Work Text:
Diagnosis Murder: Extinguished
“Steve?” In the hustle, bustle noise of a busy evening at ‘Barbecue Bob’s’, the name that he & Jesse had kept for their joint business venture with his Dad, Steve Sloan just about heard the tones of a woman’s voice, familiar to him from a long time ago…
He turned around, and his smile was instant. He walked around from behind the counter at the entrance, and embraced the woman. “Melody! Wow! What are you doing here after so long?” He said, pulling back from the warm embrace of two old friends. “Where’s Jeff?”
“I don’t know where he is, Steve…” The, as ever, immaculately turned out Melody said, looking down at her high heels for a split second.
“Ooohhh…” Steve said, realisation coming into place.
“It’s alright. It’s only natural that you’d ask, Steve. You, Carol-Anne, me & Jeff were a team!” She said, punching him lightly on the shoulder, that enticing beam of a winning smile back in place. “Jeff and I divorced, shortly after we got transferred to London because of his new job. He was offered yet another position within the Department when we’d only been there a few months, and he said that it was best we split.” Quickly changing track, she asked “So, I don’t suppose you hear from Carol-Anne these days, do you?” That smile beamed at him.
“Last I heard, she was living in Minnesota with her husband, Dane Roberts, and their two kids, Laura and Daniel.” Steve said, drifting back to thoughts of the days when he hoped he might be the one to end up marrying Carol-Anne Jacobs.
“At least one of us is happy these days…” Melody McIntyre sighed.
“Now, come on, Melody!” He said lightly, then with that boyish grin he had somehow managed to hold onto all these years, “How about I show you a good time, right here???”
“Just what are you suggesting, Steven Sloan???” She asked back, cheek of her own slipping into her voice.
He hadn’t heard anyone call him Steven since he was 14 years old… His grandmother, bless her, was the last person he remembered calling him Steven! “That’s not fair! Would I ever suggest anything but the best of intentions! Come over here… Let me offer you a meal, on me… Well, on my Tab anyway!”
“Oh, no, Steve! I couldn’t ask you to pay…” Melody protested.
“Why not? You’re not the latest Germaine Greer these days, are ya?” Steve joked.
“Well, no…” Melody McIntyre was all for equal opportunities, but she liked to think that at least some of the men in this world were capable of being gentlemen… For all his brash confidence, she guessed Steve Sloan might be one of those rare gentlemen.
“It’s no trouble, Melody… I can stretch to treating an old friend to a good meal… Besides, I think I’m allowed one dinner on the house, y’know… I own this place with my Dad.”
“Yeah… Your colleagues at the Office mentioned something about that!” She said.
“Wondered how you knew to find me here!” He said.
“OK then, friend… You’ve won me over! Lead the way to the delicious culinary experience I hope your cooking turns out to be!” She laughed lightly, charmingly.
“Remind me why I call you my friend??? Careful, or you might end up paying for this meal after all! You should have a little more faith in your good friend, Steve… I’d never disappoint you!” Steve said, laughing, too, and taking her to the table where his father, and other business partner, Jesse, sat, eating and discussing how the restaurant business was going for them all lately…
“ Behave, Steven!” Melody said, just before she set eyes on another old friend…“Mr. Sloan!” Melody exclaimed happily… As Mr. Sloan Snr. stood to greet her, she wrapped him in a warm hug.
“Melody McIntyre! Well! Call me Mark, please!” Mark Sloan asked genuinely.
“Oh, I don’t know if I could do that… Call it a habit of old!” Melody said warmly.
“Try, please… You wouldn’t want an old man to feel anymore ancient than he is, would you?” Mark said, poking fun at himself good-naturedly. He was charming that way, and, most endearingly, he wasn’t aware of it at all…
“Alright, Mark!” Melody said, gleaming.
“Sit down next to Jesse, Melody…” Mark offered her the space next to his young friend. “This is Jesse, a friend and work colleague of mine from County General.”
“Great to meet you!” Jesse said, genuine, warm young charm evident as ever… “I’m business partners with Mark & Steve here at ‘Barbecue Bob’s’, too!” He said, as he stood momentarily, to shake the hand of the Sloans’ friend.
“It’s great to meet you, too, Jesse!… I thought I had heard you talking to Mark about business in this place.” Melody said.
“Yeah! We’re very lucky here, at the moment. Things are going great!” Jesse said, proud as ever of his beloved ‘Barbecue Bob’s’.
Amanda waited at the Airport with her son, CJ. Ron Wagner, her partner, was flying in from London, to spend a few stolen moments with her and her son.
“Hi there, stranger!” She said happily, as she saw him coming towards them.
“Mmmm…” He said, as he kissed her with the heat of love unspent. “Long time no see!”
“Yeah, but we can do something about that while you’re here…” She said, teasing him lightly, just happy to see his face, and be in his arms again.
“I’m looking forward to whatever you have in mind!” He said, grinning cheekily. Then, he pulled from Amanda’s embrace to say Hi to her little son. “ Hi there, my man!” He said, hugging the little boy to him. “How’ve you been doing? Looking after Mommy, like we said, huh?” He asked, smiling at CJ.
“Yep!” The little boy said, simply and sweetly.
“That’s what I like to hear! Good man!” Ron said, as he stayed kneeling down to the same height as the child. He ruffled the little boy’s tight curls.
“I kept my promise!” CJ said, proudly.
“Sure did, didn’t ya?” Ron smiled again.
“Amanda and Ron are here with CJ!” Steve called out, notifying his Dad of the guests they both expected at his Dad’s beautiful beachside house. He walked away from the window, and to the door, as they had just got out of the car on the driveway. He opened it.
“Hi!” Ron said to Steve, slapping him on the back.
“How was the trip?” Steve asked, shaking hands with the friend he hadn’t seen for some months. Today seemed the day for reunions with old friends.
“All the better when I got off the plane and saw these two!” Ron said, making way for Amanda to place her son on the floor, where he promptly ran into the kitchen, and squealed delightedly as Mark grabbed him up, giving the little boy a hug.
“Good to hear!” Steve said, guiding them through to the eating area, and past it, to the sofa, and the ‘nibbles’ that were on the coffee table.
Ron, Jesse, and Amanda all said their ‘hellos!’, and then, Steve took the opportunity to introduce them to the only face Ron and Amanda didn’t recognise.
“This is Melody McIntyre, a friend of mine and Dad’s.” He said, simply.
“I’m back in town.” She said, as she greeted Ron and Amanda.
“So am I!” Ron said. “I just flew in from London.”
Ouch! Steve thought, remembering the unhappy memories with which Melody associated London. But she seemed to take it all in her stride.
“ I used to live there, at one time, with my ex husband. He worked in the Terrorism Department of their Special Forces.” She said, matter of factly.
“So do I! He could be a colleague of mine.” Ron said, interestedly. “What’s his name?”
“Jeff McIntyre, if he’s still going by that name, these days… I don’t know if you guys ever change your names…” She said, tired despondency colouring her voice.
“Oh, God!” Ron said, taking the Melody’s elbow… He sat her down, and sat down, rather slowly, himself, opposite her. “I’m sorry.”
“What??? Tell me!” Melody asked, urgently.
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Mark said, as he walked down the corridors of County General with his son.
“Yeah… I still can’t believe Jeff died at all, let alone like that. At least it was in the line of duty…” Steve said, his mind pre-occupied.
“Poor Melody… The death of someone so close is always a shock, but, somehow, when you’re not on the best of terms with that someone, it has a way of shocking you even more.” Mark said, shaking his head in tired sympathy for his son’s friend.
“I guess she always hoped they could say their sorrys, one day.” Steve said, thoughtfully.
Father and son walked into the side room, where Melody McIntyre was just beginning to wake from her earlier sedation.
“Oh, Steve… I’m glad you’re here!” She said, weepily.
“I’ll be here for as long as you need me, Melody, I promise.” Steve said, softly.
“That’s nice.” She said, and with that, she seemed, momentarily to find the security she needed, and assured by an old and trusted friend, she fell asleep once more.
Mark read her charts and made some additional notes.
Mark and Steve walked to Dr. Sloan’s office, where they had arranged to meet with Ron Wagner.
“Why did they plant that car bomb for Jeff?” Steve asked, needing to know, and looking for the answers from London’s newly appointed American Liaison to the FBI.
“He had been working on uncovering certain things they didn’t want him to know… I can’t really say what.” Ron Wagner said, apologetically.
“Sure.” Steve said, drearily.
“Sorry.” Ron offered, genuinely.
“I know… I understand. I’m sorry myself!” Steve offered back, equally genuine. But he wasn’t only sorry to Ron, his new friend. He was sorry to Jeff, too, sorry for his old friend, and his terrible fate.
“It’s alright. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Steve.” Ron assured him, meaning to soothe all the concerns he knew to be going through the other man’s mind.
“Thanks, friend…” Steve said.
“Have your Department arrested anyone for the murder of Jeff McIntyre?” Mark Sloan asked, remembering the young face of his son’s friend, back from the days when Jeff practically lived in the Sloans’ house.
“No. We can’t pin the blame on anyone. No evidence can be found…” Ron said, truthfully.
“But you have your suspicions?” Steve picked up on a certain tone in Ron Wagner’s voice.
“We think we know which Organisation it was, but we can’t be certain, and we can’t single out any one of the group’s members for arrest, either… Even if we did have evidence about this group’s involvement, we can’t arrest the whole Organisation, unfortunately!” Ron said, angrily.
“I wish you could!” Steve said, pain and anger evident in his voice, posture, and expression.
Mark put a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“So do we…” Ron Wagner, FBI Agent, and American Liaison to London, said despondently.
A few days later, Melody McIntyre persuaded Steve and Mark to let her take a walk on her own. She shut the door of Mark Sloan’s house, where he, kindly, said she could stay, under his professional supervision, and his son’s friendly support, until she was well enough to move back to her flat, and be on her own again…
The next time Steve Sloan saw her was a couple of hours later, when he and his colleagues had been called to a hit and run. Steve had gone into work for a couple of hours, to finish off some paperwork his boss had been badgering him about for ages. When he saw Melody, he wished he hadn’t gone. She had been the victim of the hit and run, and Amanda had just pronounced her dead. The car, which had only been spotted by three witnesses, seemed to have no registration plates, or distinctive markings. It was a black off roader that’s about all his three witnesses could say for sure. It had moved off quickly, not clumsily in any way.
His Dad ran across, from the other side of the cleared road, having been allowed to park nearby.
“Oh, no!” Mark said, wincing in pain at the sight of the broken body of Melody McIntyre. “I shouldn’t have let her get some fresh air!” He said, angry with himself.
“You can’t blame yourself, Dad…” Steve said, meaning every word. He knew his father would blame himself.
“I do, Steve! She obviously wasn’t ready… She must have just been too dazed to cross the road safely!” Mark said, desperately saddened.
“That’s just it.” Steve said, obviously thinking out aloud.
“What do you mean?” His Dad asked him.
“These witnesses said that they had just spoken to her… A group of tourists asking the time, and some directions… They say she didn’t seem distracted at all! ‘Kind and eager to help out’, is how one of them described her…” Steve told his Dad.
“That’s odd.” Mark Sloan said, his mind thinking things over.
“… And, in my opinion, the impact point where the car hit Melody McIntyre is far too concentrated and precise to be a case of accidentally hitting her, and then, panicking and driving off.” Amanda added.
“Ron, does what I’ve just described sound like the possible tactics of any of the terrorists you’re aware of…. Is it similar to any previous cases, solved or unsolved?” Steve asked Wagner, who sat the other side of his desk.
“Yeah… It’s like, whoever it was behind this whole thing, they have tried to distance themselves, and the two crimes, from one another, in the arrogant belief that neither can be attributed to them… That sounds like the style of one or two suspects! Leave it with me, Steve… I’ll get back to my colleagues in London, and see what we can figure!” Ron said, fired up by the possibilities.
“Meanwhile, I’ll see if we can trace that car!” Steve said, decisively.
“When did you take in this car?” Steve Sloan asked the car salesman, a very co-operative, ordinary guy… It made a nice change to realise that not everyone in this world was a crook.
“Two days ago… Some man asked if I could give him a part exchange deal on it. I didn’t think there was anything to be suspicious about, Lieutenant. The man in question gave me all the correct documents and records, unhesitatingly.” Car Salesman Fred Macello said honestly.
“What kind of car did you exchange this one for, Mr. Macello?” Steve inquired.
“A Chrysler, Lieutenant, a metallic blue model… I have my records for the car. They include its registration number.” Macello offered helpfully.
“Could I see those details, and the ones the man gave you for this car, please? Lt. Steve Sloan asked.
“Of course.” Fred Macello led the way to his records cabinet.
“What have you managed to find out, Ron?” Steve asked him, the two were back in Steve’s office.
“If you can find out who it was behind the wheel of the car that hit Melody McIntyre, we can start making some arrests.” Ron said, positively.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say! We’ve tracked the blue Chrysler to the garage of a known ‘entrepreneur’, and he told us that he changed the plates of just such a car… The garage owner thinks we’re going to be lenient on him with the charges we press! We’ve got officers following that car as we speak. They hope to bring it in very soon!” Steve said, hopefully.
“Let’s hope they manage it… It’ll be good news for everyone if they do!” Ron said, pleased to think that they might be able to finally snare these terrorists between them.
Back at Mark’s place, he, Steve, Ron, Amanda, and Jesse, all sat around, waiting to hear what Ron had to say…
“My colleagues in London say that the man in custody is a known member of one of the groups we’re aware of… The terrorist says that his Organisation recruited the ‘assistance’ of Jeff’s ex wife, Melody McIntyre, to plant the bomb, because, he says, ‘they became aware of her own eagerness to extinguish him’, and they used her. Having no previous links to the Organisation, she could not be traced, and they would not be risking the arrest of any of their members, known to us. The man says he was then ordered to come to America, where his fellow fanatics had managed to trace Melody McIntyre, and ‘get rid of’ her, so that she could not tell on them… They were even more afraid she might do that when they realised she was spending a lot of time with you, Steve.” Ron concluded.
“Oh, joy! I seem to attract the mad men, and women, of this world!” Steve said, only partly joking.
“I wouldn’t worry, Steve… The charged man ‘ratted’ on those he was meant to be loyal to for life… I don’t think they’ll come looking for you, planning revenge for the part you played in his arrest. He’s not worth it to them.” Ron assured his friend.
“That’s a comfort!” Steve said, sarcastically.
“Never mind, my friend… What d’ya say we all go & see how our employees are getting on… Nothing like Barbecue Bob’s secret recipe spare ribs to cheer a man!” Jesse offered.
“I don’t know…” Steve said, remembering the company he kept last time he was at his restaurant, so little time ago.
“Come on, buddy!” Jesse Travis said encouragingly.
“You paying?” Steve asked him.
“Ohhh…” Jesse realised he’d just walked straight into that, and he didn’t really have the money.
“Don’t worry, Jesse… My treat!” Mark Sloan proclaimed to all his friends, and, with that, he got up, ready to go!
THE END…
Story written 23rd March 01/Edited 29th March 01
Copyright: Bethany S. Heard, 01
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