Thank you for all the caring notes and reviews and such. It definitely means so much. I got a big weekend ahead on the farm because a friend brought a tractor over. I don't have one, so I look forward to having tons of fun and moving soil. So, I might be absent for a day or so playing with big toys.

Mike felt his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps as he reached the sidewalk and ran across the road after his suspect.

Somewhere against the rain, he'd heard the sirens of the Galaxy come to life, but the car was nowhere to be seen. Sprinting past an old deli, he tripped on a pothole and lost his balance, causing him to sidestep into a deep puddle that instantly flooded his leather shoe.

Cursing under his breath, Mike sped up his pace once again, hoping to gain on the fleeing man.

He'd just started to talk to a few homeless men when this guy stuck out against the crowd. Clean shaven, maybe twenty, wearing a poor disguise of a dark gray sweatshirt with a few holes in it and old leather boots.

Upon making eye contact and asking about two young girls, the man started to run. Mike had given chase through the park for several minutes and hoped that Steve would come in and help out to ensure an arrest.

So far, the young Inspector was painfully absent.

Sprinting down Anza Avenue, he felt the rain soak the rest of his clothes. The tweed coat had long succumbed to the monsoon that had plagued the city over the past couple of weeks; as far as the rest of his clothes was concerned, the corduroy pants and dress shirt were either soaked from the rain or his sweat.

Mike watched his suspect turn right at a cross street and run down a small concrete stairwell. By the looks of it, the steps led to a basement of one of the countless shops stacked on top of each other near the west side beach.

Squinting against the rain and fog, he could barely make out the head moving along the lower corridor next to the deserted sidewalk. Mike crossed the street, dodging a newspaper stand and a lantern as he approached the dark stairs.

Water was starting to pool on the ground, undoubtedly threatening to flood some basements soon if the rain didn't let up. Closing in on his suspect, Mike ran down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, when suddenly, his right foot landed off-center.

Trying to catch himself, he reached for the nearby metal railing, as the hard concrete ground came uncomfortably close into his sight.

Grasping the rail with a death grip, Mike managed to slow his fall enough to turn partially, before staggering against the support wall and landing hip first in a good three inches of rainwater.

"Damnit!"

Cursing out of frustration and from of the pain searing through his right knee, Mike used his left leg and pushed himself against the wall to stand up, when sudden footsteps coming from the road made him freeze in his spot, ready to draw his gun.

"Mike!"

To his right, Steve came barreling down the stairs, almost duplicating his fall if it wasn't for Mike's strong arm on his shoulder, steadying him and dragging him off to the side.

"Where the hell have you been? Where's the car?"

Blinking against his momentary confusion, Steve shook his head before running a hand through his wet hair.

"Car's not going anywhere right now. Are you OK?"

Waving at him dismissively, Mike pointed around the corner.

"I'm fine. See if you can catch that guy. 6'2", 180 pounds, gray sweatshirt, dark jeans."

Nodding, Steve sped off wordlessly and disappeared around the corner. Cursing his bad luck for the second time, Mike stood back up straight as his eyes fell on the step in question. Part of the concrete had broken apart, keeping the damaged portion in place at a skewed angle.

Carefully putting some weight on his throbbing knee, he bit the inside of his cheek, as the pain ran up and down the length of his leg.

"Damnit!", he cursed again, drawing in a deep breath of cold, damp air to settle his nerves.

Holding on to the railing, he leaned against the wall for support and took a step uphill with his good leg, letting the other one follow slowly. Grateful that he was at least able to put some weight on his bad knee, Mike made decent headway upstairs, when he heard footsteps behind him once again.

"Here, hold on to my shoulder."

Steve's arm appeared around his waist, steadying him carefully, as the young Inspector tried to catch his breath.

"You lost him?" Mike asked disappointedly, although he already knew the answer.

"There's a dozen or so townhouses around the corner. I don't know if he slipped into one of those or took the back alley. I followed the alley but didn't see anybody."

"Damnit. I was so close.", huffing in frustration, Mike reached around Steve's shoulder to take the weight of his knee as they continued upstairs, "Now what happened with the car? Why didn't you drive it here?"

"Oh, the car isn't going anywhere fast, we need a wrecker.", the young Inspector explained as they reached the sidewalk again, "Believe it or not, somebody put metal spikes underneath each tire during the stakeout, so when I tried to come after you, they all blew."

Looking over at his partner in annoyance, Mike released the grasp and leaned against the brick wall of the nearby store.

"What do you mean? You were in that car the entire time. How could you not have seen him? What were you doing? Twiddling your thumbs and eating sunflower seeds?"

"Hey, come on now. I had my eyes glued to the park entrance watching out for you.", Steve justified defensively and took a symbolic step back, "He must have snuck around from behind. I didn't see anybody."

"Damn it, Steve!", biting his lip in frustration, Mike straightened out his soaked clothes and looked down the street where their suspect had vanished, trying to breathe through his anger, "This guy had to have known what we were looking for. I bet he's been watching us for a while."

"What are you thinking?", Steve asked, his wet hair sending drops or rain down the side of his face.

"I am thinking that we're not the only ones looking for Chantal and that he wanted to get rid of the competition. Quick, let's call in support and radio the office, I need to talk to Rudy immediately."

Steve went to rush past him towards the car when he froze in mid motion. Despite the tense situation, he suddenly smiled, causing Mike to follow his glance farther down the road.

Parked along the street was an old yellow moving van. Rust covered most of the cargo area of the vehicle, but the company logo had recently been redone, reading "Black Horse Logistics."

"I told you that Psych lady was full of it. See where she gets here inspiration from?"

Grunting in satisfaction, Steve threw him a smug grin before jogging across the street.