He'd woken up around 5am, feeling like the equivalent of a human teddy bear with Jeanie's arms wrapped tightly around his chest. With his muscles protesting from the prolonged uncomfortable position on Mike's couch, sandwiched between the cushions and the next best thing he had to a little sister, Steve had taken his time to slowly escape the predicament in an effort to head home for an hour and freshen up.
Surprisingly, Mike never made it to bed.
Instead, the Lieutenant was sprawled out spread eagle on his rocking chair, his slight snoring the only noise in the peaceful confines of the DeHaro house.
Once his feet safely touched the ground again, Steve draped the comforter over Jeanie, wrote a quick thank you note to Mike in the dim stove light of the kitchen, and carefully tip-toed his way out of the house.
The brisk morning air quickly brought him back to his senses, as he glanced up and down the deserted road, an unusual sight for busy DeHaro Street, except for a the few precious hours after a holiday like Thanksgiving.
His commute back home would take him well out of his way to work, but he had to change, shave, shower and look decently presentable for whatever would await the two detectives in the office this week.
Slipping into the silver Porsche, he cringed at the ailing sound of the engine coming to life, a not-so-subtle reminder that he was due for a new starter. The streaks left behind from his windshield wipers as he tried to clear the fog off the windows quickly added on to that maintenance bill.
Hoping that some of his favorite breakfast places might be open on a day like today, he started his commute back up north, somewhat dreading the drive clear across the city.
He turned left on 16th with the intention to hit up I-80 and shave a few minutes off his travel, when something ahead caught his attention.
At first, he thought it was a dead cat, having gotten hit by a passing vehicle. But as he got closer to the intersection near Kansas, he recognized it as a crumpled-up leather jacket. With no other cars nearby, he slowed the Porsche down at the crosswalk, his cop senses on high alert as he glanced around for the source. Assuming that the jacket had carelessly been left on somebody's trunk and fallen off during the drive, he was about to get out of his car and toss it back onto the sidewalk, when he noticed something entirely different.
Next to the newsstand and garbage can off to his left, Steve saw the still figure of a man lying on his side. His first assumption had been that it was a homeless man sleeping off his thanksgiving buzz, but the large blood puddle forming around his head and pooling along the sidewalk and street gutters suggested otherwise.