Steve looked around the lantern-lit paddock, trying to find the source of the scream. A trail broke off to the right, looking like a dark slash in the trees. He heard another shout from that general direction. Unsure of his balance, he inched backwards from the car, finally releasing the corner of the open door. When he didn't immediately fall on his face, he took several tentative steps toward the trail head.
Taking time to pick up one of the lanterns, he lurched unsteadily forward. Steve kept the light well below the level of his eyes, afraid of the effect it would have on a growing headache. After several more steps, his bare feet made him aware of the transition between grassy paddock and gravel covered trail. While the sharp stones were annoying and painful, they served to focus his wavering alertness.
Voices carried through the woods, sounding alternatingly animated and scared. He paused, leaning against a tree. His inner cop impelled him forward, but in his current somnambulistic state, he wasn't sure what good he would be to anyone. Steve pressed forward in a repetitive pattern: a few steps, tree, rest, until he saw the end of the trail.
Lizzy was on the ground with her hands clutching her face, crying. Jeff stood above her. Even in the dim lantern light, Steve could see the strange look on the ponytailed student's face, somewhere between rage and confusion. To his horror, he saw something else; his own .38 in Jeff's right hand. Fortunately, neither seemed aware of his presence on the trail.
He put the lantern next to a tree at the side of the path and dropped to his hands and knees. It wasn't the optimal position for a stealthy approach, but with his balance compromised, it was the best he could do. Jeff had turned his back on Lizzy and the trail, he seemed to be conversing with his own inner demons.
Steve crawled as close as he could to Lizzy without exiting the trail. Straightening up to his knees, he leaned into a tree bordering the overlook and picked up a pebble. Praying Jeff was distracted enough if his toss went awry, he reached around the trunk and pitched it at Lizzy. It fell short. The tiny ping of pebble against gravel sounded like a gong in his mind, but Jeff and Lizzy still seemed ignorant of his proximity. Picking up another small stone, he repeated the action adding slightly more oomph.
He winced when the pebble bounced off her face. The outcome was not exactly what Steve intended but did serve to get the young woman's attention. She turned sluggishly toward the direction of the woods. Steve didn't know if she could see him in the weak backlight of the lantern, so he risked moving his upper body into the open again and waved his hand.
It took a while, but she finally seemed to recognize he was there. Steve shivered. Adrenaline was fighting a war with the effect of what he assumed was some kind of drug and hypothermia. Now that he had her attention, the question was what to do with it.
00000
The bulky Ford sedan rumbled and bounced up the rutted fire road. Even with high beams, the dark was pervasive, blacking out the details of the road and surroundings. Bill held onto the dash with both hands, bracing himself against the violent motion. Mike sat hunched over the steering wheel, knuckles white as he drove. The agonizingly slow progress up the mountain was feeding an already overwhelming sense of dread.
After a particularly challenging set of blind switchbacks, Mike ruefully wished Steve was piloting the LTD. As much as he kidded the young man about his driving, he had to admit this type of slalom was more Steve's forte. He banished the stray thought as the radio squawked to life. Bill risked bodily harm and took one hand off the dash to answer the call. Help was on the way.
"That was fast." Mike commented without taking his eyes off the road.
Bill looked at his watch, "Not really, we've been driving for over 20 minutes. Must be near the top."
The elapsed time surprised Mike, he'd lost track of its passage during the tortuous drive. Taking too long he thought as he pushed the pedal further to the floor. Two turns later, Mike noticed a dim glow ahead.
"That has to be it," he said as he sped up again, much to Bill's chagrin. Stealth wasn't an option. Whoever was in the clearing would have heard them coming well before their arrival. Bill silenced the radio anyway. Mike pulled the car to a skidding stop behind the dilapidated barn. The detectives exited with .38's draw.
"What's the plan? Wait for backup or go?" Bill asked in a low voice as he crouched down next to Mike on the driver's side of the vehicle.
"Think it depends on what's happening on the other side of the barn. Go left, I'll go right. Look around and come back to the car."
Mike crept to the edge of the building, taking care to stay out of sight. When he looked around the barn, he saw the Torino parked in the clearing with an open rear door. He spotted Bill, mimicking his actions on the far side of the structure. From what Mike could tell, there was no sound or motion near the car or anywhere else in the dimly illuminated clearing. He retreated back to the LTD.
"You see anybody?" Mike asked Bill when the detective returned to his side.
"Nothing. Where are they?"
"Let's go find out."
00000
Using the tree for support, Steve waved Lizzy towards him. She transitioned loudly from a sitting position to her hands and knees. His pulse raced, certain the noise had alerted Jeff. When the young man didn't turn, she made to push up to her feet. Steve frantically motioned for her to stay low to the ground. Lizzy stopped, seemingly unable to interpret his silent commands. He wondered if it was his altered state causing the miscue, or if she was drugged as well.
Before Steve figured it out, Jeff turned. Lizzy froze. Steve quickly slid back behind the tree. A scuffling sound from the overlook told him that something was happening, but he dared not move from his meager concealment. He looked back up the trail and spotted the kerosene lantern, just out of reach, and cursed silently. The minute Jeff entered the path, he would see the light and know Steve was under foot.
Not wanting to expose his position, Steve put his back to the tree and slid to a sitting position. He reached out with his foot in an attempt to upend the light. In theory, kerosene hurricane lanterns would extinguish themselves when knocked over, he just hope it wouldn't set the whole mountain top ablaze.
The warmth from the contained flame radiated on his bare toes, but he couldn't quite reach it. Sliding lower on the tree, he knew he'd made contact by the searing sensation on the ball of his foot. The trail turned ebon as he noiselessly tipped the lantern.
Steve waited in the dark trying to control his urge to shiver, barely daring to breathe. He hoped he could interrupt Jeff and Lizzy's passage as they came by him, without getting her, or himself shot. It was a tall order in his current condition. He was puzzled when a noise echoed down the path, but not from the direction of the overlook.
00000
Mike opened the trunk and retrieved two flashlights, handing one to Bill. They made their way around the barn to the deserted clearing and performed a quick search. Mike saw the draped, filled tub in the pale lantern light and shuddered.
"Anything?" Mike asked Bill as he exited the barn.
"Nothing. Where do you think they went?"
Mike swung the beam of his flashlight around the clearing, stopping on the trail head. "That way, I hope."
They jogged towards the trail. After several minutes along the path, they could see two figures silhouetted by light beyond the edge of the trees. Mike put his arm across Bill's chest, stopping him short. He put his finger to his mouth to insure the silence of the startled detective. Mike turned out his light and stepped off the trail to the right. Bill followed suit, sliding behind a tree on the left.
Steve thought he was dreaming when two lights appeared, approaching his position from the opposite direction. The idea was reinforced when the lights just as quickly evaporated. Behind him towards the overlook, he could hear movement on the trail, short of his position. As the footfalls neared, a dancing light pool created by a swaying lantern crept close to his bare feet. He drew his legs to his chest to avoid detection.
Lizzy clutched the bail of the kerosene lantern, illuminating her current peril. Jeff's right arm was wrapped tightly around her waist. He held Steve's gun to her neck with his left hand as they walked in tandem back to the barn. Steve was paralyzed by the sight. He knew that any attempt he made to halt Jeff's progress would be feeble at best and might cost Lizzy her life.
"Drop it, Powers," Mike called from his position behind the tree. He trained his .38 and flashlight on the unsuspecting student. Steve slumped against the tree in relief. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He was even happier as he heard Bill Tanner's deep baritone reiterate Mike's message.
The next few minutes were a confusion of light and shadow. After several tense moments, Powers panicked and pushed Lizzy forward. She dropped the lantern as she fell to the ground, leaving the scene lit only by strobing flashlight beams.
Several shots rang out, although with the way they echoed Steve couldn't tell from which direction. He crawled out from behind the tree, keeping close to the ground and hopefully out of the line of fire. He reached for Jeff's legs from out of the darkness, attempting to trip the fleeing suspect. As startled as Powers was by the unexpected snare, Steve's attempt was only partially successful in securing the situation.
Jeff went down. The .38 skittered up the trail.
"MIKE," Steve called as he pawed futilely at Jeff's legs, trying to prevent him from retrieving the weapon. "He's down, hurry. I don't' know where the gun went."
"STEVE" Mike was stunned and delighted to hear his partner's voice from the scuffle in the darkness. "Cover me," he barked to Tanner as he broke from his position behind the tree. Bill focused his light and pistol on the ground, illuminating Steve and Jeff's competition for the errant weapon. Mike sidestepped the downed young woman and subdued Jeff Powers with a well placed knee on the back and a .38 pressed to the back of his head. "It's over." He barked. Jeff Powers ceased his struggle.
Steve rolled away from Mike and the suspect, supine on the trail, panting. The sound of pounding feet on the path told him additional backup, alerted by the gunfire, was on the way. He smiled and closed his eyes when he heard the reassuring click of handcuffs. It was indeed over.
00000
Steve wasn't sure how much time had elapsed. He was sitting on the ground, back up against a tree and to his great satisfaction, almost warm. A reassuring hand on his arm and the booming voice of Mike Stone told him all he needed know.
"Rise and Shine, buddy boy. Ain't no way I'm hauling your butt down this mountain."
When he opened his eyes, the trail was saturated by unnatural light. He quickly closed them again.
"Don't you dare!" Mike chided, playfully patting him on the cheek. The relief and joy in his voice was palpable. Steve carefully reopened one eye, and extended a hand. Mike pulled him to his feet, which hurt. A blanket tumbled to the ground.
"Owww," he groaned as the burn on his foot announced itself with authority. He swayed a little, trying to take the pressure off the painful singe.
Mike picked up the blanket and draped it over Steve, then steadied him with a hand on the shoulder. "You ok?"
Steve felt terrible. "No." He gave Mike a weak smile. "But I will be." He broke free from Mike's grip and limped down the trail, pulling the blanket close to his body. "Where's Lizzy?"
"She's fine, already headed down the mountain I think. What happened to your shoes?" Mike said as he covered the short distance and walked close to the young man, monitoring his stability.
"No idea." Steve leaned into the comforting presence of his partner and friend. "Thanks, Mike. I owe you one. Guess you figured it out."
Mike laughed. "Yeah, probably before you did by the looks of it." As they walked a little further, Mike's tone shifted. "And you're welcome, my friend. Let's get out of here."
Epilogue
Mike and Steve entered the bull pen debating the knowledge of right and wrong and its relationship to prosecution. It had been quite a while since they'd put the finishing touches on the Da Vinci Case. Jeff Powers was still under observation in the Psychiatric Ward of San Francisco General. According to Lenny, it was fifty-fifty whether he would ever stand trial for his crimes. Mike had opined loud and long on the innocent by reason of insanity defense Powers' lawyers had crafted. Eventually, Steve tuned him out, still unsure of how he felt about the outcome of the case. There was no doubt Jeff Powers was nuts. He'd leave it to the doctors and the lawyers to figure it out.
Steve had planned to check up on Lizzy Grisko and see how things were going for the young college student, but life and crime got in the way. After getting coffee, he sat down at his desk and checked his messages. One of the numbers struck a familiar chord.
He dialed, fully expecting Lizzy would be in class and was surprised when she picked up the phone after the third ring.
"Steve, I'm so glad you called. What are you up to tonight?"
Having every intention of spending the evening with a book he'd been wanting to read, laundry and an early bedtime, he hesitated, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Um, not much, why?"
"I'm on my way to class right now, but if you meet me at the deli at 6:30, I'll tell you all about it."
He really wanted to relax this evening and catch up on some sleep, but as a wise man once said, he could sleep when he was dead.
"OK. See you then."
After a few hours of paperwork, Mike dropped him off at his apartment, admonishing him once again to make it an early night.
"That's always my intention, mom, but sometimes…" he added with a wink and a smirk. Mike gave him a good natured swat on the arm. "Get outta here, wise guy."
Steve waved and jogged up the stairs, changing into jeans, boots and a corduroy jacket. He grabbed the keys to his beloved Porsche, which was newly restored to health after a lengthy and expensive stay at a local garage.
He pulled up in front of the deli and entered to the sound of familiar door chimes. Lizzy was sitting at the counter, working on a bowl of pasta while Mrs. Molinaro chattered in a mixture of Italian and English.
"Buona sera, inspector. How are you?" Mrs. Molinaro's attitude toward him had softened once the assault charge against Vince was reduced to a misdemeanor at Steve's insistence.
"Fine, thank you for asking. How is Vince?"
"Bene, bene. I sent him to mio fratello in Palermo. I'm hoping he can, lo radrizzare." She stopped and thought a moment, translating slowly. "Hoping my brother can straighten him out. He's earning the money to repay the fine by working at his uncle's farm." She smiled and blessed herself, looking heavenward. "Maybe he'll meet a nice Italian girl. Grazie for all your help."
"You're Welcome. I hope it all works out."
Lizzy turned around. She looked a thousand percent better than she had after the frightening events on Montara Mountain.
"OK, so what's the big surprise?" Steve dropped onto the stool next to her. There was a place mat and utensils on counter and before he could finish his thought, a large bowl of pasta primavera appeared in front of him. "Uh, I'm not really hungry"
"Forget it Steve, easier just to eat it. That's her way of showing she cares. Thanks Nonna." Lizzy watched as the older woman went into the back room, "We'll yell if anybody comes in."
"So…"
"Well first off, I never really thanked you for what you did for me."
He cut her off with a bad imitation of a B-Western Sheriff, "Ah, shucks, ma'am, twern't nothin." He ran his hand through his hair and looked at the floor.
"That was really bad."
"Yeah I know, but honestly, I was just doing my job."
"Sure, you come and rescue all the people you meet, in the middle of the night, multiple times."
Steve avoided replying by digging into the pasta. She was right, for some reason his protective nature had gone into overdrive when he met Lizzy Grisko.
After a few bites, he picked up the conversation. "Well no I don't usually, but seeing how things worked out, I'm glad I did. So how's it going?"
"Good, actually. I thought I was going to have to move or find a roommate, but Pam's folks really came through for me. They are picking up my rent for the rest of the year. I don't know if they felt guilty or what, that family has such a weird dynamic, but bottom line, I get to stay put."
"I know that makes you happy and it's good for Mrs. Molinaro, too. With Vince out of town, at least she has somebody here." He raised an eyebrow and added, "And you don't have to deal with Vince."
"All true, but it's not necessarily good for my waistline." She pushed away the half eaten bowl of pasta and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "You done?"
"Yep." Steve looked at the empty bowl. "Guess I was hungrier than I thought."
She chuckled and held out her hand. "C'mon, I want to show you something." Lizzy called back to Nonna and let her know they were leaving as she led him out the door.
"Where are you taking me?"
"You'll see."
They walked uphill toward the Institute, stopping in front of the Charles Campbell Gallery. She opened the door and pulled Steve in. The ambiance could not have been more different than the last time the two had been there.
The gallery was crowded with young adults and what Steve assumed were their parents, mulling around looking at works of art in the brightly lit space. While several people were sipping wine, the toxic fog from the Leibovitz show was absent. Steve recognized Lilian as the guardian of the gate from his last visit.
"I was wondering when you were going to turn up, Lizzy. Now that you are working here, I expect you to be on time. But under the circumstances…" She winked at Steve, who was totally mystified.
"After Anna died, the gallery needed to fill their intern position. I had to re-interview, but I got the job."
Steve gave Lizzy a hug, "That's far out."
"That's not all. After the mess with Walters and Gary's paintings, Campbell had a hole in his schedule and some serious PR problems, so he offered up the gallery to the institute for a student show."
While it was good news, Steve still had no clue as to why it was important for him to be here. Lizzy dragged Steve toward the rear of the gallery. "Here's why I wanted you to come."
On the wall was a large-sized painting. Steve walked up for a closer look and blushed deeply.
Lizzy grinned at Steve, who was trying desperately to hide his embarrassment and think of something to say. "Um, wow, that's really, um…you are talented."
"Do you like it? I think this is a much better way to immortalize you than what Jeff had in mind, don't you?"
Steve started to laugh, "If you say so. Thank you, I'm flattered, but do me a favor. Don't ever, ever, ever let Mike Stone see this. I'd never hear the end of it."
A/N: I had an image in mind for the final sequence in the gallery, but it is fairly obscure. Honestly, I think it's more fun for you to use your imagination. (You should be ashamed of yourselves ladies, LOL.)
I realized early on that this story was not many people's "cup of tea." I muddled through for my own edification and for the small minority who continued to read and offer encouragement. I would never leave you hanging. I respect you, and myself, too much. To those who read and reviewed, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your kind words mean more to me than you will ever know.
I know that I'm not an author, typist or proofreader. I make lots of mistake and for that I apologize. A special thanks to keller12917 for reading over the chapters as I posted and pointed out the typos so I could fix them. You're the best.
For the few that stayed on for the entire journey, I hope you felt in the end, that this was not a waste of your precious leisure time. Till we meet again on the Streets of San Francisco, adieu. MBC