"Okay, it's not Wilma, it's not your old girlfriend, let's see who else we have…"
Steve could barely hear Mike's words through the rushing of blood in his ears. As new findings about their case began to trickle in at a dizzying pace, making room for an equally bizarre and disturbing image of what was going on, he was beginning to feel overwhelmed.
Logically speaking, he knew that he'd given Mike every piece of psychological information necessary to foresee their killer's next step. And yet deep inside, a sullen voice of insecurity was beginning to grow louder by the minute, making him doubt his assumptions and consider backtracking his ideas until he wasn't so sure anymore that their killer would even strike again.
As he heard the Lieutenant shuffle some paperwork around behind him, Steve continued to glance into the bullpen, watching Sekulovich sort incoming mail and warrants while Tanner answered a phone call a couple feet away. Several new faces nearby were busy writing reports or making copies. As he clenched his jaws, trying to silence to voice of doubt, he never heard Mike stop in his tracks until the Lieutenant cleared his throat.
"You know, if you'd spent half the time you waste questioning your intuition with helping me over here, we'd have our killer by now."
Chuckling at the stern, yet caring words, Steve turned back around to face his best friend, painfully aware that Mike was reading him like an open book.
"That obvious, eh?"
"Mhm hm.", the Lieutenant answered and smiled warmly, "Everytime you start to doubt yourself, you get that glazed-over look in your eyes and scratch your chin like you're hoping it'll help your beard grow…Let me remind you of something Lenny doesn't seem to do often enough…this is nothing new. This is something you have done for a long, long time. And you're very good at it, otherwise Lenny wouldn't have taken you under his wing. He sees a lot of potential in you, just like everybody in this office. Okay, so this is your first solo case without his help, but so what? In the grand scheme of things, the only difference…the sole difference here is that you traded the streets for a cozy office. Your…your gift never changed, it never left. If anything, your additional classes and your time with Lenny only strengthened it. And something inside you knows that too, or you wouldn't have taken on that Staff Psychologist position, now would you?"
When he nodded slowly, Mike leaned back in his chair and stretched out his arms before crossing them behind his head.
"See, problem solved. Now, please, get over it and help me go through our remaining names. We have a lot of work to do, Buddyboy."
Smiling broadly, Steve shamelessly relished in the pep talk from his former partner and joined Mike by the desk, reaching for one of the three remaining files ahead.
"Samantha Wilks…twenty-four years old…works as an intern at the gun range…", the Lieutenant mumbled and put on his black-rimmed reading glasses to study the file closer, "Looks like she went to Berkeley for a few years to pursue a degree in criminology but dropped out…did you make her drop out?"
When they both chuckled for a few seconds, Steve shook his head, trying not to let the melancholy of the moment and the many memories it brought up get the better of him.
"I couldn't tell you, Mike. I would have to check my records. They've become scarily lenient on who they let in, so she'd have to do pretty poorly in my classes to fail.", he explained absent-mindedly and stared at his own file, surprised to recognize the name, "Erica Holmer…what's she doing in this pile anyways? I guess it's because she works in Records?"
At his words, Mike glanced up, eyebrows raised.
"Well, obviously she did fit our realm of suspects. Ironically enough, she helped me gather all the info on our three previous victims."
As he tried to listen to Mike and read at the same time, Steve fell quiet, his eyes scanning through the short bio and a few side-notes, especially about the one of her husband, who'd passed away three years ago.
"Did you know a Jim Holmer?"
Frowning, Mike reached for his cold cup of coffee, a set of steel-blue eyes scanning him curiously.
"Holmer…you got anything else on him?"
"Not on here, this is just a basic bio, but says he's Erica's husband. Well, was. She's widowed. Says here that he died three years ago. That would have been shortly after Dan became your partner. I was just wondering if there is a connection."
"Hold it…hold it one moment.", Mike cautioned, one finger on his lips, "Mike Holmer…that does ring a bell…give me a second…"
Encouraged by the progress, Steve lowered the file and watched the Lieutenant intently, practically hearing the gears in his mind turning. As his blue eyes stared straight ahead at some invisible spot on the wall, his entire body became still, allowing all resources to be channeled to that remarkable memory of his.
Suddenly, a solemn expression filled his warm features. Steve watched him put a hand in front of his mouth, as he relieved whatever disturbing memory was reappearing in front of his eyes.
Then, without another word, he stood up and glanced into the bullpen at one of the desks in the far corner by the vestibule; one that was now occupied by a middle-aged Inspector.
"That ties it, Steve…"
It would be the only words escaping Mike's lips for several long seconds, as the Lieutenant paced the confines of his office, tying all the loose ends together in his mind. Eventually, he reached forward to grasp his elbow, tighter than usual and with a slight trembling in his hand, and motioned for the nearby phone.
"Get a hold of Roy. We need to meet in his office right away."
