Jeannie was right: nobody got a good night's sleep. She had pulled her cot as close to her father's as she dared, knowing he didn't want her hovering. When he turned his head and shot her a scowl, she knew she was close enough.

Steve had retrieved his flight bag from the Porsche and settled in on the cot in the other cell, laying so he could keep an eye on both Stones through the bars. He knew how much they were hurting emotionally, and his heart was heavy with the realization that there was only so much he could do to help them get through this devastating ordeal.

Mike had a hard time trying to find a comfortable position that didn't aggravate the pain emanating from the left side of his chest. He had admitted to himself hours ago that he needed medical attention but he also wanted to make sure things had been settled, for the most part anyway, before they could watch this disturbed and broken little town vanish in their rearview mirror.

And he was more worried about Jeannie than he was letting on; he knew she was suffering, and he also knew there was nothing he could do for her at the moment. He hoped that when they finally got home, and he could talk to someone who had experienced a similar assault, that he could finally help his daughter deal with the horrific nightmare she had been forced to endure.

And, he hoped, maybe help himself in overcoming the staggering sense of guilt he felt that he had allowed this to happen to his daughter.

Eventually all three fell into an exhausted sleep; not nearly long enough, but better than nothing. Steve was the first to wake, and he slipped out of the cell room quietly. As he was returning from his visit to the washroom, flight bag in hand, he heard the key in the front door and Fletcher led Collins into the station.

The captain smiled. "You're up early… or did you just not sleep at all?"

Steve snorted softly. "I think I got a couple of hours. You guys are here early."

Collins nodded. "Yeah, we want to get things wrapped up today so we don't have to stay another night."

The San Francisco cop dropped his bag on a nearby desk and leaned against it. His eyes briefly passed over the bloodstain on the floor, a stark reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded the day before. "So, ah, so what's going to happen here now?"

"You mean who's gonna become the new chief?" Fletcher asked.

Steve nodded.

The state police captain shrugged. "Well, we're gonna take over for now. CSP will patrol the town until they can get an election together. We talked to the mayor last night -"

Steve smiled vaguely to himself; he'd have to tell Healey the town really did have a mayor.

"- and he was against the idea of one of the two deputies taking the post, even temporarily. They're both still too young and inexperienced, especially in the wake of everything that's gone on. And to be perfectly honest, we're not even sure what their level of complicity is, so that's something that still needs to be explored. Anyway they're going to put a tender out and see if they can get someone with a law enforcement background to apply, and then have an election if there's more than one response. I think it will be a good idea for them to bring in someone who has no ties to the town, all things considered." He shrugged in frustration. "Anyway, who knows how long that's gonna take but the CSP will fill the gap until it does."

Steve was nodding slowly, staring into the middle distance. "This town is going to be facing a very uncertain future, isn't it? With the Chisholms maybe out of the picture entirely now… I wonder what's gonna happen to the town."

Both state police officers shrugged; Collins sighed heavily. "You know, part of me feels sorry for them, but another part of me feels they're getting exactly what they deserve."

Steve looked at him and snorted. "Yeah, that's how I feel too. Not a very pleasant feeling, is it?"

Collins shook his head. "No, it sure isn't…"

All three let a melancholic silence settle for a few seconds, then Fletcher looked at Steve again. "You know, I was thinking about what your partner said last night. And I do understand completely where he's coming from… with regards to Chisholm… and I respect his concerns… and I am going to leave it to the D.A. to make the final decision… But I am going to recommend that Chisholm be arraigned on kidnapping and weapons charges. Hell, he could be charged with assault for what he did to Mike, as we all know, but I'll keep that out of the equation, for Mike's sake."

Steve nodded. "I agree. Thank you."

Fletcher acknowledged the confirmation with a one short, sharp jerk of his head. "Oh, by the way, the ADA last night issued a warrant for Doctor Rivers, and he's been taken into custody on a variety of charges, not the least of which was desecration of a human corpse and tampering with evidence. You know, because of the supposedly 'life-saving measures' he performed on Johnny Seddon to 'save his life' but was actually done to recover and dispose of the bullet that killed him and substitute the one from the .38. So this town has to find itself another doctor as well."

The inspector exhaled loudly, dropping his head and shaking it sadly.

"Yeah," Collins sighed, "and that might just be the tip of the iceberg. I'm sure there's other people in town who were part of the coverup but that's for a little further down the road. For right now we have the deputies to worry about. And then there's Dottie and the guy that runs the motel, and we're going to be talking to all the girls Seddon assaulted - well, all the ones that'll talk to us - and see if we need to make any more arrests."

"Mike uncovered a wasp's nest," Fletcher said softly.

Steve's head came up. "Unintentionally. I'm sure he wishes it never happened, at least not to Jeannie."

"Yeah, I bet he does." Fletcher closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Anyway, ah, Norm and Dan were just coming out of their room when we left so they should be here shortly. They said something about stopping by the diner and picking up some baked goods and coffee for everybody first. And we'll help you get Mike and Jeannie squared away and… well, you guys can hit the road for home." He frowned. "You, ah, you're going get Mike some medical attention…?"

"We're going straight to the hospital the minute we get to San Francisco. He doesn't get a choice in the matter, no matter how much he complains."

Fletcher and Collins snorted. "Boy, does that sound familiar," the sergeant chuckled, gesturing with a nod towards his partner behind the other man's back.

The captain rolled his eyes when Steve tried to mask his smile. "I'm assuming Mike and Jeannie are riding in the LTD and not that sweet little ride out there." He glanced over his shoulder at the front door. "That's your Porsche, I'm assuming…?"

Steve chuckled self-consciously. "Yeah, that's mine."

Collins frowned. "Just how much do they pay you guys up in 'The City'?" he asked with a smirk and a head bobble that took the sting out of the words.

"You have no idea how many times I've had to answer that question since I bought the damn thing. And my answer is always the same - I'll still be paying for that little baby even after it makes that tow-truck assisted final trip to the junkyard."

Both CSP officers laughed, moving deeper into the room, getting ready to start their day. Steve picked up his bag and headed for the cell room, their laughter following him through the door.

Jeannie was awake and was just sitting up. She glanced at him as he crossed to the first cell door and put her right index finger up to her lips. As he got closer, frowning, she whispered, "I want him to sleep as long as possible," nodding over her shoulder at the other cot. Mike's eyes were closed and his breaths deep and even; he was obviously still asleep.

"Good idea," he whispered back.

She had changed into her flannel pajamas the night before, and she put on her flip-flops, gathered her belongings and stuffed them into her duffle bag then picked it up. Steve grabbed her arm when she started for the door.

"Ah, Fletcher and Collins are here already," he whispered in warning as he nodded in the direction of the bullpen.

She shrugged with a soft chuckle, briefly glancing down at herself. "It's not like I'm wearing baby dolls… I think I'll be okay. I look like a character from The Brady Bunch, not Lolita."

Steve's eyes snapped down again and he bobbed his head in agreement. "Yeah, you're right."

She frowned suddenly, looking peeved, then reached out to gently slap his upper arm. They started to laugh then stopped abruptly, both of them looking towards the cot. Mike didn't move. She exhaled pointedly, looked at Steve again with a smile, picked up the duffle bag and started for the door.

He watched her until she left the room, marvelling once more that, with everything she was going through, like her father she could always find a moment of humanity and humour in almost any situation. He looked at the cot; Mike was still sound asleep.

# # # # #

The pain in his chest woke him. His eyes squeezed shut and holding his breath, he raised his right hand under the blanket and slid it across his chest to apply pressure to the tensor bandages still supporting his broken ribs. The additional tension actually eased the discomfort and he stayed in that position for several long seconds before he exhaled softly and relaxed his hand.

Taking another deep breath, he opened his eyes and almost jumped. Steve, siting on the second cot, was staring at him, not even pretending to mask his worried frown.

"How bad is it?" the younger man asked.

Mike stared at him silently for a beat. "Where's Jeannie?" he asked quietly.

"She's out in the office. Norm and Dan brought breakfast. I told her I'd check on you. So, how bad is it?" he repeated.

"What time is it?" the older man asked, starting to pull the blanket off.

"Quit stalling and answer the question."

Mike froze, scowling, trying to outstare his partner then, with a pain-filled sigh, let his head drop back onto the pillow. "I can get home… I think…"

"You think?"

Steve's eyes hadn't left his face and Mike closed his own. He felt a hand on his arm and a concerned squeeze. He swallowed heavily. "I'm pretty sure I can make it home."

"Just 'pretty sure'…?"

Mike opened his eyes, stared at his young friend, and nodded. "I want to be there for Jeannie, at least until we get to San Francisco…. Then I promise I'll let you take me to the hospital… okay?" He put his hand over the one on his arm. "And I need your help to do that, Steve… please…?"

They locked eyes, one set pleading, the other almost petrified with fear.

"Please…?" Mike asked again.

Several heart-stopping beats later, Steve closed his eyes and sighed. "Okay…" he said softly, "if you promise me, when we get home, that you'll let me take you straight to the hospital?"

His face breaking into a soft and appreciative smile, Mike nodded slowly. "I promise…"

Steve squeezed his partner's arm again then took his hand away. He got to his feet, continuing to look down at the injured man laying on the cot. "What do you need me to do?"