Chapter 11

Steve came upstairs just as Mark came down from his room. The sight of his father looking like himself again in casual pants and a polo shirt, his hair once again clean and fluffy, did much to lighten his mood. The still hollow cheeks in a thinner face were the only visual reminder of the forlorn figure he had found at the Exeter Institute. Mark looked like he felt better, too; he seemed more relaxed, and his eyes were brighter.

Steve managed to fix lunch for himself and his father despite the meager supplies in the kitchen. He hadn't spent any significant amount of time at the house since Mark had disappeared; he certainly hadn't bothered with any grocery shopping. Mark seemed quite satisfied with the canned soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, maintaining that anything was better than the hospital food. Steve promised that for dinner they'd have the ribs he'd mentioned last night. That brought the conversation around to BBQ Bob's, and Steve found himself telling his father all about the restaurant and how he and Jesse were co-owners with Mark. That carried them through lunch, after which they adjourned to the study.

Walking around his study, Mark found himself checking out the various photographs scattered around the room. He picked up one of himself, Steve, Amanda, and Jesse, all in formal attire. Steve looked over his shoulder to see which picture he was holding.

"That was taken a couple of years ago at the Joker's Club annual roast when you were named their 'Man of the Year'," he said, smiling.

"Really?" Surprised, Mark took a closer look at the picture.

"One of the more memorable awards dinners I've ever attended," Steve commented, with a reminiscent grin. He saw his father looking at him inquiringly, and elaborated. "One comedian was stabbed during the presentation and another was killed later, and we spent the rest of the night figuring out who did it and why."

"I take it we succeeded?" Mark asked with interest.

Steve grinned at him again. "Well, actually, you did," he replied. He saw the surprise in Mark's face and added, "Like I said – you're good at this. You've got a knack for noticing things and recognizing the significance of details that most people either miss completely or dismiss as unimportant." He paused for a moment, his grin returning. "Although I admit you had me worried for a few minutes that time – you did such a good job of sounding like you were rambling off on tangents, you even had me fooled!" he teased.

Mark wandered around checking out various pictures and knickknacks around the room. Almost of all of them seemed to have a story associated with them – friends they had good times with, momentos of successfully solved cases. Steve was glad enough to talk to his father about the various pictures and objects he picked up. He hoped that maybe something would spark a memory for him. Fortunately, he reflected, most of the things his father kept out on display had good stories associated with them. After a while, though, he noticed that Mark seemed tired.

"I tell you what, Dad," he suggested. "Why don't you lie down and get some rest for a while, and later on we can go through some of your photo albums or scrap books or whatever you'd like." He thought for a moment that Mark would protest, but he seemed to reconsider, gazing speculatively at his son, and then agreeing. Steve was willing to bet that his father was figuring that, by agreeing to rest for a while, he could free Steve up to do the same. He hid a grin; it was a move very typical of his dad, although Mark wasn't usually so transparent about it. Steve had no intentions of sleeping, but there were a few things he wanted to check out that he'd rather not do within his father's hearing.

Having settled his father in the lounge chair on the deck with a light blanket over him, Steve was left to his own devices for a while. He considered running into the station to see how Cheryl was making out, but didn't really want to leave Mark alone. He hated the thought of his dad wandering around alone in the still-unfamiliar house, unsure what to do with himself, perhaps giving way to the depression he was obviously trying to stave off. And if truth be told, he was feeling the need himself to stay within sight and touch of the father he had begun to think he'd never see again. So he settled for going downstairs to call Cheryl and have her give him a rundown of the situation.

It turned out that they apparently had gathered enough evidence to indict Sanders for the murder of Janice Randolph. The brake line on her car had been frayed, and they had found a pair of shears, bearing traces of what looked like brake fluid, in Sanders' desk. That should be enough to ensure that he went to jail for a very long time, even without what he had done to Mark.

As he contemplated what to do next, Amanda called to see how Mark was doing. She and Jesse were hoping to come over later if Steve felt Mark was up to it. They decided that it would be a good idea; the more Mark was around his family and friends, the greater the chances that something would trigger his memory. Steve suggested they come out after work and asked Amanda to pick up the dinner at BBQ Bob's on the way.

Having done pretty much all he could do from home, Steve went back upstairs to check on his father. Finding him asleep on the lounge chair, he decided that he could probably take some time for at least a short run. He figured some physical exercise – something he'd been pretty short on for the last week – would be a good stress reliever. So he went back downstairs to change into shorts and a T-shirt, left a note for his father taped to the french doors leading back into the house, just in case Mark woke up before he returned, and set off down the beach.