Lee Lessing stared at the shattered, burnt remains of what was once Steve's LTD, wrapped around the base of a tree. He shook his head as his hand lightly touched a piece of the still warm, charred metal, he couldn't believe that Steve was really gone. What had started off as an easy Sunday, wrapping up cases while Mike was away, had now ended in tragedy.

He swallowed hard as he remembered his light teasing of Steve earlier in the day, claiming his friend's decision to go to re-interview a witness in preparation of an upcoming court case was just an excuse for him sneak off to see the pretty young waitress who had been flirting with him when they had gone to the café to buy lunch. He had laughed when Steve had stammered and blushed, admitting that he had thought about dropping back at the café on his way back to the bullpen, just for a cup of coffee and maybe, just maybe, to get the waitress's number.

He stared at the wreckage, still unable to believe that this was really happening, and he found himself praying that Steve had not been conscious when the car had burst into flames.

"Steve would have died instantly." Bill tried to reassure his young colleague softly, lightly placing his hand on Lee's back, answering Lee's unvoiced fear before he asked, "Does Mike know yet?"

Lee swallowed hard and shook his head. "Rudy's trying to track him down to tell him about the…the accident but he has gone away for a few days to unwind and do a little bit of fishing with an old air force buddy. Only Steve knew where he was going and he wasn't telling anyone, not even Rudy, he wanted Mike to have a couple of days to relax and not think about the job." Forcing himself to turn away from the LTD, he looked back up the trail of broken and crushed undergrowth to the muddy road above them before he looked back at Bill and asked, "Do you think this was really an accident?"

Bill, startled by Lee's question because of the overwhelming evidence of the skid marks on the slick, wet road above that indicated that Steve had lost control of his car as he rounded the bend in the road and that no other cars had been involved, stared at his upset friend and frowned. "Don't you?"

Looking back at the wreckage in which Steve had lost his life only an hour before, Lee shrugged.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Carrying the small thermos containing hot coffee in one hand and a bag in which he had packed several of his special man size club sandwiches he had just made in his other, Eric Leeds tramped down the rugged and slightly overgrown trail that led from the small cabin down to the banks of the river as he called out to his fishing companion. "Brr, it's cold enough to freeze a squirrel's nuts, I hope those fish you've been telling me about are biting."

He froze, dropping both the sandwiches and the thermos, shocked, when he reached the spot where he had left his friend fishing only a few minutes before. The chair in which his friend had been sitting was toppled over, the fishing rod was laying half in and out of the water, and it was evident that the edge of the bank had broken away into the water. He felt his heart rise into his throat as he saw the familiar, well-battered fishing hat, Mike had been wearing, bobbing up and down on the gentle waves as the deceptively strong current carried it out of sight around the bend of the river. "Ohh God, Mike!" he gasped in horror as he began to run along the riverbank, keeping his eyes on the water, desperately searching for some sign, any sign, of his missing friend. "Mike? Where are you, Mike?" he yelled, "Mike, answer me!"