Diagnosis Pretender By Pamala Rush One rule in TV land is that the TV show that you are watching doesn't exist in the world through the screen. This story is a crossover from two shows I have been obsessed about at one time or another in my life. Diagnosis Murder and The Pretender. I just thought that it would be fun if Mark and Steve Sloan and the gang from DM met up with Jarod. I guess you could say that it is a product of my over active imagination. No S-E-X is involved in this story, so children and adults can enjoy it unless they can't understand it. It's kind of turned into something with a life of its own, so I hope everyone likes it. Any and all comments will be appreciated at Pammie918@aol.com Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to their respective producers et al. I'm only borrowing them to have a bit of fun with them. Detective Steve Sloan stood over the body of a man who lay dead in a pool of blood near his desk. He had a bloody bullet hole in his forehead. The dead man's eyes stared like glass marbles at the ceiling of the room and there was a look of horror in his face. "His name is Aron Drake and he was a major stockholder and CEO of Einrich Enterprises," Steve said. "His partner was Allen Richards." Steve's father, Dr. Mark Sloan, nodded and leaned over the body, hands protected by a pair of rubber gloves, making a thorough check of the body for clues. A smudge of pink lipstick decorated the end of the man's tie and a couple of red-gold hairs were tangled in the man's fingers. The hairs went into a plastic zipper bag and the tie was left for others to take care of. "Well, what do you think?" Steve asked finally. "They made a pretty big mess," Mark said as he pointed out the mess on the floor. "At first glance, it looks like it may have been a woman." "That what I thought," Steve told him. "Witnesses say he had a fight with his mistress last night. She has red hair." "What do you know about her?" "Well, her name is Elizabeth Morgan and she and our dead friend here had been having an affair for over a year," Steve explained. "Last month the pair was indited for embezzlement. Both denied the charges, but the proof is pretty overwhelming." "Who found the body?" Mark asked. "The secretary," Steve checked his notebook. "Stacy Coggins. She said she had stayed late and that the two had been arguing pretty loudly about the embezzlement charges last night." Mark nodded and pulled the sheet back over the man's body. "Any relatives?" Steve nodded. "A wife, Mary, and a son, Davis. I have to go inform her next." "Want me to ride along?" Mark asked. "That should be helpful," Steve replied. * * * * * * * * * A short dark haired woman with brown eyes answered at Steve's knock. "Mrs. Drake?" The woman nodded and Steve pulled out his badge. "I'm Detective Steve Sloan and this is my father Dr. Mark Sloan. Can we come in?" "Is something wrong?" Mary Drake said. "My son has the chicken pox and I don't want to wake him." "I'm afraid so," Mark said. "Can we come in?" he asked again. Mary nodded and stepped aside. Once they were in the living room, Mary invited them to sit down. "Can I get you anything?" Mark shook his head no. "It's about your husband." "He ran off with that bimbo, didn't he?" Mary said. "And the money that he stole from those clients." Steve shook his head. "No. Mrs. Drake, I'm afraid your husband has been murdered." With a suddenness that almost surprised the father and son, she sat down in a nearby chair. After several minutes of silence she said, "I knew someone would shoot him between the eyes one of these days." Mark knelt down beside the distraught woman. "We need to ask you a few questions," he said. She nodded. "Go ahead." "Where were you at about nine o'clock last night?" Steve asked. Mary's head jerked up. "You think I did it, don't you?" Mark shook his head as Steve answered. "We're just trying to rule you out." Mary nodded. "My son has the chicken pox. I was home all night taking care of him. He didn't sleep very well last night." Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "He's not going to sleep at all when he finds out that his daddy is dead." A knock at the door sounded just then and Mary went to answer it. She let the tall man in and burst out crying. "What's wrong?" he asked as he wrapped her in his arms. "Aron's dead," she answered. The man paled and asked how. "I saw him last night and he was fine." Steve showed the man his badge. "I'm detective Steve Sloan, homicide. Who are you?" "Allen Richards." "What time were you with Mr. Drake?" Steve asked him. "About eight o'clock," Allen answered. "He asked me to stop by this morning to get him for work. He was going to leave the car for Mary to take Davis to the doctor. Mary's car broke down last week." "Did you see anyone that might have done this?" Steve asked. "Lizzie was coming in just as I was leaving," Allen replied. "Lizzie? Who is she?" Mary pulled away from Allen and wiped tears away with her finger tips. "Lizzie is Elizabeth Morgan. Aron's mistress." Allen handed her a tissue and she blew her nose. "She used to be his secretary. About sixteen months ago I found out that they were having an affair. That was about the time they started stealing the money from the company. I was sure he would have run off with her before they got caught." "They got greedy," Allen said. "Lizzie was angry about them getting caught." Steve nodded. "I'll have a talk with her. I may need to talk to you further." Mary nodded. "I understand." "Are you all right?" Mark asked. Mary glanced at Allen then looked back at Mark. "I'll be fine." Mark and Steve left Mary with Drake's partner and got into Steve's car. Mark was puzzled. "Did you tell Mary how her husband died?" he asked. "No why?" Steve asked. "Just a thought," Mark replied. "Never mind." * * * * * * * * * Steve knocked at the door to the first floor apartment belonging to Elizabeth Morgan. Mark stood at his side. "Can I help you?" an older woman asked from behind them. "I'm looking for Elizabeth Morgan," Steve answered. "Do I have the right place?" "Yes," the woman said. "But she's not here right now. I'm her baby sitter." She had red hair streaked with gray and very sad eyes. "Baby sitter?" "She took Sierra for her three month checkup. I am supposed to be here when she gets back so she won't be late for work," the woman said. Steve pulled out his badge. "I'm Detective Steve Sloan. I need to talk to her about the death of Aron Drake." "I know Aron," the woman said. "He's Sierra's father. What happened?" "He was shot last night," Steve said as he watched a woman holding a baby approach behind the older woman. "Who was shot last night?" the newcomer asked. "Elizabeth Morgan?" Mark asked. She nodded. "Yes. Who was shot last night?" "I think we should go in and sit down," the older woman said. * * * * * * * * * Elizabeth sat in a chair near where Steve sat on the couch. The other woman, who had not given her name, stood nearby where Mark held the child, cooing and making silly faces to the grinning baby. "Aron Drake was found murdered this morning by his secretary," Steve told her. Lizzie's jaw dropped. "I... I... can't believe it." "I know he was having an affair with you," Steve said. "I need to know where you were last night." "I went to confront him about the embezzlement charges," she explained. "We had a fight, but we worked it out." "What time did you leave?" "I don't know, but I took a long drive and got home at about nine thirty to relieve my sitter." She gestured to the woman still standing behind her. The woman nodded. "She got back at nine twenty-six. I remember looking at the clock just as she walked in the door." "What about the rest of the night?" Steve asked. "I was alone with the baby all night," Lizzie told him. "Not much of an alibi, is it?" Steve shook his head. "I don't have the evidence back yet, but you are the prime suspect." "She sure is a cute baby," Mark said. "She's a good baby," Lizzie said and burst out crying. Mark handed Sierra to the sitter and put his hand on her shoulder. "Everything will be okay," he said soothingly. "It's just that things have been so rotten lately," Lizzie said. "I'm stressed out." "I don't blame you," Mark said. Lizzie held her head in her hands and breathed deeply a few times then looked up at the baby sitter. "You may as well go home," she said. "I'm going to call in sick today." The baby sitter nodded and handed the baby to Lizzie. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call," she said then took her purse and left through the glass porch doors. * * * * * * * * * Jarod sat in front of the computer with his usual red notebook in hand. On the first page was the article about money embezzled from customers of a development company. The second page told of the arrest and indictment of Aron Drake and his mistress Elizabeth Morgan for the embezzlement and tax fraud. Jarod was just a bit confused about the stories. Why would Drake and Morgan have waited so long to escape with the money, unless... Unless the couple were being framed for the crime. Jarod picked up the afternoon copy of the Ocean Tribune. The front page held a story about the murder of Aron Drake. The list of suspects was short, but the police, headed by Detective Steve Sloan were working on the case. More would be forthcoming in the future. Jarod picked up his suit Jacket and pushed his arms into the sleeves then picked up a leather briefcase and set a pair of wire rimmed glasses on his nose. With the other hand he shut down the computer and left the room. * * * * * * * * * Jarod reached to tap on the door of the apartment that belonged to Elizabeth Morgan. Before he could actually complete the knock, the door opened and a red haired woman with red eyes stood before him with a baby in her arms. Behind her stood two men who seemed to be leaving. "Elizabeth Morgan?" Jarod asked. At her nod he went on. "I'm Jarod Friday, Internal Revenue. I need to ask you a few questions about the back taxes you allegedly owe." "Now?" she asked. "I'm afraid so," Jarod replied. "If it doesn't rain it pours," she murmured. Feeling obligated to introduce the two men behind her she turned and gestured to them. "This is Detective Sloan and his father Mark. They're here investigating Alon's murder." "Nice to meet you," Jarod said to them. "I read about the murder in the afternoon paper. I hope you find who did it." "Thanks," said the younger Sloan. He then turned back to Elizabeth and warned her, "As a suspect in this case I must warn you not to leave town." "Understood," Elizabeth said with a nod. Steve and Mark left the young woman with Jarod. "Come in Mr. Friday," Lizzie said with a gesture to the door. Jarod followed her down a short hall to a living room kitchen area. At the end of the room that served as the living room, a row of windows wrapped around the corner, brightening the room their shades open to the trees of the park next door. A couch stood away from the wall opposite a luv seat. A coffee table stood between them and a chair made the cozy conference shape complete. Against the wall at the end of the windows was a TV on a wheeled cart. A collapsible crib stood behind the chair and Lizzie deposited the infant in her arms here. At the opposite end of the room was the small kitchen with sink, stove and refrigerator in a row along the wall opposite where Jarod had come from the hallway. An island with two stools against it blocked the view of any drawers or cupboards that may have housed the usual kitchen trinkets. At the far end of the kitchen section of the room was a sliding glass patio door that led to a patio complete with plastic furniture and barbecue. "Please have a seat," Lizzie said. "Can I get you anything?" Jarod sat down on the couch and shook his head. "No. I just need to ask you a few questions regarding this case." Lizzie nodded nervously and pulled a roll of candies out of her jeans pocket. Each separate little candy had a hole through the middle. She popped one of them into her mouth and held the roll out to Jarod. "Would you like a Lifesaver?" Jarod took a red candy from the roll and held it up to look at it. "Hmm. A candy that has a hole in it. Lifesavers?" Lizzie's eyebrows went up and she gave him a weird look. "You've never had a Lifesavers before?" "No," Jarod replied. "I had a kind of sheltered life. Why do they call them Lifesavers?" "I think it's because they are shaped like the lifesavers they have on ships," she told him. "They're also good for diabetics when they get low blood sugar." Jarod popped the small, round candy in his mouth. "They're good." Lizzie nodded skeptically. "Can we get on with this?" Jarod put his briefcase on the table next to rows of framed photographs and opened it then took a file folder out and closed it back up. * * * * * * * * * Miss Parker stood over Broots' shoulder watching as he tried to find out what Jarod had done with another million dollars of the Centre's money. "He sure is getting good at stealing money from the Centre," Broots offhandedly remarked. "Just shut up and find out where he was when he transferred the funds," Miss Parker growled as she took a puff of her cigarette. Broots tapped a few more keys and eventually found that Jarod had been somewhere in California when the money had been taken. "I can't get any more specific than that," he said as Sydney came up behind them carrying a file folder. "I have here a partial photo that you should see," he said. Miss Parker grabbed the folder from Sydney's hand and opened it up. The picture was a blur, but she could make out a right hand. A hand with a burn scar on it. "What is this?" "Our stalker," Sydney answered. Miss Parker looked back up at him. "All you can see clearly is a scarred hand. Do you want to tell me what this means?" "Remember the Dragon House?" Syd asked. Silence suddenly prevailed. "Kyle?" Miss Parker gasped finally. "Jarod's brother?" Broots said in shock. "Yes," Sydney answered. Miss Parker suddenly pushed the file back into Sydney's hands. "Kyle is dead, remember?" "There wasn't a body in the ashes," Sydney said. "I had been wondering if maybe he had gotten out somehow. I have proof." "Proof that could get Jarod back into the Centre," Miss Parker stated. "Broots, work on finding out where Jarod's last sting was. I'm going to Los Angeles. It's a good place to start. You can come, Sydney, or you can stay here. I don't care. Be ready in an hour if you're coming." Miss Parker tossed her hair and walked out of the room. * * * * * * * * * Jarod looked at lines of pictures that sat on coffee table. Pictures of family, friends and other loved ones were framed carefully and placed in a specific order. Lizzie came up behind him and spoke gently over his shoulder. "I've led a pretty rough life, but not for lack of people who care." She came around him and moved a couple of the photos. "I screwed my life up all by myself." A photo caught his eye. An older woman with streaks of gray in her red hair was holding baby Sierra. "Who is this?" Jarod asked as he picked the picture up gently. "Betsy, my baby sitter," Lizzie answered. "Sometimes I get the feeling that she's hiding from something." Lizzie shrugged. "That's probably because she cares so much about me getting myself into trouble." Jarod could hardly breathe so he just nodded. "Is something wrong?" Lizzie asked. Jarod looked up at her. "No," he said. "She just looks a lot like my mother." "Your mother must have been very important to you," Lizzie said. "I never knew my mother," Jarod replied as he set the picture back down on the table top. "I was taken from her when I was very young." "I'm sorry," Lizzie said. "How do you know what she looks like then?" Jarod pulled the oft-looked-at photograph from his pocket. "I was able to get this some time ago. I've been looking for her ever since." "This does look a lot like her," Lizzie said and handed the picture back to him. She let Jarod recover for a minute before speaking again. "Could we get the business you came to speak with me about out of the way?" * * * * * * * * * Amanda Livingstone wrote the last bit of information about the dead body lying on the cold metal table in the chart and closed the file that housed it. Mark and Steve were waiting for this in Mark's office and she was already late with it. Hurriedly, she moved through the corridors toward Mark's office almost clobbering an orderly in the process. "I'm sorry," she said. "No problem," the orderly said as he wiped a scarred right hand through his hair. He watched Amanda as she went along her way then went back to his mopping. Amanda arrived in Mark's office breathless to find that Dr. Jessie Travis was waiting along with Mark and Steve. Jessie was an eager young intern that had taken to Mark's tutelage with a vengeance. He was an apt replacement for Jack to the crime solving team that they had just sort of become. "Here you go," she said as she handed the file folder to Mark. Steve and Jessie leaned over his shoulder to view the folder's contents as Amanda folded her arms across the chest. "The thing that bothers me the most about this was that the bullet, a .45 caliber, went through between his eyes and came out the top of the back of his head." "So they were sitting when they shot him?" Steve asked. "Possibly," Amanda replied. "Either that or they were short. I'd say under five foot tall. But there is still something wrong with the whole thing that stinks." Mark nodded. "I know. But, that _is_ consistent with someone sitting." "The chair of the victim's desk was pulled out," Steve said. "They probably _were_ sitting." "You still think it was the girlfriend," Mark said. It was not a question. "She's the only one without an alibi for the time he was murdered," Steve said as his beeper went off. "And she had a motive." "That doesn't necessarily mean she's guilty," Jessie put in as Steve picked up the phone and dialed the number that had been on his pager. "It doesn't necessarily mean she's not either," Steve said then turned his attention to the phone call. "This is Sloan.... Yes... You found the gun?... Where?... It's a match?... Registered to who?... No prints?... Yeah, well thanks." He hung up the phone. "They found the gun near Lizzie's apartment and it was wiped clean," Steve told the others. "It was registered to Elizabeth Morgan. It looks like we have our culprit." "Do you really think that that woman could actually murder someone in cold blood?" Mark asked. "If you can give me a better suspect, I'll look into it," Steve said. "In the meantime, a warrant has been served for her arrest." Mark sat in his chair thinking as Steve left. "She didn't do this," he said. "I can feel it in my gut. Something about our little visit with Mrs. Drake bothers me." "Then what do we do now?" Jessie asked. "Find the real killer," was Mark's reply. * * * * * * * * * Jarod breathed slowly as he sat in his car outside Elizabeth's apartment. He was still trying to get over the fact that his mother was actually in the same city as he was. Sitting there he watched as a plain car and a marked police car pulled up near Elizabeth's first floor apartment. The detective he had met earlier, Steve Sloan, got out of the plain car and went to the sliding glass door of Lizzie's apartment and knocked. Elizabeth came to the door and spoke to him for a minute as a uniformed officer joined them from the marked police car. Seconds later, she began to cry as the detective handcuffed her and turned to lead her to the car. Jarod got out of his car and rushed over. "What's going on?" he asked Lizzie. "I'm being arrested for murdering Aron," she replied. "Is there anyone to take care of your baby?" he asked. "No," she replied. "I let the sitter go, and she doesn't have a phone right now." "We can't just leave the baby," Steve said. "Would you keep an eye on her?" Lizzie said to Jarod suddenly. Jarod was a bit surprised. "Me?" "I was going to suggest calling my father," Steve said. "Are you sure you could trust this man?" Lizzie nodded. "I have a sixth sense about these things." She turned back to Jarod. "Will you?" Jarod nodded and gave her a tight smile. "I would be happy to. Is she still sleeping?" Lizzie nodded. "You will let me call to check up on her?" she asked Steve. "I'm not so sure about trusting your sixth sense, but if you're comfortable with leaving your baby with this man," Steve nodded. "Sure," he said and put her into the marked car. As the car drove off, he pulled a small business card from the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote a number on it. "If you need any help, my dad is at this number. I'll let him know you may be calling." With that, Steve got into his own car and pulled off. Jarod looked down at the card. Steve had written *Mark Sloan--Community General 555-6987* on it. Jarod turned and went into the apartment to make sure that the baby was still asleep. * * * * * * * * * "I got it," Broots said into the phone. "I've got a location on Jarod." "Great," Miss Parker said as she glanced up at Sydney. They were en route from LA International Airport to the city proper. "Where is he?" "In LA," Broots answered. "The only other thing I got from the files was the word Friday." "Friday?" Miss Parker asked. "Is that supposed to be a joke?" "No," Broots said. "Maybe it's the day he transferred the funds or something." "The date was on a Sunday, you idiot," Miss Parker said exasperatedly. "Are you sure that was all you got?" "Well, it originated from an IRS office," Broots said helpfully. "Will that help?" "Well, it won't hurt," she said and clicked the cell phone off in Broots' ear. "You're welcome," Broots said and got up to leave the room. On the way out he didn't notice the pair of eyes peeking from behind the vent screen. * * * * * * * * * Miss Parker told Sydney about what Broots had said then turned to direct Sam to go to the nearest IRS office instead of their hotel. "I want to find out what he's doing now," she said. In front of the office, Miss Parker ordered Sam to stay in the car and she and Sydney went inside. At the counter, she pounded on the bell until a woman in a neatly pressed suit came and slid it from under her hand. "May I help you?" she asked. Miss Parker pulled the same picture of Jarod that she had shown clear across the country and back from her pocket. "Have you seen this man?" "Yes," the woman replied. "That's Jarod Friday. He was investigating a case involving tax evasion and embezzlement. The male subject was found murdered yesterday morning and the female subject has been arrested for the murder. He kind of disappeared after that." "Great," Miss Parker murmured. "Can you give me an address on Jarod?" "I guess so," she said and turned to another desk to dig through some papers. "Why are you looking for him?" "Let's just say that he's having family problems," Sydney said. Miss Parker gave him a dirty look. "Here it is," the woman finally said. "Since you're here about his family I'll let you have it. We usually don't do this kind of thing." "Thank you," Miss Parker said politely. * * * * * * * * * Jarod balanced Sierra in one arm as he knocked on the door with the other. The plate on the door said *Dr. Mark Sloan Chief Of Staff.* Mark Sloan himself answered. "Mr. Friday," Mark said as he invited the younger man and child in. "Steve told me to be on the lookout for you. Is there something I can do for you?" "I'm told that you have a copy of Mr. Drake's autopsy report that I could take a look at," Jarod said. Mark looked the man up and down before deciding that this man could be trusted. They were, after all, trying to do the same thing, clear Lizzie Morgan of the charges against her. "Sure," Mark said and rifled through the papers on his desk. "Is there any reason you need it?" "I'm pretty good at figuring things out," Jarod told him. "I thought I might be able to help prove that she didn't kill her lover. I'm close to proving that they didn't embezzle that money." "That's something I never thought I would ever see," Mark said as he handed the file to Jarod and took the baby so his hands would be free to go through the information. "An IRS agent who's on the client's side." "You don't find too many of us, do you?" Jarod said with a smile as he perused the file. "Would it be possible for me to get a copy of this?" Mark nodded. "Go ahead and take that copy. I'll just get another from Amanda. Are you sure you don't want me to explain anything to you?" "I think I can figure it out," Jarod said as he tucked the file into his briefcase and took Sierra back from the doctor. Sierra cooed. "She seems to like you," Mark pointed out. "I guess I just have a way with children," Jarod replied. "Your son gave me your number, so I'll give you a call if I need anything else." Mark nodded and Jarod left the room and started down the hall. His walk down the corridor took him past the nurses' station and to the elevator. As he boarded the elevator someone in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked over just as the door closed to see a familiar girl in a nurses uniform. As the elevator went down to the parking garage he realized where he had seen her. The yellow cab drove past and he saw that the woman with red hair from the video was inside with two other people. It stopped not far in front of him and the woman got out. "Mom!" he called as he froze on the sidewalk. The woman turned and saw him then began to cry as she put her hands over her mouth in disbelief. Behind her a young red haired girl stuck her head out of the yellow cab. 'My sister,' he thought. Jarod adjusted the baby and began jabbing at the buttons. When the elevator finally took him back to the floor he had just left, she was nowhere to be found. He walked back down the hall past Mark's door he came to the end of the hall and turned around and walked back. Mark came out of his office just as Jarod passed it the second time. "Is there something wrong?" Mark asked. "I thought I saw someone that I knew," Jarod replied absently. Mark nodded and patted him on the shoulder. "Maybe she went to another floor." "Maybe," Jarod said and walked back down the hall past an orderly, not noticing the man in his search for the girl. The orderly rubbed his nose with his right hand. A burn scar was prominent on the back of the hand near the thumb. * * * * * * * * * "You killed your lover because he had embezzled money into an account with your name," Steve said to the woman who sat in the chair before him. "I never killed anyone," Lizzie said. "I don't even own a gun. How could I?" Steve picked up a file and opened it up. "According to these records, you bought a gun three weeks ago-- the same one used to murder Aron Drake-- and registered it in your name." "Did you find my fingerprints on it?" Lizzie demanded. "No," Steve replied. "But we found it in a trash can near your building." "I don't exactly like guns, Mr. Sloan," Lizzie said. "The evidence points to you," Steve replied. "And you don't have an alibi for the time that Drake was killed." Lizzie groaned. "I'm in over my head, aren't I?" "I would say you are," Steve said. "But if it makes you feel any better, my father is checking out a few leads on his own. He doesn't think you are guilty." "No it doesn't feel any better," Lizzie said as she looked up at him. "You do think I'm guilty." "The evidence points to you..." "But do you think I did it?" Lizzie interrupted. Steve was silent for a moment before looking her straight in the eye. "No, I don't think you did it. Not since talking with you." "That _does_ make me feel better," Lizzie told him with a smile. Steve smiled back. * * * * * * * * * At Lizzie's apartment, Jarod was looking at the post-mortem photographs of Aron Drake held in one hand as Sierra played with the fingers of his other hand. The angle of entry and exit didn't look right. The supposition was that she had been sitting in Drake's office chair, but photos of the chair at the scene didn't make things add up. Jarod figured that it was time for a bit of experimentation. He sucked on a Lifesaver as he used computer models to measure the angle of entry and exit. After several experiments Jarod decided that with the five foot nine inch tall Lizzie sitting in the chair, the angle of entry was too high, yet when he looked at the same woman shooting from a standing position, he saw that the angle was far too low. "Elizabeth Morgan couldn't have killed her lover," he said to no one in particular. "She's too tall." * * * * * * * * * Miss Parker flipped through Jarod's latest red notebook. It had two articles about a couple that had been arraigned for embezzlement and tax evasion. There was a newspaper laying on the table next to the red notebook with a front page story about the murder of the man and how his mistress had been implicated in his death. "This place is a dump," Miss Parker said as she looked around the room. "Not a trace of Jarod," Sydney said. "It looks like we only missed him by a few hours." "So what's new?" Miss Parker snorted. "I don't think he's left town though." "What makes you think that?" Syd asked. Miss Parker picked up the newspaper. "If he's trying to help this girl, she in deeper trouble now." Sydney took the paper from her and scanned the contents. "According to this article, a Detective Sloan is in charge of the investigation." Miss Parker lit up another cigarette. "Maybe we should have a talk with this Sloan. Does it say where he can be found?" Sydney nodded. "It does give a precinct number." "Good," Miss Parker said. "Sam, let's go!" * * * * * * * * * Doctor Amanda Livingstone spent her days in the morgue. Today she was going through the autopsy report for Aron Drake trying to figure out what she saw wrong when a tall, dark and handsome stranger came in holding a small baby girl. "Hello handsome where have you been all my life," she murmured as she stood and walked over to him. "Is there something I can do for you?" she asked him a bit louder. "My name is Jarod," he told her. "I've been investigating the alleged embezzlement of funds from some of Aron Drake's clients. Dr. Sloan gave me a copy of the autopsy report on him. " "I was just working on that," Amanda told him. "What do you need to know?" Before Jarod could speak, a voice behind them interrupted. "I bet you're that IRS officer... uh..., Friday." Jarod turned to find a short, thin man with a lab coat on. "This over eager young man is Dr. Jessie Travis," Amanda introduced. Jarod adjusted Sierra and shook Jessie's hand. "Pleased to meet you. I am Jarod Friday, yes." "Probably here trying to prove the dead guy guilty, huh?" Jessie said. "Jessie," Amanda said warningly. Jarod smiled. "Actually, I'm trying to prove someone else did it. I think that our culprit may be the same person who really killed Drake." He handed Sierra to Jessie and pulled a file with his findings in it out of his briefcase. "I was hoping to get a second opinion about this." He handed it to Amanda and she opened it up as Jessie cooed at the baby. "I was just pondering this myself," Amanda said. "According to the angle of entry, the bullet was fired from a height of about three foot six inches "That would be too high for someone sitting in a chair," Jessie commented. "And too low for someone standing at the height that Elizabeth Morgan stands at," Amanda said. "Five feet nine inches should bring the firing height up to, say, four foot eight inches which, in turn would make the bullet angle a bit straighter through his head." "My guess is the murderer was at least a foot shorter than Elizabeth," Jarod said. Sierra started to fuss so Jessie bounced her a few times. "Are you a pathologist or something?" he asked. "No," Jarod replied. "But I was a coroner once." Amanda looked him in the eye. "You're serious?" Jarod nodded. "Dead serious. So to speak." "I bet it was the wife," Jessie said. "Mark said she was pretty short." "But what about the red hairs in his fingers?" Amanda asked. "Lizzie had said that they had made up," Jarod said. "How would you make up with someone you were having a tet a tet with?" Jessie asked. "Oh," Amanda said then comprehension hit her more fully. "OH! You know I was looking at that myself. How'd you figure it out so fast?" "I'm good at puzzles," Jarod said and took Sierra back from Jessie. "I've got to get her some dinner," he said. "I'll let you know if I come up with anything else." With a nod, he was gone. * * * * * * * * * Miss Parker exited the elevator at Community General Hospital with Sam and Sydney close behind her and stopped at the nurses station. "I'm looking for Dr. Sloan's office," she asked the white-coated doctor who stood there. The young man looked up. "Hi, Mark's office is down this way. Do you want me to show you where it is?" "Fine, whatever," Parker said. "I just need to see him." "Come on," he said as he led the way down the hall. "Is this about the Drake murder? Jarod said...." Miss Parker grabbed him by the shirt front. "You know Jarod?" "Yeah," the young man said nervously. "He told Mark that someone would eventually come looking for him." "He's probably not even expecting us," Miss Parker said with a big smile as she let go of his shirt front. "What's your name?" "Uh, Jessie Travis," the doctor said with a tug to his shirt that somewhat straightened it. "Is there a problem?" asked an older doctor who was also in a lab coat from behind Jessie. "We're looking for Dr. Sloan," Sydney said. "I'm Dr. Sloan," Mark said. "What can I do for you?" Miss Parker pulled the picture of Jarod from her pocket. "Have you seen this man?" "Jarod," he said. "What do you want with him?" "Let's just say that we've been looking for him for awhile," Miss Parker said. "Then you're the folks who are looking for him?" Mark queried. "Yes," Sydney said. "Last I saw him, he was in the morgue," Jessie said. "I hope you're not saying what I hope you're not saying," Miss Parker said. "What? Oh no, he's not dead," Jessie said. "He was talking to the pathologist." "Is he still there?" Sydney asked. "Probably not," Jessie replied. "He said something about needing to feed the baby." "Baby?" Miss Parker asked. "What baby?" "I don't know but she sure is a cutie," Jessie replied. "Is that all you need to know?" Mark asked. "If that's all you can tell me that I don't already know," Miss Parker replied. Mark shrugged. "That's all. Sorry." Miss Parker turned and stalked off without a word. "Thank you for your help," Sydney said as he shook each man's hand. "Sydney!" Miss Parker growled as she stood in front of the open elevator. "I'm coming, Miss Parker," he said as he followed her away. "I'm beginning to wonder what kind of trouble this Jarod has himself into," Jessie said. Mark patted Jessie's shoulder. "So am I, Jessie." "Nice legs though," Jessie commented as the pair turned to walk back down the corridor past the orderly with the burn scar on his hand. * * * * * * * * * Steve Sloan walked down the corridors of the hospital toward his father's office. Mark had called him to say he had proof that Lizzie Morgan had not killed her lover. "Well, where is this proof you've got for me?" he asked as he entered the office. Jessie and Amanda were there as well. "Right here," Mark said as he handed the file that Jarod had brought to Amanda to him. "Mr. Friday figured this out this morning and brought it while Amanda was still looking at the problem." "What exactly am I looking at?" Steve asked. Amanda was the one who answered. "Graphics depicting the actual shooting." She spread three sheets of paper out on the desk. "This is the angle of entry of Lizzie was doing the shooting from the chair," she said as she pointed to the first. She pointed to the second chart and went on. "This is the angle of entry if she was standing. Now consider the fact that she is five foot nine inches tall. I almost can't believe that I hadn't seen this before." "So," Steve shrugged. "So," Jessie interrupted. "The third graphic is the actual angle of entry. Too high for the shooter to have been sitting...." Steve suddenly got the picture. "Too low for it to have been Miss Morgan." "Exactly," Mark said. "So Mr. Friday figured this out. Did he happen to tell you who really did it?" was Steve's next question. "I have an idea and I think he does, too," Mark said. "Remember our conversation with Mrs. Drake?" "Yeah, what about it?" "Did you tell her the method used to murder her husband?" Mark asked. "No," Steve answered. "You didn't either." "But she knew," Mark said. "I think she said something about him getting a bullet between the eyes." "Right," Steve said. "I never even noticed." "Niether did I," Mark replied. "Now I think it's time for a house call." * * * * * * * * * Mary Drake opened the door at the knock to find Mark Sloan there. "Dr. Sloan, what are you doing here?" "I thought I would check up on your sick child. Davis is it?" Mark said. "He's got chicken pox, right?" "Yes," Mary replied. "You really don't have to do that." "I know how rough it is when a kid's got chicken pox," Mark said. "Emotional upsets can often make it worse." "Well then I'll have to let you take a look at him," Mary replied as she stepped aside to let him pass. She led him through the living room where Mark and Steve had told her about her husband's death and down a carpeted hallway to a little boy's bedroom decorated with science fiction posters and toys. "Davis," she said as she shook the boy gently. "This is Dr. Sloan. He wants to see how you're doing." The boy rubbed his eyes with mittened hands. "Can I take these off now?" "I don't see why not," Mark said as he pulled the mittens off the boy's hands. "How do you feel?" "I itch," Davis said. "You usually do," Mark replied as he pulled a stethoscope from his bag. "Can I listen to your chest?" Davis nodded and sat up. "Mom I need more lotion," he said as Mark warmed the listening piece and placed it against the boy's speckled chest. "I'll be right back," Mary said as she left the room. Mark listened to his breathing then put his scope back in the bag. "Can I ask you something?" Mark asked the boy. "Sure," Davis nodded. "Does your mom take good care of you?" Davis nodded. "My dad was gone all the time. Mommy told me yesterday that he isn't coming home anymore." "I know," Mark said. "I heard about that." "I think mommy knew he wouldn't come home," Davis said matter-of-factly. "Why do you say that?" "Because when she came home the night before, she told me that when I got better we were gonna leave," Davis said. "She was gone night before last?" Davis nodded. "She left right before I was 'posed to go to bed and came back really late. Like after Letterman." "You watched Letterman?" "Don't tell mom," Davis begged. "Don't worry," Mark said as he gathered his bag. "I won't tell." At that moment, Mary returned. "The rash is a bit worse than normal, but I don't think that there's anything to worry about," Mark told her. "I'll show you out," Mary said as she sat the bottle of calamine lotion on the bedside table next to a plastic Millennium Falcon. "I'll be right back to put the lotion on," she told he son. "Stay here." "Where am I gonna go?" the boy said with a shrug. He picked the Falcon up and began flying it around his room. Mary rolled her eyes and followed Mark out of the room. "I hear that they arrested Lizzie Morgan for Aron's murder." Mark nodded. "So far she's the only suspect." "I told him that she would do something like that," Mary said angrily. "Now she's shot him between the eyes and probably took off with that money that they embezzled and put it in some Swiss bank account." She looked momentarily surprised at herself, but it was gone as fast as it had come. Mark saw the look and decided to ask another question of the petite woman. "It'll be a struggle for you," Mark said. "But a woman like yourself will definitely make it." A look of relief flashed across her face as fast as the surprise had only seconds before. "I'll be fine," she said. "You're sure not short in anything," Mark stated. "Except maybe height. How tall are you anyway?" "Four foot six," she said then shook her head nervously. "That's a bit of a personal question isn't it?" "I was just curious," Mark said. Mary nodded. "Well, thank you for stopping by," she said. * * * * * * * * * Jarod tapped away at his computer as Sierra cooed from her seat on the table nearby. "Let's find out what happened to the embezzled money, now shall we?" Jarod cooed back at her. Sierra smiled at him. On the table was a copy of the registration form that had been filled out for the gun which had murdered Aron Drake as well as several other sheets of paper, all with examples of Lizzie Morgan's handwriting and Aron Drake's handwriting on them. Jarod was sure that he could prove that neither Lizzie nor Aron hadn't actually registered the gun. Someone else had, Jarod was sure of it. The handwriting didn't match up with either one of them. He input codes into the computer then and got out of it something that made him smile. He looked over at Sierra and said, "I think I've just found what I've been looking for. Your mommy and daddy didn't steal the money." * * * * * * * * * Jarod lay the envelope full of the hard copy he had gotten on the embezzlement on Mark Sloan's desk and left the room. He was walking down the corridor toward the elevator when it opened and Miss Parker walked out followed by Sydney and Sam. He ducked into the doctor's lounge before she could see him. "Is there something I can do for you?" Jarod turned to see Amanda sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. "Oh, Jarod," she said as she realized who it was. "Is something wrong?" "There's a woman out there who is looking for me," Jarod told her. "Could you keep her busy while I sneak past her?" "Sure, but why is she looking for you?" "Long story," Jarod said. "Her name is Miss Parker." Amanda nodded and went out into the hall calling Miss Parker's name. Jarod looked through the shades as Amanda led Miss Parker toward another corridor. Jarod exited the room and headed to the staircase. "Dr. Sloan told me that you were looking for someone named Jarod," Amanda was saying. "He not here." "He was here," Parker said impatiently. "He WILL come back." Jarod moved casually to the door to the staircase and was only a few feet from it when he was spotted by Sam. "Hey!" Sam hollered. "There he is!" Parker turned. "Jarod!" She ran toward the door. Several things happened next and all at once. Jarod ducked down out the door as the trio started in his direction spinning poor Amanda in circles. The orderly with the scarred hand tripped Sam with the broom he was sweeping with and he fell to the ground. The elevator opened and Mark, Steve and Jessie came out just in front of Miss Parker who promptly ran into him. They were discussing a report that Steve had found on his desk after he had had the pleasure of releasing Lizzie and watching the tearful reunion of her and her baby. Steve ran smack dab into the topic of the report. "Get out of my way," Miss Parker growled. Steve grunted. "I can't." "Why the hell not!" "Because you're under arrest," Steve replied. He handcuffed her as she protested vehemently. "See, I told you that it was the woman," Jessie said. "I never forget a face. Or a set of legs." "What am I under arrest for?" Miss Parker demanded. "A woman fitting your description has allegedly been gun running," Steve said as he pulled her gun from the back of her skirt. "Well, well. You should have sold this one too." He pulled her into the elevator leaving his father and Jessie to discuss the capture. Anger filled Parker's eyes as she shrieked, "Jarod, I'll get you for this." "I'll be there as soon as I can to bail you out," Syd said with a smile on his face. A red headed nurse had witnessed the whole incident from the nurses station. "Time to move on," she murmured as she snuck out the stair door. * * * * * * * * * Angelo finished tapping the retraction to the notice he had sent out on the police net the day before. 'That should help Jarod,' he thought as he crawled back into the air vent. * * * * * * * * * Mark held up the papers that Jarod had left on his desk. Jessie and Amanda had joined Mark and Steve for a celebratory steak dinner, cooked by Lizzie as a thank you, on the back porch of the Sloan's beach house. "These have saved an innocent woman from going to jail for life," Mark said. "As well as proving that Mary and Allen Richards were framing them for it," Jessie added. "And I thank you from the bottom of my heart," Lizzie said as she got up from her chair. "Too bad Mr. Friday couldn't be reached. I would have liked to have thanked him as well." She handed Sierra to the nearest person, which happened to be Steve. "Here hold her while I go check on the potatoes." "Here dad take her," Steve hurriedly tried to pass her off. "You're doing fine," Mark said. "I think I'll go help Lizzie." Steve started to turn to Jessie and Amanda. "If you ask me," Amanda said. "I think she's fine where she is." "Yeah," Jessie agreed. "Besides, I think she likes you." Steve looked down at the cooing baby as her mother and Mark came to stand in the door. "She does, Steve," Mark agreed. The baby was in an awkward position in Steve's arms, but she seemed perfectly happy there. She babbled her baby talk and looked up at him with a smile. "Whatever happened with that woman you arrested at the hospital?" Jessie asked Steve. Steve looked up from the baby's face. "There was a glitch in the system and it turns out that the whole thing was a big mistake. She was a bit peeved when her friend came for her, but at least she didn't threaten to sue." * * * * * * * * * Jarod stood out on the beach and watched as the group on the porch of the beach house laughed, talked and generally enjoyed themselves. In his hand was a copy of the Ocean Tribune with the front page headline, "Woman Cleared of Murder and Embezzlement Charges. Victim's Wife and Partner Implicated Instead." He smiled gently before walking back down the beach to where his car would take him to his next pretend. He didn't see the someone watching him. Lizzie's baby sitter watched him through binoculars from a bluff. Behind her stood a man and a younger woman with red hair. "I was right," the younger woman said. "That's him. That's Jarod. Isn't it?" The older woman clutched the binoculars to her chest and nodded. "Yes it is." The man took her in his arms and led her away. As they passed the other woman she took the binoculars from her. She looked through them at the slowly retreating Jarod. "Someday we will be a family," she said. "And then I will never let you out of my sight again." She lowered the glasses and followed the others to their car. THE END