Author's note: This chapter is dedicated to Nonny, she'll know why. Hope
you are all still enjoying this.
Part 13 Revelations
Steve returned to consciousness with a start, his heart rate spiking as a deep sense of foreboding gripped his awakening system. He opened his eyes and it took a moment for the fuzzy forms to gel into sharp edges. He calmed a little as he recognised the familiar sight of the hospital room. Whatever had happened he appeared to be safe in the hospital, but there was definitely something wrong, something other than the fact that he had obviously been hurt again.
He moved cautiously, trying to assess where the problem was by gently shifting each part of his body. He was unfortunately well practiced at this part and knew from past experience the inadvisability of sharp movements. Even so, the pain that shot out in sharp spikes as he shifted his right shoulder took his breath away. He remained perfectly still as the waves ebbed and settled to a dull throbbing. As his mind cleared, a mixture of memories and conclusions took shape. The thump in the shoulder, the pool of blood, the difficulty in breathing, all pointed to him being stabbed, almost exactly as Jesse had written it. Thankfully the cliffhanger seemed to have had a good outcome at least from his point of view. He had been found in time, had been treated, would recover, so why did he still have a creeping fear inside, unsettling him. What else had happened?
His train of thought was interrupted as first a nurse arrived and then Dr. Taylor.
"Hey Steve, good to see you awake. How are you feeling? How's the pain?" Bill Taylor asked, the concern clearly more than just a professional enquiry about his patient. Bill knew Steve well, he had been a friend of Mark's for a long time, and had a close working relationship with Jesse, so their paths crossed regularly, even without Steve's own frequent acquaintance with the working end of the ER.
"Bad," Steve admitted quietly, his shoulder still throbbing from the recent movement.
"OK, I'll get you something for that," Bill said, turning to the nurse and giving her instructions, he paused to write on Steve's chart, as the nurse prepared and administered the injection into his IV.
"So, do you remember what happened?" He asked, waiting for the pain killer to take effect before continuing his exam.
"I was," Steve hesitated slightly not entirely sure of his ground, he'd been cut with a knife before and it had always hurt instantly, but this had been different, more of a dull thump than a sharp pain, Still, it hurt enough now, it had to have been a knife. ". . .stabbed," he completed, "in the parking lot?"
Bill nodded in response to the slight questioning tone. "You were lucky, the knife only nicked your lung, an inch lower and I doubt we would have found you in time. As it was you lost a lot of blood."
Steve swallowed hearing the mixture of concern and relief in the tone, knowing that he was being told that he was lucky to have survived. It made him contemplate for a moment the fact that he nearly hadn't, a cold trickle running down his spine as his latest brush with death registered in his consciousness, being hurt was one thing, nearly losing his life was quite another. With the acknowledgement the unlabelled fear grew stronger, but he was still not sure what was bothering him.
He concentrated on his memory, remembering how careless he had been before the attack. After all, Jesse had given him every detail of it, and yet, he had walked through the lot oblivious of what was going on around him. That carelessness had almost cost him his life. The sharp memory of lying bleeding, unable to move returned. It took him a moment to realise that Bill had asked another question.
"Do you remember anything after you were hit?"
Steve shook his head. "Not much," there was a slight pause. "Who found me?"
Something unreadable flickered across Bill Taylor's expression. He moved forward. "That painkiller should have taken effect by now, I need to check your wound."
Steve recognised the delaying tactic and tried to fathom the reason for it, but he was hampered by the need to move and the still mind blanking pain that accompanied that action. He endured the necessary checks as patiently as he could, listening to Bill describe his condition and what they had done in more detail as he worked, waiting until he was settled back on the pillows before trying the question again.
"So who found me?" Steve asked again, trying to keep control of his emotions, but now that Bill Taylor had tacitly confirmed by his evasion that there was something else wrong, the nagging fear was still growing.
"Dr. Travis treated you, saved your life," Bill offered, "He should be here in a minute."
Steve cursed himself, damn that was all Jesse had needed, to find him near death, to be forced to save his life whilst no doubt holding himself responsible for what had happened. He looked back up at Bill who was avoiding eye contact, and remembered the evasion. "So what is it that you don't want to tell me?"
"Steve?"
Jesse's voice from the doorway distracted Steve and he did his best to turn to look at his friend without lifting his head from the raised pillows, he didn't quite make it until Jesse made it a little further into the room, accompanied by Nathan and Amanda.
"Hey Steve how're you feeling?" Jesse asked, a genuine smile touching his concerned features, relieved to see Steve conscious and alert.
"OK as long as I don't move," Steve replied, giving a slight nod of greeting to Nathan and Amanda before turning his attention back to Jesse. He tried to assess his friend's condition, noting the lack of animation in his movement and the shadows under his eyes that still spoke of emotional turmoil.
"Bill?" Jesse asked his colleague, needing the reassurance of medical opinion, Steve was known for saying he felt fine whatever his condition, from concussion to gunshot wounds.
"Fine, see for yourself." Bill handed Steve's chart over for Jesse to check.
Steve looked past Jesse expectantly, "My dad not with you?" He asked. He had been mildly surprised not to find his father sitting by his bed waiting for him to come round, but, from what Dr. Taylor had told him, his condition had been stable since the previous evening and given everything else that was going on, coupled with his father's ever present desire to help with investigations even when it didn't involve his own, it had not occurred to him that his absence was anything to worry about, until now.
He noticed the brief eye contact between Bill and Jesse and suddenly his father's absence from the room worried him a great deal, for some reason it connected with the strong fear he already felt and his gut twisted, as a lump rose in his throat.
There was no immediate answer and Steve's eyes flicked around the group, his agitation increasing as he saw uncertainty and concern on the faces of his friends. He fixed his gaze back on Jesse. "Has something happened to him? Is he alright?" His heart was beginning to pound rapidly and he could hear the rush of blood past his ears.
Jesse moved forward and rested his hand on his friend's shoulder, partly to stop him from trying to move and partly to provide reassurance. He knew he had to handle this carefully, but he also knew that they had to tell Steve the truth. There was no reason that they could invent that would explain Mark's absence from his son's bedside that would work for more than a few hours, and, delaying telling him that his father was missing for those few hours, would gain them very little, especially since there was a strong chance that Steve had witnessed his father's abduction and may remember it at any time. So they had agreed in advance that they would have to tell him, and Jesse had insisted that he be the one to do it. Since he held himself responsible for what had happened to both of them he felt that it was the least that he could do.
Bill Taylor had reluctantly agreed and had a sedative standing by although he hoped it would not be necessary, he also couldn't help musing on which of his patients may need it.
"Calm down Steve, we have every reason to believe that he's OK." Jesse said with his most reassuring tone.
Steve looked at him processing the words carefully, trying his best to quell the almost overwhelming emotions, so that he could find out exactly what was wrong. "But you don't know?" He asked. How could they not know?
"The truth is. . ." Jesse said looking down at the blanket, he paused before taking a deep breath and looking Steve in the eye. "The truth is nobody knows, no one has seen him since yesterday when he found you in the parking lot. The police officer who was with him went to get help and left him with you, by the time we got to you, you were alone. He's been missing ever since."
Steve felt like the approaching hurricane that had been building ever since he woke had just hit him. A mind numbing body blow that seemed to momentarily shut down everything, even his ability to breathe. His eyes were no longer focussed on the room, his brain unable to process anything but the single word, 'missing.'
Jesse watched his friend expecting some sort of reaction to the news, instead the complete lack of reaction scared him, he looked up and exchanged worried glances with Amanda and Bill, and then he looked back at Steve, giving him another moment before prompting. "Steve?"
Steve was lost in snatches of returning memory, the warmth of his father's reassuring words, his gentle touch penetrating through the pain, the voices followed by whispered words, he had to leave. Why did he have to leave? Steve didn't want him to go, he needed him, why would he leave?
Steve heard Jesse calling his name as though it was at a distance, his senses suddenly snapping back to the hospital room, cold concrete replaced by soft cotton sheets. He looked up tears of remembered pain filling his eyes. "He left me," he said so softly it was almost whispered.
"Steve, do you remember what happened?" Nathan asked, hopeful for some sort of lead, but for the moment Steve's rational thought processes were stalled by the strength of remembered emotion. Lying near death, that one thought had been his entire world and now it took over again.
He turned to look at Nathan. "He left me," he repeated, somehow unable to process beyond that, and then his rational mind reconnected with the memories, and the maelstrom of thoughts tumbled over each other like white water over rocks. He looked up sharply. "He would never leave me injured, not unless he didn't have a choice, not unless he was forced. Oh God!" the exclamation left his lips as the true horror of the situation hit him. The other voice he had heard had been his attacker, the killer, and he had taken his father, had forced him to leave under who knew what duress. He looked up at each of the other's in turn. "The killer took him," he said almost painfully slowly, hoping against hope that something in the expressions of those around him would refute his conclusion. They didn't, instead they mirrored his own anxiety and fear.
Every instinct Steve had told him that he had to do something. He had to find his father. He began to push himself up off the pillow. Gentle but firm hands moved to either side to hold him back, not that they were really necessary. Steve was shocked at his own weakness as his normally responsive muscles refused to obey, pain once more wiping thought as he gasped and dropped back onto the pillows.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Amanda asked softly.
"Have. . . to find him," Steve said, wincing as he adjusted his position.
"Steve," Nathan moved forward slightly, "We've got everyone in the department on this, not to mention half the hospital staff," he paused momentarily before adding with conviction. "We will find him."
Steve nodded, he did not doubt his colleagues' determination but it did not diminish his own need to do something other than lie there in bed whilst his father's life was in danger.
He ignored the deeper horror that lay in the uncertainty. The fact that his father may already be dead, was not something that he could contemplate, besides if the killer had wanted to kill him, why not just do it there in the parking lot? Why take him away? He grasped at the straw of comfort that that rationalisation gave him
"But I need. . ." Steve tried hard to articulate what it was that he needed to do that other people could not, but he wasn't sure, he just felt the overwhelming need to do something. He realised, however, that the frailty of his own body would betray him again. He had only felt this impotent once before, forced to lie in a bed whilst his father was accused of, tried for and convicted of murder. Recovering from near life threatening injuries, it had been almost impossibly hard to rest, even though all he would accomplish by trying to move around would be further harm to himself. He had never wanted to feel that helpless again. He lifted his left hand to rub tired eyes. "I can't just lie here," he said, his tone a cross between pleading and defeat.
"No," Nathan said, " not just lie there, you can help us. Yesterday when you were leaving, you were heading to the station to check something out, do you remember what it was?"
Steve turned to look at him, it was a moment before he responded as he focussed his mind on less painful memories.
"You said something about it not being a case I had helped on," Jesse prompted putting the emphasis on the word 'helped' as Steve had done the day before.
Steve turned to look at Jesse before responding. "Yes, it occurred to me that there was at least one person from your past as crazy as this killer. It wasn't a case you helped on, it wouldn't even come up in a search of my cases. It was a case you were," he paused choosing his next word carefully. " 'involved' in." He knew he was about to drag up painful memories for his friend, possibly without reason, but the choice that he'd had the day before had been taken from him. "I was going to check on the whereabouts of Chloe Marsden." He watched Jesse carefully, expecting some sort of reaction to the name but there was none, at least none visible.
If her name had been brought up under other circumstances then Jesse wold almost certainly have reacted. She had been part of one of the worst experiences of his adult life, another man had died by his hand and even though he knew that it was an accident, that he was not responsible for what had happened, he still woke up on occasion in a cold sweat having had a nightmare about it. Still remembered the feel of the sword as it cut into her ex-boyfriend's body, still felt the guilt and pain of taking the life of another when he had sworn to do the opposite, still felt the fear that had accompanied the knowledge that she had first set him up to take the rap for murder, and then had planned his own death, again manipulating another into doing it for her.
Given everything that had happened, however, he just couldn't seem to react. It was as though his emotions had been numbed, they had reached their overload point and there was nothing left. Besides, it seemed to make a perverse kind of sense that she was responsible for this. She had certainly been crazy enough, the case had never made it to trial, instead Chloe Marsden had been sent to a secure institution. If she had somehow got out. . .
"Jess?"
Jesse pulled himself back from his musings and focussed his gaze back on Steve. "She was certainly insane enough."
"I'll get it checked out straight away," Nathan said, pulling out his cell phone.
Despite himself, Steve yawned. The adrenaline spike that had accompanied the revelation of his father's abduction, was dissipating, leaving in it's wake a crushing weariness. He knew that however hard he tried he would not be able to fight it. He almost smiled at the instant reaction of the three doctor's in the room, knowing what was coming next, just wondering which one of them was going to say it.
"You need to try to get some rest." Bill Taylor moved toward the bed. "I'll be back to check on you soon."
"I'll keep you informed and let you know the instant we find anything." Nathan said, moving for the door.
Jesse echoed both sentiments as did Amanda.
"Yes, you get some sleep."
"We'll do everything we can."
"Thanks," Steve managed to mutter, even as the combination of exhaustion and drugs in his system conspired to drag him back under.
--
Jesse and Amanda went back to looking through the files of hospital employees. They were both busy reading in Mark's office when Nathan joined them. He exchanged greetings before sitting down.
"You guys come up with anything?" He asked.
They both shook their heads. "Nothing so far, we've been through them all once, we're just doing a second run through, see if we missed anything." Jesse replied dejectedly. "I've checked all of the photographs, Chloe Marsden is definitely not amongst them, that's a face I'd never forget."
"She wouldn't be," Nathan, shifted in his seat. "That's one of the things that I came to tell you, she died just over six months ago."
"Oh," there was a slight pause before Jesse continued, even after all she had done to him the news of her death was upsetting, when he had first met her he had tried to help her, he hadn't realised at the time that she was beyond his help. A part of him felt sorrow for her loss. "How did it happen?"
"Some sort of overdose," Nathan supplied, "They're faxing through the report now."
"Another dead end then," Amanda stated.
"Not quite, she spent her last days in the Broadbent institute."
Jesse recognised the name instantly. "The same institute that Paul Bilson, the porter, worked in before he came to work here. . ."
"About six months ago," Nathan completed for him, "and Paul Bilson was in the army for a while. He specialised in ordnance and demolitions."
"So he could easily have made and set the bombs." Jesse said becoming more animated, at last they had a genuine lead.
"Yes," Nathan nodded. "I spoke to his commanding officer, he said he worked on remote detonations, using whatever was available in the field, such as gas pipes."
"Like at the Diner," Jesse said.
"Exactly, and the anaesthetic cylinder in the OR." Nathan replied. "It took me a while but his CO admitted that it was exactly what he had been trained for."
"But that doesn't help with who attacked me," Amanda said. "It was definitely a woman, whoever it was was around my height and build, that definitely does not fit Bilson."
"Maybe so, but it does look like he's in this up to his neck, at the very least as an accomplice." Nathan looked at Jesse.
"But what would be his motive?" Jesse asked, not questioning his involvement, there were too many coincidences for him not to be involved, but trying to fathom the reason. "Something to do with Chloe's death?"
"I don't know but I intend to ask him." Nathan replied, his tone taking a hard edge. "I'm also hoping he'll be able to give us some information as to Mark's whereabouts. I'm heading out to his place now to pick him up. I just wanted to fill you in before I left."
"I'd like to go with you." Jesse said.
Nathan stared at him for a moment, not surprised by the request and recognising the young doctor's need to be involved in stopping what was happening to him. It was against procedure to take civilians with him, on the other hand, Jesse was no stranger to helping out with investigations. He nodded. "You can come but you have to promise to stay in the car until after we have made the arrest." It was a compromise and the best he could offer.
Jesse nodded, grateful for the chance to do something.
--
Amanda sat at Steve's bedside. She had come down to sit with him after Jesse had left with Nathan. After last night's attack she did not want to be on her own, particularly not in Mark's office, and even in his injured state, Steve's presence offered a strength and a comfort to her that she could not explain. It was as though his strength of spirit alone could protect her.
She sat and absently adjusted the scarf about her neck, not realising that Steve was awake until he spoke softly.
"What happened to your neck?" He asked.
She looked up and met his crystal blue eyes, which were thankfully clearer and less pained than they had been earlier. She quickly replaced the scarf over the bruising. "It's nothing," she began, but realised that Steve would not accept that. "I was attacked in your dad's office when I went to get some files," she admitted.
Steve cursed softly.
"Fortunately, the killer posted the next chapter, alerting Nathan to the fact that one of the female doctors would be attacked. He came looking for me and interrupted the killer before she could finish what she started, but she got away."
"She?" Steve questioned, "So my theory about Chloe Marsden. . ."
"No, I'm afraid it's not her," Amanda interrupted and filled him in on Nathan's findings.
Steve listened quietly until she had finished before asking the question that he needed to ask but already knew the answer to. If Amanda had any news about his father it would have been the first thing she would have told him. "My dad is there. . ? Are there any clues as to where he may be?"
Amanda shook her head, "No, I'm sorry Steve nothing yet."
Steve sighed and lay back on the pillow, trying to keep the wash of negative emotions at bay. The only useful thing he could do at the moment was think, and for that he needed a clear head. Still, the near despondency and despair shrouded him like an extra blanket.
He considered carefully the new information, suddenly drawing in extra air as an idea connected. Amanda heard the sharp intake of breath and looked across concerned. He was once again staring back at her. "You say the latest chapter detailed the attack on you."
"Yes."
"Is there anything in there about a doctor being kidnapped?" Steve's animation was growing.
"No."
"I need to see the last couple of chapters," he said
Amanda started looking through the pile of papers next to her, pulling out the appropriate printouts. "Have you got something?"
"I think so," Steve said, fired with a new energy and determination. "I think I've got an idea where my dad is."
--
Nathan's car pulled up behind the black and whites, the uniformed officers were already exiting their vehicles ready to take up positions. They had parked down the block from the building in the hope of taking their quarry by surprise.
Nathan turned to Jesse. "You stay in the car, I'll come and get you once we've made the arrest."
Jesse nodded and shifted to a more comfortable position where he could keep an eye on what was happening. He watched as Nathan got out and approached the uniformed officers giving them instructions. His mind absently drifting back through everything that had happened in the last couple of days. He was grateful that they finally had a break, the killer had been one step ahead of them at every stage, even down to the staged attack on him the previous day.
A mixture of intuition and logic began to guide his thoughts. The attack on him had been a stupid risk, as was Bilson's lie, it only drew attention to him and made it more likely that they would check his background. Everything else about this had been carefully planned. Why make such a stupid blunder unless you wanted the police to know who you were, wanted them to. . .
Before the final though had connected, Jesse had undone his seatbelt and was out of the car running towards the house and calling out to Nathan, every instinct in him screaming that he had to stop them.
Nathan and the two uniformed officers were almost at the door of the apartments when he heard Jesse's shout, he had sent the other officers to cover the back. Nathan cursed, he turned to the officers. "Go in without me," he said, knowing that Jesse's shouts had probably lost them the element of surprise. He would have to get the young doctor back to the safety of the car before he could return and that would involve too long a delay if the others were to wait for him. The officers nodded and continued forward, as Nathan turned to walk back towards the young doctor who was running towards him.
"Nathan, no it's a trap," Jesse shouted, as the bottom floor of the apartment block mushroomed out in a cacophony of noise and bright orange flame.
Part 13 Revelations
Steve returned to consciousness with a start, his heart rate spiking as a deep sense of foreboding gripped his awakening system. He opened his eyes and it took a moment for the fuzzy forms to gel into sharp edges. He calmed a little as he recognised the familiar sight of the hospital room. Whatever had happened he appeared to be safe in the hospital, but there was definitely something wrong, something other than the fact that he had obviously been hurt again.
He moved cautiously, trying to assess where the problem was by gently shifting each part of his body. He was unfortunately well practiced at this part and knew from past experience the inadvisability of sharp movements. Even so, the pain that shot out in sharp spikes as he shifted his right shoulder took his breath away. He remained perfectly still as the waves ebbed and settled to a dull throbbing. As his mind cleared, a mixture of memories and conclusions took shape. The thump in the shoulder, the pool of blood, the difficulty in breathing, all pointed to him being stabbed, almost exactly as Jesse had written it. Thankfully the cliffhanger seemed to have had a good outcome at least from his point of view. He had been found in time, had been treated, would recover, so why did he still have a creeping fear inside, unsettling him. What else had happened?
His train of thought was interrupted as first a nurse arrived and then Dr. Taylor.
"Hey Steve, good to see you awake. How are you feeling? How's the pain?" Bill Taylor asked, the concern clearly more than just a professional enquiry about his patient. Bill knew Steve well, he had been a friend of Mark's for a long time, and had a close working relationship with Jesse, so their paths crossed regularly, even without Steve's own frequent acquaintance with the working end of the ER.
"Bad," Steve admitted quietly, his shoulder still throbbing from the recent movement.
"OK, I'll get you something for that," Bill said, turning to the nurse and giving her instructions, he paused to write on Steve's chart, as the nurse prepared and administered the injection into his IV.
"So, do you remember what happened?" He asked, waiting for the pain killer to take effect before continuing his exam.
"I was," Steve hesitated slightly not entirely sure of his ground, he'd been cut with a knife before and it had always hurt instantly, but this had been different, more of a dull thump than a sharp pain, Still, it hurt enough now, it had to have been a knife. ". . .stabbed," he completed, "in the parking lot?"
Bill nodded in response to the slight questioning tone. "You were lucky, the knife only nicked your lung, an inch lower and I doubt we would have found you in time. As it was you lost a lot of blood."
Steve swallowed hearing the mixture of concern and relief in the tone, knowing that he was being told that he was lucky to have survived. It made him contemplate for a moment the fact that he nearly hadn't, a cold trickle running down his spine as his latest brush with death registered in his consciousness, being hurt was one thing, nearly losing his life was quite another. With the acknowledgement the unlabelled fear grew stronger, but he was still not sure what was bothering him.
He concentrated on his memory, remembering how careless he had been before the attack. After all, Jesse had given him every detail of it, and yet, he had walked through the lot oblivious of what was going on around him. That carelessness had almost cost him his life. The sharp memory of lying bleeding, unable to move returned. It took him a moment to realise that Bill had asked another question.
"Do you remember anything after you were hit?"
Steve shook his head. "Not much," there was a slight pause. "Who found me?"
Something unreadable flickered across Bill Taylor's expression. He moved forward. "That painkiller should have taken effect by now, I need to check your wound."
Steve recognised the delaying tactic and tried to fathom the reason for it, but he was hampered by the need to move and the still mind blanking pain that accompanied that action. He endured the necessary checks as patiently as he could, listening to Bill describe his condition and what they had done in more detail as he worked, waiting until he was settled back on the pillows before trying the question again.
"So who found me?" Steve asked again, trying to keep control of his emotions, but now that Bill Taylor had tacitly confirmed by his evasion that there was something else wrong, the nagging fear was still growing.
"Dr. Travis treated you, saved your life," Bill offered, "He should be here in a minute."
Steve cursed himself, damn that was all Jesse had needed, to find him near death, to be forced to save his life whilst no doubt holding himself responsible for what had happened. He looked back up at Bill who was avoiding eye contact, and remembered the evasion. "So what is it that you don't want to tell me?"
"Steve?"
Jesse's voice from the doorway distracted Steve and he did his best to turn to look at his friend without lifting his head from the raised pillows, he didn't quite make it until Jesse made it a little further into the room, accompanied by Nathan and Amanda.
"Hey Steve how're you feeling?" Jesse asked, a genuine smile touching his concerned features, relieved to see Steve conscious and alert.
"OK as long as I don't move," Steve replied, giving a slight nod of greeting to Nathan and Amanda before turning his attention back to Jesse. He tried to assess his friend's condition, noting the lack of animation in his movement and the shadows under his eyes that still spoke of emotional turmoil.
"Bill?" Jesse asked his colleague, needing the reassurance of medical opinion, Steve was known for saying he felt fine whatever his condition, from concussion to gunshot wounds.
"Fine, see for yourself." Bill handed Steve's chart over for Jesse to check.
Steve looked past Jesse expectantly, "My dad not with you?" He asked. He had been mildly surprised not to find his father sitting by his bed waiting for him to come round, but, from what Dr. Taylor had told him, his condition had been stable since the previous evening and given everything else that was going on, coupled with his father's ever present desire to help with investigations even when it didn't involve his own, it had not occurred to him that his absence was anything to worry about, until now.
He noticed the brief eye contact between Bill and Jesse and suddenly his father's absence from the room worried him a great deal, for some reason it connected with the strong fear he already felt and his gut twisted, as a lump rose in his throat.
There was no immediate answer and Steve's eyes flicked around the group, his agitation increasing as he saw uncertainty and concern on the faces of his friends. He fixed his gaze back on Jesse. "Has something happened to him? Is he alright?" His heart was beginning to pound rapidly and he could hear the rush of blood past his ears.
Jesse moved forward and rested his hand on his friend's shoulder, partly to stop him from trying to move and partly to provide reassurance. He knew he had to handle this carefully, but he also knew that they had to tell Steve the truth. There was no reason that they could invent that would explain Mark's absence from his son's bedside that would work for more than a few hours, and, delaying telling him that his father was missing for those few hours, would gain them very little, especially since there was a strong chance that Steve had witnessed his father's abduction and may remember it at any time. So they had agreed in advance that they would have to tell him, and Jesse had insisted that he be the one to do it. Since he held himself responsible for what had happened to both of them he felt that it was the least that he could do.
Bill Taylor had reluctantly agreed and had a sedative standing by although he hoped it would not be necessary, he also couldn't help musing on which of his patients may need it.
"Calm down Steve, we have every reason to believe that he's OK." Jesse said with his most reassuring tone.
Steve looked at him processing the words carefully, trying his best to quell the almost overwhelming emotions, so that he could find out exactly what was wrong. "But you don't know?" He asked. How could they not know?
"The truth is. . ." Jesse said looking down at the blanket, he paused before taking a deep breath and looking Steve in the eye. "The truth is nobody knows, no one has seen him since yesterday when he found you in the parking lot. The police officer who was with him went to get help and left him with you, by the time we got to you, you were alone. He's been missing ever since."
Steve felt like the approaching hurricane that had been building ever since he woke had just hit him. A mind numbing body blow that seemed to momentarily shut down everything, even his ability to breathe. His eyes were no longer focussed on the room, his brain unable to process anything but the single word, 'missing.'
Jesse watched his friend expecting some sort of reaction to the news, instead the complete lack of reaction scared him, he looked up and exchanged worried glances with Amanda and Bill, and then he looked back at Steve, giving him another moment before prompting. "Steve?"
Steve was lost in snatches of returning memory, the warmth of his father's reassuring words, his gentle touch penetrating through the pain, the voices followed by whispered words, he had to leave. Why did he have to leave? Steve didn't want him to go, he needed him, why would he leave?
Steve heard Jesse calling his name as though it was at a distance, his senses suddenly snapping back to the hospital room, cold concrete replaced by soft cotton sheets. He looked up tears of remembered pain filling his eyes. "He left me," he said so softly it was almost whispered.
"Steve, do you remember what happened?" Nathan asked, hopeful for some sort of lead, but for the moment Steve's rational thought processes were stalled by the strength of remembered emotion. Lying near death, that one thought had been his entire world and now it took over again.
He turned to look at Nathan. "He left me," he repeated, somehow unable to process beyond that, and then his rational mind reconnected with the memories, and the maelstrom of thoughts tumbled over each other like white water over rocks. He looked up sharply. "He would never leave me injured, not unless he didn't have a choice, not unless he was forced. Oh God!" the exclamation left his lips as the true horror of the situation hit him. The other voice he had heard had been his attacker, the killer, and he had taken his father, had forced him to leave under who knew what duress. He looked up at each of the other's in turn. "The killer took him," he said almost painfully slowly, hoping against hope that something in the expressions of those around him would refute his conclusion. They didn't, instead they mirrored his own anxiety and fear.
Every instinct Steve had told him that he had to do something. He had to find his father. He began to push himself up off the pillow. Gentle but firm hands moved to either side to hold him back, not that they were really necessary. Steve was shocked at his own weakness as his normally responsive muscles refused to obey, pain once more wiping thought as he gasped and dropped back onto the pillows.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Amanda asked softly.
"Have. . . to find him," Steve said, wincing as he adjusted his position.
"Steve," Nathan moved forward slightly, "We've got everyone in the department on this, not to mention half the hospital staff," he paused momentarily before adding with conviction. "We will find him."
Steve nodded, he did not doubt his colleagues' determination but it did not diminish his own need to do something other than lie there in bed whilst his father's life was in danger.
He ignored the deeper horror that lay in the uncertainty. The fact that his father may already be dead, was not something that he could contemplate, besides if the killer had wanted to kill him, why not just do it there in the parking lot? Why take him away? He grasped at the straw of comfort that that rationalisation gave him
"But I need. . ." Steve tried hard to articulate what it was that he needed to do that other people could not, but he wasn't sure, he just felt the overwhelming need to do something. He realised, however, that the frailty of his own body would betray him again. He had only felt this impotent once before, forced to lie in a bed whilst his father was accused of, tried for and convicted of murder. Recovering from near life threatening injuries, it had been almost impossibly hard to rest, even though all he would accomplish by trying to move around would be further harm to himself. He had never wanted to feel that helpless again. He lifted his left hand to rub tired eyes. "I can't just lie here," he said, his tone a cross between pleading and defeat.
"No," Nathan said, " not just lie there, you can help us. Yesterday when you were leaving, you were heading to the station to check something out, do you remember what it was?"
Steve turned to look at him, it was a moment before he responded as he focussed his mind on less painful memories.
"You said something about it not being a case I had helped on," Jesse prompted putting the emphasis on the word 'helped' as Steve had done the day before.
Steve turned to look at Jesse before responding. "Yes, it occurred to me that there was at least one person from your past as crazy as this killer. It wasn't a case you helped on, it wouldn't even come up in a search of my cases. It was a case you were," he paused choosing his next word carefully. " 'involved' in." He knew he was about to drag up painful memories for his friend, possibly without reason, but the choice that he'd had the day before had been taken from him. "I was going to check on the whereabouts of Chloe Marsden." He watched Jesse carefully, expecting some sort of reaction to the name but there was none, at least none visible.
If her name had been brought up under other circumstances then Jesse wold almost certainly have reacted. She had been part of one of the worst experiences of his adult life, another man had died by his hand and even though he knew that it was an accident, that he was not responsible for what had happened, he still woke up on occasion in a cold sweat having had a nightmare about it. Still remembered the feel of the sword as it cut into her ex-boyfriend's body, still felt the guilt and pain of taking the life of another when he had sworn to do the opposite, still felt the fear that had accompanied the knowledge that she had first set him up to take the rap for murder, and then had planned his own death, again manipulating another into doing it for her.
Given everything that had happened, however, he just couldn't seem to react. It was as though his emotions had been numbed, they had reached their overload point and there was nothing left. Besides, it seemed to make a perverse kind of sense that she was responsible for this. She had certainly been crazy enough, the case had never made it to trial, instead Chloe Marsden had been sent to a secure institution. If she had somehow got out. . .
"Jess?"
Jesse pulled himself back from his musings and focussed his gaze back on Steve. "She was certainly insane enough."
"I'll get it checked out straight away," Nathan said, pulling out his cell phone.
Despite himself, Steve yawned. The adrenaline spike that had accompanied the revelation of his father's abduction, was dissipating, leaving in it's wake a crushing weariness. He knew that however hard he tried he would not be able to fight it. He almost smiled at the instant reaction of the three doctor's in the room, knowing what was coming next, just wondering which one of them was going to say it.
"You need to try to get some rest." Bill Taylor moved toward the bed. "I'll be back to check on you soon."
"I'll keep you informed and let you know the instant we find anything." Nathan said, moving for the door.
Jesse echoed both sentiments as did Amanda.
"Yes, you get some sleep."
"We'll do everything we can."
"Thanks," Steve managed to mutter, even as the combination of exhaustion and drugs in his system conspired to drag him back under.
--
Jesse and Amanda went back to looking through the files of hospital employees. They were both busy reading in Mark's office when Nathan joined them. He exchanged greetings before sitting down.
"You guys come up with anything?" He asked.
They both shook their heads. "Nothing so far, we've been through them all once, we're just doing a second run through, see if we missed anything." Jesse replied dejectedly. "I've checked all of the photographs, Chloe Marsden is definitely not amongst them, that's a face I'd never forget."
"She wouldn't be," Nathan, shifted in his seat. "That's one of the things that I came to tell you, she died just over six months ago."
"Oh," there was a slight pause before Jesse continued, even after all she had done to him the news of her death was upsetting, when he had first met her he had tried to help her, he hadn't realised at the time that she was beyond his help. A part of him felt sorrow for her loss. "How did it happen?"
"Some sort of overdose," Nathan supplied, "They're faxing through the report now."
"Another dead end then," Amanda stated.
"Not quite, she spent her last days in the Broadbent institute."
Jesse recognised the name instantly. "The same institute that Paul Bilson, the porter, worked in before he came to work here. . ."
"About six months ago," Nathan completed for him, "and Paul Bilson was in the army for a while. He specialised in ordnance and demolitions."
"So he could easily have made and set the bombs." Jesse said becoming more animated, at last they had a genuine lead.
"Yes," Nathan nodded. "I spoke to his commanding officer, he said he worked on remote detonations, using whatever was available in the field, such as gas pipes."
"Like at the Diner," Jesse said.
"Exactly, and the anaesthetic cylinder in the OR." Nathan replied. "It took me a while but his CO admitted that it was exactly what he had been trained for."
"But that doesn't help with who attacked me," Amanda said. "It was definitely a woman, whoever it was was around my height and build, that definitely does not fit Bilson."
"Maybe so, but it does look like he's in this up to his neck, at the very least as an accomplice." Nathan looked at Jesse.
"But what would be his motive?" Jesse asked, not questioning his involvement, there were too many coincidences for him not to be involved, but trying to fathom the reason. "Something to do with Chloe's death?"
"I don't know but I intend to ask him." Nathan replied, his tone taking a hard edge. "I'm also hoping he'll be able to give us some information as to Mark's whereabouts. I'm heading out to his place now to pick him up. I just wanted to fill you in before I left."
"I'd like to go with you." Jesse said.
Nathan stared at him for a moment, not surprised by the request and recognising the young doctor's need to be involved in stopping what was happening to him. It was against procedure to take civilians with him, on the other hand, Jesse was no stranger to helping out with investigations. He nodded. "You can come but you have to promise to stay in the car until after we have made the arrest." It was a compromise and the best he could offer.
Jesse nodded, grateful for the chance to do something.
--
Amanda sat at Steve's bedside. She had come down to sit with him after Jesse had left with Nathan. After last night's attack she did not want to be on her own, particularly not in Mark's office, and even in his injured state, Steve's presence offered a strength and a comfort to her that she could not explain. It was as though his strength of spirit alone could protect her.
She sat and absently adjusted the scarf about her neck, not realising that Steve was awake until he spoke softly.
"What happened to your neck?" He asked.
She looked up and met his crystal blue eyes, which were thankfully clearer and less pained than they had been earlier. She quickly replaced the scarf over the bruising. "It's nothing," she began, but realised that Steve would not accept that. "I was attacked in your dad's office when I went to get some files," she admitted.
Steve cursed softly.
"Fortunately, the killer posted the next chapter, alerting Nathan to the fact that one of the female doctors would be attacked. He came looking for me and interrupted the killer before she could finish what she started, but she got away."
"She?" Steve questioned, "So my theory about Chloe Marsden. . ."
"No, I'm afraid it's not her," Amanda interrupted and filled him in on Nathan's findings.
Steve listened quietly until she had finished before asking the question that he needed to ask but already knew the answer to. If Amanda had any news about his father it would have been the first thing she would have told him. "My dad is there. . ? Are there any clues as to where he may be?"
Amanda shook her head, "No, I'm sorry Steve nothing yet."
Steve sighed and lay back on the pillow, trying to keep the wash of negative emotions at bay. The only useful thing he could do at the moment was think, and for that he needed a clear head. Still, the near despondency and despair shrouded him like an extra blanket.
He considered carefully the new information, suddenly drawing in extra air as an idea connected. Amanda heard the sharp intake of breath and looked across concerned. He was once again staring back at her. "You say the latest chapter detailed the attack on you."
"Yes."
"Is there anything in there about a doctor being kidnapped?" Steve's animation was growing.
"No."
"I need to see the last couple of chapters," he said
Amanda started looking through the pile of papers next to her, pulling out the appropriate printouts. "Have you got something?"
"I think so," Steve said, fired with a new energy and determination. "I think I've got an idea where my dad is."
--
Nathan's car pulled up behind the black and whites, the uniformed officers were already exiting their vehicles ready to take up positions. They had parked down the block from the building in the hope of taking their quarry by surprise.
Nathan turned to Jesse. "You stay in the car, I'll come and get you once we've made the arrest."
Jesse nodded and shifted to a more comfortable position where he could keep an eye on what was happening. He watched as Nathan got out and approached the uniformed officers giving them instructions. His mind absently drifting back through everything that had happened in the last couple of days. He was grateful that they finally had a break, the killer had been one step ahead of them at every stage, even down to the staged attack on him the previous day.
A mixture of intuition and logic began to guide his thoughts. The attack on him had been a stupid risk, as was Bilson's lie, it only drew attention to him and made it more likely that they would check his background. Everything else about this had been carefully planned. Why make such a stupid blunder unless you wanted the police to know who you were, wanted them to. . .
Before the final though had connected, Jesse had undone his seatbelt and was out of the car running towards the house and calling out to Nathan, every instinct in him screaming that he had to stop them.
Nathan and the two uniformed officers were almost at the door of the apartments when he heard Jesse's shout, he had sent the other officers to cover the back. Nathan cursed, he turned to the officers. "Go in without me," he said, knowing that Jesse's shouts had probably lost them the element of surprise. He would have to get the young doctor back to the safety of the car before he could return and that would involve too long a delay if the others were to wait for him. The officers nodded and continued forward, as Nathan turned to walk back towards the young doctor who was running towards him.
"Nathan, no it's a trap," Jesse shouted, as the bottom floor of the apartment block mushroomed out in a cacophony of noise and bright orange flame.