a/n: Thanks for the continued support and reviews for this story. I very much appreciate it! And I hope you all are taking the opportunity to read "Journey of Fear", the new round robin piece. While I was tempted to wait to update this solo piece until "JoF" is up, I wanted to get one more chapter posted before I take a short break.

Chapter 8

While only a two hundred and thirty mile straight line drive across the state, the road to Mono Lake seemed to pass through enough farming communities and stop signs for a thousand mile trip. What could have taken three or four hours on an interstate took Mike nearly six thanks to the two lane rural road passing through the heart of Yosemite and the traffic jam he encountered crossing the Bay Bridge. Mike's patience grew thin as he floored the city-issued brown Ford Galaxy to the Mono County Sheriff's office.

Reflecting on the early morning call and what information the deputy provided, Mike understood his partner was in custody for grand theft auto and a number of other driving offenses, including speeding, driving without a taillight, and disturbing the peace. He couldn't help but smirk at the lesser charges. It was explained that the tent stake in the ignition sealed his fate as a car thief, although the deputy suspected extenuating circumstances after reading the APB.

"Flagrant necessity!" Rudy barked as Mike explained the situation to him before he left to retrieve his partner. The police captain had returned to his office after spending the night babysitting Clark Smith.

"I know, Rudy. Despite it all, the deputy seems reasonable. He made the arrest before he saw the APB on Steve. But since Steve's so-called crimes were committed after the APB was issued, I need to get over there and straighten things out."

"Crimes? He was just trying to find safety. Do you think you'll have any problems?"

"No, they just need to have someone 'official' from the police department here sign off on what happened to him. Once I do that, he'll be free to go."

"Harumph," Rudy responded. "Well, you go ahead and get over there. We still have the money drop to do at noon today and then we'll make an arrest." Rudy tapped his fingers while absorbing the latest developments. "Say, where were the casino goons holding Steve?"

"Somewhere in Yosemite. Steve looked at the mileage on the car when he escaped and has a good idea where he was being held," Mike began.

"Figures," the Captain interrupted as he considered how resourceful Steve could be.

"When the deputy pulled him over, he calculated that he had traveled about seventeen miles. The deputy was going back to see if they could find the two men. Steve was able to give a good description, of course." Mike couldn't hide a small amount of pride in Steve's actions under pressure.

"Now that Steve is no longer a hostage, what's stopping the kidnappers from taking off?" Rudy asked as he tried to assess how Steve's escape figured into the noon meeting.

"I figure they have nothing to lose and that's even if the contact whose been calling Steve's father is aware that he's escaped," Mike surmised.

"What do you mean?"

"You see, it's clear that there were a couple of guys in Yosemite holding on to Steve. But then there's got to be a local contact here in the city. After all, they knew Smith's every move, especially early on. I would be surprised if the local guy here has no clue that their hostage is gone. Those two goons are stuck in the wilderness. With Steve taking their car and then with no lights, they probably had to wait until sun-up to walk any distance."

"Sun-up?" Rudy smirked. "You've been watching too many westerns."

"All right, sunrise. Happy?"

"Just go get your partner and bring him home." Rudy chuckled as he envisioned Steve's homecoming. "When he comes back, I'm sure that he'll be thrilled to be a part of a father-son reunion."

Mike thought for a moment. "You mean Smith. Yeah, I wouldn't want to be that guy right now. You should have heard Steve when I talked to him yesterday. He wasn't hurting or scared. He was simply mad as hell."

"Can't say as I blame him. You know, I wasn't happy to see Smith beat up like he was, but I understand why you did it. Really, Mike, after I sent you home, I decided to stay put at the hotel and keep an eye on the guy. The man has no conscience or any idea why he's to blame for this."

"Glad you figured that out, Rudy."

Continuing down the road, Mike thoughts returned to the present after recalling the conversation with his boss. By the time he saw Rudy and then stopped to get some clothes for Steve, it was after 7 am before he hit the Bay Bridge. Taking nearly a half hour to cross, Mike was finally happy to put the pedal down as he made his way across the state.

It was well after 1pm when Mike reached the Sheriff's office. As he walked in, he was greeted by a county police officer.

"Are you Lieutenant Stone?" the young man asked.

"Yes," Mike replied.

"We've been waiting for you, sir," the officer said as he extended his hand. "I'm Pete Miller. It's an honor to meet a homicide detective from the city, sir."

Mike smiled as he firmly shook the young man's hand. "Pleased to me you, too. Officer Miller, I believe you are holding a person of interest for me," Mike said teasingly.

"Yes, sir. Deputy Perkins just came back from Yosemite. He wanted to meet you here so you can get through the paperwork as quickly as possible."

Mike nodded. "How's Steve doing?"

"Okay, I guess. He was banged up some and has a broken wrist, so we got that fixed early this morning at the medical center. He was in pretty good spirits, but then he got a phone call a short time ago. He was plenty angry by the time he hung up and he's been quiet since."

Mike made a mental note about the call, wondering what it was about, but then lost his train of thought as Deputy Perkins appeared. The Mono Lake officer quickly introduced himself and the pair dispensed of the paperwork that represented Steve's freedom without hesitation.

"Is there anything else you need from me?" Mike asked politely after they finished.

"No, sir," Perkins responded. "Let's go back to the holding cell and get him out of here."

"I have some clothes in this bag," Mike began as he grabbed the duffle bag he'd brought in earlier.

"There's a place for him to change. We just fed him lunch, so he should be all set."

Mike followed Perkins down a short hallway to the first of two holding cells. Sitting on the cot with his knees tucked under his chin, Steve looked like a young man lost and facing a life behind bars.

"Hey," Mike said quietly to grab the younger man's attention. He caught more than a glimpse of his partner in jailbird grey. "You're getting sprung, Buddy boy."

Deputy Perkins unlocked the door as Steve slowly rose. He gave Mike only a slight smile. "Terrific. Got some clothes for me?"

"That I have," Mike said as he handed the duffle bag to his partner. While he was relieved to see the young man alive, he was worried by the haggard expression on his face. "Let me look at you for a second."

Steve stared back, rather embarrassed. "I'm fine," was all he could thing to say.

"How's the wrist?" Mike asked as he instinctively grabbed the cast for further examination.

"It's fine," Steve said abruptly. Mike looked at him dubiously as the young man modified his answer. "Okay, it hurts a little, but I'll live."

"You got a couple nice shiners going." Mike winced as he saw the darkness under Steve's eyes.

"Yeah, but my nose is not broken, despite what it looks like." Steve's tone was nasily but still very matter-of-fact.

"Go get changed," Mike ordered as he pointed to the men's restroom down the hall. He gazed over to the lunch plate that had been provided to Steve. He hadn't touched his food.

Steve rejoined him wearing a comfortable sweatshirt and jeans. Mike also remembered to bring shoes, which was a welcome change over the last two days.

"Say, you didn't eat anything," Mike stated obviously.

"I hate bologna. That's what the kidnappers fed me and that's what they fed me here. I can't take any more of it."

Mike couldn't read the mood of his partner, but understood why as the realization of the emotional drama Steve went through entered his mind. "Come on, let's get out of here and let me buy you something besides bologna."

"Works for me," Steve agreed in a flippant tone.

"Are we ready to go, Deputy?" Mike asked.

"All clear. And I heard the complaint about the food loud and clear. But you know, we don't usually get innocent people in our cells, so you have to consider the circumstance," Perkins teased. "There's a good little diner on the way out of town. Stop there and you'll have some of the best home cooking you can imagine."

"Sounds like a plan. Come on, Buddy boy. And thanks, Deputy. This is a happy day."

Perkins smiled back at the senior detective.

The lunch hour had past at Betty's Diner, so when Steve and Mike entered, they had the restaurant to themselves. As they settled into a comfortable booth, Mike perused the menu. "Say, there are a lot of good choices here." The senior detective knew he was overcompensating by being too cheerful. It was in stark contrast with the feeling of walking on egg shells around his partner.

"Yeah," Steve agreed as he read through the menu.

"I'm going to get some meat loaf. That'll stick to your ribs. You should get something like that."

"I don't want to go too heavy, Mike. I haven't had much in the last couple of days. Maybe a chicken sandwich or something."

"Get a milkshake. You look like you've dropped ten pounds."

"I'm sure I didn't lose that much, but a shake sounds good," Steve agreed pleasantly.

"Waitress, meatloaf with all the sides for me," Mike called out. "A chicken sandwich with fries…"

"A salad," Steve interrupted.

"A salad, and a vanilla shake for the boy here."

Steve rolled his eyes as he heard 'boy'. He looked over to Mike with annoyance, but then quickly changed his tune when he thought of the man who travelled far to bring him home. He didn't have to do all of this.

As the door of the diner opened, Steve's eyes grew large. Mike noticed the change in his expression.

"What?" Mike asked in a low voice while feeling the hair stand on the back of his neck.

"The two guys," Steve whispered. "It's them."

Mike turned around for a quick glimpse of the men. He swallowed back his anger and began to assess his next move.

At that moment, Marfisi and Bain recognized the young man. "You!" Marfisi yelled. And simultaneously, Marfisi and Bain drew their weapons.