat performance of his actions the night before he stomped from the room muttering under his breath.

As she turned to follow her partner, Cheryl threw a comment over her shoulder to Jesse.  "I'll fax you over a copy of the card.  It really was priceless but I think he's right that it's physically impossible."

~~****~~

Steve sat with a slightly glazed look on his face.  He felt like he was trapped in an eternal episode of the Gong Show.  He had seen enough batons twirled to last him a life time.  The last woman had said she was going to sing.  He wasn't sure what it was but it wasn't singing.  He was envious of his friend to the left who could at least turn off his hearing aid.  And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse a woman came out with cymbals attached to her knees and spoons in her hands.  He dropped his head into his hands.  Will it never end?  Jesse, closing at Bob's the rest of my life isn't worth this.  His agony was interrupted by a scream from behind the curtain on the stage.  Grateful for a reprieve, he practically vaulted onto the stage.  As he made his way behind the curtain, he encountered a cluster of women who were unable to stand too closely together because of the width of their hair.  At their feet was one of their fellow contestants.  Steve knelt down beside the woman whom he recognized and placed two fingers against her neck.  He felt a faint pulse.  One of the light fixtures from the overhead tracking had fallen and hit her directly in the head.  Steve glanced up briefly and then reached into his pocket for his cell phone to place a call to 911 and then to Cheryl.  As he waited for her to answer, he gave instructions to the gathered crowd which had now grown to include the judges.  "I'll need everyone to stay here.  This looks like an accident but there are routine questions that have to be asked and answered.  Can someone please go out front and show the ambulance crew where we are when they get here?"  He received a nod from one of the judges who moved towards the door.

Things got hectic very quickly.  The ambulance arrived and transported the young woman to Community General.  Cheryl arrived shortly thereafter.  She entered the auditorium and arched an eyebrow at her partner.  "Resorting to extreme methods to get out of being a judge aren't you, Sloan?"  The glare thrown her way told her his mood had not improved from this morning.

"Detective Banks, I'm so glad you could join us," Steve responded sarcastically.  "The victim is Anthea Monroe.  She was gathered at the edge of the stage with the rest of the contestants enduring…I mean watching the talent portion of the pageant.  I don't have any reason to believe it wasn't an accident but she was in pretty bad shape.  The paramedics weren't real positive.  If she dies we will have to investigate so I decided to get a head start.  Feel like climbing up into the rafters with me?"

"Fine with me," Cheryl replied.

They made their way to the ladder that ascended into the rafters.  Cheryl took the lead and Steve found himself admiring the view as Cheryl preceded him up the ladder.  As if sensing his thoughts Cheryl looked back slightly over her shoulder.  "Having fun, Sloan?"

The grin he flashed her way was more than enough of an answer.  "Why, Cheryl I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about," he replied impishly.

As they continued their ascent Steve's phone rang.  He stopped and hooked an arm around the side of the ladder before he answered the phone.  'Sloan here, Hey Jesse how's she doing?"  He grew silent while Jesse updated him on Anthea Monroe's condition.  "Oh, that's too bad.  Is Amanda going to do the autopsy?"  After listening to Jesse's response he continued.  "Ask Amanda to call me when she gets the results, Thanks, Jesse."  Steve flipped his phone shut and continued up the ladder to join his partner.

He found Cheryl squatting next to the light fixture that had held the offending light.  "That was Jesse on the phone.  Anthea Monroe didn't make it.  Have you found anything?"

Cheryl glanced up and shook her head.  "Nothing yet, this area here looks a little odd," she said pointing to the area where the individual lights connected to the fixture.  Steve squatted down beside her and inspected the area as well.

"It's a clean break, it almost looks like someone sawed it," Steve answered.  "I guess we had better get a crime scene unit down here.  Is nothing ever easy anymore?"

"Steve, if it was easy we wouldn't have jobs.  Tell me something, are the prizes that great in this pageant that these women would start killing each other?" Cheryl asked.

"According to Jesse they are, besides it doesn't have to be one of the women it could have been anyone," Steve responded.  He heard a noise behind them and turned to see the top of a grey head appear at the top of the ladder.  "Dad, what on earth are you doing up here?"

The rather sheepish looking face of Mark Sloan appeared.  "I was about ten minutes away when Jesse called and told me what happened so I thought I would come over and see if you needed any help."

Steve moved over to help steady Mark as he stepped up onto the flooring.  "Dad, you shouldn't have climbed up here, we are actually ready to go back down.  We need to call the crime scene unit, this is looking like a homicide."

Mark moved over to the lighting fixture and knelt down.  As was his custom he took note of all details large and small.  "Steve, did you notice this footprint in the dust?"

Steve joined his father and looked at the footprint.  "It's small, probably a woman's.  Let's go back down Dad, and let the crime scene unit check it out."

Mark stood up and the three of them moved to the ladder and descended back to the floor.  Steve placed the call to the crime scene unit and then joined Cheryl and his dad who had begun talking with the judges and contestants.  Content to let Cheryl take the lead, he leaned against the wall and observed the group.  They all looked normal enough but then he had been around long enough to know that you couldn't really tell much by the way someone looked.  He was interrupted in his musings by the arrival of more officers and the crime scene unit.  He moved towards the lead investigator and informed her of the details of the case. 

"Steve," Cheryl called.

Steve moved back to Cheryl.  "What's up?"

"Most of these people can alibi each other.  All of the contestants were together as were the judges.  Of course you know I'm going to need to question you," she informed him with a smirk.

Steve rolled his eyes and stalked back to the group.  He found his father engrossed in a conversation with his teeth clicking friend.  "Dad?"

"Steve, this lady says she was in the bathroom and heard the Monroe woman and another woman arguing over a man.  The other woman was gone by the time she left the stall."

Pulling out his notebook Steve asked, "How do you know it was Anthea Monroe?"

"Because I could see her through the cracks in the stall, the other woman was too far over for me to see," she informed them.

"Was there anything distinctive about the other woman?  Her voice, the smell of her perfume?  Any details about the man they were arguing over?"

She contemplated his question before responding.  "The only thing I remember is the one that I couldn't see referred to the man as her fiancée."

"If you think of anything else please let me know," Steve responded.  "Thank you for your help."  He motioned for his father to join him and he moved towards Cheryl.  "Cheryl, apparently our victim had a disagreement with another woman in the bathroom just before the talent competition began.  Our mystery woman is engaged, so let's see if we can find out how many of these ladies are brides to be."

"You got it, so what happens with the pageant?"  Cheryl inquired.

Mark looked up thoughtfully.  "I would imagine it will go on as planned.  This woman's death is a tragedy, but it doesn't change the fact that the burn unit needs funds."

"Lieutenant Sloan," came a voice from his side.

Steve turned and looked down to find a pair of clear blues eyes staring intently.  "Yes, Ma'am, can I help you?"

"My name is Jordan Maxwell, I'm one of the contestants," she explained coyly.  "Are we going to finish the talent competition today?"

"Ms Maxwell, do you think everyone is up for that with what has happened?"

"Oh, yes we are professionals we can put this behind us.  You know the show must go on."  She reached a small dainty hand towards him and rested it on his arm.  Her eyes grew wide.  "Oh my, someone works out don't they."

Steve heard a snicker behind him but he couldn't tell if it was Cheryl or his father.  "Ms Maxwell, I'm impressed at your ability to put this behind you but this area is a potential crime scene I'm afraid you ladies will have to pick up with the talent competition tomorrow." 

Jordan Maxwell leaned in closely and whispered a comment that brought an immediate bright red flush to Steve's face.  Cheryl leaning in to try and hear the comment lost her balance and began to fall as Steve reached to catch her, he knocked Jordan Maxwell off balance.  Mark had also moved towards Cheryl and was able to catch her and stop her fall.  With his balance off from trying to catch Cheryl, Steve was unable to stop his descent towards the floor.  Jordan Maxwell as well had completely lost her balance and followed Steve towards the floor.  They landed in a heap, Steve on the bottom and Jordan Maxwell facing him and straddling his lap.  "Well I didn't think you would take me up on my offer here in front of everyone," she purred.

Steve jumped as if he had suddenly found himself in scalding water.  His lovely burden was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor.  Steve's vault from the floor was accompanied by the sounds of laughter and catcalls from the officers on the scene.  Oh great more ammunition for the guys at the precinct.

He, as well as the others, were unaware of the green eyes that had watched the entire scene unfold.  That is no way for any fiancée of mine to act and shame on that hussy.  It looks like I have more work to do.