Title: Never Too Young for Murder
Author: Becca T
E-mail: Beksmfa2@aol.com
Rating: PG
Challenge: Number 46
Summary: When the mother of a thirteen-year-old is
murdered, she stays with Mark and Steve. When the girl gets
too involved in solving her mother's murder, Steve shows what how
he really feels for her.
Never Too Young For Murder
It was a sunny afternoon on the
beach. Samantha Mitchell and her mother, Anne, were
enjoying the sun. Sam was in the water when Dr. Mark Sloan
walked down to the sea, and saw Anne. In his friendly way,
Mark decided to go over and greet her.
"Hi," he said, holding out his hand,
"I'm Dr Mark Sloan. I live in that house over
there."
"Hi," Anne shook Mark's hand, "I'm Anne
Mitchell. I live two streets away from here. I'm here
with my daughter, Sam. She's in the water trying to 'catch
some waves' as she puts it."
"Oh, right," Mark smiled. He and
Anne got talking, and then Sam appeared from the water.
"Sam, this is Dr. Sloan. He lives in the
house over here, and works at Community General."
"Dr. Sloan, hi," Sam greeted him, "I
am sure I heard that name yesterday. On the news, that was
it! Steve Sloan is trying to solve a murder and is
appealing for witnesses."
"That's right. The one on the
train?"
"Yeah. I think I know who did it. It had
to be the train-driver, Martin Edwards. He wasn't driving
the train with the bomb on it. He had just entered the
station, driving the incoming train. The driver is at the
front of one train, and the luggage is at the back of the other
train. He cold have pushed the train he was driving just
close enough to the sabotaged train to jump off, throw the parcel
containing the bomb into the luggage car, and jump back into the
driver's car on his train. Since the bomb went off half an
hour later, you thought that it had to be someone on the train,
especially since there was a stop before the bomb went off.
I got all the newspapers and information I could get, and I
thought about someone not on the train, and came up with
Edwards. Did you get any of that?" Mark thought
hard about this. It did seem possible. The more he
thought about it, the more likely it seemed that it was
true. It had to be Edwards. He turned to Sam.
"Sam, you are thirteen, right? For thirteen, you have
a smart mind in there."
"Thanks, Dr. Sloan. For a doctor, you're okay."
"Call me Mark," Dr Sloan said.
"Okay, Mark." The Mitchells got to know Dr Sloan
well over the next week or so. They would run into each
other on the beach mostly. Mark offered to let Anne park
her car in front of Mark's house and access the beach through the
back.
"Thanks for the coffee, Mark," Anne said as she was
leaving after a day at the beach with Sam, "Sam, I'll just
turn the car around. Get and get your board, would
you?" Mrs Mitchell went out to the car. Mark was
just tiding up the cups when he heard an explosion very close to
his house.
"Anne?" he ran out of the front door, but it was too
late.
"What?" Sam was lying on the Sloans' couch, feeling
dazed. Then she remembered, and shuddered.
"Hello, anyone?" Sam called out. An unfamiliar
voice answered.
"Who's there?" A man with a pistol to his left shoulder
came through from the back. Sam raised her hands.
"Don't shoot me!" Sam whispered, her voice filled with
fear.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" The man
wanted to know. The front door opened.
"Steve, put the gun away. I can see you both got off
to a good start." Mark said as he threw his car keys
on the hall table.
"Dad, who is she?" Steve asked.
"Steve, this is Sam Mitchell. Sam, this is my son,
Steve. Sam, why don't you turn on the TV and find something
good to watch, okay?" Mark ushered Steve into the
kitchen.
"Steve, you remember I told you about Anne and Sam
Mitchell? I saw them again this afternoon on the
beach. Sam went to get her board whilst Anne went to start
the car. Someone had planted a bomb in Anne's car, and it
went off. Right now, Sam has no relatives at all.
That's why she is staying here for the moment."
"Thanks for asking me first, Dad," Steve said with
little feeling in his voice. Then he remembered.
"She's the one who is trying to play detective, isn't
she?"
"Steve," Mark said dryly, "to Sam, it is not a
game. She keeps herself out of danger, and still manages to
solve most of the cases she hears about on TV. She has a
quick mind. Don't start depriving her of it when she is
only thirteen." With that, Mark walked out of the room
to check on Sam and tell her about what happened to her
mother. Steve sighed. Sure, he felt sorry for Sam,
but if she stayed here, then she might get in the way. Why
me, thought Steve as he poured himself a cup of coffee and stared
out to the sea.
Sam stayed in the spare room of the Beach House. She loved
it there. It was warm, dry, and as near to the sea as she
could get. At first, she tried talked to Steve, but sensing
the tension that was there, she gave up and spent most of her
time either in her room or on the beach. Mark was worried
about Sam.
"She talks to me, but not a lot," Mark
told Amanda and Jesse in the Doctors' Lounge, "she just
keeps herself to herself."
"She is afraid of something," Amanda said, "and
you have to ask her what. Why don't Jesse and I visit her,
and maybe she'll say what's bothering her."
"Yes, do that," Mark said cheerfully, "and Amanda,
bring CJ along. Sam adores little kids."
"She'd better be careful with him," Amanda said
protectively as Jesse and Mark laughed.
"I'll bring my surf-board," Jesse said, "This girl
seems to spend half her life in the sea. That'll be where I
come in."
"Right. On Saturday, at 3pm should be good.
You're all free then?" They agreed, and it was
settled.
At the beach house, a day before Jesse and Amanda were due to
meet the girl, Sam was thinking hard. Who would want to
kill mom, she thought. She thought of something. At
her house was a desk. In that desk was an envelope
containing papers that Sam was never to see. Sam wondered
if answers would be in there. The searching had stopped in
Sam's house, so she was free to go in there and have a look
around. Sam knew where the key to the desk was, and she had
a house key. Sam wrote a note to Mark for when he came
home, saying that she had gone back to her house to pick up a few
things, which was really lying.
Sam picked up her bike and peddled non-stop to her house.
She unlocked the front door and went in. So many memories
came back to Sam, filling her eyes with tears, but she fought
back, keeping her mind on the task in hand. She went to the
desk, picked up the envelope, made sure it was the right one, and
picked up a few clothes before leaving the house almost
untouched. She didn't want anyone to know about the papers
until she herself had looked at them. They may not have any
answers, she thought. But then, they might.
Sam re-entered the house, and saw that no one had come
back. She tore up the note she had left, and locked herself
in her room to look through the papers. What she found was
a great shock to her.
"I had a father called Peter Buchen. Mom said that my
Dad was William Mitchell and he had died a bit before I was born,
in a car crash." Sam read on. There was a
newspaper cutting, and then a hand-written note. The
newspaper article said that William Mitchell had died in a
car-crash in March of the year Sam was born. The note said,
"When Will found out what I did, he got drunk and drove
away. His car crashed. He came back to me. He
was very burnt all down his left side. He said to keep a
picture of himself as he was before, and to take a Polaroid of
himself with burns, and to never forget what I had driven him
to." Sam looked at the photos. William looked
all right until the car-crash. She looked at the
Polaroid. Her face screwed up. She'd never forget his
face in a long time. "He left again," the note
continued "and I never saw him again. I know he is
still out there, somewhere." Sam's jaw had dropped
open. Mom must have had an affair with Peter, and become
pregnant, and then William found out, thought Sam as she put the
evidence away. A thought struck her. Suppose, just
suppose, that this William came back for revenge after thirteen
years. The marriage certificate says that William and Anne
were married on the thirteenth of February. That's the day
that mom died, exclaimed Sam out loud. She heard a
voice. Steve's voice. He rapped on the door to come
in. Sam couldn't hide the evidence. Not enough time
to gather up all the papers. She just shrugged her
shoulders and unlocked the door for Steve. He saw the bed
and instantly looked over the papers.
"Where did you get these?" He asked.
"I went to mom's house and got them."
"Why didn't you tell me about these? You have some
explaining to do, young lady." Steve saw Sam slightly
trembling but ignored it.
"I just remembered, when you were out. I remembered
mom had stuff in her desk that she didn't want me to see. I
thought that it might help the case. I was going to give it
to you when I got back. If you look properly and think,
then you could have a lead." Steve went through the
papers. He looked at Sam.
"Okay, we have a lead here. William Mitchell. It
shouldn't be too hard to find him." And with that,
Steve left, taking the envelope and contents with him.
"No thanks?" thought Sam as she stared out the window
and saw Steve's truck drive off towards the Station. Sam
hoped that Steve would catch him. Sam also hoped that she
could beat him up after what he did to her mother.
"I'll get it," Sam yelled as she
heard someone knock on the door. She saw Dr. Travis, Dr. Bentley,
and a cute little boy.
"Come in," Sam said, leading them in. He saw that Dr.
Travis had a wetsuit and a surfboard with him.
"Hi," Mark said, coming out of the kitchen, "Sam,
this is Jesse Travis, Amanda Bentley, and her son, CJ."
"Hi," Sam said shyly. She couldn't think of much else
to say to them.
"CJ, say hi to Sam," Amanda said to him.
"Hi, Sam," CJ said, holding his arms up in the air,
wanting to be picked up by Sam. Sam did so, and CJ giggled.
Knowing that CJ was in safe hands, Amanda followed Jesse and Mark
through to the kitchen.
"Mark, do you think that Sam and I could go surfing a bit
later?" Jesse begged.
"Well, it is a bit stormy out there, so be careful,
okay?"
"Sure will, Mark," Jesse said excitedly. He hadn't been
surfing yet since October, since winter had set in. Now it was
mid March, and it would be okay with wetsuits.
"Okay, Sam, go get a wetsuit on. I'm gonna take you
surfing." Sam couldn't wait. Finally, someone apart from
Mark was taking a real interest in her. She got her wetsuit on
over her swimsuit, and grabbed her board before joining Jesse
down by the shore.
"Sure this weather isn't gonna be to hard for you?"
Jesse yelled through the howling of the wind.
"No, it's fine," Sam replied. For about half an hour,
Sam and Jesse rode the waves. The storm was growing increasingly
worse, but in the sea, the two didn't notice it. Then, as she was
chasing her board towards the beach, Sam noticed someone. She
went pale, but remained calm.
"Jesse," Sam said as she caught up with him,
"listen to me. When I say now, take a deep breath, grab my
hand, and keep swimming forward until you feel like you need
breath. When you go, squeeze my hand really hard. Don't ask
questions. I'll explain later. Let's just say that our lives
depend on it." Jesse understood, and sensed the fear in her
voice and her face, so did as he was told.
"Now!" screamed Sam as a wave swallowed them up. Sam
and Jesse swam forward until Sam could not take it anymore, and
had to breathe. She squeezed Jesse's hand hard, and came up for
breath. Sam looked round behind her, and her face fell. "Too
late," she said, seeing someone swim towards her.
Meanwhile, in the Beach House, Steve returned from the station.
"He's around here," Steve said, "Anne's murderer
is around here. And he's out to get Sam. We have to look for
him…"
"Steve, slow down," Mark said, "where is Anne's
murderer, and what is their name?"
"William Mitchell, now known as Patrick Jones, is on the
Beach." He thought, and then ran out of the door and down
the balcony, and noticed Sam and Jesse's boards lying on the
shore. He looked under the house. He saw a canvas bag with stuff
in. He looked through the bag. Mark and Amanda followed, bringing
CJ with them. The storm had cleared up, and the sea was fairly
calm now.
Mark, Steve and Amanda searched under the balcony, looking for
evidence to show that Jones did it.
"This would be pretty good evidence," Mark said,
picking up a book he had found. It was all about making car
bombs.
"Keep that," Steve said, flicking through the book.
They searched for another twenty or so minutes.
"Uncle Jesse!" CJ cried, toddling over to him. Amanda
turned around to look, and screamed. Mark and Steve rushed over
to where Jesse lay, lifelessly. Mark checked him over.
"Ambulance, Steve," Mark said as Steve took his phone
out of his pocket. "There's a really faint pulse," Mark
said, "slight signs of breathing. Possibly two broken ribs
and a concussion." Mark watched over Jesse until the
ambulance arrived to take him away. Mark went with him. Steve
looked around on the beach before he and Amanda followed in
Amanda's car. He saw a message in a glass bottle. It read:
"I have got Sam. You can have your friend back. I'll keep
Sam for five days. I'll take good care of her. After that, who
knows what might happen?" Steve hung his head. Maybe, just
maybe, he thought, there was still a chance for Sam. Steve really
did like Sam, but Steve found it hard to show it. Steve made up
his mind to find Sam, and to bring her back alive and well. For
now, he thought, there was another friend in need. He got in the
car and travelled to the hospital.
Jesse was in a critical condition. After he left ER, he was in a
dark room with many computers monitoring him, and keeping him
alive. He had taken in a lot of water into his lungs, and
therefore found it very difficult to breathe, even after the
water had been removed. He had two broken ribs, which were very
close to puncturing his lung. He was lucky that they didn't. He
also had a concussion. He was hanging onto life by a thin thread.
Amanda, Mark and Steve all took turns watching over him. They
could hardly tolerate just watching Jesse clinging to his life.
After three days, Jesse had made some progress, and woke up.
Steve was sitting with him. He paged both Amanda and Mark to take
a look at Jesse.
"Steve?" Jesse had his eyes half-open, and was finding
it hard to focus on something.
"It's okay, Jess," Steve reassured him, "you're
gonna be okay."
"Jesse?" Mark walked in, followed by Amanda, "how
do you feel?"
"Tired, dizzy, and my ribs hurt."
"Okay," Dr Sloan noted this on his chart, "Jesse,
you have to tell us what happened. In the sea."
Jesse thought for a moment. In the sea? Then he remembered. He
yelled out at the top of his voice "Oh my God!"
"Jesse," Mark tried to calm Jesse down, "Jesse,
calm down. Tell us what happened. Slowly and calmly, tell us what
happened."
Jesse was shaking uncontrollably now. "Okay, okay," he
tried to reassure himself, "Sam saw something. She said
'hold my hand. Swim forward. When you run out of breath, squeeze
my hand hard.' So I did, only she ran out of breath first. We
surfaced. Sam and I turned around, and saw this guy swimming
towards us. He had really bad burns all down his left side. He
saw me with Sam. Sam tried to tell me to swim for my life. I
tried to, but the guy grabbed my leg. He had a glass paperweight
with him. He used it to beat me up. My head and my ribs, that's
where he aimed for. I was sort of half-conscious. Sam tried to
drag me back to the shore. She got halfway there before I went
unconscious. It was horrible. I have to get Sam back. That guy is
capable of doing anything to Sam."
"Okay, Jess," Steve said, "we have our murderer.
Now, I'm going to find Sam. She'll be safe."
"I'm coming too," Jesse lifted the covers off of
himself, and tried to get out of bed. He struggled with standing
upright, and was caught by Steve.
"Jesse, you are staying put, and that is final," Mark
said firmly. Jesse was too weak to argue. Within moments of being
placed back in bed, Jesse was in a deep sleep again.
"I'll watch over him," Amanda said, "my shift ends
about now."
"Thanks Amanda," Mark said, "be careful, Steve.
Steve, where are you going to start looking?"
"Back under the house," Steve said, "to look for
some more clues."
"Okay, see you later." Mark knew that Steve really did
care for Sam. By helping her, that was a way that he showed it.
"Amanda?" Jesse said, waking up a day later. Amanda had
been and gone from looking after Jesse many times. She had stayed
at the hospital for over two days without going home. She was
asleep in the chair next to Jesse's bed. There were fewer wires
attached to Jesse now. He felt a lot better. The buzz in his head
was gone, and he could breathe easily now. He still had a slight
pain in his ribs, but that would pass, he thought. He wanted to
get some proper clothes on, not the plastic hospital gown that he
was wearing now. He got up out of bed, and headed towards the
cupboard in his room. Phew, he thought, as he found real clothes
in there. He put them on, and walked around the room for a bit,
to get his muscles working again properly. Good, he thought. I
don't feel dizzy, and I can actually move. What was he going to
do now?
"Jesse," Amanda was about to scold him, "get back
in bed at once."
"Amanda, I feel fine," Jesse said, "look, I am
fine." He did some star-jumps to prove it, trying to hide
the pain on his face as his ribs moved.
"I'll let Mark be the judge of that," she said, paging
him. He arrived five minutes later, slightly astounded to see
Jesse up and about.
"And you are sure you feel okay?" Mark said.
"Fine," Jesse replied, "I am going to look for Sam
now."
"Slow down, Jess," Mark said, concerned, "you
don't know where to start."
"Yes, I do," Jesse replied, "I'll be back later to
fill in the forms." With that, he walked out of the room.
Amanda and Mark knew better than to stop him. They didn't think
Jesse was as strong as he was now.
"I think he feels that it's his fault that he lost
Sam," Mark said, "but it's not. It could have happened
to anyone."
"He'll be okay, Mark," Amanda assured the fretting
doctor, "Jesse is strong inside. He'll be okay." I hope
you're right, thought Mark as he left the room.
Jesse knew exactly where to get Sam. He made up his mind to bring
Steve with him. Maybe, thought Jesse, Steve and Sam might get
along better if he did that. Jesse found Steve.
"Jesse," Steve said, surprised, "you should be
relaxing in a hospital bed, not chasing me all over town."
"Steve," Jesse caught his breath, "I know where
Jones has Sam."
"Where?" Jesse explained to Steve where.
"Okay, I'm going to get a diving suit. Meet me on the beach
outside the house."
"Get me one too," Jesse called after him.
As Steve went to get the suits, he thought about how much he
wanted to get Sam back. He knew why he didn't like her as much as
he should have. She was too like he was as a boy. He wanted to
get involved, even if it meant going behind elder's backs. Steve
couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl. He had to get her back
alive. He would never forgive himself if he didn't.
"Here, put this on," Steve said as he handed Jesse the
suit. Steve still wasn't sure that Jesse was strong enough to go
swimming, but Jesse had to help find Sam.
Steve followed Jesse as he led the way to an underground cave.
They swam upwards to a hollow where they could take off of their
masks and talk.
"Sam pointed it out to me as we were swimming away from
Jones," whispered Jesse, "I knew that Jones would take
her here."
"So where is she?" Steve asked impatiently. Jesse
pointed to an opening just big enough to crawl through. They
crawled through, and saw Jones with his back to them the other
side, verbally torturing Sam. Sam saw them, but tried hard to
keep a straight face. She was tied up, and resting on a higher
ledge. Steve got out his revolver and pointed it to Jones' back.
"Freeze, Jones. Stay perfectly still, and raise your hands
in the air. You are under arrest for murder…" Steve
cuffed Jones, and set him down by the entrance to the cave.
"Keep an eye on him, Jesse," Steve said. He went over
to Sam, and untied her.
"Hi, Steve," Sam said cautiously, "Thanks for
coming to find me."
"Sam," Steve began, "I'm sorry for the way I've
been acting to you. I didn't hate you or anything; it just took
some time to get used to you. I can't say why, because I am
ashamed to. Please forgive me. I'll be a lot nicer to you."
Sam hugged Steve. They heard a loud yelp from behind them. Jones
had found a way to stand up, and he had run at Jesse, and aimed
for the ribs. Jesse fell to the ground, groaning about his ribs.
Sam had had it with this guy. She ran straight for him and
body-slammed him into the wall.
"You do *NOT* go around beating up my friends, okay?"
she hollered to him as he sat on his back. Steve tended to Jesse,
who was unconscious again, through pain.
"I told him not to come down here, but would he
listen?" Steve mumbled and muttered. He wondered how he was
going to get Jesse, this criminal and Sam out of the hole on his
own.
"Sam, you take Jesse, slowly and carefully, to the surface,
but quickly. I'll take our friend here," Steve said,
referring to Jones. They made it back to the beach, where Amanda
and Mark were waiting. They took Jesse to hospital, again, and
Steve took the station.
Mark, Amanda, Steve and Sam were all present when Jesse woke up
again. "Here, again?" Jesse asked, bewildered.
"How are the ribs?" Mark asked.
"Sore," Jesse replied, "is everyone else
okay?"
"Yes, everyone else is fine," Steve replied.
"I still have one question," Sam said, "Where am I
going to live now?"
"Well," Mark said uncertainly as he looked at Steve.
"With us, of course," Steve replied. Everyone apart
from Sam looked at Steve in astonishment. Wasn't this the Steve
who five days ago treated Sam very, very frostily?
"You heard me right," Steve assured them, "Sam,
get the rest of the stuff from your house, and move it in."
Steve got a call from his cell-phone. "Be right there,"
he replied. He said goodbye to everyone, and was just about to
leave when he saw someone behind him.
"Have you got another case? Can I come and help you solve
it?" Sam asked eagerly.
Steve thought for a moment, and said, "I'll bring some
evidence home for you to have a look at." And he left,
smiling.
The End
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