Part 2:
Jesse and Amanda stood at the nurse's station, both looking over a chart and talking. Mark entered the busy ER and made his way over to his friends.
"Mark," Amanda said. "What are you doing here?"
"Yeah," Jesse said. "I thought you weren't due back until tomorrow."
"I am."
"Then what are you doing here?" Amanda asked.
"I'm looking for my son," Mark replied.
"Steve," Jesse said. "Wasn't he at the airport to pick you up?"
"No," Mark answered. "I ended up taking a taxi here."
Jesse and Amanda just looked at each other.
"Either of you wouldn't happen to know where he might be?" Mark asked.
"Well he told us yesterday that he was due to testify on a case in court today," Amanda answered.
"Ah yes," Mark said. "I forgot the Torres trial was starting this week."
"Maybe that's where he is," Jesse said.
"Probably," Mark replied. "I tried to get him on his cell phone and it went directly to voice mail. Either of you wouldn't happen to be getting off any time soon would you?"
"I just started my shift," Amanda answered.
"I still have another eight hours on mine," Jesse replied. "But if you want I can take my lunch now and take you home."
"No," Mark said. "I don't want you to use your lunch hour for that. I'll just go to my office and see what kind of paper work has piled up since I was gone."
Mark turned to head towards his office when he spotted Steve's partner Cheryl Banks enter the ER.
"Doctor Sloan," she said as she walked up to the group.
"Cheryl, what brings you here?" Mark asked, his stomach started to knot up as he waited for her answer.
"Captain Newman sent me here looking for Steve," she answered. "We got a call from the courthouse and they are ready for his testimony. I already went by the beach house and when I saw no one was home, I came here figuring he got caught up with you after picking you up at the airport."
Mark began to worry. "Cheryl, he never picked me up at the airport."
"He didn't?"
"Maybe someone from the courthouse got a hold of Steve," Amanda began. "And he's there right now."
"Well we did try to reach him on his cell phone with no luck," Cheryl said.
"So maybe he's already there," Jesse stated.
"Yeah maybe, I'm going to head down there and make sure he's there," Cheryl replied. "I'll make sure he gives you a call Doctor Sloan." She turned to walk away.
"Cheryl," Mark called out.
Cheryl turned around to look at him. "Yes, Doctor Sloan."
"Do you mind if I come with you?" he asked.
Cheryl smiled. "Not at all."
"Let us know what happens," Amanda said.
"I will," Mark replied and joined Cheryl.
Amanda and Jesse watched the two walk out of the ER.
"I'm sure everything fine," Jesse said with a wry smile.
"Yeah, I'm sure your right," Amanda replied.
Inside the courthouse, Assistant District Attorney Sharon Ellison sat at the prosecution's table waiting for the judge to return from his chambers. Goddamn it, where the hell is he?
Over at the defense table, defense attorney Michael Goodwin, a middle aged, well dressed man with salt and pepper hair, sat closely to his dark haired client, Rolando Torres.
"So our plan has been initiated?" Torres asked, whispering.
"Got the call at lunch, everything is in place at the house," Goodwin answered.
"Good."
At that moment, the door to the judge's chambers opened and the bailiff came out. "Everyone please rise for the honorable Judge Frank Thompson."
Judge Thompson walked out of his chambers towards his seat behind the bench.
"Ms. Ellison, has your witness arrived?" he asked, sitting down in his seat.
Ellison looked behind her one last time. Taking a deep breath, she then turned back to face the judge. "No, Your Honor."
The crowd began to whisper and stir. Judge Thompson banged his gavel on the block.
"Order in this court! I will have silence in my court room."
"Your Honor," Ellison began. "In light of what has happened and until I'm able to investigate why my witness hasn't shown up today, I respectfully request that the court postpone the rest of this trial until tomorrow."
Jumping up from his seat and pointing an accusing finger at Ellison, Goodwin protested. "I object! I move for immediate mistrial. What's to say whether the witness of hers will show up tomorrow or the next day or the next?"
"Your Honor, can we approach the bench?" Ellison asked.
The judge motioned for both attorneys to come forward.
Approaching the bench, Ellison lowered her voice to speak with the judge. "I guarantee that he will show up tomorrow, Your Honor."
Goodwin lowered his voice once he began talking with the judge. "Your Honor, the prosecution guaranteed that the witness would show up today, didn't he? The defense moves again for a mistrial."
Judge Thompson looked at both attorneys.
"Wasn't this witness supposed to be your last one?"
"Yes, Your Honor, he was."
"And you guaranteed him being here today when you put him on your witness list, did you not?"
"Yes, sir, I did; but…"
"No buts, Ms. Ellison. You either rest your case now and send it to the jury or I will declare a mistrial."
"Your Honor, without this detective's testimony to corroborate with Lieutenant Cheryl Banks testimony from yesterday, the prosecution has no case. Please give me one more day to find out what's going on."
"Haven't we been at this long enough, Your Honor?" Goodwin complained. "Three weeks to be on trial for a drug charge is a bit much, don't you think?"
"I will grant Ms. Ellison's request to postpone this trial for one day."
"Your Honor!" Goodwin cried out.
"One day, counselor," Thompson repeated. "And I want your witness here tomorrow at nine sharp. If he's not present, I'll have no choice except to declare a mistrial." He struck his gavel on the block. "Court's adjourned until nine tomorrow morning."
The courtroom began to empty out. Goodwin returned to the defense table, sitting down next to Torres.
"I thought you were going to get me off today!" Torres hissed
"So you have to wait in jail one more day," Goodwin whispered. "You'll be out tomorrow morning; Lieutenant Sloan will not be showing up."
The bailiff approached the table, motioning that it was time to take the prisoner back to his cell.
Torres whispered to his lawyer, "You'll go to the house and take care of things?"
"I will."
Torres got up and walked away with the bailiff. Standing up to leave, Goodwin looked over at Ellison and smiled; closing his briefcase, he turned and walked away.
Cheryl and Mark entered into the courtroom, passing Goodwin in the aisle as they walked over to Ellison.
The A.D.A. slammed her briefcase shut and turned to face her. "Where the hell is your partner? Do you know that he almost cause this case to be a mistrial today?"
Cheryl hesitated, momentarily taken aback by Ellison's angry accusation.
"You tell him if he doesn't show up tomorrow, this case is over and Rolando Torres goes free. And if that happens, I'll make sure that Lieutenant Sloan loses his badge."
Ellison turned to walk away.
Cheryl grabbed her by the arm. "Wait just a minute, I don't know where Steve is; I was hoping that he was here."
"And he never showed up to pick me up," Mark stated.
"What do you mean, you don't know where he is?"
"As far as we knew at the station, Steve was going to pick up his dad at the airport and then come here to testify."
Before Ellison could answer, Cheryl's cellular phone rang. She took it off her belt and flipped it open. "Banks…. Yes Capt… What?" She looked at Mark and Ellison. "Okay, I'll be right there."
"What was that all about?" Mark asked afraid of what the answer was going to be.
Cheryl frowned. "Captain Newman found Steve's truck."
"Where?"
"In the parking lot of the airport."
"I'll follow in my car," Ellison said, grabbing her briefcase. "Let's go." She followed them out of the courtroom.
Steve heard the muffled voices as he began to regain consciousness. The first thing he realized besides the dull ache in his head, was that he was sitting in a chair, his hands tied behind his back.
Opening his eyes, he flinched at the bright light shining into his face. He immediately shut them again.
"Nice of you to join us, Lieutenant Sloan."
Steve opened his eyes more slowly this time, squinting against the brightness. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"All in good time, Lieutenant Sloan." The voice came from behind the light. "You'll find out what's going on, all in good time."
Steve swallowed against the lump in his throat. He was scared, but he couldn't let his captors know. Taking a deep breath, he tried calming himself. "Well, since it seems I'm not going anywhere, I think I have the right to know what's happening to me."
"You have no rights here, Lieutenant. Sloan."
Steve heard the door to the room open and the sound of footsteps coming across the floor. The voices behind the light began to whisper.
"Hey! You want to fill me in?"
The whispering stopped. Steve strained to see beyond the bright light, but all he saw was a figure moving in the shadows. Sensing someone behind him, he tensed, waiting for what was to come next. He felt his hands being untied, but before he could even make a move, he felt strong hands grab his arms. He struggled against them, but their grips only tightened more.
"What do you want from me?"
"You haven't figured it out yet, Lieutenant Sloan?" And you're supposed to be on to the top homicide detectives in L.A."
Steve swallowed hard. "Yeah well, you guys are going to be doing hard time when the police…"
"Wrong again, Lieutenant Sloan. You can yell for help all you want; no one is going to hear you, and no one is going to find this place."
Steve shifted uneasily against the sets of hands that held him in place.
"Roll up his sleeve."
Steve felt his sleeve being unbuttoned and rolled up. He looked towards the figure that was behind the light; he caught a glimpse of the face.
Jesus Christ, Goodwin.
Steve watched him come from behind the light; there was something in his hand. Once he came closer, Steve saw it was a syringe. He struggled to pull away, without success.
Tying a tourniquet around Steve's upper arm, Goodwin smiled. "Just relax, Lieutenant Sloan. You'll feel a pin prick and then after that, the most wonderful feeling of euphoria you'll ever experience." He laughed and brought the needle to Steve's arm.
Steve could hear his heart pounding in his chest and wondered if his captors could as well. He felt the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. What the hell is he giving me?
He watched in horror as the need was stuck into his arm and the contents injected into his vein.