Title: The Death of Sarah Littleton
Author: Pug
E-mail: chocowrite@worldnet.att.net
Rated: NC-17 - explicit sex **and**
violence
Spoilers: none
Summary: Steve is the target of a hit woman whose MO is to make
her
victims fall in love with her so they're more susceptible. The
only
problem is, what happens when the hit woman falls in love with
the
victim?
Warnings: See ratings. This
story has *extremely* graphic sex *and*
violence, it is not for young readers and may not be appropriate
for all
adults, continue at your own discretion.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, CBS and Viacom do. This
is
not for profit, expressly for private use, and not to be spread
around
the internet or anywhere else for that matter.
Feedback: This story is clearly rated and the warnings spell out
the
content of the story, therefore in this instance, the author will
not
accept negative feedback regarding inclusion of sex and violence,
only
constructive critiques please
Chapter 1
I'd only been in LA a week, but I'd adjusted quickly not
only to the time difference, but the weather. I could easily get
used to this, I thought. It was mid-February and people were
hurrying about in fur coats and it was in the fifties for crying
out loud! I was content wearing a long sleeved blouse, skirt, no
stockings and open toed shoes. I guess I stood out like a
tourist, but that was okay, people don't look at tourists in LA,
and I didn't need to be noticed. I was here to do a job, the
more invisible I was, the better.
Actually, I needed a sweater down by the ocean. It was
out in the valley where it was warm enough to go without. But
most of my work would probably be along the Pacific Coast
Highway, or the PCH as the locals seemed wont to call it.
Everything around here had initials. If you didn't listen
closely you'd get your interstates and freeways all messed up and
end up in San Diego when you wanted to be in Santa Barbara.
I'd spent the week doing research on my project. Now I was
ready to start setting things in motion. But first, I was
famished, dinner was at the top of my "TO DO" list.
Earlier in
the week I'd noticed a little shopping center just west of Malibu
that had a barbecue place tucked into it. Right now some ribs
would taste mighty good. Amazing what the sea air did to your
appetite.
The joint, Bar-B-Q Bob's it was called, looked like a hole
in the wall from outside. But as I approached the door, several
people streamed out carrying To Go orders and I could see a line
of people waiting just inside. I was told by the somewhat
harried waitress that there was a twenty minute wait for a table.
I looked around and asked,
"I'll sit at the counter if that's okay."
"Go ahead." She rushed off at the sound of a bell
dinging in
the kitchen.
There were several empty stools at the counter. All singles
between men. I opted for the last seat at the far end of the
counter next to a man and his 6 year old companion.
I glanced at the menu, but it didn't take much deciding. I
put it down and waited. A moment later a rather tall, well built
man in jeans and a blue dress shirt under a sauce spattered apron
came up to me.
"Make up your mind already?"
He smiled and blue eyes, their color deepened by the shirt
he wore, glistened. He had a strong face, squarish, with a
strong jawline and a cleft in his chin.
"Got a hankering for some ribs. Let me have the king rack
and a Fosters Lager."
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "That king rack is pretty
big, you sure-"
I cut him off.
"Hey, I may be tiny, but I know what I can eat."
He backed off a step at my tone.
"I didn't mean to imply..."
I waved him off. "Sorry, I just get tired of people
thinking because I'm so short that I eat nothing."
"King rack and Fosters it is then." He gave a nod and
disappeared into the kitchen.
When he came back with my beer, I asked, "Is it this crowded
every night?"
"Crowded?" He looked around at the room behind me.
"This
is nothing. We've had them lined up out the door and half way to
the street."
From the kitchen came a yell, "Steve! Order's up!"
He gave me an apologetic look, said "That's me!" and
rushed
off.
One of the waitresses brought my meal about fifteen minutes
later. I spent the intervening time watching the people around
me, listening to the endless chatter of the six year old boy next
to the man I sat beside. Evidently the gentleman was getting a
blow-by-blow account of a movie the child had seen recently.
I had no intention of eating my entire meal. My plan was to
take the remainder back to my temporary apartment and eat the
rest in the ensuing days. I watched as a waitress hurried by
with a huge hot fudge sundae on her tray.
I caught my waiter, Steve, by the arm as he passed on the
way to the cash register.
"You know, that looks awfully good." I nodded my head
in the
direction the waitress had taken. "Can I get one?"
He looked at the plate in front of me.
"No dessert until you clean your plate."
"Oh, come on!" I held up the plate. "I want this
in a doggy
box for later in the week. You wouldn't turn down another sale
would you?" I gave him my best pleading look.
"Let me ring these people up and I'll be back." He
smiled,
his eyes showing definite interest.
Moments later he returned and took my plate.
"I'll get this boxed up for you. You want coffee with that
hot fudge sundae?"
"Decaf, please." I gave him an encouraging smile. I
think I
noticed a blush coming to his cheeks as he walked back to the
kitchen.
I took my time with the sundae, getting three refills on the
coffee as I nibbled at the warm/cold concoction. By the time I
started that fourth cup of java the place had quieted down and
Steve had time to chat. He leaned back against the stainless
steel counter across from me.
"I don't remember ever seeing you in here before. How'd you
hear about us?"
I shrugged, sipping my coffee. "Just passing by really.
I'm new in town." That made his eyes light up and a smile
crossed his face.
"New huh? Where you from?"
Another shrug. "Around. No place in particular. Mostly
back east. I'm not used to this warm weather."
"You think this is warm?" A younger man who had been
back
in the kitchen most of the evening came through the swinging
doors to my right, Steve's left. I noticed a glare cross Steve's
face quickly and disappear.
"Wait til August!" The young blond kept moving, making
his
way to the cash register.
Steve chuckled, evidently deciding this fellah wasn't a
threat.
But I found the younger man cute and continued to keep my
eyes on him as he punched a couple of buttons on the register and
the cash drawer popped open. He took out the cash, punched
another button or two which made the machine grind and whirl,
spewing forth a long sheet of register tape. When the noises
stopped, he ripped the tape off and, whistling, headed back
toward the kitchen. Once he was out of view I returned my eyes
to Steve.
"Is he the owner?" I asked, eager curiosity in my
voice.
"Part owner," Steve replied, emphasizing the word part.
"With my father and I. My father's a silent partner."
I managed to look surprised.
"You own this place?"
He looked hurt at my astonishment. "I don't look like I
could own a place like this?"
I shrugged. "I rather thought you spent your days surfing
and this is how you managed to make ends meet. Waiting tables at
night." That really flustered Steve and drew a roar of
laughter
from the kitchen.
"All right Jesse!" This time the emphasis was on the
word
right as Steve glared in the direction of the kitchen.
I giggled, I couldn't help myself, I was having fun.
Jesse, the younger man, came out of the kitchen and leaned
against the door.
"Take another guess." He looked at me, twinkling blue
eyes
full of mischief.
I looked at him and shrugged. "Another guess? At what?"
"What he does for a living!" He raised and lowered his
eyebrows several times in quick succession, making me giggle
again.
"He already told me," I said looking at Steve.
"Yeah!" Steve spoke quickly before Jesse could open his
mouth. "Don't you have something to do back there?" He
tossed
his head in the direction of the kitchen, several times in fact.
Jesse hesitated, the thought process clear on his face. But
he looked from me to Steve, saw the glower in his partner's face
and shrugged. "All right, I'm going!"
By this point, my appetite had reached the saturation point.
I pushed the remaining quarter of the sundae away with a heavy
sigh.
"That was great. But now I'm stuffed. Guess it's time for
me to be going."
Having paid the bill when the sundae was delivered, I rose
to my feet.
"Oh!" Steve turned around to the counter behind him and
grabbed a styrofoam container. "Don't forget your left
overs."
I reached for them hesitantly, then withdrew my hands before
taking the proffered box.
"Give them to a stray dog. I think I'd rather come back and
get more, fresh, another day."
That seemed to please Steve.
"You here every night?"
The question arose some consternation in my new friend.
"No, not every night. Off and on. It's hard to say when I'll
be
here."
I looked at him quizzically. "So I might come back and you
won't be here?" I think I managed to look disappointed.
The proverbial light bulb brightened over Steve's head.
"Tell you what, give me your phone number and I'll let you
know the next night I'm working."
I hesitated. Steve had an order pad and pen all ready to
write, he put them back in the pocket of his apron.
"Or," he dropped his head to one side. "You could
just call
ahead and ask."
"I don't even know your name."
He smiled and extended a hand. "Steve Sloan."
I shook his hand. "Nice to meet you Steve. You really have
a nice place here." There was a pen on the counter next to
me
where someone had signed a credit card slip. I picked it up,
pulled a napkin out of the holder in front of me and wrote on it.
I handed the napkin to Steve and headed for the door.
"Good night, Sarah. Thanks for coming in!" At least I
think that's what he said, the door closed on his words after
"Thanks."
Chapter 2
The nice thing about my job is there's plenty of free time
and no one breathing down your neck. As long as the work gets
done, that's what counts. Of course every once in a while
there's a rush job, but then comes an assignment like this one in
which timing is everything. To rush is to ruin.
So I spent a few days shopping and sight seeing. Did the
Mann's Chinese theatre, Rodeo Drive, even went out to Catalina
Island one day. My favorite past time though was just walking
along the beach. It was restful and quiet there.
There were messages from Steve Sloan a couple evenings when
I returned to the apartment. Either I'd already eaten, or just
wasn't in the mood for ribs, so I let it slide.
I was really beginning to enjoy LA and even spoke to the
building manager about actually renting a place when my lease was
up. I had no idea if I would actually follow through, but it was
always good to have the information just in case.
It was about ten days after my first visit that I finally
went back to Bar-B-Q Bob's. Steve hadn't called, but the desire
for a shredded pork sandwich was more than I could bare.
I strolled in without any wait. Probably because it was a
Tuesday and approaching eight thirty. There were a number of
empty tables and only two people at the counter: an elderly
gentleman with brilliant white hair and his companion. She was
much younger than him, beautiful light brown skin and long hair
pulled back in a bun. They were poring over a file folder that
lay on the counter between them.
I took a seat at the counter about six stools away from the
couple. They never even looked up from their work. In another
minute the door from the kitchen swung open and Jesse breezed
through it. He physically perked up upon seeing me and got a big
smile on his face.
"Hey! I know you!" He pointed at me. "You're the
one who
thought Steve was a surfer!"
"What?" The woman at the counter looked up from her
work
and stared at Jesse.
"Yeah, she was in here a while ago, weren't you?"
What could I do but nod?
"She was surprised to find out Steve was part owner of Bar B
Q Bob's because she thought he was a waiter at night and surfed
during the day."
This statement sent the woman into gales of laughter and her
elderly companion chuckled.
"Jesse what in the--" Steve burst through the kitchen
door
and saw me. He stopped, the door swinging back and hitting him
on the shoulder. He didn't seem to notice. He just glared at
me.
"Well, this is a surprise."
I looked sheepish. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it when you
called me."
I noticed Jesse moved down the counter and was holding a
whispered conversation with the other two occupants.
"It's just, I'm here to work, and I didn't get your messages
until after you'd closed."
"I see." Steve wasn't ready to forgive me yet.
"I'm kinda surprised to see you here, since you didn't call
me."
"So you came on purpose, thinking I wouldn't be here?"
"No!" I started shredding a napkin I'd pulled out of
the
holder. "I had a craving for a pork sandwich."
"We were about to close the kitchen."
"Oh." I got to my feet. "I don't want to be
trouble. I'll
just grab a burger someplace on the way home. I'll remember to
come earlier next time."
Looking forlorn I headed for the door.
"Sarah! Wait!"
I turned to look at Steve. He motioned me back. I was well
aware that the trio at the other end of the counter were watching
our every move, listening to every word. If Steve was cognizant
of it, he didn't show it.
"Sit down," he commanded. I did as told.
"You want fries with that?"
"Are they any good?" I smiled.
He reared his head back in mock shock. "How dare you even
ask! You want your slaw on the side or on the bun?"
I couldn't contain my grin. "For a part time owner, you're
good at this. On the bun please. And a side of baked beans."
"Fosters?"
"No, not tonight. Just a cola, whatever you have."
"All right!" He scribbled on the order pad, disappeared
momentarily into the kitchen, then came back out and fixed my
soda. After he placed it in front of me he came around the
counter and took the stool beside me.
Leaning one arm on the counter and facing me, he asked, "So,
just what is it you're in town to do that keeps you out so late
that you don't have time for dinner?"
I shrugged. "It's pretty boring really. I do free lance
work for a lot of companies. Writing articles and proposals,
that sort of thing."
He looked sufficiently baffled, and didn't press the issue.
"I travel around a lot, but I've never really been to the
west coast before. This is a treat." I told him all the
touristy stuff I'd done already.
"You know of anything I've missed, that I'll regret if I
don't see it before I leave?"
"I can think of a few things."
A bell rang in the kitchen and Steve jumped to his feet.
Like Pavlov's dog.
"That'll be your dinner."
"Quick!" I said with wide eyes. He smiled and went to
retrieve my meal.
I was a little surprised when he didn't sit down again after
placing my plate in front of me. Instead he went around the
restaurant bussing tables as Jesse rung up the last couple
customers besides myself and the pair at the counter.
Like the ribs, the sandwich was first rate and I enjoyed
every bite of it. The beans had a kick to them that burned your
tongue just enough to make it tingle at the back of your throat.
And the fries were the thick cut type, still with some skin, nice
and hot with just the right amount of salt.
I finished the last fry, gave satisfied sigh and pushed the
plate away. Jesse walked up and took the plate.
"That was marvelous. I don't know how you work here and
stay so slim."
Jesse chuckled. "I run it all off in the ER."
I gave him a confused look. "The what?"
"E R. Emergency Room. In real life I'm a doctor at
Community General Hospital."
My eyes widened. "Really? Oh! That's why you thought it
was so funny when I thought Steve was a surfer."
It was Jesse's turn to look baffled. Steve walked up just
then.
"All finished?" He seemed surprised.
"It was delicious. Jesse here, was just telling me about
how you work together in the hospital. I had no idea you were a
doctor. I guess when I said you were a surfer, that was a pretty
big insult, huh? I'm soooo sorry!"
Jesse's mouth was opening and closing like a fish gasping
for air. Steve was staring at him in disbelief.
"I-I-I didn't--" Jesse stammered.
"That's okay, Jess." Steve clamped a hand down on the
shorter man's shoulder. There was a slight push in that gesture
and Jesse moved off to the kitchen.
"Can I get you anything else?"
I sat back a bit. "Not tonight, thanks. That was just
right. I guess if you'll just give me the bill, I'll be on my
way, so you can close up."
The couple rose to their feet as well. "We should be going
too."
They both looked expectantly from Steve to me and back again
as we three stood at the register.
Steve let out a heavy sigh. "Sarah, this gentleman is my
father, Mark Sloan."
My eyes widened and I looked from one to the other. "I
should have known! The resemblance is there, for sure. It's
nice to meet you Mr. Sloan. I understand you're a part owner in
this wonderful establishment."
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." He shook my hand.
"And this is Amanda Bentley." Steve nodded at the
woman.
"Dr. Bentley," she said with emphasis. "I work at
Community
General too."
"Ohh!" I smiled shaking her hand. "How nice that
you all
spend so much time together off the job."
There was a brief silence which I cut through.
"Well, I really do have to be going. It was nice meeting
you both. Perhaps I'll see you again, I'm sure to be back."
They both smiled and nodded.
To everyone's surprise, Steve hurdled the counter.
"Ill walk you to your car. This can be a dangerous place
this late at night."
I didn't point out that it was earlier than the last time
I'd left. I let him hold the door open for me and preceded him
to my car.
At the car, he leaned against the back door.
"Earlier you were asking about places to see before you go.
If you'd like, I'd be happy to show you a couple spots most
tourists never get to see."
I looked at him in the shadowy light of the parking lot.
His posture was casual, but the expression on his face was eager
and anxious at the same time.
"Can you really do that? I mean between your job at the
hospital and the restaurant, how do you have any free time?"
I could see the guilt cross his face even in the darkness.
"Yeah, well, about that. You misunderstood Jesse. I'm not a
doctor."
I remained silent for a long minute, finally saying.
"Oh."
Finally I looked at him with a smile. "Then you do have the
time
to show me around."
He paused a beat then said, "Absolutely."
"I'd like that." I put the key in the door lock and
turned
it. The locks went click. "I'm pretty busy the rest of the
week. But I think I have Saturday free." I opened the car
door
and slid behind the wheel.
"Why don't you call me Friday night, say after ten. I'll be
sure to be home by then. Then we can see what we can work out.
You still have my number don't you?"
"Of course."
"Well, I thought you might have gotten angry when I didn't
show up last week and thrown it out."
"Now, do I look like that kind of a guy?"
I closed the car door, started the engine and pushed the
button so the window slid down.
"You sure did when you came out of the kitchen and saw me
the first time tonight." I put the car in reverse and began
to
move away, causing Steve to jump away from the vehicle.
Having no response for that, he stood and watched me until I
was out of the parking lot and out of sight. He may have even
stood there longer, but that's as far as I could see him in my
rearview.
Go To
Part Two
