AN: Thanks again to all my readers who are sticking with this story and I'm glad you are enjoying it so far. I hope I won't disappoint anyone with whatever direction I end up taking (I have a general idea so watch for the "clues" and see if you can solve the case before our detectives do). This'll probably be my first real mystery that I've written where I'm going to try not to give away too much until I'm ready to. I'd like to thank the writers in this fandom who have inspired me to give this genre a try.

This chapter is for "EKWTSM9" because it is a TAD longer than my usual updates *wink* and "Dublin Writer" and "Shergar" who I believe (correct me if I'm mistaken) are fans of some Steve H/C after a little whumping!

Tanith

Chapter 11

Rudy met Mike's gaze as soon as the Lieutenant closed the file containing Steve's report and placed it on the desk.

Mike jerked his thumb at Steve and said, "Has he got himself checked out yet?"

Steve rolled his eyes and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Not yet but he has an appointment with the paramedics in right about, let's see..." For dramatic effect more than anything else, Rudy checked his watch before continuing, "now. They're probably waiting at his desk. I had arranged for Haseejian to make the call ten minutes ago."

"This day just gets better and better," Steve complained under his breath but unfortunately for him Mike caught every word and earned himself a withering glare.

"Do I need to box your ears, Buddy Boy? Well, don't just sit there! Get going! Go!" Mike barked.

Annoyed and ticked off with his superiors, Steve pulled at his already loosened tie and stormed out of the office without another word.

"Thanks, Rudy. At least that's one thing less I need to worry about," Mike conceded, sinking into his seat and feeling like he had just aged a few years in the last couple of days.

"Still no word on Jeannie?" Rudy inquired.

Mike shook his head in the negative. "No, and now someone's out there to get Steve too just to settle some score with me. I'm at the end of my rope here, Rudy, I won't deny it."

"Just remember one thing. The killer thinks they succeeded in killing Jeannie. She's still out there somewhere and we'll find her. We will find her!" Rudy asserted determinedly.

"I know and I won't give up until we do. It's just with each day, each hour that she's gone, its getting harder," Mike confessed.

"I don't doubt it. Listen, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"I'm listening."

"Until we catch the son of a bitch and lock him up good, there'll be a surveillance unit parked outside your place and Steve's. Although I'd prefer it if Steve stayed with you. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, especially after you get home from the office and your reflexes are down," Rudy propositioned. He had expected an argument of some kind and was both relieved and surprised when he received none. It just went to show how rattled his long time friend really was.

"I'll talk with Steve," Mike agreed.

"Good. If there's anything else I can do, just say it, alright? I'm not just talking about playing cops. I'm here for you, Mike. The entire department are. I just wanted you to know that."

"I know, Rudy. I know. And I appreciate that, more than you'll ever know."

Sylvia's visit was cut short when she told her aunt and uncle that she had to go and get ready for work. It was then to Martha's and Walter's horror that they discovered the diner in which their niece was a waitress at was the very same one where the body of the policeman's daughter was discovered. The shocking revelation caused the elderly couple to fret, particularly when the murderer was still at large.

"Really, you needn't worry. Both of you. I'm perfectly safe! The police are watching over the area and Kevin is picking me up from work tonight," Sylvia reassured.

"Oh, alright. It's just, well, you know how we worry!" Martha sputtered. She took the young woman in by the shoulders and drew her into her arms before releasing her and holding her at arm's length. "You take good care of yourself, you hear?"

Sylvia nodded and smiled. "Don't worry, I will. I really must go now or I'll be late." She kissed her aunt on the cheek and did the same with her uncle then shook Jeannie's hand. "I hope you remember who you are soon."

"I hope so too," Jeannie replied though she had the distinct feeling that Sylvia had taken a disliking to her for reasons she didn't disclose or made obvious. She was, therefore, both glad to see her leave but also uncomfortable and unwelcomed.

Martha closed the door behind her niece then turned to face Jeannie. "Kevin is our nephew. He's a few years older than Sylvia but they're quite close. He doesn't come by as often but I guess he's busy with his new job down by that youth centre. He teaches boxing and is leading a program to help young people stay out of gang trouble on the streets."

"Oh?"Jeannie smiled genuinely impressed by Kevin's career choice and silently wondered if he would be more open to her presence at the Hayes' residence than his sister was.

Still steaming over the events of the past twenty-four hours, Steve sat himself down on the sofa in Mikes living room, exhausted beyond words yet refusing to admit it out loud. His head was pounding, his throat was still a little croaky from being nearly strangled, his jaw felt like it had swelled up to the size of a watermelon and he was generally sore all over. As he had predicted, after the paramedics had given him a once-over at the station, thanks to Mother-Hen-Mike and Captain-Papa-Olsen, nothing appeared to be broken. Could've saved them the trip and told them that! While he still felt like a wrecking ball had pummeled into him, he knew all too well that the day after a physical altercation was always the worst, when his body had settled from the shock and registered the damage that was inflicted. It didn't help, of course, that he had a sleepless night and the tension throughout the day had coiled every muscle in his body, giving him cramps in places he didn't think he could get them. Leaning back against the head rest, Steve tried to relax his stiff muscles and allowed his eyes to droop shut.

"How are you holding up, buddy boy?" Mike asked with concern.

"Hmm...just tired," Steve mumbled a half truth of how badly he really felt. He had barely said a word throughout the drive to Mike's place, still feeling hot under the collar from being what he had referred to as mollycoddled.

Mike wished his partner would just admit it when he felt lousy rather than try to hide it and make light of the discomfort he was clearly in. "Why don't you take your shoes off, lie down and put your feet up, huh? I'll go and get you some ice, alright?" he advised before disappearing into the kitchen.

Steve groaned when the simple act of bending over and removing his shoes caused the bruised muscles in his midsection to protest in earnest. Wincing involuntarily and unable to suppress another pain filled moan, he laid himself down with his head resting against the cushions.

Mike returned as promised with some ice wrapped in plastic and a cloth. He sat on the edge of the sofa and handed the ice pack to his partner who thanked him. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," Steve muttered dejectedly. Torn between using the ice pack as a compress to quell the ache in his torso or pressing it up against his throbbing jaw, the young detective started to fidget with the wrapping instead.

"Hey, enough of that!" Mike berated sternly. "Are you still hurting when you breathe? Be honest now."

Steve shifted his weight and avoided eye contact. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Well, that medic said you might've bruised your ribs when you fell down the steps. So why don't you put some ice on that and remember those breathing exercises he suggested? Try those too. How's your stomach? You said you took a couple of hard hits in the gut."

"Yeah, I'm still a little sore but it's nothing I haven't experienced before. Seriously, Mike, will you just lay off? I'm fine."

"What about your head? Any more dizziness? Migraines? Nausea?"

"Mike! Will you quit it already? Just stop right there, please!" Steve lost his cool, though he knew Mike was only trying to help. And probably trying preoccupy himself with taking care of him when his heart was no doubt breaking over Jeannie's disappearance. Feeling guilty over his outburst, Steve mumbled an apology.

"Okay, okay. You just get some rest," Mike relented. He gave Steve's arm a pat. "I'm gonna go over those files and make some notes. If you're up for something to eat, I still have some left-over pizza I can heat up if you care to join me later. Just say the word."

Steve sighed heavily and nodded reluctantly. While he fought to stay awake, the battle was lost and sleep claimed him not long after Mike left the room.