Despite the improved weather conditions, their drive back had been slow. Southbound traffic was dense and sluggish, causing more and more backups the closer they came to the Golden Gate Bridge.
It had put a damper in Mike's mood, knowing that their day was waning, and with it any possibility to get a hold of the various police departments to their north, hoping to see if there was any sort of pattern to these limbs showing up, or if some of them even matched the two they'd found.
So far, the only common denominators seemed to be the surgical precision with which the limbs had been amputated, no signs of struggle and the watery grave chosen by their killer or his accomplice.
Mike feared that the geographical challenges stemming from body parts washing ashore across the United States would make any homicide investigation a coordination nightmare, and the gathering of potentially valuable evidence ten times as hard as it normally was.
With a weary sigh, he glanced straight ahead, grateful to see that they'd finally made it onto the bridge, just a few precious miles separating them from their Bryant Street Office. If luck was in their favor, he'd be able to start the research on these limbs within the hour.
"Looks like there's wreck ahead…", Steve said suddenly, taking the wind out of Mike's sails, as he slowed the Galaxie down, careful to leave plenty of distance between them and the cars in front of them.
"Oh for crying out loud…"
Unable to stifle the complaint, Mike stretched his neck to peek along the shoulder of the road where he noticed a patrol car blocking the right-hand lane to protect two vehicles that had been involved in a fender bender.
The young officer was struggling between channeling the traffic that had come to a near complete stop and tending the drivers of the crash vehicles, making him run back and forth between the front and side of his cruiser.
"I'm not seeing any reinforcements nearby…you want to stop and help him out? He looks…overwhelmed…"
Mike's comment caused Steve to glance over and raise his eyebrows.
"Us?"
"What's the matter, Smiley? You were running patrols not too long ago. Don't you miss that peaked cap and the freshly pressed uniforms one bit?"
Smiling at the remark, the young Inspector shook his head, then reached forward to turn on the siren, Mike placing the light onto the roof almost simultaneously.
In skilled precision, Steve maneuvered the large Galaxie toward the middle of both lanes, blocking all traffic behind them for a moment in order to keep the crash scene safe during their approach.
Then, he slowly pulled in behind the squad car, wheels cocked toward the middle, the hood sticking out just enough to carefully channel all approaching cars into the left-hand lane.
With a broad grin, he glanced over at the Lieutenant watching him sort the files on the dash before reaching for the door handle.
"All those years of patrolling the streets are still a strong part of you, aren't they?"
Returning the smile, Mike nodded and drew in a deep breath before answering.
"I always felt that it's important to know where you came from, where you…where you started out at. Nobody is too good or too experienced or too high up in the food chain to keep the roads safe. We are all in this together, and we're all responsible to keep this city safe."
A mixture of admiration and gratitude filled Steve's features as he acknowledged the remark, undoubtedly travelling back to his own short time on the road.
"I sure wish there were more of you out there, Michael…", he finally said with a hint of sadness in his voice, "Just think how great this city would be."