"You know, there's one thing that still bothers me about this whole case."
Keeping his eyes on the road, Steve seemed in decidedly better spirits ever since they got into Modesto.
Ironically, it reminded Mike of the first time he tried to get Jeanie to ride a pony when the circus was in town, and the whining and crying he'd endure until she was lifted onto the saddle, and that sour attitude turned into sheer pleasure. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that Steve would shed any of his bad memories of the place and return to his usual lightheartedness, but at least the edgy attitude had slowly receded beneath a carefully crafted façade of his good old self.
"Only one thing?", Mike teased as they slowed down at a stoplight.
From his spot in the front bench, he watched his partner glance around, staring at sidewalks and nearby businesses, as if to familiarize himself with the old hometown once again. There was no telling what exactly was going on in the young Inspector's mind, but if his relaxed shoulders and faint smile were any indication, things were on the up and over.
"One particular thing."
Upon his correction, Steve sped up again, slowly making his way down the busy main street corridor.
"Mike, if we take a moment to set aside some of the misgivings voiced about San Jose PD, and assume that they did everything they could, and we assume that all the evidence that was found was properly processed and all that…it seems that we're dealing with somebody who's really good at hiding his tracks, right?"
"Mhm-hm."
"Well, in that case, don't you think it's a little strange that our killer would be callous enough to leave…not just one, but two receipts of his San Francisco purchases behind? I mean, from a purely psychological aspect, this would be like marking himself, giving away his lair, so to speak. It doesn't add up one bit. The first one could have been a fluke, but the second one?"
"Yeah, I was thinking about that too.", Mike admitted and pursed his lips, the conflicting information causing the wheels in his head to spin, "Could be that he's trying to mislead us…here, take a left on that next side street, G Street I think. Who named these roads?"
"Aw, come on now, don't you think I know where to go?"
Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Steve turned the large Galaxy northeast, where a small plaque below the street sign directed them to the Modesto Police Department.
"Okay, hotshot, okay…", Mike retorted soothingly, his gaze moving straight ahead again, as they pulled into the small parking lot behind the police department located right on the intersection of G Street and 10th. Constructed in an unusual Mediterranean farm house style, the beige buildings' stucco exterior and arched windows didn't fit the scenery well, as if its architect had wanted it to stick out from the crowd.
And it didn't disappoint in that aspect.
Two black and whites were parked alongside the road, the dented fenders and small rust spots speaking of a long service life. Not much other traffic could be found in the vicinity on that Friday afternoon, giving Mike hope that they would be in and out of the building quickly.
Risking a glance over at his partner, he noticed the young Inspector's ghostly pale features, as he stared straight ahead, his expression having turned to stone. And yet, Mike could almost hear Steve's heart beating frantically all the way on his side of the bench.
He reached over to put a hand on the nape of his partner's neck, shaking him slightly, not surprised when he flinched beneath his touch.
"You're going to be alright?"
Steve met his warm eyes, no longer able to conceal the worry running through his veins, poisoning his rational thinking and sending his whole body into panic mode.
"Sure, sure. I ehm…I don't think he's got the nerve to publicly ridicule me, call me a failure, dig up old dirt. He'd wait till he's at home for that. Can't ruin his stand-up reputation in front of witnesses."
The comment infuriated Mike tremendously, the sheer thought of the scenario playing out in front of his inner eye sending waves of anger through him.
Turning sideways and moving his hand over to squeeze his young partner's shoulder, massaging the tight muscles underneath, he sighed and glanced down, fighting to contain his own emotions and succeeding in masking them beneath the cloak of a halfhearted smile.
"You see, Buddyboy…the only way he could manage to ridicule you in any way, is if a part of you actually believed what he's saying. And we both know better than that."
Beneath the weight of the Lieutenant's hands, and the encouraging faith in his abilities, Steve nodded faintly, his green eyes becoming watery for a few seconds, until he blinked away the overwhelming anxiety and drew in a shuddered breath.
They quietly stared at each other, sharing the unspoken secrets of a burdensome past that had been expertly hidden for so long. Painful memories, words that had cut like knives into the soul of a vulnerable and innocent young boy so many years ago, a past that should be bulldozed and buried like the ruins of a burnt down building, never to be mentioned again.
But here they were, scratching the surface of one boy's traumatizing past, to save another one.
"Let's get this over with and then head on down to the school.", Mike finally said before turning back around and fumbling for his case file, "You're not alone, don't you forget that. Nothing will happen in there; I am going to make sure of that."