A/N: I humbly ask for your forgiveness for the amount of time I let this story languish. I do have a very good excuse, I broke/dislocated my shoulder, which made it virtually impossible to type. That and other rl family health challenges had me shelved for some time. My rehab has now reached the point where I can one hand type. Progress will be slow and chapters will be short, but I will finish, never fear.
September 16, 1972 3pm
Steve was the only customer at the counter of the small coffee shop. It was directly across Van Ness from the Cathedral. As he nursed his second cup, awaiting Mike's arrival, he pondered his partner's cryptic statement. Granted, the nation's relationship with the Soviet Union was troubled, but surely the chill did not extend to the Orthodox Church in San Francisco. As far as he knew, Holy Trinity Cathedral dated back to the 1850's in the Russian Hill section of the city where he now sat.
When the twenty-something woman at the counter came to fill his cup for the third time, he decided to do a little recon of his own. He smiled warmly in thanks and took a chance.
"Hey, you know anything about the church across the street?"
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know, like how old is it? When's it open? Is it a busy place? You know, regular tourist stuff."
"You don't strike me as a tourist, why so interested? You a cop or something?"
"Gee, is it tattooed on my forehead? Second time I've been made for a cop this week before I even pulled out my badge."
"Educated guess. First, you drink this swill like a pro and there's that nice new bruise on your face, but mostly it's the threads, man. Too stylish for the locals, too dressy for tourists." The young woman grinned and giggled.
"I guess I'm going to have to talk to my tailor." He returned her smile and sought out her nametag. "Diana, pretty name, I'm Steve."
"Nice to meet you Steve and no, don't change a thing, you look great," she said with a wink. It was Steve's turn to grin. Diana continued, "It's just you're not the first suit asking about Holy Trinity. There was an FBI guy here, I don't know, about two weeks ago asking pretty much the same thing. And then there were these guys with Boris Badenov accents who were around before that."
"Really? What did you tell them?"
"Same thing I'll tell you, I really don't know anything about the place. I'm from Tacoma, just started here six months ago. I don't even live in this neighborhood, I just work here."
Not willing to give up, Steve continued the conversation. "I dig, but you must have noticed something in the last 6 months. Do you work on Saturday and Sunday?"
"Yep."
"So you see people going to services, right."
"Yep."
"So were they old people or young people?"
She thought a moment. "Mostly old men in black suits, stout old women in babushkas. There are a few young families, but it's mostly old people."
"Babushkas?"
"Yeah, those silk scarves they wear tied under their chins. My Babcia used to wear one to church all the time.
"Babcia?"
"Yeah, Polish grandmother."
"Well, I guess I learned something today, Babushkas huh? So, no younger single men or women?"
She was about to say no, but though better of it. "Funny, that's what the other suits asked. I really hadn't thought much about it, but every couple of weeks I would see groups of younger women, maybe late teens early twenties and groups of thirty something single men. Just for a day or two and then they would disappear."
"Did you tell the feds or Boris that?"
Diana smiled at the mention of the cartoon character, "No, I just remembered."
Steve pulled the picture of Jane Doe out of his pocket, "You ever see this girl?"
Diana looked at the picture, "I don't know, maybe. Like I said, they wouldn't be around for long, plus I see a lot of people waiting for the bus every day as well." She returned the picture.
Steve was about to ask another question when the bell on the door tinkled, announcing the arrival of Lt. Mike Stone.
Diana leaned in and whispered to Steve, "I don't even have to think twice about him, definitely a cop."
Steve laughed before introducing his partner to the young woman.
Mike sat down and Diana poured him a cup of coffee before disappearing through a door behind the counter.
"What was all that about wise guy?" Mike asked before taking a sip.
"Oh nothing. What took you so long?"
"Nothing, huh, we'll see. While you have been chatting up the young lady I was making phone calls. Trying to grease the skids with the clergy across the street."
Steve pantomimed mock insult to Mike's jab. "Yeah, about that. What did you mean on the phone, that it might be a problem?"
Mike took a long sip of coffee before he elaborated.
00000
Jeannie yawned and looked at her watch, surprised to see it was going on 10 pm. "Well, as compelling as this story is, I've got to call it a night, I still have to pack and my flight's at 8 am. I don't think I can handle two late nights in a row anymore." She bid them pleasant dreams, got up and took her wine glass into the kitchen, leaving Steve and Catherine on the porch. The sun had disappeared hours ago, leaving them in semi darkness. San Francisco shimmered in the distance, swathed in the glow of a multitude of incandescent streetlights.
Steve picked up the wine bottle and tried to split the dregs between Catherine glass and his own. Catherine quickly put her hand over her glass.
"I've had plenty boss, I've got to work in the morning."
Steve replied with a melancholy laughed. "Me too I guess, but not for very much longer."
"You having second thoughts, Doc?"
"Steve."
"Right. Steve. Are you having second thoughts about retiring?"
"No. Yes. Maybe. Hell, I don't know. I suppose it's the uncertainty. I have no idea what I'm going to do with myself. The only time I've had unstructured time was when I was hurt and frankly, I didn't handle it all that well. It scares me."
Catherine considered several trite platitudes, but in the end said nothing. They were both quiet for several moments staring back toward the city. There didn't seem to be anything left to say. Steve downed the remainder of his glass and held the door open for Catherine.
"Remember, I'm gonna to be late tomorrow. I'm taking Jeannie to the airport. If anybody turns up for office hours, tell them to come back after lunch and do me a favor, don't let anybody take over my office before I get back, ok."
Catherine gave him a thumbs up followed by a friendly hug before she made for the door. "You got it. See you tomorrow Dr. K."
Steve shook his head and resigned himself to always being Dr. K in Catherine's eye. He thought back on Jeannie's comment in his office and half wondered if his reticence to retire had something to do with his curly haired assistant.
