A couple chapters today as more chaos unfolds around the world. Let's hope that in end morality will win, but damn it's going to be a battle.

After some much needed rest and with both of their senses revived for another day of investigative bird-dogging; Mike was glad to finally see the sun peeking through the seemingly never-ending wall of clouds.

Taking note of the ornate palisades along the east end of Dolores, lining the busy boulevard winding through the well-kept lawns of the nearby park, Mike let his eyes drift across the countless assortment of small vendor booths full of young and upcoming artists.

Woefully aware how much they were standing out from the crowd of leisurely dressed 20-somethings, Mike led the way toward an area that had the potential for some answers on their murder case, keeping a close eye on the many people in their immediate vicinity, his senses queued to any sort of nervous behavior that could indicate guilt- or knowing anything that had to do with Sarah Roberts' untimely death.

Steve flanked him to the left, the young Inspector's eyes taking in the busy scene ahead, as if he practically sensed a case break in the making.

"What do you think, Buddyboy?", Mike muttered, as he put his hands behind his back on their somewhat relaxing stroll to find just the right artists to question.

Next to him, Steve slowed down a bit, a curios expression on his face, as his eyes remained trained on one of the far away tents, well past the more tourist-oriented and crowded areas ahead.

"My old friend Hector is back there, I say we should ask him, see if he's come across this…this Luigi."

"That Puerto-Rican guy with the funny mustache back there? Selling necklaces?"

"Well, he's selling a whole lot more than that, if you ask the right questions…", Steve said cryptically, a wily smile playing on his lips as they took a shortcut toward the other man's position.

"Is he a friend of yours, or a Vice friend of yours?"

"Vice.", casually reaching for some sunflower seeds in his pant pocket, Steve pointed back toward the Bay, "He used to be a big runner for Johnnie LuCherro, you remember that guy, right?"

"Yeah, how could I forget that rap sheet?"

Trying hard to hide the frown on his face when his experienced mind made the connection to the filthy drug lord from the Embarcadero area, Mike grunted.

"Well, Hector wears a jacket too. A lighter one though. He did some time in Q, got back out and split from LuCherro. Nobody knows how, but he lived to tell the tale. We kept a close eye on him for a while but he kept his nose clean beside some occasional grass here and there. Nothing worth busting him over. Word had it, he'd gotten into some new fad later that year, but that all went down right as I switched to homicide, so I am not entirely up to date on him. I just know that he knows everybody here. Otherwise, he wouldn't be comfortable showing face at all."