Chapter Seven – Front Page News

"What do you mean, Dad?" Steve asked.

"I've been reading through your files and I have found something odd," Mark answered.

Steve suddenly realized that Alex was still there and she had opened her notebook and was poised to begin writing.  "Dad, wait.  Alex, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Steve, you've given me nothing, I can't write a story with that, help me out here, please?"

Steve hoped his tone reflected the regret that he could not offer her more details, nor allow her to hear what his father was about to tell him.  "Alex, I really am sorry, but whatever he is about to tell me is not for public consumption at this time."

The anger that flashed through her eyes and the stiff set of her shoulders were characteristics he was familiar with.  She was furious.  She turned and stormed off the deck and they both jumped as the sound of the front door being slammed echoed through the house.

A mischievous smile played about Mark's lips.  "That went well."

Steve grinned in response.  "Well, at least it was a response I'm familiar with.  What did you find?"

"The Travel Agency that Jacob Sherrard worked for is across the street from Ray's Gym."

"So, we now have a common link, but what do we do with it?"

"I haven't figured that out yet," Mark responded.  "Amanda called."

"And?" Steve prompted.

"She thinks the needle marks are being done to throw us off, the lab results are negative for a foreign substance, and on closer examination they just barely penetrate the skin."

Steve shook his head as if trying to clear it.  "So, you mean the killer is leaving false clues?"

"It certainly looks that way," Mark responded.

"That only strengthens the thought that the victims know their killer," Steve added.  "I think it's time I visited Jacob Sherrard's employer," Steve stated as he rose from the chair with a grimace.

"Steve, you are supposed to be resting," Mark advised.

"Dad, do you really think I'm going to be able to rest?"

Mark shook his head.  "No, I suppose you won't, let me get my jacket, and I'll drive you."

……………………

As they pulled up in front of the travel agency Steve took note of the businesses along the block.  It was pretty typical, a florist, the gym, a doughnut shop, a cell phone business and of course the travel agency.  The normal assortment of streetside vendors were there as well, a magazine stand, a hotdog vendor and a guy signing people up for the LA Times.  That caused his thoughts to shift briefly to Alex.  He hoped she wouldn't stay mad.  He was startled from his thoughts by the door being opened.  He looked up to find his father smiling and offering a helping hand.  He reached up and grasped his arm and allowed himself to be assisted from the car.  "Thanks, Dad," he offered with a smile.

"You're welcome, just be glad you're somewhat mobile, because I sure couldn't carry you."

Mark kept a gentle hand on his back as they opened the door and entered the travel agency.  As they approached the first desk in the room Steve pulled his badge out.  "I'm Lieutenant Steve Sloan with the LAPD, I need to speak with whoever is in charge."

"That would be me," a small voice squeaked.

Steve looked towards the direction the voice came from to find a small timid looking man.

"I'm, Herbert Denner, I manage the travel agency."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Denner, this is my father, Doctor Mark Sloan, he is a consultant with the police department.  Is there someplace we can talk in private?"

"Yes, we have a conference room in the back, please follow me."

As they settled around the table Steve asked his first question.  "Mr. Denner, when was the last time you saw Jacob Sherrard?"

"Two days ago."

"Did he seem alright?" Steve asked.

"He seemed just fine, it was a busy day, so I only talked with him briefly."

"Had he been seeing anyone?" Mark asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know, I try and stay out of my employee's personal lives."

The conversation had continued for a few more moments with the only useful piece of information being that Jacob Sherrard was good friends with Colleen Banister another agent with the company.  They usually had lunch together and if he was seeing anyone she would know.  Unfortunately she had left the day of the murder to serve as a guide on a three week African Safari. 

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Denner," Steve offered as he handed him his card.  "If Ms Banister calls in please have her contact me."

As Steve and Mark made their way to the car Steve swayed slightly.  He found himself quickly being scrutinized by his father's watchful eyes.  "I'm fine, just a little touch of dizziness."

"Which is exactly why you are supposed to be home resting," Mark replied.

"Hey, it's not like I'm out without medical supervision, I have a doctor with me."

"Yes, and the doctor says we are going home, I shouldn't have allowed this trip in the first place."

"No harm done, Dad, but I think I am ready to go home."

……………………..

As Steve slowly opened his eyes he took note of the bright sunshine peeking through the blinds.  He cautiously stretched and found that things seemed better this morning.  He rolled to one side and read the illuminated clock.  Seven AM.  By the time he washed up and ate it would be time to leave for work.  He carefully got up from the bed and made his way to the shower.

………………………

Steve stopped on the top step and sniffed the air appreciatively.  It smelled like bacon.  He walked into the kitchen to find Mark hovering over a skillet and humming softy to himself.  "Morning, Dad."

"Good morning, yourself.  How are you feeling?"

"Much better, and hungry," Steve responded with a grin.

"Breakfast is almost ready, will you grab the paper for me?  I haven't had time to get it yet."

"Sure," Steve responded.  He walked back to the front door, and carefully stooped down and retrieved the paper.  He unfolded it and started flipping towards the sports section.  It was then that what he had briefly glanced at on the front page registered with him.  He flipped back quickly and the read the headline.  The loudly voiced oath that sprung from his lips left no doubt as to his opinion of the headline.

Mark hearing his son had rushed from the kitchen to find him frozen like a statute, his hands gripping the paper so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.  "Steve, what is it?"  When he got no response he took the paper from his son's grasp and read the front page.  "No," Mark said as he looked at his son with concerned eyes.