Taking a quick glance down the staircase to the darkened living room, Steve knocked quietly on the door. It was opened by a frowning Mike, who smiled in relief then backed up. Taking a step into the bedroom, Steve closed the door quietly behind him. Mike had retreated to the bed and sat; he looked tired.
"Are you okay?" Steve moved deeper into the room.
Mike looked up and nodded, trying to mask the discomfort. His right hand was resting lightly against the left side of his chest. "I was not expecting to have to do that tonight…" he chuckled dryly.
"Yeah…" Steve agreed quietly as he sat beside his partner on the bed. "Well, thank god she didn't come home any earlier…"
Mike nodded with a soft snort.
"Did you take your pills?"
The older man nodded.
"Okay," Steve exhaled as he stood up, "well, we better get to sleep if we're going to hit the road by 5." He paused by the door and looked back. "How heavy a sleeper is Jeannie anyway?"
She had insisted that Steve stay in her room for the night while she slept on the couch. He had mentioned that, now that they were finished with the Kovalev boxes, he was going to move back home after their road trip.
Mike shrugged with a soft laugh. "Who knows? There was a time I could've fired a cannon beside her bed when she was a kid and she wouldn't move but who knows now…"
Steve smiled. "Okay, so, fingers crossed we can get out the door before we have to endure another third degree…"
Mike rolled his eyes and chuckled.
# # # # #
Tanner looked across the front seat and smiled again. He was a having a hard time reconciling his boss's new look; the suit and fedora really didn't go with the beard.
Mike had seen the glance and looked over. "What?"
The black detective's smile disappeared and he raised his eyebrows innocently. "Humh?"
The lieutenant glared at him silently for a long beat then turned to look out the side window. In the back seat, there was a muffled laugh that quickly became a cough and clearing of a throat.
The tan LTD was flying up the 80. They had managed to leave the house without disturbing the sleeping figure on the living room couch, foregoing their morning coffee. Tanner was waiting in the running car at the curb.
Traffic was almost non-existent and, as they were going against the flow anyway, they were across the Bay Bridge and on the 80 heading north very quickly. They had stopped for coffees and donuts in a small diner just off the highway in Berkeley, eating in the car, determined to get to Yreka by noon.
Steve glanced down at the fairly thick file folder on the seat beside him then at the back of his partner's head. He took a deep breath, frowning.
He had noticed a change in the older man's demeanour from the moment they left the house this morning. The closer they got to Dorris, the quieter Mike was becoming. This was something he had noticed a few times before, usually with cases that had become exceedingly personal to the veteran detective. Most of the time it was just a way of focusing on the task at hand but, very rarely, it was masking a growing anger than would eventually need an outlet.
He was going to have to keep a very close eye on his partner today.
# # # # #
The LTD turned into the small parking lot outside the Yreka CHP office and all three detectives wasted no time entering the small red brick building. They were met by Sheriff John Crabb, who introduced them to Sergeant Julian Braddock and three officers, Dennis Martinez, Bill Ayer and Alvin Murtagh.
Crabb had all the paperwork ready and, within minutes, they were back in the LTD and following two CHP cruisers onto the two-lane blacktop on their way to Dorris.
The CHP drivers obviously knew the route very well and the Dodge Polarases flew down the bumpy country roads at speeds that made even Steve a little nervous, and Mike had assumed his usual position – foot on the dashboard, right hand on the ceiling over his head. But Tanner was more than up to the task and stayed very close behind.
As the scenery, remarkable only by the fact that houses and farms were few and far between, flew by, Steve managed to catch a glimpse of a street sign: Picard Road. His eyebrows rose; they were closer than he thought.
The Dodges braked suddenly and pulled over onto the right shoulder; Tanner followed suit. The five CHP officers exited their cars and approached the LTD.
"Ok, Lieutenant," Crabb said with a nod, "the Carlyle house is just around the bend up there." At the San Francisco detective's curious frown, he added quickly with a smile, "I had Bill here drive by yesterday to scope the place out – in his own car, mind you…"
Officer Ayer nodded and smiled. "They have a Toyota Corolla, light blue. It was in the driveway yesterday, and it's there right now."
Steve looked over the officer's shoulder and through the small bushes he could see the roof of a small house and a flash of blue in what he assumed was the driveway.
"Now this is how this is going to go down." Crabb's eyes were snapping between the three big city detectives. He was as grizzled a veteran as Mike and they knew he was every bit as good a cop as he looked. And he definitely looked the part. "We're going to go park in their driveway and block the car. Murtagh is going to go around the back of the house and the rest of us will go to the front door. We have both search and arrest warrants, as you are aware, and we are willing to break the door in if necessary, but we're hoping it's not going to come to that, of course."
The sheriff nodded at his men and they nodded back.
"You three," he pointed at them all individually to emphasize his point, "can follow in your car but you are to park on the shoulder at least a hundred feet from the driveway and you are to stay in your car until we have completed our search of the house and, hopefully, the arrest of Jeffrey Lonsdale, if he is indeed in the house."
"He is," Mike said flatly, and all eyes turned to him in varying states of surprise, Steve's the less so but he was well aware of the emotions his partner was holding in check.
Crabb met Mike's stare evenly for several long and silent seconds, then he nodded. "All right, then we'll get him." He turned to his own men. "Let's go."
Everyone returned to their cars. No one exchanged a word as the tan LTD followed the Dodge cruisers then parked the requested hundred feet from the end of the short driveway. The Carlyle house was a small, well-kept, beige stucco bungalow with a gravel driveway. Crabb's cruiser slammed to a stop diagonally on the gravel lane, close to the back bumper of the light blue Corolla, the five CHP officers bailing out quickly. The trunk of Ayer's cruiser popped open and the tall, broad-shouldered trooper reached in and removed an AR-15 while the others unholstered their sidearms.
As the San Francisco detectives watched, Murtagh disappeared behind the house while the other four trotted up to the front door. Braddock and Martinez already had their flashlights in their hands, and Braddock slammed the butt of his against the door. They could hear the loud thumping all the way out to the LTD.
"Sheriff's Department, open up!" Braddock yelled, then they waited, listening carefully in the ensuing silence. He raised his flashlight and pounded on the door again. "Sheriff's Department, open up!" he repeated even louder, if that was possible.
From the car, their San Francisco counterparts watched as the front door opened. They couldn't see into the house as Crabb, holding up the search warrant he had removed from his back pocket, led Braddock and Ayer quickly into the house. Martinez remained on the stoop.
Steve looked at his partner's profile; Mike was staring at the house, hardly blinking, his jaw clenched. Steve knew how much was riding on this for the older man, and he could feel his own heart begin to pound.
It seemed to take forever before Crabb reappeared at the front door. He stepped out onto the stoop and looked in the direction of the LTD. He spoke briefly to Martinez then stepped off the stoop and crossed briskly towards the unmarked Ford.
Resisting the urge to get out, Mike waited patiently for the sheriff to approach. Crabb got all the way to the car and leaned close to the passenger side window, his hands on the doorframe, before he spoke. "He's not in there and they're saying they don't have a son," he stated simply with a quick shake of his head.
Mike's eyes snapped to the house and his jaw clenched even tighter. "They do and he has to be."
Crabb took a deep breath. "I've having my boys go through the house again, but I'm telling you, Lieutenant, it's a small place, and he's not in there."
Mike stared at the house silently for a couple of long beats. Crabb's eyes slid to the back seat, looking at Steve through the side window. The younger man raised his eyebrows and tilted his head; Crabb blinked slowly and sighed softly. He looked at Mike again, who had not taken his eyes off the front of the house. "Like I said, they're going through the house again. I'll let you know if they find anything." He straightened up and headed back towards the house.
Silently, Mike watched him go. Steve glanced at the rearview mirror; Tanner was looking at him expressionlessly. He looked back at the house.
Twenty minutes later, Crabb and Braddock stepped out onto the stoop again, obviously engaged in conversation. Crabb had his head down and his hands on his hips; he kept taking furtive glances towards the LTD.
Suddenly Mike opened the door and got out of the car. Scrambling, Steve and Tanner did the same, following the tall detective as he strode determinedly down the road, across the driveway and up to the front door. Crabb and Braddock had seen him coming and they were braced for what they knew was coming.
The Sheriff turned to face the stone-faced detective who stepped up onto the stoop. Taking his hands off his hips, Crabb stated flatly, "He's not in there, Lieutenant. And they're still insisting they don't have a son."
"Like I said before, they do and he is," Mike countered, meeting the hard dark eyes evenly.
Braddock, who had been looking from one superior officer to the other, cleared his throat slightly. "Ah, Lieutenant, there's no sign there's anyone in this house except the couple that own it. There's no clothes, no toiletries, no sign that there's more food in the fridge than what an older couple would normally have…" he offered with a compassionate shrug.
Mike turned his hard blue eyes on Braddock and a tiny smile played across his lips. "I appreciate what you're saying, Sergeant, but, not to contradict you, that really doesn't mean anything. This guy has gotten very good over the years covering his tracks." He looked at Crabb again. "He's in there. I know it."
The sheriff stared at the determined San Francisco detective for several long beats; nobody moved. Then he very slightly dropped his head and nodded once.
Steve saw Mike's stiff posture ease almost imperceptibly and he felt his own tight muscles relax.
"I want to go in," Mike said suddenly and every eye snapped to his face again.
Crabb stared at him for a long beat before he took a step back and gestured at the front door. "Be my guest," he said quietly, then glanced at Steve, eyebrows on the rise.
With a tilt of his head and a facial shrug. Steve followed his partner over the threshold and into the small house.