Chapter Three
After a very restless night Steve finally got up and headed for the shower. He thought about going for a run but the temptation to just keep on running was so tempting that he decided to just take the safe route and stand in the shower until the water ran cold. About thirty minutes later Steve headed back into the bedroom with a towel around his waist and stood in front of the mirror and surveyed the image that was reflected. The man he saw looked average. Maybe a little better than average, given that a lot of today's citizens seemed to let themselves get a little out of shape from bad diets and too little exercise. He worked out three times a week and ran at least that many times a week. Even though he enjoyed his share of fast food and of course ribs and potato salad, his workouts and runs didn't seem to let his diet settle on his frame in the wrong places. He wasn't too bad to look at. Anyway he hadn't broke any mirrors yet.
He wasn't a smooth talker but he did seem to have enough charm to attract women from time to time. Of course most of those had turned out to be psychos but the ones who weren't were really nice. To look at the man in the mirror you would just assume that he was another average American male who enjoyed the same things in life that any other male would. So why did he feel like such a looser? His dad was right. It was time to face his superiors and let them know that he was the wrong man to be going after Lenny Edwards.
When he finally made his way upstairs he found his father already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper spread out in front of him.
"Good morning son. I thought you would sleep a little longer." Mark smiled at his offspring as he got up to pour Steve a cup of coffee.
"I didn't sleep very well last night." Steve mumbled as he plopped himself down opposite of where his father had been sitting.
"I'm sorry. I should have given you something to help you sleep." Mark sighed as he placed the cup of hot coffee in front of his son.
"I didn't ask for anything." Steve responded rather surly. Reaching for the cream and sugar he added, "I'll be ok as soon as this meeting is over with."
Mark smiled as he ladled up oatmeal in a bowl. After buttering a couple of pieces of toast he laid the breakfast in front of Steve and scolded when he saw the look that came over his son's face. "I expect you to eat this and no excuses. You don't need to skip meals while your hand is healing. Sit up now and eat."
After suffering through half the oatmeal and at least one piece of toast Steve begged his dad to give him a reprieve on the rest of it. "Please Dad I don't feel very good. My stomach is all tied up in knots. I can't eat the rest of this."
Marks heart was wrenching for his son. He knew that Steve was dreading his meeting with Newman and Masters, but felt like it was the best way to lift the weight that his son was carrying around on his shoulders at the moment.
Mark cleared away the remainder of Steve's breakfast and replaced it with two tablets and a glass of orange juice. Steve looked at his father questioningly and before he could ask what it was for, Mark supplied the answer with a firm look. You know the one that meant that this is for your own good so don't argue.
"You need to calm your nerves so take them and I promise you will feel a lot better by the time we get to the station. Hurry we have to get going or we'll be late."
Steve never said a word but obediently took the two tablets and drank the juice in only a few seconds. Grabbing his jacket he followed his dad out the door and settled himself into the passenger side of the car. Mark looked at him with surprise. He had expected Steve to give him an argument about riding into the station with him. All the way to the Precinct, Steve only spoke when his father asked him a question. Mark gave up trying to carry on a conversation allowing Steve time to reflect on what he would say to his Captain and the Chief of Police.
Once they arrived Mark got out of the car and started for the door. He soon realized that his son was not with him. Looking back he saw Steve still sitting in the car. Mark walked back over to the car and opened the door. He extended his hand and offered it to Steve. Steve sat and starred at it for a second and then reluctantly he reached up and accepted it with his good hand and exited the car. Mark put his hand on his son's back and walked with him into the station. When they got close to Newman's office the Captain stepped out and invited Steve and Mark inside. Once the two men had passed through the door Newman shut it and invited the two Sloan men to have a seat.
Steve never looked up as he settled himself. He could feel his captain looking at him and it unnerved him so that his mouth started drying out. Suddenly he felt his father nudging his arm and in alarm Steve looked up and realized that his Captain had been addressing him. "I'm sorry sir what did you say?"
"I asked you if your hand was any better today." Newman eyed Steve noticing he was breaking out into a sweat.
"It's fine. It doesn't even hurt this morning." Steve only offered the simple answer and settled into silence again while once again inspecting the back of his hands as they laid in his lap. Both of his hands were slightly scarred from burns he had received while fighting a fire in the hills a couple of years ago and now the right one would have a scar where he had split it open from his little tantrum the day before.
Since his Lieutenant didn't seem too inclined in carrying on a conversation, Newman turned to Mark and explained that the Chief would be there in just a minute. While Mark and the Captain made small talk filling the time until the Chief's arrival Steve sat quietly thinking how much this felt like the few times he had wound up in the principles office with his parents because he had been caught committing some infraction of school rules. In fact this whole damn thing was starting to make him feel like a child.
Mark noticed that Steve was starting to get agitated and placed a calming hand on his son's leg, which was shaking vigorously. Mark was grateful when he felt a slight calming come over his very nervous son and decided to go ahead and address the issue.
"Jim, Steve is very nervous about this meeting in case you haven't noticed. I tried to explain to him that you and the Chief would be very understanding." Just then the Chief of the LA Police department walked into the room.
John Masters towered over most everyone he met. Mark felt that he seemed taller than he really was because of the attitude that he conveyed when he addressed you. He could make the toughest of men back up with nothing more than a look of cold steel and a few intimidating words. Mark felt that there was more to the man than just the arrogant and self-assured attitude that he displayed. Over the years Mark had developed a respect for him knowing that he was honest and fair with his officers. Because of Masters' control over his men, Mark knew that the force had been able to weather the bad publicity that seemed to attach itself every time someone screamed that they were being given a bad wrap.
"Sorry I'm late gentleman, but I'm here now so let's get to it. Shall we?" Masters settled his eyes on Steve.
Steve knew he was expected to speak but his mouth was so dry that he was afraid that if he opened it dust would fly out. He tried to clear his throat but all that did was to start a spasm of coughing. Newman seemed to realize that his Lieutenant was having some trouble getting started and offered him a cup of water, which Steve took gratefully and gulped down in record time.
Steve once again tried to clear his throat and this time he was successful. With a sigh he looked up at the three men who were waiting patiently for him to begin. "I need to discuss a problem that I'm having with a robbery case that I've been on for about seven months now. It seems that the thief has some knowledge about me that he is using against me and it's helping to make his escapes after each of his jobs. Under the circumstances I feel that maybe you should assign another detective to the case. At the rate that I'm going I won't ever make an arrest."
There, he finally said it and now they could take care of it. He wouldn't blame them if they asked for his badge right now. He felt his father's hand on his leg again and he realized he had been shaking his leg again. He tried to draw in a breath to settle his nerves. He knew the questions were about to begin and he wanted to be able to answer without his voice choking in his throat.
"Could you explain what exactly this knowledge is that Edwards seems to have that is aiding in his escape." Steve looked up at the Chief in surprise. He wasn't aware that the Chief even knew the punk's name much less anything about the case. It wasn't exactly high profile.
"Yes Lieutenant I am aware of the case. I am aware of the progress of all the cases coming from this department. I would like for you to tell us why you think that you are unable to catch this person. I would be very interested to know what it is he knows that we don't." Steve felt that familiar feeling of intimidation that was always there when Chief Masters was addressing him.
Mark could feel his son struggling so he offered to wade in at this point. "This is very hard for Steve. Even though I have tried to tell him over the years that it isn't anything to be ashamed of he carries around a lot of guilt evey time it becomes an issue. I have also told him that I was very sure that you would understand. It isn't an uncommon phobia."
At this point Steve interrupted his father and with all the courage he could muster he confessed. "I have a severe fear of heights. I can't seem to get a grip on it. Every time I get close to this jerk he ends up on a roof and starts sprinting across, then jumping from one roof to the next. I'm sorry I just can't bring myself to follow him." At this point Steve was studying his hands and his leg was shaking again.
"Steve, what makes you think that Edwards knows about your fear?" asked Newman.
"When he lands on the other roof he turns to me and laughs. He gives me this stupid salute and then runs off. I know he's found out. I just don't know how. I have never confessed this to anyone. Not even to my closest friends." Steve was starting to calm down a little. It felt good to finally confess this to his superiors and get it behind him.
"If you want me to resign from the force I understand. I realize that this is hindering my performance as a cop. I'm sorry." At this point Steve fell silent and sat waiting for a lecture and a request for his badge and gun. What followed next was a total surprise. He got a lecture but not the one he had expected.
"I will admit to you Lieutenant that I am disappointed in you. But not for the fact that you have a problem with heights." Newman began. "I had hoped that we had a better relationship than this."
At this point Steve looked up and what he saw confused him. There was no anger in his Captains eyes. What Steve saw was compassion. "I don't understand sir. I have always had respect for you, and tried to show it."
"That isn't the issue. You had a problem and you didn't feel that you could come to me and tell me. I don't want your badge Steve. I want you to trust me. I'm not here to just bark out orders. I'm here to help you. You should have come to me earlier." Newman stood up and reached across his desk and extended his hand towards Steve.
After starring at his captains hand for a second Steve stood as well and accepted it and the two men shook. After both men had settled back into their chairs, the Chief spoke up and offered a suggestion.
"I think that we need to approach this case at a different angle. It doesn't matter how this punk found out about your fear Lieutenant. But I do agree with you. He does seem to be using it to make good his escape. Some how we need to use this to our advantage." Rising from his chair the Chief made his way to the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned towards the detective, "And Steve, almost everyone has some kind of fear to deal with. It doesn't make you any less of a man. You are still the same detective that you always have been. We are lucky to have you on the force. Never forget that."
"I'm sure that's true. We all have our demons that we have to deal with. What about you Chief? Would you care to share one of yours?" Mark smiled up at the man who towered above those in the room.
"I said almost everyone. Not all of us." With a smile and a look that could only be described as smug, the Chief turned and left.
After the Chief left Newman told Steve to take the rest of the day off. "Forget about all of this for the rest of the day detective. We can start fresh with it tomorrow. Get some rest and report back at seven in the morning."
After a very restless night Steve finally got up and headed for the shower. He thought about going for a run but the temptation to just keep on running was so tempting that he decided to just take the safe route and stand in the shower until the water ran cold. About thirty minutes later Steve headed back into the bedroom with a towel around his waist and stood in front of the mirror and surveyed the image that was reflected. The man he saw looked average. Maybe a little better than average, given that a lot of today's citizens seemed to let themselves get a little out of shape from bad diets and too little exercise. He worked out three times a week and ran at least that many times a week. Even though he enjoyed his share of fast food and of course ribs and potato salad, his workouts and runs didn't seem to let his diet settle on his frame in the wrong places. He wasn't too bad to look at. Anyway he hadn't broke any mirrors yet.
He wasn't a smooth talker but he did seem to have enough charm to attract women from time to time. Of course most of those had turned out to be psychos but the ones who weren't were really nice. To look at the man in the mirror you would just assume that he was another average American male who enjoyed the same things in life that any other male would. So why did he feel like such a looser? His dad was right. It was time to face his superiors and let them know that he was the wrong man to be going after Lenny Edwards.
When he finally made his way upstairs he found his father already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper spread out in front of him.
"Good morning son. I thought you would sleep a little longer." Mark smiled at his offspring as he got up to pour Steve a cup of coffee.
"I didn't sleep very well last night." Steve mumbled as he plopped himself down opposite of where his father had been sitting.
"I'm sorry. I should have given you something to help you sleep." Mark sighed as he placed the cup of hot coffee in front of his son.
"I didn't ask for anything." Steve responded rather surly. Reaching for the cream and sugar he added, "I'll be ok as soon as this meeting is over with."
Mark smiled as he ladled up oatmeal in a bowl. After buttering a couple of pieces of toast he laid the breakfast in front of Steve and scolded when he saw the look that came over his son's face. "I expect you to eat this and no excuses. You don't need to skip meals while your hand is healing. Sit up now and eat."
After suffering through half the oatmeal and at least one piece of toast Steve begged his dad to give him a reprieve on the rest of it. "Please Dad I don't feel very good. My stomach is all tied up in knots. I can't eat the rest of this."
Marks heart was wrenching for his son. He knew that Steve was dreading his meeting with Newman and Masters, but felt like it was the best way to lift the weight that his son was carrying around on his shoulders at the moment.
Mark cleared away the remainder of Steve's breakfast and replaced it with two tablets and a glass of orange juice. Steve looked at his father questioningly and before he could ask what it was for, Mark supplied the answer with a firm look. You know the one that meant that this is for your own good so don't argue.
"You need to calm your nerves so take them and I promise you will feel a lot better by the time we get to the station. Hurry we have to get going or we'll be late."
Steve never said a word but obediently took the two tablets and drank the juice in only a few seconds. Grabbing his jacket he followed his dad out the door and settled himself into the passenger side of the car. Mark looked at him with surprise. He had expected Steve to give him an argument about riding into the station with him. All the way to the Precinct, Steve only spoke when his father asked him a question. Mark gave up trying to carry on a conversation allowing Steve time to reflect on what he would say to his Captain and the Chief of Police.
Once they arrived Mark got out of the car and started for the door. He soon realized that his son was not with him. Looking back he saw Steve still sitting in the car. Mark walked back over to the car and opened the door. He extended his hand and offered it to Steve. Steve sat and starred at it for a second and then reluctantly he reached up and accepted it with his good hand and exited the car. Mark put his hand on his son's back and walked with him into the station. When they got close to Newman's office the Captain stepped out and invited Steve and Mark inside. Once the two men had passed through the door Newman shut it and invited the two Sloan men to have a seat.
Steve never looked up as he settled himself. He could feel his captain looking at him and it unnerved him so that his mouth started drying out. Suddenly he felt his father nudging his arm and in alarm Steve looked up and realized that his Captain had been addressing him. "I'm sorry sir what did you say?"
"I asked you if your hand was any better today." Newman eyed Steve noticing he was breaking out into a sweat.
"It's fine. It doesn't even hurt this morning." Steve only offered the simple answer and settled into silence again while once again inspecting the back of his hands as they laid in his lap. Both of his hands were slightly scarred from burns he had received while fighting a fire in the hills a couple of years ago and now the right one would have a scar where he had split it open from his little tantrum the day before.
Since his Lieutenant didn't seem too inclined in carrying on a conversation, Newman turned to Mark and explained that the Chief would be there in just a minute. While Mark and the Captain made small talk filling the time until the Chief's arrival Steve sat quietly thinking how much this felt like the few times he had wound up in the principles office with his parents because he had been caught committing some infraction of school rules. In fact this whole damn thing was starting to make him feel like a child.
Mark noticed that Steve was starting to get agitated and placed a calming hand on his son's leg, which was shaking vigorously. Mark was grateful when he felt a slight calming come over his very nervous son and decided to go ahead and address the issue.
"Jim, Steve is very nervous about this meeting in case you haven't noticed. I tried to explain to him that you and the Chief would be very understanding." Just then the Chief of the LA Police department walked into the room.
John Masters towered over most everyone he met. Mark felt that he seemed taller than he really was because of the attitude that he conveyed when he addressed you. He could make the toughest of men back up with nothing more than a look of cold steel and a few intimidating words. Mark felt that there was more to the man than just the arrogant and self-assured attitude that he displayed. Over the years Mark had developed a respect for him knowing that he was honest and fair with his officers. Because of Masters' control over his men, Mark knew that the force had been able to weather the bad publicity that seemed to attach itself every time someone screamed that they were being given a bad wrap.
"Sorry I'm late gentleman, but I'm here now so let's get to it. Shall we?" Masters settled his eyes on Steve.
Steve knew he was expected to speak but his mouth was so dry that he was afraid that if he opened it dust would fly out. He tried to clear his throat but all that did was to start a spasm of coughing. Newman seemed to realize that his Lieutenant was having some trouble getting started and offered him a cup of water, which Steve took gratefully and gulped down in record time.
Steve once again tried to clear his throat and this time he was successful. With a sigh he looked up at the three men who were waiting patiently for him to begin. "I need to discuss a problem that I'm having with a robbery case that I've been on for about seven months now. It seems that the thief has some knowledge about me that he is using against me and it's helping to make his escapes after each of his jobs. Under the circumstances I feel that maybe you should assign another detective to the case. At the rate that I'm going I won't ever make an arrest."
There, he finally said it and now they could take care of it. He wouldn't blame them if they asked for his badge right now. He felt his father's hand on his leg again and he realized he had been shaking his leg again. He tried to draw in a breath to settle his nerves. He knew the questions were about to begin and he wanted to be able to answer without his voice choking in his throat.
"Could you explain what exactly this knowledge is that Edwards seems to have that is aiding in his escape." Steve looked up at the Chief in surprise. He wasn't aware that the Chief even knew the punk's name much less anything about the case. It wasn't exactly high profile.
"Yes Lieutenant I am aware of the case. I am aware of the progress of all the cases coming from this department. I would like for you to tell us why you think that you are unable to catch this person. I would be very interested to know what it is he knows that we don't." Steve felt that familiar feeling of intimidation that was always there when Chief Masters was addressing him.
Mark could feel his son struggling so he offered to wade in at this point. "This is very hard for Steve. Even though I have tried to tell him over the years that it isn't anything to be ashamed of he carries around a lot of guilt evey time it becomes an issue. I have also told him that I was very sure that you would understand. It isn't an uncommon phobia."
At this point Steve interrupted his father and with all the courage he could muster he confessed. "I have a severe fear of heights. I can't seem to get a grip on it. Every time I get close to this jerk he ends up on a roof and starts sprinting across, then jumping from one roof to the next. I'm sorry I just can't bring myself to follow him." At this point Steve was studying his hands and his leg was shaking again.
"Steve, what makes you think that Edwards knows about your fear?" asked Newman.
"When he lands on the other roof he turns to me and laughs. He gives me this stupid salute and then runs off. I know he's found out. I just don't know how. I have never confessed this to anyone. Not even to my closest friends." Steve was starting to calm down a little. It felt good to finally confess this to his superiors and get it behind him.
"If you want me to resign from the force I understand. I realize that this is hindering my performance as a cop. I'm sorry." At this point Steve fell silent and sat waiting for a lecture and a request for his badge and gun. What followed next was a total surprise. He got a lecture but not the one he had expected.
"I will admit to you Lieutenant that I am disappointed in you. But not for the fact that you have a problem with heights." Newman began. "I had hoped that we had a better relationship than this."
At this point Steve looked up and what he saw confused him. There was no anger in his Captains eyes. What Steve saw was compassion. "I don't understand sir. I have always had respect for you, and tried to show it."
"That isn't the issue. You had a problem and you didn't feel that you could come to me and tell me. I don't want your badge Steve. I want you to trust me. I'm not here to just bark out orders. I'm here to help you. You should have come to me earlier." Newman stood up and reached across his desk and extended his hand towards Steve.
After starring at his captains hand for a second Steve stood as well and accepted it and the two men shook. After both men had settled back into their chairs, the Chief spoke up and offered a suggestion.
"I think that we need to approach this case at a different angle. It doesn't matter how this punk found out about your fear Lieutenant. But I do agree with you. He does seem to be using it to make good his escape. Some how we need to use this to our advantage." Rising from his chair the Chief made his way to the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned towards the detective, "And Steve, almost everyone has some kind of fear to deal with. It doesn't make you any less of a man. You are still the same detective that you always have been. We are lucky to have you on the force. Never forget that."
"I'm sure that's true. We all have our demons that we have to deal with. What about you Chief? Would you care to share one of yours?" Mark smiled up at the man who towered above those in the room.
"I said almost everyone. Not all of us." With a smile and a look that could only be described as smug, the Chief turned and left.
After the Chief left Newman told Steve to take the rest of the day off. "Forget about all of this for the rest of the day detective. We can start fresh with it tomorrow. Get some rest and report back at seven in the morning."