A city block and a half later, Steve was still mad at Ronny Filmer and his loud voice, warning McPhearson of their presence and allowing him headway to elude capture.
The only detective who hadn't sat down, he'd given chase immediately, almost running over an old couple that entered just as McPhearson stormed out of the restaurant.
Hearing Mike's mumbled orders to Kammers in the background only, he'd barged out of the front door, taking a sharp left toward Guerrero, his eyes fixed on McPhearson who was showing startlingly good athletic skills as he skipped over a construction barrier around a manhole cover, then sped up even more on his downhill race toward god-knows where.
Steve decided to bypass the construction hurdles, rather than tackling them. It cost him a fraction of a moment, but spared him the embarrassment in case the maneuver would backfire.
By the item he circled the work area, McPhearson's head was barely sticking out beneath the roof of cars parked along 25th, widening the gap between them significantly.
Cursing under his breath, Steve sped up again, the long toe on his cowboy boot getting caught on a broken chunk of sidewalk and nearly making him trip, falling even farther behind.
As he crossed Guerrero, ignoring the strange glances from passing pedestrians, Steve kept his ears queued to the engine of the Galaxy, squealing tires if nothing else, but his frantic manhunt remained painfully understaffed.
The second city block came and went, making the young Inspector wonder if his partner had lost him in the maze of cars and heavy rush hour traffic. With his heart hammering and thighs slowly beginning to cramp, Steve slowed down his breathing, trying to regain a safe pace as he followed McPhearson, whose distance to him remained stubbornly unchanged.
By the time they approached Mission Street, he was soaked in sweat, his heart threatening to switch into VFib, his breaths reduced to frantic gasps for air, the only thing keeping him going being the stubborn unwillingness to have some martial arts instructor beat him at what he supposedly was best at.
Running.
Salvation finally came at the corner of 25th and Lilac, when the Galaxy's hood appeared out of nowhere, pulling onto the sidewalk right in front of McPhearson, causing the flight suspect to crash hard against the fender, before sliding onto the concrete below in a half-conscious stupor.
"Whoopsie.", Mike mumbled facetiously as he exited the tan sedan and cocked his head for Kammers to arrest their suspect, before approaching his partner as he came upon the scene.
"Say, is it me or are you slowing down in your old age, Buddyboy?"
Grimacing between breaths, Steve bent over, resting his palms on his knees, trying to come up with a wise guy answer but lacking the oxygen, much to Mike's amusement.
As he patted his heaving back amicably, the Lieutenant let out a hearty chuckle, heard only between the two of them.
"Getting outran by a guy ten years older, my oh my. Come on, let me help you back into the car before you collapse on me, you old man."
# # #
"Mister McPhearson, do you know why you are here?"
It was a rhetorical question at best, its purpose being to help Mike's sour mood simmer down enough for a constructive dialogue.
At least that's what he could hope for.
Leaning against the plaster wall to his right, Steve had his arms crossed over his chest, his features unreadable, as he stared intently at their latest suspect, his body language a mixture of guarded curiosity and mistrust. Perhaps even a little bit of ire for nearly getting outran by the martial arts instructor.
The seasoned Lieutenant didn't have much faith in the outcome of this interrogation, knowing that McPhearson wouldn't be the type to budge easily, much less break down and admit to the crime. No, he was a man quite used to leading a double life, and there was no doubt in Mike's mind that it would be difficult to pry the truth out of him. But then again, he wasn't the first one to have that misguided mindset.
On their way in, Kammers had excused herself for the rest of the day, citing a catch-up interview with her superior, something Mike vaguely remembered hearing about during a hallway conversation with Captain Rodgers. Although it wasn't fair to the Staff Sergeant, he felt a certain sense of peace upon running their case investigation as the well oiled- two-man team they were, without all that outside interference.
"Of course I know why I am here. But I didn't do it."
The snarky tone seemed quite unusual for a man who was preaching about peace of mind, balance and serenity on a weekly basis.
Cocking his head to the right, Mike shared a brief glance with his partner, affirming that he'd noticed the same thing.
"Then let me ask you this.", the Lieutenant continued unaffected, "Why did you run?"
His fake smile seemed to catch on when McPhearson returned it, then shook his head.
"Maybe I just didn't want to deal with you guys again. So, I decided to run. See if you'll leave me alone. That's what they do in the movies all the time…and get away with it."
Leaning back against the metal chair, with his hands clasped and resting on top of the table, the martial arts instructor displayed utter confidence despite the serious legal situation he was in. It was something that bothered Mike tremendously.
"Is that so? Well Sunny, I'd hate to disappoint you but those movies don't tell the truth. You see, running away from us doesn't look so good when we want to talk to you…being that you were seen with our murder victim and failed to tell us about that the other day. When it comes to a murder investigation, your kind of behavior makes you look rather…guilty."
His peculiar choice of words seemed to finally get McPhearson's attention and the man straightened out, pulled his hands off the table and hugged his chest nervously.
"Listen Stone, I said I didn't do it. Tell me the exact time and day she was killed and I can get you an airtight alibi. You can check it out. I have been super busy these last few weeks. Too busy to kill anybody."
Next to him, Steve raised an eyebrow in obvious skepticism, but decided to hold back for now.
"You bet we're going to check it out.", Mike fired back, and leaned forward onto the table, close enough to poke an angry finger at McPhearson's chest, "And I am going to ask you once again, why didn't you tell us about the thing you and Leanne Harris had going on over at JR's? What is it you were meeting about? Did you date her?"
Even before he could finish his questions, McPhearson shook his head vehemently, then glanced back and forth between both detectives.
"No, we weren't dating. Leanne wasn't my type…whatsoever. I didn't tell you the other night because it wasn't a good time to talk about it. And yes, let me tell you what really went on."