All that thinking, the open-minded constructive dialogue, even a few minutes of blankly staring at the map of San Francisco to see if they'd missed anything right in front of their eyes had done little to aid their progress on Leanne Harrison's startling murder case.
Eventually, Mike's firm approach to keep looking for answers, to find the clues that hadn't been discovered before, to tie what little evidence they had to show for together in different ways had yielded nothing more than mental exhaustion, closed minds and circular conversations.
Several times throughout their discussion, Steve had sensed his partner's temper beginning to flare whenever Kammers questioned his logic, pried about how the evidence was gathered and why certain facts mattered to the Lieutenant, while others didn't.
Even though he knew the Staff Sergeant was merely trying to learn from the seasoned detective's conduct of business, it was clear that these two starkly different personality types would continue to cause friction and tempers to clash, the aftershocks thereof disrupting the entire bullpen.
It wasn't the most pleasant thoughts to fill his mind come noon and Steve was grateful when his phone rang, pulling him away from yet another agitation-filled questionnaire of what exactly Bernie defined as lack of defensive wounds.
Completely aware of the curious eyes tracing his escape from the lion's den and the ensuing heated conversation drawing the attention of all the other detectives their way, Steve bridged the distance to his desk in a hurry, hoping to catch the caller before he hung up.
"This is Inspector Keller?"
"You've got time for a 10-7L, Inspector?"
The raspy voice on the other end soothed his tension almost immediately and Steve held the receiver closer to his ear, as he bent forward, trying to disguise the conversation from any inquisitive bystanders.
"I…I guess I don't know. We're in the middle of a case…", he began and turned around when he heard the cadence in Mike's voice raise significantly, "Then again, we're not getting too far here. Maybe I should take a break. Give me the place and time and I'll be there."
# # # #
"Four hours into this day and we already drove your partner out of here with our bickering…"
A tense silence had befallen Mike's office for several long moments after the latest conversation regarding gathering of evidence and when exactly Charley's group downstairs got called into a case. The continuous bombardment of question had irritated him more than it should, mostly because Kammers appeared to have made it a goal to put each of his procedures under the microscope.
While Steve seemed to approach the behavior as genuine interest into their line of work, Mike couldn't shake the feeling that far more than just his procedures were being questioned by the Staff Sergeant.
"By the time our…conversation turns into bickering, you'd be out of this department faster than these guys out there jumping on a box of doughnuts."
Mike could tell the harsh tone had hurt Kammers feeling when she pursed her lips to a thin line, before nodding slowly, the fingers on her case file tapping a rapid rhythm.
"I have a sixteen-year-old son from my previous marriage, Lieutenant Stone. His name is Felix.", the Staff Sergeant then said quietly, her eyes tracing the corner of Mike's desk deep in thought, "Ever since he began High School, he's been going through hell for having a cop as a mother, one who's rising up in the ranks to make matters worse. I can guarantee you that he has heard every single derogatory remark for cops and women by now and it infuriates me. I honestly could care less if people yell these obscenities at my face, heck, I've been spit on and shoved enough times during patrols. But the fact that parents…grown adults who should know better taught these kids the meaning of these…these horrible words and that they use them to make my son's life hell is beyond reproach. We have moved from a society that handles disagreements face to face to some distorted world where we create armies of like-minded individuals to declare war on those we disagree with, down to shaming their friends and family publicly, aiming to create the most mental and physical harm possible. My son hasn't slept through one night since starting high school. He's been having anxiety attacks when he sees me dress up for work. During his nightmares, he screams for people to stop hurting me just because I am a woman."
Mike glanced up when her voice broke for a fleeting moment, before her professional and emotionless façade returned immediately- minus the silent tear disappearing below her jawline.
"I guess what I am trying to say is, Lieutenant, that you have made it very clear what you feel is right or wrong, who should be doing this job and who shouldn't, just like many of the parents of those kids that are hassling my son. I respect your world views. But please also understand that times are changing and that many women, just like me, feel like they have been trapped below a glass ceiling. We've worked twice as hard to get the same job done and all we ask for is the same treatment in return. The same pay. The same respect for our rank. While I don't expect you to change your stance on the matter for the duration of our professional cooperation, can I at least ask that you respect my decision to aim for something that has never happened in this city before, and that I want to be as prepared as humanly possible to handle the challenges that will undoubtedly be thrown in my way?"