It's A Beautiful Day In Steve's Neighborhood
No profit is made from this story. I don't own the characters of DM.
A/N: This story is loosely based on my own neighborhood while growing up. It's funny how you don't think about the people around you until sadly they are no longer among us. To this day I still cherish the people who took a personal interest in my life then and now. I hope I have been able to give back a little of what they have given me. A word of thanks to my good friend Betty. She is always there to read and give me her opinion on what I write. This time she helped me decide how to divide the story in an appropriate place to post.
Part One.
I don't own the characters of Diagnosis Murder. I just borrow them from time to time and then send them home. The only profit made from this story is the joy that I get from writing it.
What happens when you've been up for the last 36 hours and all you want to do is go to bed and sleep, but your neighbors have other plans for you.
Part One
Steve wearily made his way up the steps to the front door of the Beach House. He could almost feel the comfort of his own bed. It seemed like a week ago he had climbed out and headed for work. In reallity it had only been 36 hours straight but he was running on fumes and he was ready to crash. Once inside he spied his father sitting at the dinning room table sipping a cup of coffee. He made his way towards the kitchen looking for a glass of orange juice he hoped might be available.
When Mark looked up what he saw made his heart jump in his chest. There was his son looking like he had been drug behind a fast moving vehicle. Steve's clothes were both torn and dirty. His face was smudged with dirt and there were a few scratches and a good size bruise coming up on the right side of his face. His hair was not it's usual, 'neat, every hair in place' style.
Mark jumped up and quickly closed the gap between him and Steve. He reached out and took his son by the arm and led him over to a chair. Once Steve had settled down Mark went to the fridge and poured out the juice and handed it to his son. There were a dozen questions just bursting at his lips but he chose to save them until his son had a chance to relax for a minute. Steve reached up gratefully for the juice and downed half the glass before he came up for air. Mark refilled the glass and sat down next to his son studying his face. Not only did Steve's face tell a tale of a hard night, but his eyes were screaming tired.
Steve could feel his father's intense gaze turning into a full blown interrogation. One he really wasn't up to at the moment. Mark seemed to sense this and instead asked his son.
"Steve do you want some breakfast. I could fix you some hot cereal of some kind."
"No dad. I think I'll just stop with the juice. I'm beat and all I want to do is go to bed." He stood up and began to make his way towards the stairs that led to his apartment below.
Mark watched as his son disappeared and went about gathering the things he would need to tend to his face. He intended to check him out thoroughly to be sure that he wasn't hiding any serious injury. Experience told him that more than likely there was more than just a few bruises and scrapes on his face to be attended too.
When he got to Steve's bedroom he heard the water running and decided to pull the covers back on his son's bed. He sat down and patiently waited for Steve to finish with his shower. While he waited he noticed the shirt that Steve had discarded on a chair nearby and went to pick it up. Mark turned the shirt over in his hand studying the condition it was in. A look of concern came across his face as he noticed there was a lot of blood on the front and several slashes that look like someone had taken a knife to it. He hadn't noticed any of this earlier because Steve and cleverly managed to hide it with his jacket. Alarmed at the condition of the shirt he quickly made his way to the bathroom intending to wait no further for Steve to finish his shower.
"Steve?" He called as he entered the steamy room.
"I'll be out in a minute dad." Steve knew his father would freak if he saw the cuts on his chest and had hoped that maybe he would have been able to cover them up with a tee shirt before his dad came to check on him.
"No son. I'm opening the shower door now. I want to see how bad the injuries are to your chest." He was firm and determined in his desire to check his obstinate son out. What he saw once he had opened the shower door made him gasp. There on Steve's chest were two very angry looking gashes.
"Dad please let me finish my shower." Steve reached for the door but his dad reached to turn the water off before he could pull it shut again.
"No. You're finished now. Out." Mark was angry.
"You should have said something to me Steve when you came in. Better yet. You should have gone to the hospital and had this checked out." He handed Steve a towel as he stepped out of the shower.
"It's not that bad Dad." Steve tried to temper some of the anger he saw in Marks face. He was failing miserably.
Taking his obstinate son's arm he ushered him through the door and headed him towards the bed. "I'll be the judge of that. Sit down and let me check it out."
For the next hour Mark cleaned and bandaged several cuts, gashes and scrapes that he found on his son's body. He stopped counting once he got past his chest. There were three fairly large bruises on his back wear it looked like some one had kicked him or punched him repeatedly. After a continuous lecture and all the pain he regretfully had managed to inflict on his son, Mark gave Steve strict orders to get into bed and get some much needed sleep.
"I expect you to be asleep when I get back from the hospital this afternoon. I should be home around two o'clock and the only sound I want to hear is you snoring. No TV, no phone, no radio. Just snoring." Mark pinned Steve with a parental glare that he hadn't seen in quite awhile.
"I promise Dad. I'm too tired to do anything else. I'll be sound asleep the rest of the day. Now go on to the hospital and torture someone else. I've had enough for one day." To emphasize his point Steve laid down pulling the covers up to his neck and turning over onto his side shutting his eyes.
Mark stood and watched his son for a moment and after he was sure that Steve was well on his way to sleep he made his way up stairs to gather his jacket and keys. He wasn't sure why but for some reason he wasn't sure if he trusted his son to stay in bed. But the way Steve looked when he left made him realize that he was probably too tired and sore to get into any trouble. He pushed the little niggling thought to the back of his mind and continued on to the hospital.
Steve had probably not been to sleep more than twenty minutes when he heard a sound that brought him back to the surface. He was so groggy that it took him a couple of minutes to realize that the insistent pounding that he heard was someone knocking on his patio door. He raised up and looked over to where the drapes had been pulled part way and realized that a small woman was frantically beating on the glass trying to get his attention. He stumbled from the bed and made his way over to the door opening it slightly. He peeked out to see who it was and what was so important. There stood the lady from down the street, all five feet of her, frantic and insistent.
"Steven please help me. Prudence has climbed up in the tree again and she is too scared to come down. That nasty little poodle of Mrs. Haggleman has chased her again. She is so scarred. Please hurry." Before Steve could even say a word or get his shoes he was being pulled out the door and down the beach to Mrs. Montgomery's house.
Steve rubbed at his eyes as he stumbled behind her trying to understand the flow of chatter that seemed to be spilling out of her mouth with out her even taking a breath. Once they reached the side of the house where the tree stood he had managed to wake up enough to think about the task ahead of him.
He grabbed the lowest branch on the tree and heaved himself up to it standing close to the trunk. He then grabbed the next branch and after placing his foot on the trunk he once again heaved himself up to the next branch. He had done this several times since Prudence the cat and Sweety the poodle seemed to always be at each other's throats. The end results were always the same. Prudence would climb to the middle of the tree crouching and hiding, unable to climb down later when Sweety had tired of antagonizing the fluffy ball of gray fur.
Steve braced himself for what he knew would happen next. He reached up to grab the cat. She hissed and leaped onto his shoulder digging her claws into his skin. He bit back a few choice words and phrases and began to slowly make his way back down the tree. Once he managed to make it back to the ground he pulled the cat from his shoulders and handed her to Mrs. Montgomery. When he extracted the cat from his body he was sure he had a whole new set of gashes to go along with the previous set.
"Oh thank you honey. I don't know what we would do without you. Would we Prudence?" Using that voice that people often do while talking to babies she continued to scold her cat for running up the tree.
"Don't worry about it. I'm always happy to help out Mrs. Montgomery. But if there isn't anything else I think I'll go back home and get to bed. I was up late last night." Steve turned to wearily make his way back to the beach house when Mrs. Montgomery reached up and pulled the front of his tee shirt causing Steve to bend forward a little. She planted a wet kiss on his cheek.
"You are such a good boy Steven. You always have been. Now scoot along with you. We'll see you later." With that Mrs. Montgomery made her way back inside her own house fussing at the cat the whole time.
Once Steve got inside the beach house he decided to get something to drink. He just left the little kitchen in his apartment when the phone rang. His first thought was that it was his dad calling to see if he was in bed asleep. He chided himself for that one, realizing that his dad would never call to see if he were asleep. "Not to swift when you're tired are you Sloan." He said to himself as he picked up the phone.
"Steve, I noticed your truck in the drive way. Are you busy boy?" It was Mr. Peterman. He was deaf in his right ear and for some reason he insisted on using that ear to listen on the phone with. So he never heard Steve try to explain that he was getting some much needed sleep.
I need you to take me to the pharmacy to get my medicine. That dang delivery boy of theirs is out sick again. I'll be waiting out front for you when you pick me up. I sure appreciate it boy." Mr. Peterman hung up the phone not ever hearing Steve trying to explain he was trying to get to bed.
Sighing, Steve found his jeans and he quickly changed from the sweat pants and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes. He grabbed his keys and headed for his truck. If his dad ever found out that he wasn't in bed he would be nailed to the wall.
Sure enough when Steve pulled up in front of Mr. Peterman's house the old gentleman was standing out front waiting. Steve got out of his truck to help the older man in. Mr. Peterman used a cane and in the process of trying to get into the seat he managed to hit Steve in the head with it two or three times.
All the way to the pharmacy the old gentleman kept up a steady flow of chatter. Steve glanced at the old man out of the corner of his eye wondering how the old man managed to breath since he never stopped talking. It was only about a fifteen minute drive to the pharmacy but in that short span Steve had learned why he was on two kinds of blood pressure medication, and what he had to do about the fungus on his right foot. That was actually more information than Steve cared to know.
Once he parked the car Steve got out and helped Mr. Peterman out of the truck and decided to escort him inside in hopes of keeping him focused on the mission at hand. It seemed that Mr. Peterman knew everybody in Malibu. Every one they passed he had to stop and chat with them for a few minutes.
After about the fifth person Steve made his way up to the counter and asked the clerk for Mr. Peterman's medication. The clerk looked at Steve warily and was reluctant to hand over the sack of pills until Steve showed him Mr. Perterman and his ID. He paid for the medicine himself and started making his way back to the older gentleman. Taking his arm he gently began maneuvering Mr. Peterman towards the door.
"Steve wait I got to get my medicine." Mr. Peterman protested.
"I already have it." Steve said holding up the sack as he proceeded towards the door.
"I need to pay for it." Said Mr. Peterman, once again applying the brakes trying to go back to the counter.
"I already paid for it Mr. Peterman." Steve took a firmer hold on his neighbor trying to coax him out the door.
"Did you get my Senior Citizen discount boy." The old man apparently was not going to go quietly.
"Yes Mr. Peterman. I got the discount." Steve was doing his best to maintain his patience.
Once Steve got Mr. Peterman back inside the truck he felt he had a good chance in getting them back home before it was discovered he was not where he was suppose to be. But unfortunately Mr. Peterman had other ideas.
"Steve let's stop at that little market across from Harry's Gas Station. I want to get some of those little peanut bars that his wife makes. You can't get them anywhere else you know. His wife makes em. They are some of the best peanut candy I have ever tasted. You won't find a better piece of candy anywhere in this state. I always keep about five of them in the house at all times. I never know when I just might want one so I always just keep them in the house. You can't get them anywhere else. His own wife makes 'em herself. Did I mention that already." Steve never heard anyone who could talk nonstop and say the same thing over and over the way Mr. Peterman could.
Steve pulled up in front of the little market and once again helped Mr. Peterman from the truck just barely missing the cane that seemed to circle his head every time he helped the older gentleman from his truck. Once inside Mr. Peterman once again went into his little speech about the peanut bars to the clerk behind the counter. Steve tried to stand patiently while Mr. Peterman made his purchase and continued to prattle on.
I want six of them bars. I always keep five at the house but I want to get one for the young man over here. He has been real handy to take me on my errands today. Yes sir this is Dr. Sloan's boy. Ain't he a dandy?" Mr. Peterman beemed up at Steve with pride.
Steve could feel his face blushing while Mr. Peterman gathered his purchase and continued his nonstop monologue. Once again he helped the old man into the truck trying to avoid the cane. Unfortunately he wasn't quick enough when Mr. Peterman made a sudden turn catching Steve on the left ear. Shaking it off Steve made his way to the other side of the truck with just one goal in mind. Get Mr. Peterman home and safe before he could think of any where else he wanted Steve to take him.
Fortunately Mr. Peterman seemed to be through with his little field trip and even though he continued to talk nonstop Steve was able to get him home in record time. Once again he jumped out to help his neighbor out of the truck. This time he managed to avoid any accidents with the cane. He walked Mr. Peterman to his door and just as he was about to leave, the old gentleman stopped him.
"Here boy. I bought you one of these peanut bars. They are the best you will ever eat. Now don't eat that until after your supper. I don't want you spoiling your appetite on this candy. Did I mention that his wife makes em." Mr. Peterman seemed to be off again on one of his stories.
Steve could see the door shutting on his escape if he didn't do something quick. With the risk of probably sounding rude he plunged in and quickly explained to the old man.
"Mr. Peterman if I don't get home and get to bed soon my dads going to find out and then he's going to tie me to the bed. He wasn't real happy about the shape I came home in anyway. So if you don't mind I better get home before he finds out I'm not in bed. Thanks for the candy. Bye." With that Steve turned towards his truck and all but ran to escape the old man before he could reply.
Once Steve managed to pull up in front of the house again he was feeling really tired. He decided to go around to the back and enter from his own entrance instead of jogging up the steps that led to the front door of the beach house. Maybe this way he could get inside and turn the phone off and get to bed.
He was about to put his key into the lock when he thought he heard someone crying. It was a quiet sob and didn't sound like it was very far away. He turned and looked at the fence that separated their yard from the beach. By a row of bushes he could just make out a little figure dressed in blue. He cautiously walked over to investigate and when he pulled the bushes back he was surprised at what he found. There sitting in the sand was a little girl who looked like she was about four years old. She was crying into her hands and Steve reached down and picked her up hugging her to him. He carried her over to a lawn chair and sat down with her letting her cry for a minute while he tried to sooth her. Eventually she stopped with the tears and Steve smiled at her wiping her face with the tail of his tee shirt.
"What's your name honey?" He asked.
She barely answered above a whisper. "Emily."
"Emily. That's a pretty name. My name is Steve. Emily do you live around here." Steve doubted it since he had never seen the little girl before on the beach.
Emily shook her head no and looked as if she were about to cry again. Steve wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently once again soothing her.
"Emily do you know where your mommy is?" Once again the little girl looked distressed and tears started to fall down her face.
"Sshh. Don't cry sweety. Did you loose your mommy?" This time the little girl nodded her head.
"She told me not to walk to far from Grandma's house. I didn't mean too. I saw a puppy and I started to chase him. When I looked up I didn't know where I was. Now I can't find my Grandma's house. I'm scared." She began to cry again breaking Steve's heart.
Steve had a soft spot for kids and older people and he hated to see them in any kind of distress. Besides the cop in him kept him in protect and serve mode all the time. He gathered her up and stood with her, making his way to the beach.
"Do you remember which way you came from honey?" He asked the little girl.
Emily nodded her head yes and pointed towards the left. Steve carried her and trudged up the beach in search of what he hoped were some frantic adults who might have realized that something was missing by now.
For the next ten minutes Steve walked with Emily in his arms stopping occasionally to ask if anyone recognized the little girl. It seemed that Emily must have ran for quite awhile. Suddenly up ahead he saw two women who looked like they were searching for someone or something. Emily recognized them and began to wiggle in Steve's arms wanting to get down and run towards the two.
"Mommy, Mommy." She cried as Steve sat her on her feet. She immediately ran practically jumping into the younger woman's arms.
"Oh thank goodness. Emily I was so scared. Honey what happened to you." Mom was hugging and kissing her squirming little girl with tears running down her face.
"I'm sorry Mommy. I didn't mean to run away. I was chasing the puppy and when I looked up you and Grandma were gone. I couldn't find Grandma's house." Emily was crying again still frightened at what had happened.
Just then Emily's Grandmother stepped towards Steve. "Thanks Steve. I don't know how you found her but thank goodness you did."
"Don't mention it Mrs. Davis. Actually I think she found me. It didn't take us long to find you." Steve smiled at the older woman.
"I should have known it would be you to the rescue. Anyway let me introduce you to my daughter-in-law Nancy. She's David's wife. They are here visiting for a couple of weeks."
Steve stepped forward to shake hands with her. "It's nice to meet you Nancy."
Shaking his hand she replied. "It's nice to meet you too. And thank you so much for bringing Emily back. I was so worried."
"I'm glad I could help." Steve said.
"Steve here is a detective with the LAPD. He and his dad live down the beach a ways." Looking over at her granddaughter she added. "You did go a ways down the beach. Steve's dad is the Head of Internal Medicine at Community General Hospital. Which by the looks of you young man is a good thing. Has your dad looked at you lately? You look like you were in a fight and lost." Said Mrs. Davis while advancing towards the young detective.
Backing up a step he replied. "He saw me this morning. I got a first rate lecture and orders to go to bed and stay there. Which is where I better head before he finds out that I'm not following his orders." Nodding his head towards Emily and her mom he added. "It was very nice to meet the two of you. I hope Emily that maybe I will see you soon. Maybe your mom will let me take you out on my surf board for a ride while your here."
"Oh Mommy please. Can I please." Emily seemed to have forgotten about her traumatic experience already.
While laughing at her daughter, Nancy reluctantly said. "Well we'll see. We don't want to impose any further on Steve."
"It would be my pleasure. It'll take me a couple of days to convince my dad that I'm ok but he usually comes around eventually. I'll check back with you towards the end of the week. Bye." Waving at the three females Steve then tuned and started making his way back towards his bed.
No profit is made from this story. I don't own the characters of DM.
A/N: This story is loosely based on my own neighborhood while growing up. It's funny how you don't think about the people around you until sadly they are no longer among us. To this day I still cherish the people who took a personal interest in my life then and now. I hope I have been able to give back a little of what they have given me. A word of thanks to my good friend Betty. She is always there to read and give me her opinion on what I write. This time she helped me decide how to divide the story in an appropriate place to post.
Part One.
I don't own the characters of Diagnosis Murder. I just borrow them from time to time and then send them home. The only profit made from this story is the joy that I get from writing it.
What happens when you've been up for the last 36 hours and all you want to do is go to bed and sleep, but your neighbors have other plans for you.
Part One
Steve wearily made his way up the steps to the front door of the Beach House. He could almost feel the comfort of his own bed. It seemed like a week ago he had climbed out and headed for work. In reallity it had only been 36 hours straight but he was running on fumes and he was ready to crash. Once inside he spied his father sitting at the dinning room table sipping a cup of coffee. He made his way towards the kitchen looking for a glass of orange juice he hoped might be available.
When Mark looked up what he saw made his heart jump in his chest. There was his son looking like he had been drug behind a fast moving vehicle. Steve's clothes were both torn and dirty. His face was smudged with dirt and there were a few scratches and a good size bruise coming up on the right side of his face. His hair was not it's usual, 'neat, every hair in place' style.
Mark jumped up and quickly closed the gap between him and Steve. He reached out and took his son by the arm and led him over to a chair. Once Steve had settled down Mark went to the fridge and poured out the juice and handed it to his son. There were a dozen questions just bursting at his lips but he chose to save them until his son had a chance to relax for a minute. Steve reached up gratefully for the juice and downed half the glass before he came up for air. Mark refilled the glass and sat down next to his son studying his face. Not only did Steve's face tell a tale of a hard night, but his eyes were screaming tired.
Steve could feel his father's intense gaze turning into a full blown interrogation. One he really wasn't up to at the moment. Mark seemed to sense this and instead asked his son.
"Steve do you want some breakfast. I could fix you some hot cereal of some kind."
"No dad. I think I'll just stop with the juice. I'm beat and all I want to do is go to bed." He stood up and began to make his way towards the stairs that led to his apartment below.
Mark watched as his son disappeared and went about gathering the things he would need to tend to his face. He intended to check him out thoroughly to be sure that he wasn't hiding any serious injury. Experience told him that more than likely there was more than just a few bruises and scrapes on his face to be attended too.
When he got to Steve's bedroom he heard the water running and decided to pull the covers back on his son's bed. He sat down and patiently waited for Steve to finish with his shower. While he waited he noticed the shirt that Steve had discarded on a chair nearby and went to pick it up. Mark turned the shirt over in his hand studying the condition it was in. A look of concern came across his face as he noticed there was a lot of blood on the front and several slashes that look like someone had taken a knife to it. He hadn't noticed any of this earlier because Steve and cleverly managed to hide it with his jacket. Alarmed at the condition of the shirt he quickly made his way to the bathroom intending to wait no further for Steve to finish his shower.
"Steve?" He called as he entered the steamy room.
"I'll be out in a minute dad." Steve knew his father would freak if he saw the cuts on his chest and had hoped that maybe he would have been able to cover them up with a tee shirt before his dad came to check on him.
"No son. I'm opening the shower door now. I want to see how bad the injuries are to your chest." He was firm and determined in his desire to check his obstinate son out. What he saw once he had opened the shower door made him gasp. There on Steve's chest were two very angry looking gashes.
"Dad please let me finish my shower." Steve reached for the door but his dad reached to turn the water off before he could pull it shut again.
"No. You're finished now. Out." Mark was angry.
"You should have said something to me Steve when you came in. Better yet. You should have gone to the hospital and had this checked out." He handed Steve a towel as he stepped out of the shower.
"It's not that bad Dad." Steve tried to temper some of the anger he saw in Marks face. He was failing miserably.
Taking his obstinate son's arm he ushered him through the door and headed him towards the bed. "I'll be the judge of that. Sit down and let me check it out."
For the next hour Mark cleaned and bandaged several cuts, gashes and scrapes that he found on his son's body. He stopped counting once he got past his chest. There were three fairly large bruises on his back wear it looked like some one had kicked him or punched him repeatedly. After a continuous lecture and all the pain he regretfully had managed to inflict on his son, Mark gave Steve strict orders to get into bed and get some much needed sleep.
"I expect you to be asleep when I get back from the hospital this afternoon. I should be home around two o'clock and the only sound I want to hear is you snoring. No TV, no phone, no radio. Just snoring." Mark pinned Steve with a parental glare that he hadn't seen in quite awhile.
"I promise Dad. I'm too tired to do anything else. I'll be sound asleep the rest of the day. Now go on to the hospital and torture someone else. I've had enough for one day." To emphasize his point Steve laid down pulling the covers up to his neck and turning over onto his side shutting his eyes.
Mark stood and watched his son for a moment and after he was sure that Steve was well on his way to sleep he made his way up stairs to gather his jacket and keys. He wasn't sure why but for some reason he wasn't sure if he trusted his son to stay in bed. But the way Steve looked when he left made him realize that he was probably too tired and sore to get into any trouble. He pushed the little niggling thought to the back of his mind and continued on to the hospital.
Steve had probably not been to sleep more than twenty minutes when he heard a sound that brought him back to the surface. He was so groggy that it took him a couple of minutes to realize that the insistent pounding that he heard was someone knocking on his patio door. He raised up and looked over to where the drapes had been pulled part way and realized that a small woman was frantically beating on the glass trying to get his attention. He stumbled from the bed and made his way over to the door opening it slightly. He peeked out to see who it was and what was so important. There stood the lady from down the street, all five feet of her, frantic and insistent.
"Steven please help me. Prudence has climbed up in the tree again and she is too scared to come down. That nasty little poodle of Mrs. Haggleman has chased her again. She is so scarred. Please hurry." Before Steve could even say a word or get his shoes he was being pulled out the door and down the beach to Mrs. Montgomery's house.
Steve rubbed at his eyes as he stumbled behind her trying to understand the flow of chatter that seemed to be spilling out of her mouth with out her even taking a breath. Once they reached the side of the house where the tree stood he had managed to wake up enough to think about the task ahead of him.
He grabbed the lowest branch on the tree and heaved himself up to it standing close to the trunk. He then grabbed the next branch and after placing his foot on the trunk he once again heaved himself up to the next branch. He had done this several times since Prudence the cat and Sweety the poodle seemed to always be at each other's throats. The end results were always the same. Prudence would climb to the middle of the tree crouching and hiding, unable to climb down later when Sweety had tired of antagonizing the fluffy ball of gray fur.
Steve braced himself for what he knew would happen next. He reached up to grab the cat. She hissed and leaped onto his shoulder digging her claws into his skin. He bit back a few choice words and phrases and began to slowly make his way back down the tree. Once he managed to make it back to the ground he pulled the cat from his shoulders and handed her to Mrs. Montgomery. When he extracted the cat from his body he was sure he had a whole new set of gashes to go along with the previous set.
"Oh thank you honey. I don't know what we would do without you. Would we Prudence?" Using that voice that people often do while talking to babies she continued to scold her cat for running up the tree.
"Don't worry about it. I'm always happy to help out Mrs. Montgomery. But if there isn't anything else I think I'll go back home and get to bed. I was up late last night." Steve turned to wearily make his way back to the beach house when Mrs. Montgomery reached up and pulled the front of his tee shirt causing Steve to bend forward a little. She planted a wet kiss on his cheek.
"You are such a good boy Steven. You always have been. Now scoot along with you. We'll see you later." With that Mrs. Montgomery made her way back inside her own house fussing at the cat the whole time.
Once Steve got inside the beach house he decided to get something to drink. He just left the little kitchen in his apartment when the phone rang. His first thought was that it was his dad calling to see if he was in bed asleep. He chided himself for that one, realizing that his dad would never call to see if he were asleep. "Not to swift when you're tired are you Sloan." He said to himself as he picked up the phone.
"Steve, I noticed your truck in the drive way. Are you busy boy?" It was Mr. Peterman. He was deaf in his right ear and for some reason he insisted on using that ear to listen on the phone with. So he never heard Steve try to explain that he was getting some much needed sleep.
I need you to take me to the pharmacy to get my medicine. That dang delivery boy of theirs is out sick again. I'll be waiting out front for you when you pick me up. I sure appreciate it boy." Mr. Peterman hung up the phone not ever hearing Steve trying to explain he was trying to get to bed.
Sighing, Steve found his jeans and he quickly changed from the sweat pants and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes. He grabbed his keys and headed for his truck. If his dad ever found out that he wasn't in bed he would be nailed to the wall.
Sure enough when Steve pulled up in front of Mr. Peterman's house the old gentleman was standing out front waiting. Steve got out of his truck to help the older man in. Mr. Peterman used a cane and in the process of trying to get into the seat he managed to hit Steve in the head with it two or three times.
All the way to the pharmacy the old gentleman kept up a steady flow of chatter. Steve glanced at the old man out of the corner of his eye wondering how the old man managed to breath since he never stopped talking. It was only about a fifteen minute drive to the pharmacy but in that short span Steve had learned why he was on two kinds of blood pressure medication, and what he had to do about the fungus on his right foot. That was actually more information than Steve cared to know.
Once he parked the car Steve got out and helped Mr. Peterman out of the truck and decided to escort him inside in hopes of keeping him focused on the mission at hand. It seemed that Mr. Peterman knew everybody in Malibu. Every one they passed he had to stop and chat with them for a few minutes.
After about the fifth person Steve made his way up to the counter and asked the clerk for Mr. Peterman's medication. The clerk looked at Steve warily and was reluctant to hand over the sack of pills until Steve showed him Mr. Perterman and his ID. He paid for the medicine himself and started making his way back to the older gentleman. Taking his arm he gently began maneuvering Mr. Peterman towards the door.
"Steve wait I got to get my medicine." Mr. Peterman protested.
"I already have it." Steve said holding up the sack as he proceeded towards the door.
"I need to pay for it." Said Mr. Peterman, once again applying the brakes trying to go back to the counter.
"I already paid for it Mr. Peterman." Steve took a firmer hold on his neighbor trying to coax him out the door.
"Did you get my Senior Citizen discount boy." The old man apparently was not going to go quietly.
"Yes Mr. Peterman. I got the discount." Steve was doing his best to maintain his patience.
Once Steve got Mr. Peterman back inside the truck he felt he had a good chance in getting them back home before it was discovered he was not where he was suppose to be. But unfortunately Mr. Peterman had other ideas.
"Steve let's stop at that little market across from Harry's Gas Station. I want to get some of those little peanut bars that his wife makes. You can't get them anywhere else you know. His wife makes em. They are some of the best peanut candy I have ever tasted. You won't find a better piece of candy anywhere in this state. I always keep about five of them in the house at all times. I never know when I just might want one so I always just keep them in the house. You can't get them anywhere else. His own wife makes 'em herself. Did I mention that already." Steve never heard anyone who could talk nonstop and say the same thing over and over the way Mr. Peterman could.
Steve pulled up in front of the little market and once again helped Mr. Peterman from the truck just barely missing the cane that seemed to circle his head every time he helped the older gentleman from his truck. Once inside Mr. Peterman once again went into his little speech about the peanut bars to the clerk behind the counter. Steve tried to stand patiently while Mr. Peterman made his purchase and continued to prattle on.
I want six of them bars. I always keep five at the house but I want to get one for the young man over here. He has been real handy to take me on my errands today. Yes sir this is Dr. Sloan's boy. Ain't he a dandy?" Mr. Peterman beemed up at Steve with pride.
Steve could feel his face blushing while Mr. Peterman gathered his purchase and continued his nonstop monologue. Once again he helped the old man into the truck trying to avoid the cane. Unfortunately he wasn't quick enough when Mr. Peterman made a sudden turn catching Steve on the left ear. Shaking it off Steve made his way to the other side of the truck with just one goal in mind. Get Mr. Peterman home and safe before he could think of any where else he wanted Steve to take him.
Fortunately Mr. Peterman seemed to be through with his little field trip and even though he continued to talk nonstop Steve was able to get him home in record time. Once again he jumped out to help his neighbor out of the truck. This time he managed to avoid any accidents with the cane. He walked Mr. Peterman to his door and just as he was about to leave, the old gentleman stopped him.
"Here boy. I bought you one of these peanut bars. They are the best you will ever eat. Now don't eat that until after your supper. I don't want you spoiling your appetite on this candy. Did I mention that his wife makes em." Mr. Peterman seemed to be off again on one of his stories.
Steve could see the door shutting on his escape if he didn't do something quick. With the risk of probably sounding rude he plunged in and quickly explained to the old man.
"Mr. Peterman if I don't get home and get to bed soon my dads going to find out and then he's going to tie me to the bed. He wasn't real happy about the shape I came home in anyway. So if you don't mind I better get home before he finds out I'm not in bed. Thanks for the candy. Bye." With that Steve turned towards his truck and all but ran to escape the old man before he could reply.
Once Steve managed to pull up in front of the house again he was feeling really tired. He decided to go around to the back and enter from his own entrance instead of jogging up the steps that led to the front door of the beach house. Maybe this way he could get inside and turn the phone off and get to bed.
He was about to put his key into the lock when he thought he heard someone crying. It was a quiet sob and didn't sound like it was very far away. He turned and looked at the fence that separated their yard from the beach. By a row of bushes he could just make out a little figure dressed in blue. He cautiously walked over to investigate and when he pulled the bushes back he was surprised at what he found. There sitting in the sand was a little girl who looked like she was about four years old. She was crying into her hands and Steve reached down and picked her up hugging her to him. He carried her over to a lawn chair and sat down with her letting her cry for a minute while he tried to sooth her. Eventually she stopped with the tears and Steve smiled at her wiping her face with the tail of his tee shirt.
"What's your name honey?" He asked.
She barely answered above a whisper. "Emily."
"Emily. That's a pretty name. My name is Steve. Emily do you live around here." Steve doubted it since he had never seen the little girl before on the beach.
Emily shook her head no and looked as if she were about to cry again. Steve wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently once again soothing her.
"Emily do you know where your mommy is?" Once again the little girl looked distressed and tears started to fall down her face.
"Sshh. Don't cry sweety. Did you loose your mommy?" This time the little girl nodded her head.
"She told me not to walk to far from Grandma's house. I didn't mean too. I saw a puppy and I started to chase him. When I looked up I didn't know where I was. Now I can't find my Grandma's house. I'm scared." She began to cry again breaking Steve's heart.
Steve had a soft spot for kids and older people and he hated to see them in any kind of distress. Besides the cop in him kept him in protect and serve mode all the time. He gathered her up and stood with her, making his way to the beach.
"Do you remember which way you came from honey?" He asked the little girl.
Emily nodded her head yes and pointed towards the left. Steve carried her and trudged up the beach in search of what he hoped were some frantic adults who might have realized that something was missing by now.
For the next ten minutes Steve walked with Emily in his arms stopping occasionally to ask if anyone recognized the little girl. It seemed that Emily must have ran for quite awhile. Suddenly up ahead he saw two women who looked like they were searching for someone or something. Emily recognized them and began to wiggle in Steve's arms wanting to get down and run towards the two.
"Mommy, Mommy." She cried as Steve sat her on her feet. She immediately ran practically jumping into the younger woman's arms.
"Oh thank goodness. Emily I was so scared. Honey what happened to you." Mom was hugging and kissing her squirming little girl with tears running down her face.
"I'm sorry Mommy. I didn't mean to run away. I was chasing the puppy and when I looked up you and Grandma were gone. I couldn't find Grandma's house." Emily was crying again still frightened at what had happened.
Just then Emily's Grandmother stepped towards Steve. "Thanks Steve. I don't know how you found her but thank goodness you did."
"Don't mention it Mrs. Davis. Actually I think she found me. It didn't take us long to find you." Steve smiled at the older woman.
"I should have known it would be you to the rescue. Anyway let me introduce you to my daughter-in-law Nancy. She's David's wife. They are here visiting for a couple of weeks."
Steve stepped forward to shake hands with her. "It's nice to meet you Nancy."
Shaking his hand she replied. "It's nice to meet you too. And thank you so much for bringing Emily back. I was so worried."
"I'm glad I could help." Steve said.
"Steve here is a detective with the LAPD. He and his dad live down the beach a ways." Looking over at her granddaughter she added. "You did go a ways down the beach. Steve's dad is the Head of Internal Medicine at Community General Hospital. Which by the looks of you young man is a good thing. Has your dad looked at you lately? You look like you were in a fight and lost." Said Mrs. Davis while advancing towards the young detective.
Backing up a step he replied. "He saw me this morning. I got a first rate lecture and orders to go to bed and stay there. Which is where I better head before he finds out that I'm not following his orders." Nodding his head towards Emily and her mom he added. "It was very nice to meet the two of you. I hope Emily that maybe I will see you soon. Maybe your mom will let me take you out on my surf board for a ride while your here."
"Oh Mommy please. Can I please." Emily seemed to have forgotten about her traumatic experience already.
While laughing at her daughter, Nancy reluctantly said. "Well we'll see. We don't want to impose any further on Steve."
"It would be my pleasure. It'll take me a couple of days to convince my dad that I'm ok but he usually comes around eventually. I'll check back with you towards the end of the week. Bye." Waving at the three females Steve then tuned and started making his way back towards his bed.