"I don't know what this world is coming to…men being kidnapped and possibly raped. It all started with that whole women's lib movement….", Mike grunted cantankerously as they made their way down VanNess toward Bay Street, hoping to have a brief conversation with the girlfriend of one of the murder victims.
Absent-mindedly watching the wipers of the Galaxy fight the persistent rain that made the chilly spring temps outside even more unbearable, the Lieutenant shook his head and reached for a piece of chewing gum in his coat pocket.
"For what it's worth, I called Bernie and told him about Lenny's theory and he, well, he said he didn't see any signs of…you know…"
"Yeah, I know. I know…"
Mike's tone of voice had become curt, this case bringing up bad memories of the things he'd seen and heard of during the war. Stories of vile, primal human behavior he'd hoped wouldn't be tolerated in today's civilized society.
So much for that.
"Did you talk to R&I about the prescriptions?"
Glancing over at Steve, whose tired green eyes were focused on the busy road ahead, Mike couldn't help but sense a distinctive distance the young man had created between the two of them over the past few weeks. At first, he'd chalked it up as exhaustion from another hair-raising murder case involving a child, but lately, the way he nonchalantly tiptoed around questions during seemingly casual conversation and his increasingly elusive behavior and declining offers for dinner had Mike worried.
Worried that whatever troubled his best friend was a far bigger issue than he should be handling alone.
"Yeah, they said they should have a list for me later on this afternoon. I also back-tracked the routes our victims would have taken to get from their homes and apartments to their destination and eventual kidnapping spot. There's a bank near one of them, so I called Gerry to see if I can get a warrant for their security camera, see if we can get our She-Man on video."
"She-Man…", chuckling and shaking his head, Mike glanced back out of the window in time to see an advertisement for "Bogo's Bar", a bar where one of their victims was last seen.
Reaching over to tap his partner's arm, he pointed at an open parking spot ahead.
"Pull over here. I want to talk to Reggie Rosco, see if he's seen or heard anything around here. He should be there right now."
Steve frowned and pulled the large Galaxy smoothly into the small spot, before shifting it into park.
"Reggie Rosco, as in the small-time bookie? Why would he know anything about this?"
Mike smiled for a fleeting second, enjoying a teaching moment he was about to pull his partner into regarding a seemingly insignificant note in their victim's file.
But not insignificant enough for him to overlook.
Over four years of mentoring and close partnership with the brilliant young man had made these moments almost extinct. As they both learned to work together seamlessly, barely needing any words to convey what the other man was thinking, each case had helped to smooth the edges of their vast differences.
The rough diamond from Vice had become a well-established and respected Homicide Inspector with a sophisticated sense of justice and street smarts. In a few short months, he'd managed to erase any doubts his age had created amongst the other Inspectors, aided by his unsurpassed background in psychology, his empathy, bloodhound intuition and his unyielding faith in doing the right thing. And with a little bit of gentle guidance and nurturing from Mike's side, Steve had quickly become one of them.
And a partner he couldn't be more proud of.
"Remember the file on Sam Browling? Victim number three?"
He could see the gears in Steve's mind beginning to turn as the young Inspector shifted toward him, his left arm casually draped over the steering wheel.
"Yeah. His girlfriend said that he used to go to Bogo's a couple times a week. Hang out with some friends. Why?"
"Well, let's just say I may have called the Bar owner myself before we left. Being that he would have been a regular, I asked what Sam ordered up and did while he was there."
Mike saw the realization in Steve's eyes before he even had to say anything.
"Right! He didn't go there to drink. He went there to gamble. Probably every Wednesday, Friday or Saturday night when the horses run…"
"Mhm…"
A broad smile appeared on his partner's lips and Steve shook his head, before pointing a finger at the Lieutenant
"You are something else, you know that?"
Mike returned the grin, feeling some of the weight of the worry in his heart diminish at their lighthearted interaction.
And yet, that bright smile never wiped the sadness from his partner's green eyes.