AN: Many thanks, as always, to all my readers for keeping up with this story which is coming to its 50th chapter...possibly going to be my longest fan fic...
"EKTWSM9" - sparks will surely fly...eventually! Thank you :-)
"Sylvia Elaine" - Regarding the breadcrumbs Mike left for Steve...there's a clue at the end of chapter 30 where Irene mentions in her thoughts about how Jeannie may not be a child anymore but to Mike she will always be his little girl. This was a tricky part of my story to write as I needed Mike to clue Steve in while at the same time make everyone (including my readers LOL) think Mike had virtually given up. I hope it came out okay :-) Glad you are enjoying this story anyhow! Sorry, I still owe you a PM response...forgive me!
Speaking of PMs and individual reviews...I have some catching up to do and I do apologize for the delay in responding.
Tanith
Chapter 49
Staring up at the ceiling, Steve thought back to Mike's visit and tried to make sense of what he had told him. He had expected his partner to be a hell pf a lot more supportive, not to mention, concerned about his daughter's safety, yet he was willing to accept that Jeannie was not in any immediate danger. Too willing. Wait a minute...
Something was not quite right. He ran through everything Mike had told him and found there was something that didn't sound like something he would have said – at least not out loud and not when there was even the slightest chance that Jeannie could be in peril.
*"Whatever he may be, he's known Jeannie for years and he has never harmed her. I believe he does love her and she did call me today with a very clear message: she's not my little girl anymore. I have to respect that."
No way Mike would say those words and really mean it. He knew his partner well enough to know that no matter what, Jeannie will always be his little girl. He was too stubborn to accept anything else. He also knew how much Mike was against the relationship between Jeannie and Whitney, especially after their talks about moving in together. So, why did Mike say all those things? Unless...
Then it clicked and Steve realized it did make sense. The set-up. The all too convenient drug bust. The blood tests. Mike suspected an inside job and one that could involve the hospital staff. He was trying to let him know that he did believe him but he was not in the position or the place to tell him.
A strange kind of relief washed over Steve like a tidal wave. He didn't feel any better about the predicament he was in but so long as Mike was in his corner, he felt a newfound sense of courage and faith. The trouble was, he wanted more than anything to help his partner and Irene nail the Holdens and to warn them of how dangerous and cunning they were. Then his thoughts returned to Jeannie and he felt compelled to rush to her rescue. The idea that Whitney was keeping her drugged in order to control her, turned his stomach and made his blood boil. But the promise Mike made him keep was like an anchor, stopping him from running to her aid. Just how long will it hold him to that hospital bed, Steve wasn't going to put a wager on it. He was already thinking up the number of ways he could get past the officer standing guard outside his room. He didn't know Harry Oswald but he'd seen the officer standing by the door and sized him up. The man was built like an ox but he didn't appear to be fast. At full strength, Steve was confident he would be able to get past him easily enough but in his current condition, he wasn't so sure he had the stamina to outrun him. Sitting himself up against his pillows he began to do a self-assessment. His busted hand, which he'd been able to forget about earlier was now throbbing so he would need to remember to use his left hand. His ribs, abdomen and lower back ached simultaneously but the pain was tolerable. What worried him the most was the lump at the back of his head which was giving him a migraine with each sudden movement. He'd already smacked his head on the concrete floor of the garage just days ago and suffered a mild concussion. He hoped the blow he received more recently hadn't escalated the severity of his injury. An image of Jeannie in her comatose state resurfaced in his mind and he knew he had to decide quickly. Stay and trust Mike and Irene would be able to handle the situation or get out there and do something useful to save the young woman who came to mean so much to him?
When Mike and Irene reached the cabin, they were surprised to see the driveway empty. The lights were off and Whitney's car was nowhere to be seen.
"I'll go round the back," Irene said as she cautiously made her way to the rear of the building, one hand hovered over her holster while the other held a flashlight in front of her.
Mike took the front and gave the door a hard knock. "Jeannie!" He called out. "Whitney, open up! It's Mike."
No answer. Not a sound except the wind howling through the trees.
Irene met Mike at the front porch some minutes later. "It doesn't look like anybody's home, but there's a window open upstairs."
"Let's check it out," Mike suggested. He knew that without a warrant, any evidence they found would not be admissible in court but right now all he wanted to do was find his daughter and make sure she was safe. It was a mark of the true friendship he shared with Irene that she would put her own career at risk to help him and he would never forget it.
The two detectives climbed the staircase at the side of the property and took it in turns to enter through the window. Using their handkerchiefs to switch on the lights, they carefully navigated though the rooms without disturbing their contents or leaving their fingerprints behind. While Mike's search took him downstairs, Irene carried on upstairs. They rendezvoused in the living room a short time later in the hopes that the other had found something to go on but from the looks they shared, it was clear the cabin yielded nothing fruitful. The wardrobes were empty and so was the refrigerator. Had it not been for tire tracks outside, one would think no one had been there in some time. Irene scanned the living room, when something caught her eye.
"Mike, the fireplace," Irene pointed toward the hearth and headed straight toward it. She knelt down and allowed her hand to hover over the pile of ashes and burnt pieces of wood. "It's still warm."
Mike nodded and using his handkerchief, picked up a poker. "They were here just like Steve said." He swirled the poker through the ashes, unearthing the still smouldering embers below.
"Now, we just need to find where they went," Irene concluded, straightening up.
Mike sighed heavily as the weight behind Irene's words fell across his shoulders. Where could his daughter have gone or rather, where did Whitney take her?
AN: * reference to previous chapter
