Steve was leaning back in his desk chair, his eyes on the open file folder in his right hand. But he wasn't reading a word.

The bullpen was quiet. Healey and Haseejian were out, having responded to the report of a body discovered in a house in North Beach; the other inspectors and sergeants were busy with their own cases and Devitt was in a meeting with Captain Olsen.

He was pretending to be busy as an excuse to think. It was still too early to give Jeannie Stone a call, in the hopes that in some roundabout way he could find out where her father had disappeared to on such short notice. His eyes slid towards the inner office once again. He tried to remember if there was anything in Mike's demeanor the night before last when he had delivered the report and been sent home, but there was nothing. His partner was his normal self, for all intents and purposes.

So what had happened after he had left that had brought about such drastic action. As his eyes returned to the file folder, they passed over the desk phone. He froze slightly and sat up a little straighter then dropped the folder to the blotter as he leaned over the desk and pulled his Rolodex closer, flipping through the cards quickly, stopping on the one he wanted. He picked up the receiver and stuck it under his left ear against his shoulder and dialed quickly, then reached for his notebook and pen.

"Yes, ah, this is Inspector Keller from Homicide. I need an LUD report for the past 48 hours for the following number." He repeated Mike's home phone number twice. "Yes, thank you. I also need to know if there were any incoming calls to Lieutenant Stone's office phone from 10:30 pm to 4 am two nights ago." He paused as the details were read back to him for verification. "Yes, that's right. Ah, how long do you think that will take?" Another pause. "Great, thank you. Yes, I'll be waiting. Thank you."

He hung up and sat back with a heavy sigh. It wasn't much, but it was something… it was a start.

# # # # #

"Yes… yes, okay I got that, thanks… thank you very much." He hung up and sat back. It hadn't taken long to get the LUDs he needed. There had been no incoming calls to the De Haro house in the past 48 hours but there had been one call to Mike's office at 12:08 two nights ago. He could tell from the area code it was a southern California number, most likely Los Angeles.

Within an hour, he had the address of the house attached to the number, and it wasn't long after that he had the name of the resident. Jessica Renneker. It rang no bells.

Frowning, he stared at the name, trying to decide what to do next. He didn't want to call without knowing the reason why, and for the moment he was at a total loss. There had to be more he could find out, he figured, and went back to work.

By the end of the afternoon, he had accumulated as much information on Jessica Renneker as was humanly possible on such short notice. He sat back with a quiet smile, pleased that he had managed to put together as comprehensive a report so quickly.

Jessica Renneker was a 22-year-old aspiring actress living in a rented apartment in Venice, California, having moved into the quirky L.A. neighbourhood two years earlier. She was single, drove a used red Chevy Chevelle, and had never had so much as a parking ticket. But she did have ties to San Francisco, having grown up in the Richmond area. Her mother was deceased, but her father, Jerome Renneker, was living in Santa Venetia, just north of The City. He was a former San Francisco police officer.

Steve leaned over the desk, leaning on his forearms as he stared at the notes he had made on the legal length yellow pad, trying to settle on a plan of attack. He harrumphed softly.

It seemed unlikely to him that Jessica Renneker had phoned Mike out of the blue, unless she was calling to let him know something about her father. It was not beyond the realm of belief that Mike had known, and had probably even worked with, her father, who had been on the force for almost fifteen years, from 1946-60.

Steve frowned, staring at the name of the former cop, wondering why Jerome Renneker had left after such a short time, and well before any pension would kick in. That might be another avenue he should go down.

Had Jerome Renneker passed away and Mike made the trip to Santa Venetia to give aid and comfort to his family in their time of need? Steve sighed quietly; it was a possibility.

It was becoming obvious to him that he had to make at least one road trip. One of the things he had learned from his mentor was the advantage of face-to-face interaction; it was much easier to discern sincerity and believability while looking into someone's eyes instead of listening to them over a phone line.

With another sigh, he leaned back. The decision seemed to have made itself, he chuckled softly. It seemed much more logical to head up to Santa Venetia, which would take him less than an hour if he was lucky, than all the way downstate to Los Angeles. He glanced at his watch. 5:16. It made no sense to make the trip tonight and, besides, he still wanted to give Jeannie a call.

He looked towards the inner office. Devitt had long ago finished his meeting with the captain and was now back behind Mike's desk, his nose in a file. Steve got up and crossed to the glass door with his partner's name on it, tapping the glass softly with his right index finger. Devitt looked up, frowning slightly, then smiled and waved the younger man in.

"Ah, listen, Roy," Steve began tentatively, stepping into the room. "Ah, I know things are quiet around here right now… and Bill and Lee are wrapping up that Goldberg case so they're gonna be free… and seeing that Mike's on leave… Well, I was thinking –"

"That you'd like to take some time off while Mike is out too?" Devitt cut him off gently with a warm smile.

After a brief moment of confusion, Steve nodded, "Ah, yeah… if that's okay?"

"I thought you might suggest that. As a matter of fact, I spoke to Rudy about it and he said to give you the green light if you brought it up." He paused slightly as the younger man's eyes widened in surprise, and raised his right forefinger. "But we can only give you a week. We don't want to be two men down any longer than that. Does that give you enough time?"

"Ah, yeah, sure…" Steve frowned and cocked his head slightly. "Enough time for what?" he asked hesitantly.

Devitt's ghost of a smile stretched wider. "Enough time to find Mike… That's what you're trying to do, right?"

The inspector froze, unblinking, knowing he'd been caught out. He snorted softly and shook his head, looking down. "It's that obvious?"

Devitt shrugged. "Well, we're all detectives here, aren't we? It would be pretty pathetic if we couldn't figure each other out once in awhile." He laughed softly. "Listen, ah, I don't think it's anything nefarious – Mike taking off without telling anyone where he was going. But, ah, look, if you find him, give us a call and let us know everything's okay, will ya?"

Steve nodded with a grateful smile. "Yeah… yeah, I will. Thanks, Roy." He backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, and crossed to his desk. Less than ten minutes later he was standing at the curb on Bryant Street in front of the Hall, trying to hail a cab home.

# # # # #

"Hello?"

"Jeannie, hi, it's Steve!" He was determined to keep his tone light right from the start so as not to spook her.

"Steve… ah, hi!" She sounded pleased but a little skeptical.

"Yeah, listen, ah, sorry to call you out of the blue, it's nothing bad. I just need your opinion on something and I don't want your Dad to know." He had been thinking about this all day, an excuse to call Mike's daughter without tipping his hand.

"My opinion? My opinion on what?"

"Well, you know your Dad a lot better than I do, of course. Listen, ah, this may sound, I don't know… silly, I guess. But it's going to be our fifth anniversary in a couple of weeks – your Dad and me – and I want to get him something to commemorate it… you know, something like a wallet or… I don't know, something… Anyway, I thought maybe I could pick your brain for suggestions."

"Your fifth anniversary? Wow, time really flies, doesn't it?" She sounded genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, it sure does. Anyway, I hate to put you on the spot like this, but I was wondering if you had any ideas. I mean, you know, off the top of your head. Or maybe you want to think about it for a bit and call me back…?"

There was a short pause and he could almost hear her thinking. "No, no, I, ah… I… Humh," she snorted with a short laugh, "maybe your right. This might take some time. He's not the easiest guy to buy something for, that's for sure. I always have a hard time figuring out what to get him for his birthday or Christmas… Humh, let's see…" There was another short pause.

Sensing his opportunity, Steve jumped in with feigned gravity. "And for god's sake, don't tell him, okay? Not even in the vaguest terms. I want it to be a surprise."

She laughed. "Oh, don't worry about that, I can keep a secret, believe me. Besides, I won't see him again until I get home for the summer and that'll be after your anniversary."

He could almost hear the air quotes around that last word and he laughed. But his mind was racing. She had just, inadvertently, told him that Mike wasn't down there with her; now he had to somehow find out if she knew where he was.

"And I'm up to my eyeballs in exam prep right now so phone calls are going to be kept at a premium so I don't get distracted," she chuckled. "His rules, not mine."

He shared the laugh; he knew only too well Mike's concern that his daughter take her studies seriously. And he also knew that Jeannie would do anything to make her father proud, and that she took his benevolent solicitousness with cheerful goodwill.

"Well, ah, in that regard," he continued with a knowing chuckle, "I better let you go. Look, ah, give it some thought, okay, and give me a call if you think of anything? Like I said, I was kind of thinking of going with a nice new wallet – that one he has now has seen better days – but if you can think of anything else, I welcome the suggestion, okay?"

"You know, I think a wallet is a great idea, I really do."

"Cool, thanks, yeah, I'll look around for a really nice one and let you know. So, ah, you keep that cute little nose of yours to the grindstone, right? Make your Dad proud."

He could hear her soft and happy laugh. "Oh, you got it. Can't disappoint the old man now, can I?"

"You never could, Jeannie, you know that, right?"

Her laughter faded slightly, becoming almost self-conscious. "Yeah, I know," she agreed quietly, "Look, ah, I'd tell you to give him my love but then he'd know you called me so… you know…"

He chuckled affectionately. "Yeah, I know." He tried to keep his voice even but he was nodding to himself; she had just told him she didn't know her father was out of town. "Listen, ah, you nail those exams, you hear? And I'll see you in a few weeks."

"You got it… thanks. Great to hear your voice, Steve. And good luck with that wallet – it's a great idea, it really is."

"Thanks. Goodbye, Jeannie."

"'Bye, Steve." The line went dead.

Steve put the receiver on the cradle and sank back onto his couch. He picked the beer bottle up from the endtable beside him and took a sip. He knew what his next move was now; he was taking a road trip to Santa Venetia in the morning.

Where were you, Mike Stone?