They sat in the parking lot of JC's Bar and Grill for the better part of two hours, quietly observing. As the afternoon went by and the sun disappeared behind the buildings, more and more people began to pour into the light green building.
With the Galaxy parked on the far side of the lot and the DMV picture in hand, they had a good view at everyone entering the bar.
Unfortunately, so far, nobody matched the description.
"You still think he'll show tonight?" Steve asked from the driver's seat and adjusted his binoculars to watch a small group of young men gather outside for a smoke.
"Oh, he will show. He wants to make money, right?"
Mike watched a couple of women approach from the nearby sidewalk. As they joined the group of smokers outside, both fell into each other's arms, followed by a long, passionate kiss.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Steve drop the binoculars and nervously fidget with his tie. Looking over, the Lieutenant tried himself in a reassuring smile.
"Are you going to be ok?"
Steve's green eyes glazed over for a second, before the young Inspector swallowed hard and nodded.
"Yes. Yes, of course. I was just…I was just thinking about what Glenn's sister said.", the trembling in his voice was barely audible, but Mike picked up on it, "That she automatically assumed he had committed suicide."
Nodding slowly, Mike glanced back out of the windshield.
"Well, you have to admit, it's not that far-fetched to assume so. Something like that could be the cause of many family feuds. And resentment. And rejection. Without a doubt, there are a lot more Glenn Malcolm's out there in a similar situation."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
Silence once again filled the tan sedan. As the sun began to set, the parking lot turned significantly darker. Without as much as a streetlamp nearby, the only light sources available were old lengths of Christmas lights strung carelessly around the bar entrance.
Tossing the binoculars into the back seat, Steve reached for the ignition, when Mike grabbed his hand.
"Where do you think you're going?", he asked casually, before letting go of his partner.
"I was going to pull the car closer. I can't see who's going in and out anymore." Steve justified, but froze in his position.
"I have a better idea. Let's go inside and take a look round. I don't know about you but my back is getting tired from sitting in this car."
He could see Steve's eyes widen even in the dim light coming in through the windshield.
"Are you serious? Mike, we're going to stick out like sore thumbs in there."
"And how would that be?", the Lieutenant asked keenly, "I think it's dress up night. I've seen a few guys dressed as patrolmen. And hey, did you see the construction workers and the lawyers? We'll fit right in. They'll never figure us as real cops."
When Steve continued to stare at him wide-eyed, Mike reached over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"It'll be alright. I am sure you've visited a few of those…establishments during your time in Vice."
"We've busted plenty of prostitution rings and drug runners, but gay clubs, not all that often. My experiences with them were rather…limited."
Noting the unease in his partner's voice, Mike turned around to face him, hoping his calmness would rub off on the young Inspector. After letting the response sit out there for several moments, he finally cleared his throat and knitted his brows in genuine concern.
"What has got you so wound up about all this? I haven't seen you like this in a long time."
Taking one last shaky breath, Steve clenched his jaws before looking out of the windshield, avoiding his gaze.
"I…I don't know, Mike. I guess I just-"
His confession was interrupted when loud guitar music started up from inside JC's. With a live band, the bar featured a back patio with adjacent seating and an array of speakers that carried the music far beyond the city block.
Both detectives locked eyes for a second, before Mike spoke up.
"I guess it's time to go inside and join the party."