AMANDA'S SECRET PASSION PART III
STORY BY Iona Yeager
Inspired By The CBS Series Diagnosis Murder
Warning to fans: Rated PG 13 for language, mild sex, and violent
situations
Disclaimer: The author recognizes that Diagnosis Murder and the
Characters are the property CBS. This story was intended for fan
fun and enjoyment on the DM Challenge page only and is not
available for sale or distribution for profit unless through
written permission of CBS and the producers of Diagnosis Murder.
-1-
"Stupid morons," Jonathan Warren swore jamming the
remote towards the television. No matter how many times he
rewound it, the dance sequence was still a paltry five minutes.
"If they stuck some anorexic bitch next to Gregory Hines or
Baryshinkov they would have danced the entire movie."
It wasn't that Jonathan didn't like women. He like women just
fine for sex, cooking, and cleaning. They could even be doctors
and nurses. Sometimes choreography called for a prop for the
dancer to toss around. But it was men who were made to dance. No
bumps on the chest, nor round pouty behinds to disturb the line
of the bodies.
"Look at that-" he pointed to the huge television
screen where Gregory Hines and
Mikhail Baryshinkov danced for their lives.
He pressed rewind again, pause, then started the video again,
this time dancing in perfect harmony with the two men.
"I hate admit this, but he's really good," Amanda
commented to Janine Gooding, Jonathan's first known victim.
Jonathan nearly tore the woman's womb out in his frenzy. She
looked fine now, Amanda thought. The filmy lilac thingy she wore
was divine.
"You should see his Balanchine imitation."
"I thought I was doing the right thing," Jonathan's
father sat between the five women and two men. He was truly
Jonathan's first victim, although the police believed the lawyer
had been mugged. "I didn't mind his dancing. I didn't mind
his drawings. I was proud of his talent. I mean some of the best
art is a little dark, don't you think?"
"I hear a big but in coming here."
"We thought we did something wrong. Who knew anything about
mental illness back then? It's was always: blame mother, blame
father."
"Schizophrenic disorder?" Victim number three, Angela
Moore asked. "Dance therapist." She explained when
Amanda regarded her with surprise.
"Hmmm. And he was never treated?" Amanda asked. Mr.
Warren nodded. "Then he believes--"
-2-
"--more in his delusions than he does any thread of
reality." Kathryn closed the file on the pictures of Angela
Moore and Janine Gooding with reverence. Collins could have sworn
she had not looked at the gruesome photos, but who cared. Kathryn
-whatever she said her last name was- was the most beautiful FBI
or CIA agent he had ever seen. Sloan moved fast. Sweet little
Doctor Bentley was not dead yet and Steve had snagged the hottest
number on the force. He sobered, feeling Kathryn's steely blue
gray eyes on him. She glared at him with censure as if she had
read his thoughts. Kathryn continued. "This man feels angry
when rejected, but feels, always that there is some conspiracy
keeping him from his destiny. These women are somehow involved in
this conspiracy. He uses the ceremonial knife because he believes
the veneer of ritual makes the act clean, more a sacrifice, than
a murder. He can hide his anger at being rejected with a lofty
purpose."
"That's it." Peter Cheung jumped up from Steve's desk,
upsetting a cup of coffee. Barbara Harris, hovering near him
quickly mopped up the mess. Kathryn could not blame her. Peter
was a dream. "I know where I saw this guy, Steve. He's
union. He's got a portfolio."
"He's an actor?"
"Dancer, bit player. Good dancer. Damn good. Broke my heart
to turn him down but I needed a female to even out the company. I
told him to come back, even called him but he got some part time
gig Chicago. I got him in my files."
"Okay." Steve said, seemingly finally a man with a
purpose. "Barbara you go with Peter. Get those files ASAP,
then right back here. Peter, I do not want you and Druscilla on
the streets without an escort. Is there any way of finding out
what other choreographers this have turned this guy down."
"I'm willing to bet the number who turned him down are few
and far in between. Like I said he's good."
Steve nodded. Collins noted for the first time that Sloan looked
twenty years older. There was actually gray at his temples, he
was pale, and shaky.
"I'll have to get back to Community General and talk with
Amanda. She ran some test of the tissue samples to see what kind
of blade this guy uses."
The others stared silently. Kathryn placed her hands on Steve's
arm.
"Da- Detective Sloan--"
"You can call me Steve," he smiled weakly at her.
"I'll remind you of that in four or five years,"
Kathryn responded with a wry grin that matched his. "Steve,
where is Amanda?"
"She's at the hospital working on this case, which we should
be doing before this guy strikes again. And what's with that
shrink's tone, young lady?"
Kathryn made a quick gesture of dismissal to the others.
"I've got this. You guys get that ID. We meet back here in
thirty minutes." They filed out of the office. "Steve,
have you had anything to eat or drink in the last 48 hours? Any
sleep?"
"What? I don't know. Who cares? We have to get this
maniac."
"Well, I call that a big no." Kathryn sighed. Let's go,
Detective."
"What?"
"To the hospital. You want to talk with Amanda,
remember?"
-3-
"Engaged?" Mr. Bentley repeated the word as if Mark had
swore at him.
"I should have known. Friendship gets her impaled in an
elevator. Of course, engagement gets her slashed by a serial
killer. We'll bring body bags to the wedding."
"My son worships the air Amanda's breathes", Mark
returned with equal anger. "He would never let anything
happened to her."
"Really? Then why is my daughter lying at the point of death
in your ICU, Doctor? Where is he when my baby needs him?
"Uncle Keith!" Druscilla stood between the two older
men. They looked like aging boxers or some feuding patriarchs in
a Shakespearean epic. Jesse walked into the office.
"Why don't you turn on the intercom if you want everyone in
the hospital to hear how much you two respect each other?
Especially Dion and CJ."
Druscilla sighed with relief.
"Are the boys okay?"
"Mrs. Bentley is with them. They ate. They got some sleep.
But they need both of their Grandfathers calm and in charge, not
snorting at each other like a couple enraged bulls. Am I
clear?"
"As soon as Amanda gets well, I'm taking her away from you
people."
"You can't take Amanda away from me. She's my wife,"
Steve stumbled in.
He knew it. They were here to take Amanda and all his happiness
away from him. Jesse took Steve's arm, and with a deftness that
would have impressed Star Trek's Bones McCoy, gave him a quick
injection. Steve barely felt it. Kathryn and Jesse helped the big
man to Mark's chair.
"What's going on?" Mark looked down at his son.
"Did he say wife. You're married already?"
"The beach," Steve managed. He licked his lips, trying
to fight effects of the sedative. If Amanda stopped breathing,
they would take her away. They might even put her in the ground
with his mother. Everything was wrong, backwards. Amanda was in
her office, hard at work on the case. The woman in the ICU could
not be Amanda. She had promised to stay with him. "We made
vows."
"Oh, thank goodness. That's not a real marriage."
"I know someone of a little higher authority who would
disagree with you on that." Druscilla snapped. She looked
Mr. Bentley in the eyes. "Amanda is my friend. And she's
family." She smiled at her uncle and he softened, seeing
something so like his own mother in her face, it stopped his
breath. "We're family. You and I. This is the man Amanda has
chosen to love and share with him his work and all it entails,
whether we like it or not."
"But look what it's cost her. And look at him. The boy looks
near dead. What's wrong with him?"
"No sleep, no food, and a belly filled with a couple gallons
of aged caffeine for the last 50 hours. Add to that the shock of
seeing Amanda near death.
He's had a mild breakdown. I think we can get him back up and
running in a day or two." Kathryn turned to Mr. Bentley.
"You know, you two remind me of my Grandfathers. Any other
time I would think you both cute as bugs ears, but I don't have
the time to dote. And you two don't have the time to bicker. This
attack on my -- friend had nothing to do with Steve's or Amanda's
life style. This killer is a rogue, an aberration, and we will
get him. But in order for me to do my job effectively I need an
assurance from you that you will take care of my--of your
children. Both of you are going to take care of both of them. No
more head locking. Got it?"
"Like they could ever resist anything you asked," Steve
mumbled and fell asleep.
Kathryn nodded to Jesse. "Get Steve in a bed, get some
electrolytes in him and get him back on his feet. I'm more sorry
for his pain than I can say, but I need him back on the job. I
don't have long before I have to go back."
She left, leaving behind a heavenly perfume and wide open mouths.
"She reminds me of somebody, but I can't put my finger on
it," Jesse said. "Come on, Mark, lets get Steve fixed
up."
-4-
Mark, Jesse, Druscilla, Peter, and the boys attended the
engagement ceremony. It was more than a betrothal, less than a
wedding, yet they all knew the vows were as binding as the link
Steve forged in his mother's necklace as he placed it around
Amanda's throat. Night fell, and the others left Amanda and Steve
alone on the beach.
Steve and Amanda sat on the on the beach. Amanda rested against
Steve, wrapped in the quilt Steve's grandmother made some sixty
years before as a wedding present for his parents. They had not
intended to make love that night, but somewhere between planning
an extra wing to Mark's house for the boys and locating the
center of Orion's Belt they kissed. Steve could not recall if
Amanda had reached up to kiss him, or he had bent down to touch
his lips to hers.
It was not their first kiss, but he was certain she had never
before opened to him as completely. Before he realized it they
were entwined, wound together with the quilt as if a new pattern,
their mouths and hips melded together. If someone held a gun to
his head he couldn't have said whether they had be together
minutes or hours. It was nearly dawn when he woke up, his arms
and legs still joined with Amanda's, her head on his chest. He
moved, thinking they should get up before one of the neighbors or
the boys spotted them, but Amanda awoke and looked at him with
desire misted eyes, and he was lost again to time and space.
Steve stretched reaching to pull Amanda back in his arms, and
encountered cold sheets.
"Amanda--," he felt her lips, feather soft on his. He
awoke. Jesse was standing near his bed, pen and chart in hand. He
grinned.
"I won't ask you what you were dreaming about, but I'm glad
you're back with us. Do you know where you are?"
"Yeah, but what am I doing in bed--" He paused. His
expression froze with horror. "Amanda. How is she? When can
I see her?"
"Depends." Jesse regarded him coolly. "Do you
remember what happened to Amanda?"
"Yeah, I remember." Steve sat up searching for his
clothes.
"Steve. You have to tell me." Steve turned to Jesse,
his eyes blazing. Jesse continued with quiet authority. "I'm
sorry. I know you're hurting. But I can't release you unless I
know that you are cognizant of your environment."
Steve stifled an angry breath. Jesse noted his respiration
increased, and Steve noted it too. He counted to twenty. For a
moment his lips trembled, and Jesse thought sadly that Steve
looked younger and more lost than Dion when Amanda first brought
him home.
"The stalker attacked Amanda in the parking garage. She's
been critically wounded, maybe mortally. Jesse, is she going to
make it?"
It was Jesse turn to look like a lost child.
"I'm doing everything I can. You need to talk to her. Tell
her we her need to come back to us."
Steve nodded. However, nothing prepared him for the sight of
Amanda's bruised from. He could not speak, let alone say the
words Jesse wanted him to. Steve turned to his father, asking
without words how he was going to survive if Amanda did not make
it. Years of looking victims of violence had schooled him to
recognize a dying person as well as any doctor, and Amanda was
dying. He bent and kissed her, resisting with all his might the
urge to snatch up in his arms and run till they both were safe.
"I have to keep it together", Steve whispered against
her skin. "For both of us."
The younger Kathryn walked into the room although ICU had it's
capacity of visitors. She placed her hand on his shoulders.
"We got a line on the killer, Steve. Peter Cheung has come
up with a plan to trap him. Are you well enough to join us?"
"I have to stay. I have to save her," Steve explained.
"Jesse will take care of Amanda," Kathryn promised.
"Come on, We need you."
Steve bent over and kissed Amanda's forehead once more, then
turned to Jesse.
"Please save her", he asked before he left with
Kathryn.
Jesse was silent.
"Jesse, I can take over the watch." Mark said to the
young Doctor.
"No. I've got to think, look at test. And you need to get
some real sleep, or I'll be making up a room for you."
Mark patted the younger Doctor's shoulder and left. Jesse jerked
his hands through his hair, burying an irrational resentment
toward Steve, Mark, and Amanda for putting him on the line. Jesse
sat next to Amanda and for the hundredth and tenth time opened
her chart.
French walked into the room, the will in his hand.
Jesse swore.
-5-
"No way." Steve threw the file on his desk and pointed
his finger accusingly at Peter Cheung. "I promised her. I
promised Amanda I would never involve you and Druscilla in police
matters. He knows we're on to him. He's on the run. You're
telling me this guy is vain enough to show up for a call
back?"
"You don't know many show business people do you?"
Druscilla quipped. "He'll show up. And when Peter chooses me
instead of this jerk, he'll go ballistic."
"You're right, but Peter will choose me, not you Druscilla.
Two civilians on this type of setup is two too many. The only
reason we're using Peter is that Warren knows every choreographer
in town."
"No offense, Kathryn, but we need a real dancer."
"I can dance. Really." She smiled at Peter. "My
teacher's a Tony winner."
"I don't care if your teacher is Donald O'Conner."
Steve said. "I don't like you risking your life any more
than I want Druscilla risking hers."
"Look, Steve. I am a doctor, but I am also an officer of the
law. There are some risk with the job. But as my father always
says, you take the job, you take the risk, because that's what
you have to do protect and serve."
"Your father says that. Funny, it's what I always tell my
dad."
"Cops. Go figure. We all talk alike. Look, there is a mad
dog out there with money and means, who thinks the world is his
stage. If we don't move fast he's going to be terrorizing the
opera houses of Europe and we'll never find him. Now do you want
this guy or not?"
"You know, Ryn, you are just like your mother, and--"
Steve looked confused. "I don't know why I said that."
"It's okay. My father says that all the time, too."
-6-
CJ and Dion played cards with Amanda's mother.
"You're very pretty," Dion said to the older version of
his foster mother.
"You're very handsome. We're going to have to build a fence
to keep out all the little girls in Phoenix when you and CJ go
back with us?"
"We're going to visit you and Grandpa, Grandma
Bentley?"
"Maybe. You might even come and live us. Would you like
that?"
"Me too?" Dion asked.
"Of course, you too. Where else would my grandson live, but
with me?"
"Why are we living at your house? Is Mommy too sick to take
care of us?"
"I'm am praying that your mommy will be just fine. She's my
little girl and I don't want her to be-sick. But, she might not
get better. That means that you and Dion will come to live with
Grandpa Bentley and me."
"But I thought that Uncle Steve was going to be our Dad now.
Can't we stay here with him?"
Mrs. Bentley mouth tightened, but she managed a smile.
"We'll talk to Grandpa."
Mark, and the Bentleys talked quietly in Mark's office. The Truce
was about to dissolve.
"What do you mean you're taking the boys back to
Arizona?"
"It's where we live, Mark." Amanda's mother explained.
"If Amanda, God forbid doesn't make it, the boys are going
back home with us."
"You can't take the boys. Steve will be devastated. So will
the boys. He's the only father figure they've known."
"Look, Sloan, I can appreciate that you love my daughter and
her children, but Amanda is my daughter. Those boys are my
grandsons. Now, I'm not a doctor, but I know four code blues in
less than three days don't bode well for my little girl. I've
been praying, but I know the drill. God answers prayers.
Sometimes the answer is no. I don't want face that eventuality,
but I may have no choice."
Amanda appeared, looking at her father with confusion.
"What's he saying? Dad?" Amanda went over to her
father. She appealed to her mother, but she was as oblivious to
Amanda's presence as Mr. Bentley. Mark sat down, drooping with
sad resolve.
"Mark, I can see why Amanda and the boys love you and Steve
so much. It obviously returned. But, the boys belong with family.
Amanda is my only daughter. If I can't have her alive and well
with me, then I at least want her sons near."
"Why are they saying these things?" Amanda asked
Kathryn Sloan. "Why do they think they have a right to take
my boys anywhere?"
Kathryn took Amanda's hand and lead her to ICU. Jesse was asleep.
"Poor guy." Amanda stroked Jesse's hair. "He
really cares for this unfortunate woman."
"Unfortunate woman? Amanda don't you know who this is?"
Even though he slept fitfully the chair, Jesse Travis stood in
front of Amanda. She looked at the two Jesses with dawning fear.
Kathryn held her arm.
"Be strong my dear,"
"Me. That woman is me. It can't be me. I'm going to marry
Steve. Everything is finally just the way it should be."
"Why am I not surprised?" Jesse took her shoulders.
" As usual, when it comes to yourself, you are clueless. You
have to help me Amanda. If I don't perform this surgery you will
die. But if I go in blind, you will die anyway, because you are
not strong enough to endure an exploratory. I have to know where
those bleeders are. Come on, this is where you shine. Help
me."
Amanda looked at Kathryn Sloan for guidance.
"Go on dear. I'll miss you, but you would be surprised how
little time matters here."
Amanda took Jesse's hands and revealed to him secrets of the
human body that even the most advanced technology could not
disclose. Jesse nodded, then gasped as he saw something Doctors
only imagined in animation.
"I thought you guys were going to wait until after the
wedding," He joked.
He awoke, not hearing Amanda wry retort. Nurse Wilson and Doctor
French stood looking at him. French still held the will. Jesse
brushed passed him.
"Harriet, get Amanda prepped for surgery."
French trailed Jesse out of the ICU.
"Doctor Travis, you can no longer avoid the issue of the
methods you are using to keep Doctor Bentley alive."
"I told you what you can do with that piece of paper,
Doctor." Jesse saw Mark and the Bentley's walking towards
him. He pointed to the trio as he turned into lab. "Here
comes her parents and Mark. You tell them about the will."
"What will?" Mrs. Bentley asked.
"Mr. and Mrs. Bentley, I'm Gerald French. I'm the hospital
legal liaison."
"A lawyer and physician? Sounds like a conflict of
interest."
French smiled uncertainly at Mrs. Bentley.
"I am sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances.
Amanda, I mean, Doctor Bentley is very dear to us. Doctor Bentley
left a living will, I do not know if you are familiar with the
particulars of the document, however--"
"Amanda drew up that document in case she contracted cancer
or some fatal illness," Mark interrupted. "It has no
weight in these circumstances."
"I'm afraid it does Doctor. Please forgive me, Mr. and Mrs.
Bentley, but I believe that Dr. Travis has violated the terms of
this will. He has used, according to an associate, heroic efforts
to keep Doctor Bentley alive, including his current move to
perform surgery on her now."
"He's taking her to surgery now?" Mark said. He ran
after Jesse.
French sighed but plunged on.
"I understand Jesse devotion to his friend, but instructing
me to, how can I put this delicately, use the will as toilet
paper, does not absolve the hospital from it's legal obligations
to Doctor Bentley and her family."
"Well, allow me to that for you." Mrs. Bentley snatched
the paper and tore it to shreds. She smiled. " If my
daughter wants to sue me she can take me on when she has the
strenght to do so. However, as Amanda's primary family I can tell
you officially to stick this piece paper where the sun don't
shine, and let that Doctor save my daughter's life.
End of Part III
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to Part Four
