Johnny Doan smiled enigmatically. "Well, for one thing, you're not going to have to break your partner's heart, if that's what you mean…"

Mike sat back slightly, his wide, anticipatory stare turning into a surprised frown. "You mean she's clean?"

"As clean as 'The Man from Glad'," the Chinese p.i. chuckled, glancing up at the waitress as she approached their table. "I'll take a BLT and fries and a coffee," he ordered with a warm smile, then glanced across the table. "You?"

Mike, who was staring into nothing, shook his head slightly as he refocused. "Oh, ah… ah, just a coffee, please."

Nodding, the waitress moved away.

"Are you sure?" the homicide detective asked, leaning even further over the table.

Doan shot him a somewhat irritated glare. "What, you think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"No no no," Mike assured quickly, raising both hands defensively as he backed off. "I know how good you are." He paused and exhaled loudly. "But, I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that."

The private eye chuckled. "I know you weren't. But I was thorough, Mike, and believe me, she was not involved, if this accident was the set-up you think it is. If she was a dupe, then I'm pretty sure she had no idea. But what I believe happened is… this mysterious lady of yours…"

Mike slowly reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the composite as Doan continued.

"… I think she just waited till you and Steve got to the corner then tossed the ball for the dog to chase, and your partner's girlfriend - although I know she wasn't at the time…" he laughed, idly playing with the cutlery wrapped in a paper napkin on the table in front of him, "was the poor sap whose car the dog ran in front of." He shrugged with an amused smirk.

Mike sat back with a heavy sigh, his gaze drifting to the tabletop. "Son of a bitch," he muttered quietly. "You know, I was hoping that was true… for a lot of reasons. Not the least of which is, I really like her. But also because she really seems to be making Steve happy, and he needs that right now. This past couple of years have not been… well, let's just say he's been going through a rough patch with the fairer sex." He picked up the folded composite and opened it. "This is what the sketch artist come up with."

Doan looked at it then up at the cop. "Yeah, that looks what I thought she'd look like. Any leads?

The detective shook his head. "Well, I did find out she's definitely not a registered p.i. So if I ever track her down I can arrest her for that, but as for anybody recognizing her…?" He shrugged. "None of the restaurant or shop owners recognized her, which makes that story of her coming to their aid with regards to Chin Han bogus, to say the least."

He paused as the waitress approached the table with their coffees. When she left, Doan asked, "So she's a complete fraud?"

"From what I can tell," Mike snorted as he poured a bit of cream into his coffee and stirred.

"So… what? This was all a set-up to try and take you guys out?"

The cop shrugged. "That's the way it's looking but right now I have very little to go on except for this." He tapped the composite. "I've set up a meeting with Chin Han and his lawyer for the day after tomorrow. I want to see if I can get him to tell me where he got the gun he shot the shop owner with on Christmas Day."

"You think he got it from her?" Doan asked, looking pointedly at the composite as he picked up his cup.

"Yes, I do," Mike nodded before taking a sip of his own coffee.

Doan studied the older man for a long beat, then he asked simply, "So… are you going to tell him?"

"Tell who?" Mike put the cup down.

"Steve. Are you going to tell him about his girlfriend?"

Pursing his lips, Mike stared at the cup, idly running his index finger around the top of the rim. He inhaled slowly and deeply then let it out in a soft sigh, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know," he said quietly, "I really don't know…"

# # # # #

"My my my, don't we look like the Cheshire Cat this morning," Mike chuckled as Steve stepped to the door of his office to hang his raincoat on the rack.

Trying to suppress his grin and studiously avoiding eye contact, the younger man planted his tongue in his cheek as he pointedly cleared his throat and walked back to his desk.

His face alight, Mike got up, picking up his coffee cup and following his partner to the latter's desk, dropping onto the corner even before Steve had sunk into the swivel chair, still not meeting the friendly leer. "You had a, ah… a relaxing night, I take it? Got a lot of sleep?"

Moving some of the papers around on his desk and trying not to smile, Steve cleared his throat again. "Is there something I can do for you, Lieutenant?"

"No no, I'm good," Mike said quickly with a shake of his head, continuing to grin. "Just checking on the welfare of my squad… you know…"

"Unh-hunh…"

The older man took a sip of his coffee. After a couple of long beats, Steve finally looked up at him. "You sure there's nothing I can do for you?"

"No no," Mike shook his head again, his eyes dancing, "like I said, just checking up -"

"'On the welfare of your squad' Yeah, you said that already."

"Right, yeah, I did." Nodding as if to himself, Mike got up from the corner of the desk. "Well, ah, I'll, ah… I'll just leave you to your work…" He started towards his office.

"Yeah, you do that, Mrs. Kravitz," Steve muttered under his breath and Mike spun back.

"What was that?" His tone was all innocence.

"Nothing, nothing…"

"Oh, I thought you said something." Mike's face split into a wide grin. "Well, just go about your business," he said lightly as he continued on to his office.

Trying to suppress an affectionate chuckle, Steve mumbled softly, "I'm trying to…"

# # # # #

Collier pulled the tan sedan to the curb on Amber Drive just outside the Police Academy building. They had an appointment to meet up with one of the instructors, a 26-year-veteran who had taught both Steve and Collier when they had joined the force. Because of the sensitivity of their investigation, it had been agreed that they would talk with the captain off site, and a nearby diner was selected as the meeting place.

The captain was already sitting in a four-seat booth when they stepped through the door, a small bell announcing their arrival. After the pleasantries were exchanged and the new arrivals had settled in and ordered lunch, Steve took the composite out and laid it on the table. By the time they had relayed all the information they had to the academy instructor, their sandwiches and coffee had arrived and they had started to eat.

Frowning, the gray-haired older man with the military buzzcut picked up the drawing and studied it as he chewed on his club sandwich. He glanced up at the two Homicide inspectors sitting opposite him. "This looks like a lotta guys, you know that right?"

Steve, swallowing hastily, nodded at the composite. "Yeah, we know, and, well, a needle in a haystack and all that, but, hey, we gotta start somewhere."

Captain Rennick chuckled. "That's what I always liked about you, Keller, your optimism." His eyes flicked to other man. "So what about you, Collier? I hear this is your first Homicide case. How are you liking it?"

Collier smiled as he picked up his coffee cup. "Well, it's certainly different from Missing Persons, that's for sure."

"Different in a good way or a bad way?" Rennick's eyes flicked to Steve for a split second.

Collier shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. I still haven't seen a homicide victim in situ, so to speak so…? I'll guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

Rennick nodded. "That sounds about right…" He smiled then turned his attention back to the drawing. "Listen, ah, can I have this?"

Steve nodded.

"Good. Ah, I'll show it around to the other guys and see if it rings any bells… but I can't guarantee anything."

"We know," Steve said, taking a sip of his coffee. "We're gonna get in touch with the fire department too and see if maybe he's a fireman. Then we'll go to the services. But we wanted to start here before we had to deal with the military brass and all that red tape."

"Makes a lot of sense." Rennick folded the drawing up and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. "I'll get back to you by tomorrow morning at the latest. And let's hope I can find something out for you."

Steve lifted his cup in a salute. "That's all we can ask, Captain."

# # # # #

He's gotten into the habit of looking up and down the street before he inserted the key into the lock and opened his front door. But there were never many pedestrians on the steep street at the best of times, and strangers in the neighbourhood always stood out.

It was a chilly, damp and rainy night, and the street was quiet. He let himself into the dark house and closed and locked the door after him. He turned on the light on the end table then dropped heavily onto the couch.

He had been debating with himself all day about what to do with the information he had received from Johnny Doan. Because of the outcome of the p.i.'s investigation, he no longer suspected Linda of being a willing participant in the accident that almost ended both he and his partner's careers, not to mention their lives.

And as he no longer had to distance himself from Steve, he could finally tell the younger man about the composite of the woman with the dog.

With a heavy sigh, he got up and wandered into the kitchen, snapping on the ceiling light. As he crossed to the fridge, a slight smile crossed his lips. When The Castro murder was finally solved, hopefully in a day or so, then he and Steve would be partners once more.

# # # # #

Steve swung the tan LTD to the curb on Union and glanced up through the rain-covered windshield at his darkened apartment. He froze; he was expecting to see the light on. Linda had called him that afternoon and told him she was leaving work early and was going to head over to his apartment and make them dinner, jokingly eliciting a promise from him that he would be home at a decent hour. They were scheduled to return to Belmondo's but had decided to wait for the next day, when the weather was hopefully better and more people would be out and about.

He had lived up to his end of the bargain, so why hadn't she, he wondered.

Frowning, he stepped into the dark apartment and turned on a light, crossing immediately to the answering machine. It was flashing '1' and he relaxed slightly as he pressed the 'Play' button. The tape rewound for a couple of seconds then clicked to start.

"Steve…!" It was Linda but, instead of sounding apologetic, she sounded terrified. "Steve… help me! You've got to come…! You've got to come…to Hunter's Point! On Spear, an old garage…! Steve, you've got to come alone… you've got to come alone or they'll kill me…. And you can't tell anybody… You can't tell anybody or they'll kill me… Please, Steve… Steve, I'm scared… I'm so scared…!"