A half hour later, Sam had finally fallen into a light sleep.  Occasionally he’d mumble something under his breath or stir restlessly but, for the most part, he remained quietly asleep.

The nurse had come in twice during that time checking Sam’s vital signs each time.  Thankfully, this time there were none of the same problems he’d experienced with the earlier transfusion.  Al breathed a sigh of relief for that.

The nurse had just left the room after once more checking on Sam when there was a soft knocking on the door.  Al turned around just as the door pushed open and a tall, light-haired man poked his head in the room.

“Can I help you?” Al asked as he got up from the chair and approached the man.  There was something about the man’s features that was familiar but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

“I’m Lt. Steve Sloan,” the man said.  He opened the leather case that his badge was in and showed it to Al.  “I’m a detective with the LAPD.  I’d like to ask Dr. Beckett some questions about what happened earlier.”

“Sloan?” Al questioned as he looked carefully at the badge and ID..

“Yeah,” the detective said with a slight smile.  “You probably met my father earlier.  Dr. Mark Sloan.”

“Ah,” Al said in sudden understanding.  Now he knew why the man’s features looked so familiar since he strongly resembled his father.  “He’s sleeping right now.  Do you think you could do this later?”

“Al?  Who is it?” Sam’s sleepy voice asked contradicting what Al had just said.

“It’s a police detective,” Al explained going back over to stand by the bed.  It didn’t pass his notice that Lt. Sloan stopped just inside the opened door.  “He wants to ask you some questions.”

Sam darted his eyes over to the man standing by the door and then back to Al.  “Oh,” was all he said.

“I can tell him to come back later,” Al suggested not wanting Sam to be discomforted by having to relive the day’s events if he wasn’t ready.  “You’re supposed to be resting right now.”

“No,” Sam said with a shake of his head.  “Let’s just get it over with.”

Hearing Sam’s consent, Lt.. Sloan came further into the room and approached the bed.  “I’m Lieutenant Steve Sloan,” he said holding his hand out to Sam.

Sam accepted the handshake then fumbled for the controls to bring the bed up.  “Sloan, that’s my doctor’s name,” he said once he’d brought the head of the bed up so that he could face the man comfortably.

Steve smiled slightly at Sam’s words having just had a similar discussion with Al.  “That would be Mark Sloan.  I’m his son.  I have a few questions for you, Dr. Beckett, if you’re up to it?”

“Yeah,” Sam said nodding his head.  “I don’t know how much help I’ll be though.”

Steve sat in the chair that Al had been using earlier and pulled out a notebook and pen.  Al went over to the window behind him, sitting down on the ledge.  If he thought the questioning was getting out of hand, he was going to make sure he was there to put a stop to it.

“You might be more help than you realize, Dr. Beckett.  We’ve been after this guy for a couple of weeks now.  You’re the first person who’s had a run-in with him and lived to tell the tale.  Chances are, if you hadn’t walked in when you did, he probably would have killed that girl.”

Sam swallowed heavily and, if possible, blanched further at Steve’s words.  “I’ll do what I can,” he said in a strained voice.  “What do you need to know?”

“Well,” Steve began, pen poised over the notepad, “why don’t you just tell me what happened and we’ll go from there.”

“Yeah, sure.”  Sam licked suddenly dry lips and looked around for a cup of water or the ice chips from earlier.  Before Steve had a chance to hand him the cup, Al was up and by his side.

“Still no water yet, Kid,” he said as he offered a spoonful of the ice chips to Sam.  After two more spoonfuls, Sam indicated that he’d had enough and Al returned to his seat on the window ledge.

Sam took a couple of moments to compose himself before beginning his accounting of what had happened.

“When I walked into the mini-mart I noticed the guy in front of the counter with a pretty big knife.  The girl…” he trailed off remembering the girl for the first time.  “Is she ok?”

“She’s fine, Dr. Beckett,” Steve assured him.  “You’re the only one who got hurt.”

Sam nodded slightly.  “Good that’s good.”  He paused for a few minutes before continuing.  “I asked what was going on but I knew…at least I think I did.  You don’t hold a knife on someone like that for no reason.  I don’t think he’d heard me come in and when I asked, I think it startled him and he turned in my direction.  I thought maybe if I talked to him or something the girl would have a chance to get out.  I don’t know…I guess he panicked because before I realized what he was doing, he ran at me and felt this burning pain in my stomach.  I guess that’s when he stabbed me.  I think he ran out then but I don’t really remember much after that.”  He stopped them squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a few seconds before opening them.  “I’m sorry, that’s all I really remember.”

Steve finished writing in the notebook then looked up to Sam.  “It’s more than we’ve been able to get so far.  Like I said, you’re the only person who’s survived.  He usually waits until there’s only a clerk in the mini-mart, takes whatever cash is there and stabs the person to death.  So far we don’t even have a description of him.  As a matter of fact, we weren’t even sure it was a he until now.”

“If no one’s lived who’s seen him,” Sam asked, “how do you know it’s been the same person?”

“It’s been the same scenario eight times in two weeks,” Steve explained.  “The likelihood of it being different perpetrators just isn’t there.

“Oh.  So, how can I help?” Sam asked hitching himself higher in bed.  As he did, a small grimace of pain crossed his features.

“You saw him, right?”  Steve waited until Sam nodded his agreement before continuing.  “We need a description of him.  You think you give me one?”

“I think so,” Sam said with some tentativeness.  “I did get a pretty good look at his face for a couple of seconds.”  Again he grimaced as he felt a ripple of pain.  This time Al took notice and decided it was time to interfere.

“That’s enough for now,” Al stated firmly.  “He supposed to be resting.  You can get a description from him later.”

“Al, I can…” Sam started to say but he was cut off.

“No, Sam.  You’re supposed to be resting and I can see you’re starting to feel some pain again.  This can be done later.”

“Your friend’s right, Dr. Beckett,” Steve said rising from the chair.  “You do look like you’re in pain.  I don’t want to make you more uncomfortable.”  He started to back away toward the door.  “If you’re up to it, I’d like to get a sketch artist in here tomorrow to work with you, maybe have you look through some mug shots.”

Sam first shot an irritated look in Al’s direction for calling a halt to the interview before responding to Steve.  “Yeah, that’d be fine.  I really want to help you catch this guy any way I can before he can hurt someone else.”

“Well, we’ll certainly appreciate any help you can give us.  Try to rest, Dr. Beckett and I’ll be back with the sketch artist tomorrow.”  The detective put his hand on the door and started to pull it open before turning back to Al.  “You wouldn’t happen to be Admiral Calavicci, would you?”

“I am,” Al responded.  “Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem.  I just have a few questions I need to ask you.  Would you mind joining me outside?”

“Yeah, sure.”  Al stopped by the side of the bed and rested a hand on Sam’s shoulder.  “I’ll be right back, Kid.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam responded with a wry smile.  “They have me tied down, remember?”

“Yeah, well, just try to get some rest.”  With a final look back at his friend in the bed, Al followed Steve out the door to the corridor.

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