"So how did you meet this Riley guy?"
Taking a large bite out of his delicious ham and cheese sandwich that did so much more than just soothe his nervous stomach that afternoon, Steve watched Mike's mannerism with great curiosity, highly surprised that the seasoned Lieutenant with a distinct set of old fashioned values would engage into a friendship with a flamboyant man such a Riley Harris.
From what he could remember, Harris was on the front lines of the equality movement for homosexual couples, protesting for the right to get married, receive tax breaks and adopt children. And despite the countless times his protests failed in the past, his movement seemed to gain strong momentum every consecutive year.
Across from him, Mike was dipping a French fry into his squirt of ketchup, his intelligent blue eyes scanning the checkered tablecloth intently, his mind somewhere else, trying to come up with the right words.
"We've met in the crosshairs several years ago, long before I met you. I had him for suspicion of armed robbery of a gun store down the road and it turned out that it was his brother who'd done it. Riley did everything in his power to make things right, even though he hadn't committed the crime. Came up to headquarters a few times trying to see what he can do to help out his community. Somebody like that…that thinking is rare. It stuck with me, you know? So, we became friends."
As he washed his bite down with a big gulp of water, Steve stole a glance back over at Mike, practically sensing that there was more to that story, greater detail he would have to pry out one seemingly casual question at a time.
"You do know what he does on the side these days, right?"
"The protest marches and all that? Yeah I know. I've seen him on the front cover of the Telegraph just a few months back. Now look who's talking about protest marches, Smiley…"
Steve shook his head with a cheeky grin, part of him appreciating the roadblock Mike had so cunningly crafted when it came to his subtle cracks at the truth. Deciding to leave sleeping dogs lie for the time being, he returned his attention to the rest of his sandwich, devouring it in record time, as he took in the atmosphere of the seemingly ordinary restaurant and bar.
Wild Riley's was even smaller than Hank and Barry's, the dance floor half the size, the menus cut down to the bare basics. The interior was relatively nondescript, a few cheap paintings filled empty space between the bar and the door to the kitchen, the handful of booths were well-used and in dire need of re-cushioning.
As far as his taste was concerned, the place reminded Steve of a hand-me-down bar severely neglected by those who were supposed to carry on the tradition.
Which tradition that was exactly, he couldn't be sure of yet.
"There's my favorite Lieutenant!", came the high-pitched greeting from behind, loud enough that it startled both detectives.
Mike's features brightened and he tried to get up from the booth, only to be stopped by the bar owner; his wrists adorned with worn out rainbow trinkets, hands nondescript except for the overbearing glitter nail polish.
"I was hoping you'd stop by! And you brought a new friend!"
The skintight jeans and western shirt did little to hide the sizeable belly sticking out beneath a red, white and blue leather vest. That was with the exception of the pink cowboy hat serving as a distraction to the excessively bright outfit.
Stuck in a trance from the color overload, it took Steve a second to realize that the man was stretching out a hand to shake his, the long fingernails poking his palm and wrist as he returned the gesture.
Going through the motions of introducing himself and thanking the man for the meal he had comp'ed for the two detectives; Steve was somewhat glad to see that Mike had a hard time with the attire as well.
Between his best friend's highly conservative upbringing, his devoted catholic belief and his time in the Pacific, it was understandable that the Lieutenant struggled when it came to dealing with some of the cultural changes arising in the upcoming generation, including the reassignment of household roles, women's empowerment movement and sexual liberty.
It was obvious that the current case had the potential to severely challenge Mike, pull him out of an already stretched comfort zone. And yet, it seemed that the wisdom and professionalism from nearly thirty years on the job allowed him to deal with a situation he was undoubtedly struggling with as effortlessly as ever.
If the eccentric outfits, high pitched voices, or the sight of men kissing and hugging each other truly did bother him, he did an excellent job not showing it.
The picture of unwavering professionalism, as always.
"Can I buy you two boys a drink, or are you on the clock?"
"We're on the clock unfortunately. And we were wondering if we could ask you a couple of questions, Riley."
Mike's tone of voice remained calm yet sterile; his eyes warm and cheerful, as he studied the other man, trying to read his body language.
"It's not about that shooting, is it? What a horrible, horrible thing to have happen. I couldn't believe it when I first heard about it. Now wait a minute…that's where I saw your friend before. You made the national news, sunshine!"
Jerking wide awake, Steve shared a confused glance with Mike when Riley darted off toward the bar, then returned with a copy of the New York Times. Much to his dismay, the front page featured a photo of him holding onto a severely distressed and weeping Hank the night of the shooting, the head line reading "City by the Bay in Shock after Night Club Massacre Claiming 64 Lives."
Accepting the paper and then handing it over to Mike, Steve exhaled slowly, trying to not think about his face being all over the news, and any implications that could arise from it.
"So much for keeping cameras away from the scene of the crime…"
"I guess so…", Mike countered cryptically, reading the headline for a moment, then shifting his attention back to Riley, "Say, have you received any threatening letters or phone calls lately? Has anybody come in here to cause trouble?"
With a vigorous headshake, Riley accepted the paper back and put in on a nearby table, before nervously fidgeting with the sole button holding his leather vest in place.
"Nothing out of the ordinary, Lieutenant. Believe me, that was the first thing I was thinking too. I did dig out a few threatening letters I received oh…maybe a year or so ago, after one of the gay pride events we held here. I figured they might help you. Here, let me grab them real quick…"
"That would be wonderful, thank you."
As they watched the bar owner disappear behind the kitchen door, Steve took another sip of water, before daring to ask the question he couldn't get out of his mind.
"You think a place like this could be next on the list?"
Even as he whispered those words, they seemed to reverberate throughout the small bar area and beyond. It was a lucky coincidence they were the only patrons at the moment.
"It's not out of the realm of possibilities unfortunately.", Mike answered somberly, just as Riley returned with a thin manila folder.
"Here you go guys, knock yourselves out. Some of the letters seemed to come from the same guy, just the way they were written and the…the derogatory names he repeatedly used."
"My partner and I will be sure to take a close look at them and match them against what we have from Hank and Barry's.", having returned to his professional and courteous self, Mike pulled Jimmy Desco's camera picture from his breast pocket, and handed it over, "Have you seen this guy before by any chance?"
It was a long shot, they both knew it. And as such, they weren't surprised when Riley shook his head in obvious disappointment.
"I haven't, no. Is this…is this the monster who did this? Oh my God…I can't begin to image the loss. What are you going to do when you catch him, Lieutenant?"
Sharing an ominous glance with his partner, Mike shrugged slightly, and accepted the picture back.
"Well, he'll be treated like any mass murderer, tried in front of a jury having to face all the charges associated with the shooting. It will be our job to provide enough evidence to hopefully get him behind bars for the rest of his disturbed life."