The thick finger traced over the thin black lines against the green background. "Okay," Haseejian said slowly, bent over the map he had laid out on Mike's desk, "I can see two possibilities…" He looked up apologetically into Devitt's hooded eyes. "Ah, it's a big park, Captain." He was trying not to cast aspersions on the other man's somewhat faulty memory. "So, ah, we have Edward here… and Eldred way over here." He straightened up. "Do either of those names ring a bell?"

Devitt's frown got even deeper and he made a low growling sound that both Haseejian and Healey chose to ignore. The captain's blue eyes slid towards the sergeants and he pursed his lips. "They both do." He ran a frustrated hand over the back of his head and growled again. "Damn it!"

The others waited.

Finally Devitt spun on them. "All right, I'm getting sick of this 'Ten Little Indians' scenario, so this is what I want to do. I'm sending you both down there… that whole safety in numbers thing. And I don't care how long it takes, I want you to find everybody - Steve, Mike, Jeannie, all of 'em, you hear?" Even though the question was rhetorical, both sergeants nodded.

Devitt looked at his watch. "It's too late for you to start out now, you'd get down there in the middle of the night." He thought for a couple of beats. "I want you to leave just after midnight so you get there first thing in the morning." He looked down at the map. "It makes sense to go to Edward first, it's closer. Use one of our cars, bring your guns and badges. And pack a bag; this might take longer than we think." He paused for quick beat. "This is a now a formal SFPD investigation into the disappearance of two of our own… but play it by ear. Only make yourselves known, and throw your weight around, if you need too."

Both sergeants were nodding. "We know what to do, Captain. Don't worry, we can be the soul of discretion if we have to be," Healey smiled.

Devitt's blue eyes slid towards Haseejian, who grinned back, nodding. "Yeah," the captain muttered dryly, not entirely convinced.

"Don't worry, boss," the Armenian sergeant assured, "we won't come back unless we bring them back with us."

# # # # #

"You found something?" Steve asked as he crossed to the second cot and sat, facing his partner.

Mike had taken his right foot off the cot and sat forward, trying not to wince. "I think so."

"Are you okay?" the younger man asked quickly.

With a sigh, Mike bobbled his head guiltily. "Yeah, I just spent too much time bending over the paper and I, ah, well, I aggravated my ribs. They're a little sore." His right hand, still holding the pen, gravitated to the left side of his chest.

"You sure that's all it is?"

The older man glared at him through narrowed eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Well, that and the fact the bandages have shifted a bit and they seem to have gotten a little tighter, so that's not helping." He squirmed slightly.

Steve got to his feet. "Then why don't take them off and I'll re-wrap you. And you can tell me what you found." Without waiting for consent, he gestured at his partner. "Take your shirt off."

With a scowl, Mike put the pad and pen down and started to undo his shirt. "Did you go see Jeannie?"

"I did," Steve chuckled, "and she's doing great, she really is. She's worried about you, of course," Mike began to growl as he worked on the buttons of his shirt, and Steve continued quickly, "but I told her you were fine and not to worry." He reached into a pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. "Here, she wrote you another note."

Mike froze, his shirt half off, took the note and put it on the bed beside him. "I'll read it later."

"Okay. So what do you think you found?"

"Well, I think your suspicion that our Mr. Seddon comes from a, well, a 'connected' family is on the money." He shrugged out of his shirt; the bandages had indeed bunched up in places and were digging into his skin.

"Oh yeah?" Steve took the clips off the top bandage and started to unwind it.

"Yeah, but I don't think the family name is Seddon. I think it's Chisholm."

"Chisholm?" Steve echoed, removing the top bandage and starting to work on the second. "Humh? I've seen that name on a couple of businesses in town. A real estate company, I think, and a feed and garden store."

"Yep, you're right," Mike nodded, holding the dressing in place over the wound as Steve rolled the bandages. "There're ads in the paper. There's also an ad for a Chisholm fishing supply store and an ice cream shop. But that's just the ones I could find in the paper. There are more listed in the yellow pages."

"They seem to have their fingers in a lot of pies," Steve noted as he pulled Mike's hand away from the dressing to have a look at the wound, wondering if another dose of iodine, as unwelcome as that would be, was needed. Thankfully it wasn't, and he put Mike's hand back. "Raise your arms," he ordered quietly as he started to wrap the bandages again.

"Yes, they do," Mike continued. "Now, if our Mr. Seddon is related, and I think he is, then he's probably a grandson, a daughter's offspring."

The younger man grunted. "Hunh, that makes sense."

"Yeah, 'cause there's only a couple of Seddons in the phone book but a lot more Chisholms. And I have a feeling that there are even more Chisholms that are not in the book." He looked at Steve and raised his eyebrows. "You know, the ones who really wield the power."

Steve nodded. "That makes sense."

"And not only that," Mike continued as his partner went about his ministrations, "I'm getting the feeling that this town has a, well, has a real problem with our Mr. Seddon but doesn't know what to do about it."

Steve, who had finished with the second bandage, sat back on the cot, frowning. He picked up Mike's shirt and held it out. "How do you figure that?"

Smiling enigmatically, the older man took the shirt and started to put his left arm in the sleeve. He stopped for a beat, running his hand over the bandages across his chest, and smiled. "Wow, that feels a lot better. Thanks."

The younger man nodded. "You're welcome. You were saying…?"

"Oh, ah," he put the shirt on but left it unbuttoned as he reached for the Eldred Gazette, opened it to a specific page, folded it and handed it to his partner.

Steve, tearing his eyes from his partners', looked down. There was a column called 'Police Matters'. It seemed to be a list of calls and complaints that the Eldred Police Department had received or answered in the past month. From a quick scan of the first few bullet points, Steve could see calls to answer trespassing and burglary complaints and traffic accidents. There were a couple of notices about excessive noise and drunk-and-disorderly complaints as well. No names were listed. Frowning, he looked up at the older man.

With a mirthless smile, Mike pointed at a couple of items lower down. There were two statements he had circled. One was a domestic violence complaint; the other was a vague reference to a physical assault. Both notices ended with the phrase 'No charges were filed'.

Steve looked up. "You think this was Seddon?"

Mike nodded once, sharply. "I'd make book on it. The way that car was sitting just outside the washroom door, the engine running… the way he had Jeannie pinned to the floor… that wasn't his first time."

The younger man's eyes had drifted away and he nodded softly. "Jeannie said the same thing."

Her father froze briefly. "She did?"

Nodding, Steve met his eyes again. A short silence filled the air between them then Mike whispered. "Damn it…" He ran a weary hand over his face and exhaled slowly. "I have a feeling that little bastard has been getting away with it for a long time…"

"And the town's been turning a blind eye…" Steve finished the thought.

"So it seems…" Mike shrugged helplessly. "When one family owns about half the town, and the economy is as bad as it has been…" He tilted his head with a facial shrug. "I guess you can take a lot of abuse if your very existence depends on it."

The younger man nodded. "But why pin his death on you?"

With a loud exhale and a snort, Mike leaned back against the pillows behind him. "I've been thinking about that. And the only conclusion I can come to is… as obvious as it sounds… is I'm the scapegoat."

Steve stared at him from under a frown. "So, what? You think somebody finally got fed up with Johnny Seddon and put a bullet in his head -"

"And I was an easy target to pin it on because, maybe, I was the first person to really fight back, that Seddon had made a miscalculation when he went after Jeannie… I don't know."

"But whoever was with him, in that car, they shot you…?"

"Yeah, and I think that was a miscalculation too. I think that was done in panic, because whoever was behind that wheel honestly thought I was going to beat Seddon to death…" Mike's focus had drifted away, as if he was reliving those horrific moments after he found his daughter on the washroom floor.

"Would you have?" Steve asked softly after a few seconds.

Mike looked at him. "Kill him?" When the younger man nodded, he shrugged. "I've been thinking about that too." He looked down and inhaled deeply. Then he nodded. "Yeah… yeah, I think I would have…" He took another deep breath. "I think the person in the car knew that, and they panicked, that's all…"

"So, what about the .38 they say you used on Seddon and they planted in your car?"

Mike looked at his partner and a wry smile curled his lips. "I think the calibre is a giveaway."

Steve frowned and cocked his head, trying to read between the words. "You think Hogan was in on it?"

Mike raised his eyebrows. "Don't you?"

After a beat, the younger man nodded. "Yeah, I've been wondering about that too…. It sure would explain a lot, wouldn't it? You seemed to be the perfect patsy: you had motive, you were incapacitated after the accident so they could plant the evidence, and, at first blush, you seemed like just a normal older guy with his daughter, not a homicide detective… which, in hindsight, was their first big mistake…" He sat up a little straighter. "I really have to find a phone. This is getting too big for just you and me, isn't it?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah, it sure is."

Steve glanced at his watch, then looked away, obviously thinking.

"What?" his partner asked.

"I'm trying to decide if I should chance going back to my car to get my gun."

"Why wouldn't you?" The older man sounded worried.

Steve smiled with grim inevitability. "Because I'm sure my every move is being watched… and I have a feeling if they find me with a gun, that there'll be some obscure law on their books that says only their own police officers can carry a handgun in this town and I'll end up in here with you and then what happens?"

"That… or they push you into defending yourself… and call it a justifiable shooting…."

A grim, gut-wrenching silence lengthened between them as they stared into each other's eyes.

Mike swallowed heavily and looked down, blinking quickly. He knew better than to try to talk his partner out of what they both knew he had to do. "You keep your wits about you tonight and you don't take any chances, you hear me?"

Steve stared at him with a soft and appreciative smile. "I won't, I promise…" He inhaled deeply then straightened up, determined to change the mood. "Listen, uh, I have a bit of time to kill. Why don't I go get us some decent food for dinner?"