The next day at Steve's precinct he was called into Chief Master's
office.
"Sloan, there's been another child physically murdered. We got lucky
this time. The kid was smart and fought back. She also had long
fingernails. We got a DNA match to a rapist named Jerry Jordan. It
says that he died of a drowning, over five years ago, without ever
being found, so we have no idea where he is," Chief Masters stated in
a monotone voice.
"What was the little girl's name and were was she found?" Steve
questioned Masters while intercepting two folders.
"The little girls name was named Abigail Mitchell. She was found in
an alley in downtown LA." Chief Master showed no emotions while he
stated this fact to Steve.
Steve exited the office of Chief Masters. He went over to his small
desk, which was over crowded paperwork and manila folders. In a small
stack in the middle of his desk was a small stack of folders. On the
first tab, it read Marianne Smith, the second read Joyce Miller, the
third read Abigail Mitchell, and the fourth read Jerry Jordan.
He first looked into the folder with Jerry Jordan's name on it. The
cover page was his mug shots. The man looked very familiar to Steve.
The next page read: 6 feet 2 inches (1.94 meters) and weighed 315
pounds (142.89 Kilograms) had a criminal background in raping women in
the middle of the night and served ten years and was let out for good
behavior. Death caused by drowning in the sea. No body was found.
He turned the page back again and looked at the picture even harder.
He saw that face before. He saw the criminal's blonde hair, blue
eyes, and the scar about the eyes recently, but he couldn't remember
where. Maybe I'll go check out the autopsy reports at Community
General and then see if dad saw this man before, Steve thought.
After filing recent murders and robberies that were solved he left for
Community General Hospital. When he arrived, he automatically took
the elevator down to the pathology lab along with the four folders.
When he walked through the door, Amanda, who was still standing over a
body of a small dead child, greeted him.
"Steve, I'm nearly finished with autopsy report and your dad is in
trauma one with Jesse and probably won't be out for at least an hour
so why don't you just go up to the lounge and wait. Just take a load
off. You got bags under your eyes and look like you could go to sleep
any moment," Amanda said to Steve, while focusing just on his face.
"Okay Amanda I'll be up in the Lounge. I'll be waiting up there for
you," Steve replied to the demand.
"Okay, just get some rest and get out of here," Amanda joked.
He left for the Lounge. When he got there, he was happy to find it
empty. Steve slowly made his way to a chair and sat down. Within
five minutes, he could feel his eyes getting heavier. He tried to
fight the urge to sleep because of the likelihood of having to relive
that horrific moment. In another five minutes, he was out like a
light. He sat with his arms laying on the table and his head right
about his arms. Steve was starting to have his dream.
"Please, Sir, help me!" The little girl shouted while being dangled
upon the rooftop of the Ramada Inn Hotel. Steve just looked at the
young blonde girl who looked like a younger version of her mother, who
was the one holding her off to the side of the roof.
The mother had on a grin. Her eyes had a fiery reflection. Just
looking at this situation made you sick to your stomach. Steve,
trying to look like he calm, was actually very paranoid.
"Please ma'am, just let girl go. We can discuss what's going on and
get you help." Steve said with his voice monotone. He was surprised
that it wasn't shaky.
"GO FUCK OFF!" The woman shouted at Steve. Her hands shaking. She
let go of the young child. The young girl's blonde hair raised
upwards as she fell to the ground. Steve ran to the side of the hotel
and tried to grab her. The mother pushed Steve off as well when he
leaned over the edge. He was lucky unlike the girl and had grabbed a
hold of the edge.
The woman started to exit the rooftop. Steve felt his body pulling
downwards but the gravitational pull. His arms felt like Jell-O. He
looked down and saw microscopic people. He looked upwards and began
to pull. Steve then swung his legs over top of the ledge. He heard
sirens. The walkie-talkie spoke that the suspect was apprehended. He
sat down and cried. The emotions were just flowing through his body.
He suddenly awoke to Amanda shaking him and calling out his name.
"Are you okay?" Amanda asked.
"Yeah, I guess." Steve had sweat pouring off his face. Amanda handed
him the autopsy report.
"Dr. Bentley call on line three. Dr. Bentley call on line three."
The intercom read throughout the hospital. Amanda gave him a pat on
the back and then left.
Steve stood up and walked around the still empty room full of mixed
emotions. He couldn't stand the emotional torture of this case and
that case awhile ago.
Author's note: Sorry about the long wait. I just started school and have had band everyday after school. I also haven't really been in the mood to write but one of my best friends Robbie made me get into a good mood.
office.
"Sloan, there's been another child physically murdered. We got lucky
this time. The kid was smart and fought back. She also had long
fingernails. We got a DNA match to a rapist named Jerry Jordan. It
says that he died of a drowning, over five years ago, without ever
being found, so we have no idea where he is," Chief Masters stated in
a monotone voice.
"What was the little girl's name and were was she found?" Steve
questioned Masters while intercepting two folders.
"The little girls name was named Abigail Mitchell. She was found in
an alley in downtown LA." Chief Master showed no emotions while he
stated this fact to Steve.
Steve exited the office of Chief Masters. He went over to his small
desk, which was over crowded paperwork and manila folders. In a small
stack in the middle of his desk was a small stack of folders. On the
first tab, it read Marianne Smith, the second read Joyce Miller, the
third read Abigail Mitchell, and the fourth read Jerry Jordan.
He first looked into the folder with Jerry Jordan's name on it. The
cover page was his mug shots. The man looked very familiar to Steve.
The next page read: 6 feet 2 inches (1.94 meters) and weighed 315
pounds (142.89 Kilograms) had a criminal background in raping women in
the middle of the night and served ten years and was let out for good
behavior. Death caused by drowning in the sea. No body was found.
He turned the page back again and looked at the picture even harder.
He saw that face before. He saw the criminal's blonde hair, blue
eyes, and the scar about the eyes recently, but he couldn't remember
where. Maybe I'll go check out the autopsy reports at Community
General and then see if dad saw this man before, Steve thought.
After filing recent murders and robberies that were solved he left for
Community General Hospital. When he arrived, he automatically took
the elevator down to the pathology lab along with the four folders.
When he walked through the door, Amanda, who was still standing over a
body of a small dead child, greeted him.
"Steve, I'm nearly finished with autopsy report and your dad is in
trauma one with Jesse and probably won't be out for at least an hour
so why don't you just go up to the lounge and wait. Just take a load
off. You got bags under your eyes and look like you could go to sleep
any moment," Amanda said to Steve, while focusing just on his face.
"Okay Amanda I'll be up in the Lounge. I'll be waiting up there for
you," Steve replied to the demand.
"Okay, just get some rest and get out of here," Amanda joked.
He left for the Lounge. When he got there, he was happy to find it
empty. Steve slowly made his way to a chair and sat down. Within
five minutes, he could feel his eyes getting heavier. He tried to
fight the urge to sleep because of the likelihood of having to relive
that horrific moment. In another five minutes, he was out like a
light. He sat with his arms laying on the table and his head right
about his arms. Steve was starting to have his dream.
"Please, Sir, help me!" The little girl shouted while being dangled
upon the rooftop of the Ramada Inn Hotel. Steve just looked at the
young blonde girl who looked like a younger version of her mother, who
was the one holding her off to the side of the roof.
The mother had on a grin. Her eyes had a fiery reflection. Just
looking at this situation made you sick to your stomach. Steve,
trying to look like he calm, was actually very paranoid.
"Please ma'am, just let girl go. We can discuss what's going on and
get you help." Steve said with his voice monotone. He was surprised
that it wasn't shaky.
"GO FUCK OFF!" The woman shouted at Steve. Her hands shaking. She
let go of the young child. The young girl's blonde hair raised
upwards as she fell to the ground. Steve ran to the side of the hotel
and tried to grab her. The mother pushed Steve off as well when he
leaned over the edge. He was lucky unlike the girl and had grabbed a
hold of the edge.
The woman started to exit the rooftop. Steve felt his body pulling
downwards but the gravitational pull. His arms felt like Jell-O. He
looked down and saw microscopic people. He looked upwards and began
to pull. Steve then swung his legs over top of the ledge. He heard
sirens. The walkie-talkie spoke that the suspect was apprehended. He
sat down and cried. The emotions were just flowing through his body.
He suddenly awoke to Amanda shaking him and calling out his name.
"Are you okay?" Amanda asked.
"Yeah, I guess." Steve had sweat pouring off his face. Amanda handed
him the autopsy report.
"Dr. Bentley call on line three. Dr. Bentley call on line three."
The intercom read throughout the hospital. Amanda gave him a pat on
the back and then left.
Steve stood up and walked around the still empty room full of mixed
emotions. He couldn't stand the emotional torture of this case and
that case awhile ago.
Author's note: Sorry about the long wait. I just started school and have had band everyday after school. I also haven't really been in the mood to write but one of my best friends Robbie made me get into a good mood.