AN: I'd like to thank all my readers for reading and thank you to those who reviewed and added my story to their favorites lists. I'm delighted you're enjoying this so far.

A special thank you goes to "meixel" for the treat today.

Many thanks to the my beta for editing and for the kind words.

ACT II: Part 1

SFPD, Bureau of Inspectors, 850 Bryant Street, San Francisco, 1973

It wasn't long before Inspector Steve Keller arrived at headquarters and was briefed by his partner about the homicide and robbery of Arnie's Convenience and Tobacco store. The worry etched on Mike's face was mirrored on Steve's and it made Jeannie's nerves all the more unsettled; so much so the young college girl began to pace her father's office which seemed a lot smaller to her than usual. Noticing her restlessness, Mike motioned for Steve to pause in his tracks. "Jeannie, sweetheart?" Mike called out softly though the girl's thoughts were too preoccupied she failed to notice that the room fell silent. She continued her pacing as she gazed at the floor, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"Hey, Jeannie." Steve reached out an arm and caught her about the shoulders gently. "You okay?" He peered into her face as she looked up, a little startled at how lost in her own thoughts she realized she was. She turned her head and saw Mike also gazing at her as if she was about to break.

"I'm fine. Really." Jeannie replied as she forced a small smile to play on her face.

"Sweetheart, we're almost done. Why don't you wait by Steve's desk while Steve and I wrap things up here?" Mike stepped up to Jeannie and took her gently by her elbow then led her out of the office. He watched her walk slowly to Steve's desk until she settled herself in the chair then he closed the door to his office and turned to his partner.

"She's pretty shook up." Steve commented.

"The last time I saw her like this was a few months ago when Leonard Cord was out."

"Yeah, I remember. Let's hope we can put this Larson guy away before it gets to the point where she sees him everywhere she turns." Steve rubbed the back of his neck as he felt his muscles growing stiff from the tense recollections of the past.

"Steve." Mike began darkly.

"What is it, Mike?" the young Inspector's attention was immediately raptured by his partner's tone.

"I need you to keep her safe. Don't let her out of your sight!"

"Mike, she's coming home with me remember? Nothing's going to happen to her."

"I know that, buddy boy. It's just that I can't shake this feeling I have about Larson. I don't know, maybe I haven't gotten over what happened with Cord. I'm going to tell you one thing I do know, Steve. I'm not going to stop looking for Larson until he's locked away!" Mike asserted.

"Mike, I'll never let anyone hurt Jeannie. You know that. But I'm also worried about about you and what you're about to do to yourself." Steve carefully replied as he studied Mike's deeply troubled features.

"What are you saying? That I shouldn't be out there doing everything in my power to bring Larson in?" Mike responded with a touch of heat entering his voice.

"Come on, Mike, that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"I just don't want to see you run yourself into the ground! How many times have you told me not to let my personal feelings get in the way of my better judgement? I'm not the only one who can see how much this is affecting you. The last thing that Jeannie needs is her father blowing his cool and taking unnecessary risks to his life or losing focus from exhaustion. Think about it, Mike! Don't do this on your own. Get Tanner, Lessing and Devitt to help you. The whole department is behind you." Steve persisted to bring his point across, in the hopes that his partner would come to his senses. He knew Jeannie meant the world to him and that she felt the same way about her father. To see Mike on the verge of committing himself in such an ardent way so early in the investigation triggered Steve's own protectiveness toward his mentor.

An awkward silence befell them before Mike sighed and nodded slowly. "How did you get to be so smart, hot shot?" A weary smile broke out across the older detective's face and Steve breathed out a sigh of relief that he had not over stepped any boundaries.

"I learned from the best." Steve replied, the pride creeping into his voice was palpable.

"Alright, you got me. I'll talk with Rudy and see how many men the department can spare to work with me on this. In the meantime, take Jeannie over to your place and stay there. I'll come by later tonight."

Steve nodded and turned to leave when Mike's voice caused him to stop in midstride.

"Steve."

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Mike. Oh, before you go, would you pick up a couple of pizzas on your way over?" Steve added the latter as an after-thought.

"Don't you have anything decent at your place? Besides I might not be around until late." Mike's jibe faded as his mood darkened once more.

"I'm just kidding, Mike. Jeannie wanted to make you something special for your birthday tonight. She invited me over. I thought maybe for her sake since her dinner plans are already ruined, you could at least get to my place at a decent hour. If you don't find Larson by then, you won't find him by running around blindly in the dark. He'll be holed up somewhere. Even criminals gotta have some shut eye." Steve reasoned quietly.

"You're really scaring me now, you know that? You've been holding out on me, buddy boy, with all this knowledge pouring out of you today." Mike shook his head in mock disbelief as he placed his hand on Steve's shoulder and walked him out of the office.

At the sound of Mike's and Steve's voices, Jeannie wheeled around in her seat then stood up.

"Alright sweetheart, you go on along with Steve. I'll come around later on." Mike took Jeannie by the shoulders and pulled her into a quick hug.

"Okay, Mike. I guess we'll see you around dinner time, right?" Jeannie worded her question with the intention of convincing her father to call it quits before he over worked himself.

"Okay." Mike reluctantly answered in what he hoped was a reassuring tone of voice. He smiled ruefully and as he watched Steve and Jeannie make their way out of the main office, noticing that his daughter didn't have her handbag on her. He glanced quickly over at Steve's desk and saw it wasn't there either. "Jeannie!" He called out as he walked briskly toward the duo.

"What is it, Mike?" Jeannie asked as she turned around to face her father.

"Did you have your bag with you when you came in?" Mike asked seriously.

For a brief moment Jeannie stood in silence as her eyes scanned Steve's desk before she came to the sudden realization that she had not seen her handbag since her run in with Larson. "I must have dropped it when I hit that man!" she gasped.

"Did you have anything in there that could identify you?" Mike asked.

Jeannie nodded apprehensively. "My college card with my photo on it was in my purse. It has my name and college address on it. I can't believe I didn't realize until now! Do you think he took it with him?"

"I don't know sweetheart. Maybe one of our boys took it to the lab. I'll talk to them." Mike tried to sound reassuring. "I'll call if it turns up."

Jeannie nodded nervously then leaned forward and gave Mike a kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?" Mike grinned.

"Be careful, Mike." Jeannie whispered.

Mike nodded, touched by Jeannie's concern. "I'll see you kids later." He quipped with a wink at Steve. He waited until the two most important people in his life left the main office before making his way to meet with the SFPD captain.

Residence of Steve Keller, 1973

Sliding the key into the lock of his apartment, Steve Keller opened the front door then stepped to one side as he gestured for Jeannie to enter before him.

"It's a little untidy but make yourself at home." Steve smiled warmly.

"It's not really all that bad, Steve." Jeannie assessed as her eyes scanned the interior of Steve's home. Apart from an opened soda can and some sports magazines strewn on the coffee table in the living room, Jeannie had always imagined Steve's home to be messier. She wasn't sure why she thought that way but she just did.

"You'll be sleeping in my room and I'll take the sofa." Steve led the way down the hall until he reached his bedroom. Since he fell asleep on the sofa the previous night, Steve wasn't too concerned about whether or not he had time to make his bed that morning. "You can put your things anywhere you like. I have a couple of empty drawers next to the bed you can use." Steve purposely neglected to mention that he deliberately left those drawers empty in case he had company staying the night. Though his job more often than not got in the way of his pursuing romance in his life, he did date on occasion. While he had known Jeannie since they were kids, he always felt uncomfortable sharing certain information with her. Dating was one of them. "Bathroom's on the right down the hall."

"I know, Steve. I came over with Mike for Thanksgiving, remember?"

"Right. I forgot. Anyway, I'll be in the kitchen. Are you hungry? Can I get you a drink?"

"Some orange juice if you've got some, would be great. I'll just wash up."

"Sure." Steve put Jeannie's travel bag down by the door then left her to unpack.

SFPD, Bureau of Inspectors, 850 Bryant Street, San Francisco, 1973

Lieutenant Mike Stone stood in front of Rudy Olsen's desk, waiting for the Captain to disengage from the telephone.

"Sorry about that, Mike." Olsen sighed after he hung up. "Are you sure you're alright handling this case? I'd feel a lot better if you got Devitt or Tanner to take it, particularly since Devitt has been to the crime scene and took Jeannie's official report."

"I have to take this case, Rudy. Please, I'll be okay." Mike looked Olsen in the eye, hoping he wouldn't be taken off the case.

"She's your daughter, Mike. Not only am I going against my better judgement but I'm also pulling a lot strings by letting you take the case."

"Come on now, Rudy. Don't you think I know all that? Why do you think I got Steve to take Jeannie to his place and not back to mine? I'm not going to lie to you. The thought that a murderer is out there with Jeannie's face imprinted on his mind scares me like you wouldn't believe but I'm not going to let that get in the way of my responsibilities. Because I know losing my head won't help Jeannie."

Convinced by the senior detective's argument, the SFPD Captain nodded. "Alright, Mike." A knock on the door diverted both men's attentions. "Come in." Olsen called out.

The door opened revealing Lieutenant Roy Devitt carrying a folder in his hand. "I got Cain Larson's records." Stepping into the office, Devitt handed the file to Mike who opened it and began to pore over the contents.

"Breaking and entering, assault with a deadly weapon, possession of illegal firearms and the list goes on from juvenile delinquent to hardened criminal." Devitt explained when he saw Mike struggled to read the fine print without his glasses. "By the time he was seventeen he had already been arrested and charged three times for a string of offenses including mugging, assault and a car-jacking. He's been more or less clean for the last year and a half since he was released from San Quentin after serving five of an eight year sentence for grievous bodily harm and armed robbery. He beat and stabbed the attendant at an all-night gas station and got away with a measly amount in cash. The victim survived, but barely. She was lucky a truck pulled in for gas. Larson took off out the back door."

"She?" Mike choked on the word as an image of his daughter's battered and bloody body emerged in his mind.

"Mike," Olsen started when he saw Mike's face drain of color.

"I'm fine, Rudy." Mike stated before turning his attention back to Devitt. "Do we have an address?"

"We did. He lived at a run-down hotel room until this morning. Tanner just got off the phone with Mr Grimes, the hotel manager. Larson hasn't been keeping up with the rent and got into an argument with Grimes yesterday who collected the keys from him this morning." Devitt detailed.

"Okay. Maybe someone on the streets can tell us where we can find him. Rudy?" Mike gave Olsen an enquiring look.

"Go ahead, Mike. I've said my peace."

"Let's go." Mike said as he led Devitt out of Olsen's office.

Residence of Steve Keller, 1973

Looking into the refrigerator, Steve let out a low whistle. Great, just great. He mentally kicked himself for being too lazy to restock on everyday means.

"Steve?" Jeannie's voice pulled the young man's head from the fridge. "You know how I wanted to do something for Mike tonight? I was thinking of cooking up a storm. At least it'll keep my mind off what happened today."

"You know what? I think that's a terrific idea but we have one small problem."

"What's that?"

"I don't think I have all the ingredients you need to make your chicken Marsala. As a matter of fact I don't even have chicken or Marsala." Steve let out a nervous laugh. He felt himself go red in the face and his stomach squirmed with embarrassment at the thought that he was failing on being a good host to his best friend's daughter.

The corners of Jeannie's mouth twitched as she tried to hold back the laughter that threatened to surface. A short giggle escaped followed by another to be joined by Steve's chuckling. "Okay, Steve. What can we make for Mike?"

"Let's see." Steve poked his head back into the fridge and assessed the scant contents. "How about omelettes?"

Residence of Mike Stone, 1973

The rock shattered the glass, creating a jagged hole just large enough for Cain Larson to carefully squeeze his hand through and unlock the window. Pulling his hand back out, he unwrapped the material that shielded it from the glass shards then stowed the handkerchief into his pocket. He pushed the window open and crawled inside the Mike's home.

Larson had studied the address book he retrieved from the young girl's bag and found the addresses of two people who lived locally. One was listed as Mike and the other Steve. Since she had not written in their last names, Larson assumed one of them could be a boyfriend or member of her family. Someone she could be staying with.

As he crept across the kitchen floor, Larson kept his ears trained for any noise issuing within the house or out on the driveway. His eyes darted in every direction but after a quick sweep of all the rooms, he found that no one was home. Wondering into the living room, the young man found an assortment of photo frames housing a grey haired man, a younger man with light brown hair and the girl he sought. He could now see the similarities between the older man and the college girl and deduced that he could be her father. Larson noted that the younger man was not seen in any of the photos alone with the girl. Since he bore no resemblance to her or the other man, the crook decided he was not related to them. As Larson continued to inspect the room, his eyes zeroed in on a wooden plaque hanging above the television set. The name Lieutenant Michael Eugene Stone was etched on the silver plate as well as the message beneath which read, Twenty-Five Years Of Service With The San Francisco Police Department. Larson's hatred for the law had burned a hole in his very being and twisted his insides. Breathing heavily, he grabbed the plaque and tore it from the wall then threw it across the room. As the rage flowed through his veins, the young man kicked the television set over, smashing the screen. He proceeded to rip the photo frames from the walls and threw them on the ground, breaking the glass. All through the house, Larson vented his frustrations and lashed out in fury, breaking, smashing and demolishing anything within his reach. He pulled open drawers and rummaged for cash and valuables, turning out the contents without a care. When there was nothing left to destroy, Cain Larson stood in the middle of the hall, breathing hard and fast. Maybe I'll just wait right here for you and your daddy to come home.