Gotcha (Reworked)
The pathology lab of Community General Hospital was never what one would call a warm or welcoming place. A corpse lay on a cold, steel table. The smell of disinfectant and formaldehyde was faint but unpleasant. Amanda Bentley, chief pathologist and county medical examiner, hummed a little tune despite her surroundings. She had only one autopsy scheduled for today: a Mr. Smithsone whose death was under investigation by th LAPD. As soon as she was finished, she would be free to go home and spend time with her two adorably energetic children. She even had the next day off and had decided to take the kids on a special excursion to the zoo.
Little did Amanda know that Jesse would have the day off too and ask to come along. Little did she know that Steve and Mark would take some time off work just so they could spend some quality time together as a big, makeshift family. And little did she know that the seemingly harmless trip to a fun, safe place like the Redwood Zoo would get them all involved in a long, dangerous murder scheme.
The following day, the entire group arrived as planned at the zoo. They were two hours later than they would have like to have been, in part because of CJ's insistence on pancakes for breakfast and in part because of Steve's insistence that getting directions from strangers when lost is unnecessary.
Upon entering the zoo and stopping for lunch at a poor-quality, overpriced restaurant, they only saw a few animals that weren't either asleep or off-exhibit. The entire experience was continually interrupted by either Jesse or one of the kids begging to use the restroom, to get a drink, to rest, to use the restroom again. Nevertheless they made their way around the relatively small zoo, admiring the animal exhibits, even the ones without visible animals. They were near the red kangaroos when the group spotted the same a couple of lanky teenagers holding a scary-looking reptiles.
CJ and Dion looked amazed when they saw the strange animals and were beside themselves with excitement when a girl, one of the zoo volunteers who couldn't have been older than 14, asked them if they wanted to pet an alligator.
"Oh wow!" squeaked CJ as he ran over to stare into the black, beady eyes of the reptile. "I've never touched a real, live allergator before! This is so cool!"
CJ and Dion and even Jesse stroked the dry, scaly skin for quite some time. Amanda stood ready and at a far distance with a convenient bottle of hand sanitizer. Mark and Steve opted out of touching the animals as well. The whole group almost managed to leave the area before an unfortunate event occurred that would cause them to become involved in the story of the two lanky teenagers holding the scary-looking reptiles.
Just as the kids and Jesse had finished rubbing their hands with the smelly alcohol sanitizer that Amanda had forced on them and were moving on to another region, a high-pitched shriek came from the area they were leaving. Everyone whipped around at the scream and was utterly shocked to find an enraged guest seemingly trying to strangle the teenage volunteer with the girl's own lanyard.
"You terrible, horrible young lady!" the guest bellowed, shaking the girl's head back in forth with the lanyard meant to display a name badge. "How you can treat a poor creature like that is beyond me! Why, that poor animal is being shown off like this is some kind of third rate circus! I'll have you know I won't stand for this!"
Instinctively, and after recovering from the shock of it all, Steve ran up and hurriedly identified himself with the LAPD, before firmly grabbing the hands of the guest who was choking the girl. The guest was a stout, very bossy-looking, and overbearing woman. She grudgingly let him separate the two and stormed off, but not before delivering a mighty kick to the teenager's ankle with a high heeled shoe.
Thus began a very chaotic chain of events. The girl let out a sharp yelp of pain and grabbed her left ankle in her hands, hopping up and down. The alligator fell out of her hands, looking terrified, and landed on the ground right-side-up. It remained perfectly still as if in shock before scurrying away as fast as its stubby legs could carry it. CJ and Dion bolted towards the alligator, laughing, trying to pick the poor creature up. Amanda, horrified, tried in vain to stop her kids from chasing the reptile lest they get bitten in the process. The other teenager, herself holding a lizard, ran off somewhere to get someone to help catch the alligator. Mark and Jesse went to make sure the girl was all right.
"Are you going to want to file charges?" Steve asked flatly after the commotion had died down and both reptiles were safely put away.
His question was answered with exasperated stares and an awkward silence.
"I've never seen that lady before," the teenage girl said, "and I never want to see her again. Just pretend it didn't happen."
After a quick examination, Mark concluded that the teenager's ankle was fine and advised her to stay off of it for a few says and to apply a cold compress.
The teenagers, identified as Katie and Rob by their volunteer name badges, left the group to finish their day at the park and the strange events were promptly put aside. Mark and the rest of the group had no clue that they would ever see the two teenagers again. They were wrong.
A few days later, Jesse's jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he saw the same two teenagers walking into the ER at two in the morning, clearly distressed, right after an unconscious woman on a gurney. Jesse put the teens out of his mind temporarily and ran up to meet the gurney.
"What've we got?" Jesse asked quickly.
the paramedics supplied the necessary information as he worked. "45 year old man, car crash victim. He's got severe head trauma and is in acute respiratory distress..."
The ER team disappeared behind the doors of Trauma 1 and reappeared less than half an hour later. Jesse emerged, his bright blue scrubs flecked with blood, his face grim, and his eyes dimmed with disappointment. He sighed and approached the only two people in the waiting room, the two zoo volunteers that Jesse had never expected to meet again.
Jesse cleared his throat to get their attention. "You came in with Mr. Valentine?" he prodded.
The girl looked up hopefully. The boy next to her squeezed her hand gently. "We're his stepchildren. How is he? He's all right, isn't he?"
Jesse glanced at the floor, loathing the task of delivering bad news to family members. He gathered up courage and looked the two square in the eye. "He didn't make it. I'm very sorry."
The girl broke down in uncontrollable sobs. The boy tried to comfort her, tears of his own pooling in his eyes. Jesse watched on sadly, unable to think of anything to say that would help the situation. After expressing his condolences, Jesse politely excused himself and left with the intention of going to talk with Mark.
"Doctor Travis!" a voice from Trauma 1 startled Jesse out of his thoughts. "You better come and look at this."
A pretty blond nurse held up a small note for Jesse to take. Glancing over it, Jesse's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. "What have we gotten ourselves into?" Jesse groaned quietly.
The nurse took the piece of paper back and added helpfully, "We've already called the police to investigate. I just thought you would want to know."
Without even realizing what he was doing, Jesse grabbed the note back and walked as fast as possible to Mark's office, leaving a stunned and flustered nurse to stare after him. He reread the note as he walked, 'Next time, it'll be the young ones. Signed T.S.'
Jesse had the good fortune to run into Mark on the way upstairs. Without even greeting the older doctor, Jesse shoved the note in Mark's face.
"I think I've just found you and Steve a new murder case," Jesse said dryly.
Mark was understandably confused. Reading the note that was so rudely forced on him didn't make anything clearer. "What on earth are you talking about, Jesse?" Mark asked politely, shifting the patient files in his arm to a more comfortable position.
Jesse merely pointed his arm in the direction of the ER. "Go see for yourself. And call Steve." With that the two doctors headed back to the ER.
Upon hearing the story of the teenagers, Katie and Rob, Mark was disturbed. He began to doubt that the incident in the park was a coincidence. Somehow, he felt partly responsible for their predicament because he had witnessed the strange attack at the zoo and had not pursued the attacker as anything more than a radical animal rights' activist.
Concern, guilt, and curiosity led Mark to insist that the teenagers stay at his beach house for a while for protection, at least until their mother returned from some luxury cruise she had won in a contest. The teenagers insisted that Mark not tell their mother about her husband's death and thus cut short her vacation, mostly because they feared for her safety and figured she would be better off as far away form Los Angeles as possible.
A police investigation revealed a day later that Mr. Valentine's breaks had been tampered with, and a full-blown homicide investigation got underway.
Mark Sloan strolled down the corridors of Community General the same day, whistling a cheery tune. The halls were relatively empty, everything was quiet and peaceful. Mark passed by an open closet without really considering the oddity that someone would leave the door open to a storage room. With absolutely zero warning, he was grabbed from behind and pulled mercilessly into a storage closet. A gloved hand enveloped his mouth, while another held his neck in a tight, restraining grip.
"Where is she!?" a woman's voice hissed.
"Wohfh," Mark mumbled helplessly.
The figure uncovered his mouth, while still clinging tightly to the older man's neck.
"Where is she!?" the woman spoke again with more conviction. Her eyes glimmered with deadly passion.
"Who?" Mark's hands struggled with the woman's to let him get more air.
"Don't play smart, Doctor Sloan! The Smithsone kids! Where are they?!!"
Mark's eyes lit up with recognition of the last name Smithsone.
"Smithsone?"
"As I recall, the brats went by their stepfather's name- Valentine. But to me they will always be Smithsones. Kids of their worthless mother. Now, are you going to tell me where she is or do I have to kill you and find out another way?"
"The girl's a patient, and her brother is with her. Room 403."
The woman smiled sweetly and replied in mock kindness, "Thank you, Doctor. You made the right decision."
With that, she let go of her offensive grip and turned to leave, as Mark gingerly held his neck and took in a few deep breaths.
"Oh, and, Doctor Sloan?" she added, "if you're lying to me, I will hunt you down and kill you and your family."
Mark was silent, but his glare was sinister, to say the least. The threat on his son's and friends' lives were meant to make him break down and make him give up, but only succeeded in making him irate and furious.
As soon as she left, Mark whipped out his cell phone and, still in the cramped closet, dialed Steve's cell number.
"Steve. You're in the hospital, right? ... Good. Go to room 403 now!! Make it look like someone's in the bed. If you play your cards right, you might just catch a murderer. And, Steve, hurry!"
Puzzled and very alarmed at his father's short and urgent message, Steve bolted through the halls, ignoring the disapproving looks of the hospital staff. He ran into room 403 and was partially glad, yet somewhat surprised to find no one there.
Remembering his what he was supposed to do, Steve quickly stuffed a couple of large pillows under the rigid blankets of the bed and knelt down behind it.
Within a couple minutes, Steve spotted a woman surreptitiously sneaking into the room, a gun trained at the bed. She shot twice, aiming at the lump in the bed. Feathers whirled around the air.
Instantaneously rising from his position, Steve whisked his gun out of its holster and pointed it at the ready to flee assailant.
"Freeze! LAPD! Drop the gun!"
"Well, well, well," the gun shifted towards Steve's chest, "Haven't I had the displeasure of meeting you before?"
"You were the crazy PETA lady at the zoo?" Steve asked incredulously. "What on earth do you think you're doing? You're the most psychotic killer I've seen in a long time."
"Shut up. Someone like you has no idea what I'm accomplishing in the larger picture." The woman smiled a cat's smile. At that moment, a high-pitched thud resounded. Glass broke. A bullet pierced through the woman's heart and exited her back before she even hit the ground. Stunned momentarily by this strange twist of kismet, Steve recovered himself and instinctively checked for a pulse on the body that now lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, knowing that there would not be one. He tore to the window, searching for a sniper, but only saw a few pigeons pecking at the rooftops and the smog of the city.
A few days later, Amanda finished her autopsy report on the woman. Christina Wellman, mother of two, unmarried. Nothing interesting or special. Steve's criminal file on the woman was also a dull as could be imagined. The only history she had in crime was two unpaid parking tickets and a ticket for speeding, all years apart. What bugged Mark the most was that the woman's initials did not match the initials on the note from the killer. Mark assumed that the sniper that had killed her must be the real killer of Mr. Valentine.
The LAPD's efforts were concentrated on finding the identity of the sniper. The police got lucky. The shooter had been sloppy, left evidence, and was identified by a video camera as having entered the apartment building across the street less than an hour before the murder. It was a thin woman whom the landlord and never seen before, and she was carrying an odd-looking suitcase. Her photograph was matched to a police file. Stupidly enough, the same type of rifle used to commit the murder was registered in her name. This was the undisputed murderer, Theresa Rumen.
Steve was happy. The murderer was stupid. The LAPD had been staking out her apartment. It was only a matter of time before she would show up and everything would go back to normal. Or so he thought.