Chapter Fourteen – I Would Rather Be With You

Steve and Mark sat at the table reading through all the information that had been gathered on the murders.  They had shared a pleasant and; in Steve's opinion delicious dinner of burgers and fries.  His father sat across from him; his shoulders slightly hunched, glasses on the end of his nose and a look of deep concentration on his face.  It was a look Steve knew well.  He smiled as he reached into a file to retrieve an interview that Aaron Dunbar had conducted with one of the bakery regulars.  He really didn't think he would find any new clues but at this point he was willing to try anything.  The silence was broken by the sound of Steve's cell phone ringing.  "Sloan, here."

Mark looked up from the report he was reading and focused on his son.

"Who did you say this was again?" Steve questioned.  He paused while the caller identified themselves.  "Ok, yes, I'm sorry, I know who you are.  She wants me to do what?"

Steve's tone had changed to one of irritation and Mark eyed him more intently, trying to figure out who could be on the other end of the phone.

Steve sighed and pulled his notebook out of his shirt pocket.  "Where and when?" was his abrupt response.  He then ended the conversation by flipping the phone shut.  Steve looked over to find himself the recipient of a look only his father was capable of.  It expressed curiosity, humor, a touch of anger and as always love.

"Go ahead," Steve said.

With a mock shocked expression on his face Mark responded.  "I don't know what you mean."

Steve gave him a half smile and relaxed slightly.  "That was David Larkin, you know the guy that works with Alex at the paper?"

Mark didn't answer immediately and when Steve glanced back at him, he could see that his fathers mind was working furiously.  "Dad?"

Mark was slow to respond as he looked at Steve he suddenly felt uneasy.  He was missing something.  It was just beyond his reach.  He knew it was important, but could not pull it from his memory.  "I'm sorry son, what did you say?"

Steve silently appraised his father.  He knew him well and could tell when he was onto something.  Once again he questioned.  'Dad?"

"I don't know, I just can't remember, it's niggling at the back of my mind, that name, I've heard it before."

"You have Dad, I've mentioned it a couple of times."

"No, Steve, other than when….there's something….," he let the sentence trail off.  "So, what did he want?"

Steve pondered both the question and his father for a moment before he answered.  "He said Alex had discovered some information and wants me to meet her and talk about it."

"Why didn't she call you herself?"

"He said she is down in the warehouse district working on a story, apparently her cell phone is not working very well, so when she got through to him she asked him to call me and relay the message."

There it was again the feeling that he was missing something.  It had started as a slight sensation in Mark's mind; it was now building in intensity.  "Don't you find that a little odd, with all the cell towers in LA?" Mark asked.

"He didn't say it was a service issue Dad, just that her phone was not working."

"What time and where are you meeting her?"

Steve looked at his watch.  "Now, and a warehouse on Dumsenil Street."  Steve knew that by the time he got across town it would be time to meet Alex.  He had hoped to get to bed early tonight.  He was tired, hurt and frustrated by his lack of progress on the case.  With a sigh he pushed himself back from the table and as he stood up a grimace of pain flashed across his face.  He looked towards his father to see if he had seen and then almost laughed out-loud at his own foolishness.  His ever alert father never missed anything.  Thus, he was surprised to find that Mark had not noticed, in fact Steve was pretty sure be could have stripped off naked and danced around the room and his father wouldn't have noticed.  His brow was creased and he was deep in thought.  "Dad?"

Mark jerked.  "Be careful, Steve," he spoke with an almost pleading tone in his voice.

Steve smiled faintly.  "Dad, it's just Alex, I don't think I'm in any danger."

Mark once again felt the uneasiness settle around him.  He felt the overwhelming need to keep his son close.  "I know it's just Alex, but remember someone took a shot at you."

"I remember, Dad, but I seriously doubt it was Alex," Steve responded with a grin.

Mark felt a flutter in his stomach.  His anxiety was on the rise again.  Something was so wrong.  He was reluctant to say anything to Steve because he couldn't really identify what was bothering him.  He looked up into the face he knew better than his own.  He saw the fatigue, the pain and the grin that was currently displayed.  The grin faltered slightly under Mark's intense scrutiny.

"Dad, I'll be fine, you're worrying over nothing."

"I just wish I could go with you," Mark stated.

"Dad, don't worry about it, how often do you get to meet with a master magician in your own home?"

Mark nodded his head.  A little over two weeks ago he had treated a master magician in the ER for a rabbit bite that had become infected.  They had conversed about magic during the treatment and the magician had offered to come to the beach house for some private lessons.  He was due to arrive in the next thirty minutes.  Mark did not have enough time to accompany his son.  "I know that, but I would rather be with you."

For some reason that simple statement threw Steve's emotions into chaos.  He felt the moisture begin to threaten in his eyes and he swallowed convulsively in an effort to bring himself under control.  Jeez, I must be more tired than I thought.  He managed to pull himself together and smiled at his father.  "Same here, Dad, have a good time learning some new tricks," Steve spoke as he turned and walked out of the room he suddenly stopped and turned around and looked at his father.

Mark lifted a brow and looked at him questioningly.  "Did you forget something?"

Steve smiled.  "No, just make sure you don't learn any tricks that require assistance from me, I still have a scar on my arm from the previous attempt," Steve said as he absently rubbed at the offended arm.

Mark chuckled lightly.  "Alright," he then sobered.  "Please be careful."

"I will Dad, don't wait up."

………………..

As Steve pulled into the parking lot the setting sun covered the side of the warehouse with a myriad of shadows.  He stopped the car and, after shutting off the engine, he sat quietly in the car.  He found his thoughts drawn to his father.  "I'd rather be with you".  The comment was echoing through his head.  He felt a tingling of apprehension in his spine.  You've rubbed off on me, Dad.  Steve shook his head to clear his thoughts and chuckled softly.  "Dad, you are making me paranoid."

He then opened the door and stepped out of the car.  He stopped briefly and squinting, looked towards the door of the building.  After a brief appraisal he touched his hand to the ever present gun on his hip before heading towards the doorway.

………………..

"He's coming," the man stated.

"I see him," snapped his partner.  "I knew he would come, just like a dog to a bone."

The man laughed.  "Woof, woof."

His partner smiled.  "Move over by the door and get ready, as soon as he walks through and sees me take him out."

"Sure, boss," the man responded with a smile.

………………..

Steve walked through the door to the warehouse and stopped to allow his eyes to adjust to the change in lighting.  He looked around, and a noise in the room to his right caught his attention and once again he reached to pat the gun that rode securely on his hip.  He walked towards the sound and as he crossed the threshold he looked into familiar eyes. A slight movement caught his attention to late, he turned moving his left hand towards his weapon, but he never made it, as a pipe connected with his right temple.  His final thought as his world grew dark was I'd rather be with you, Dad.