"I think I want to talk to McPhearson again. Maybe at the training session tonight."
"Well, good morning to you as well, sunshine.", Mike countered amicably, as he hung the overcoat and fedora onto the clothes rack in his office, eyebrows raised at the purple tie dangling carelessly around his partner's shoulders, "And just when did you get in?"
Reaching for his coffee cup and treating himself to a passionate gulp, Steve glanced over at his partner sheepishly, hesitating for a brief moment before answering.
"I never went home."
The comment raised Mike's eyebrows; that unwelcome feeling of worry returning to his stomach as his mind began to race, coming up with various reasons why the young Inspector would have put in an all-nighter after both detectives had decided that no more could be achieved the evening prior.
"Never went home? Did I miss anything? You know you're supposed to call me if there's a case break."
Assuaging his concern with a warm smile, Steve shook his head, one hand seemingly holding onto his coffee cup for dear life, the other one nervously running through his sandy hair.
"I didn't call you because there was no case break. I just…I don't know…I needed some more time to think on this case."
"Boy oh boy, that guy outrunning you really got your gears grinding, didn't he?"
The facetious comment was nothing but a Trojan horse cleverly disguised in flippancy, hoping that Steve would be comfortable spilling the beans without feeling like his actions were put under a microscope of departmental scrutiny and overzealous mother-henning.
The plan seemed to work when the young Inspector chuckled and got up to pour his partner a cup of coffee, adding more than the usual amount of cream and sugar, and eventually joined him in the office.
"I know it might seem hard for you to believe, but my ego wasn't hurt by that. As a matter of fact, me staying here all night had little to do with that. There was just something that kept circling my mind, and I guess…for as tongue-in-cheek as the comment was, I still want to know why McPhearson said that. And I want to ask him about it during his class."
Meeting his partner's curious green eyes, Mike fell quiet for a moment, trying to put himself into his friend's mind.
"You didn't like it when he said that he couldn't talk about certain aspects of his relationship with Leanne over at the dojo."
Nodding fervidly, Steve took a step to the side, glancing across the bullpen as if to gather his thoughts, one hand rubbing the back of his neck before he turned around to face the Lieutenant again.
"I just can't help but wonder if he does know who the real killer is. And he didn't want to give it away in front of him…her, I mean."
"Mhm hm. Which brings us back to these seven women. It's possible that one of them noticed McPhearson giving Leanne special attention and didn't like that too much. Maybe went out to talk to her and things went…awry."
Taking a cherished sip of coffee, Mike cocked his head at Sekulovich who'd stared at them from across the bullpen, then focused back on his partner.
"I don't think he's the type to give it away in front of the ladies, Steve. Whoever is involved has even him scared. He didn't budge in the interrogation room; he won't budge on his own home turf, no way. Besides, he's already lawyered up. If we reel him in a second time without a warrant, Gerry is going to get an earful. Nah, I think our best bet is to find a way to talk to the ladies."
Raising a skeptical glance his way, Steve grunted, then shook his head.
"If you think I am going to enter the ring with those seven amazons again, you are dead wrong, Lieutenant."
Unable to hold back a hearty chuckle, Mike shook his head.
"No, not this time around. But I do have an idea."
# # #
"Let's go over these names again real quick…"
Mike's soothing voice and the organized approach with which he started up another round of fact checking helped calm Steve's nerves on that early morning, after the preceding night had done nothing but feed his anxiety and leave him with more questions than he started out with.
The long conversation with Simone was still weighing heavily on his heart, as did the need to keep what had been said from his best friend.
It went against everything he believed in, especially the open line of communication that Mike had established between them early on. But he couldn't justify throwing the Staff Sergeant under the bus after she had bared her heart to him.
And no matter how much he trusted Mike with everything, including his own life, some things just needed to be kept private.
"Maria Gonzales. Thirty-eight years old. Tiffany Henderson. Twenty-nine.", Steve began, rattling off information the sleepless night had ingrained into his brain, "Barbara Watson, forty-eight. Allison Knudson- Fifty-two. Emily Smithfield- nineteen. Wanda Rivera- forty-six. Betsy Harlow- Fifty-three."
Mike had listened intently, one hand in front of his mouth, intelligent blue eyes glancing over at the pictures on his wall, keeping his body busy while his mind worked overtime.
"I could be wrong but the nineteen year old didn't hit me like the murder type. Although she sure enjoyed choking you.", the Lieutenant then said and shook his head, "The tall blonde…which one is that again? Betsy Harlow?"
"Yep. Works as an executive accountant for a local investment firm."
"She worried me. The look in her eyes when she went after you. It was almost as though…she was enjoying herself…too much. Like she was out for blood."
With a cheeky grin, Steve raised his index finger.
"Now why wouldn't she enjoy herself? I gave them all a run for their money. She could have enjoyed…the challenge."
Countering his argument with a facetious headshake, Mike chuckled.
"Challenge, he says. You were no challenge to these women. You were a toy. Like the mouse that gets dragged in by the cat. And you were about to get eaten alive if McPhearson hadn't stopped the show."
"Aw, Lieutenant. Don't you think that's a little harsh? Some might call what I did there going above and beyond the line of duty."
"Yeah and some might call it having too much fun. And not standing a chance while you're getting body-slammed across the mats."
Their light-hearted banter raised his weary sprits that morning and Steve leaned back to stretch the sore muscles in his neck and chest from leaning forward for way too long. Midway through his passionate maneuvers, he noticed Mike's eyes wander over to the glass-walled vestibule, then turn dark and worried.
"Now what does he want here?"
With the grace of a cat walking a narrow fence line, the Lieutenant rose from his desk at once, brushed past his partner and disappeared out of the door before Steve even had a chance to turn around.