Thanks to everyone who came on this journey with me - I hope you enjoyed the ride!

Ryan, Manley, Devitt and Healey were standing in front of the elevator on the main floor when Steve and Haseejian marched the handcuffed but unresisting Robertson through the double glass side doors into the lobby. No one was smiling.

Haseejian pulled the Eureka lieutenant to a halt in front of his chief. Robertson's head was down; Ryan stared at the downturned face for several long silent seconds before he looked at the SFPD sergeant. He cleared his throat, as if he wasn't confident he could find his voice. "I'll, ah, I'll take it from here, Norm." He put a hand on Robertson's elbow and turned him towards the closed elevator doors, glancing gratefully at the others as he pushed the button. "Why don't you fellas go back to my office and I'll join you when I can."

"Ah, sir," Steve said quietly. When Ryan looked at him, he held up the briefcase, his eyes snapping quickly to Robertson and back.

Ryan nodded. "John, take of that, will ya? Go through it, all of you."

"Sure, Scott. Of course."

The elevator doors opened and Ryan pulled Robertson inside. The others watched as the doors closed then glanced at each other. "Let's take the stairs," Manley suggested and the others nodded.

The trek up to Ryan's office on the second floor was made in silence, Manley leading the way. He opened the office door, stepping back to allow the four detectives to enter ahead of him.

"So… what happened?" Mike's voice assailed them before the first man had crossed the threshold. Haseejian's head snapped in the lieutenant's direction but he kept his mouth closed. Steve, third in line, looked around the door as he passed it; Mike was sitting, cross-legged and arms folded, in the chair he'd been occupying when they'd left.

Devitt, bringing up the rear, allowed himself a low, mirthless chuckle. "Wow, I never thought you'd take my threat seriously… Thanks…"

They all moved back to their respective chairs and sat; Steve put the briefcase on the desk. Mike continued to look from one to the other, patiently waiting for someone to tell him what had transpired. Or so it appeared.

His eye widening in bemusement, Steve tilted his head and stared at his partner as if daring him to come clean. Mike stared back, and he was better at it.

Healey looked from one partner to the other, frowning. He had a strange feeling that something was going on between them but he was damned if he knew what it was. Haseejian glanced at Devitt and raised his eyebrows; the lieutenant shrugged slightly.

With a benignly inquisitive facade, Mike turned to Haseejian and Healey. "Well, will somebody tell me what happened?" he asked with a lot more patience than they would have expected from him. Now they were all suspicious.

"Ah," Haseejian broke the silence, "well, he, ah, he went out the back door for his car and Steve and I intercepted him. He gave up without a fight."

Mike's head went back slightly, as if in surprise, and he smiled. "That easy, hunh?" He turned to glance at Steve and Devitt, who were on his other side. "Well, good for you. Well done."

"It, ah, it was Norm and Steve that cuffed him," Devitt added, still looking at Mike with knit brows, confused.

Mike's eyebrows shot into his hairline and his head swiveled back and forth between his partner and the Armenian sergeant, grinning. "Terrific work you two. That's… that's great."

Steve, who had continued to stare at his partner with barely contained amusement, bit his bottom lip, bobbing his head and raising his eyebrows. "Thanks," he said dryly, then cleared his throat demonstrably and turned to Sheriff Manley sitting behind the desk. "So what happens now, John?"

Manley, who had been watching the interplay between the SFPD officers with a touch of bewilderment, turned his attention to the young inspector. "Oh, ah, well, I guess after Scott finishes his… interview, he'll call the Feds and Robertson'll be turned over to them." He stared pointedly at the briefcase.

Mike, his smile now gone, uncrossed his arms and sat forward slightly. "Is that Robertson's?"

They all nodded. Manley, with a glance back up at them all, turned the briefcase around and popped it open. Healey and Haseejian got up and crossed around to the far side of the desk beside Manley.

The Colville sheriff took a thick stack of thin files out of the briefcase and laid them on the desktop. "What the hell is all this?" he said under his breath as he closed the now empty briefcase and put it on the floor at his feet. He took several files off the top of the stack and handed them across the desk to Steve, who passed a couple to both Mike and Devitt, keeping a few for himself. Healey and Haseejian helped themselves, returning to their chairs. Manley picked one up and sat back in his chair, flipping it open.

It was less than two minutes before Healey said, "I've got it." He glanced up at the others, who had turned to him, and hefted the file in his hand slightly. "John Martin Hall, arrested three years ago for B&E and aggravated assault. The charges were dropped for lack of evidence." He looked up at his partner and raised his eyebrows. "Does that name ring a bell?"

Haseejian sat back, frowning, letting the file in his hand drop to his lap. After a few seconds, his eyes widened and he sat forward again. "Hall… yeah, right… he's the brother of a woman who's married to a Crocker, right?"

Healey nodded. "That's right. One of the Crocker second cousins or something like that, if I remember correctly." He looked at Devitt and Mike. "Norm and I got a good lesson in the Crocker family lineage. I'll have to check my notes, but I have a feeling we can recognize a lot of the surnames on that tree." He nodded towards the files with his chin. "What are some of the other names?"

For the next fifteen minutes, they went through all the names in the stack of files; there were thirty-two in all. Healey and Haseejian could tentatively confirm that they recognized twenty-three of the names as being branches of the extended Crocker family tree.

When they were done, Devitt sat back with a frustrated and angry sigh. "So that's what Robertson was doing… helping to toss out cases against the extended Crocker family, to keep the drug dealers out of the clink so they could keep the family in business."

"Yeah," Healey added, "it seems like every time one of them… strayed from the straight and narrow and did something stupid they got caught for, like drunk driving or assault, Robertson managed to get the charges dismissed or was somehow instrumental in making the evidence mysteriously disappear."

Manley shook his head. "Well, he was good at it, from the looks of these." He gestured at the files now back on the desk. "I guess we'll have to see what Scott gets out of him, but this is good ammunition to get Robertson to open up, especially if he's offered immunity."

"Immunity's too good for him," Haseejian growled, and the others nodded. The idea of a crooked cop was abhorrent to them all.

# # # # #

It was a little less than an hour before Ryan returned to his office, his mood dark and frustrated. Robertson had invoked his right to counsel and they were awaiting the arrival of his lawyer, which could take several hours, and the Feds.

Manley showed him the files they had discovered in Robertson's briefcase and Ryan's mood darkened even more.

Exhaling loudly in irritation, the police chief addressed them all. "Look, fellas, this is going to go on for a long time… and I don't just mean today, of course… and it's really just our responsibility now… well, ours and the Feds. There's no point in you guys hanging around, and I know you've checked out of your motels and all that…" He sighed in resignation then glanced at Manley. "John and I appreciate everything you've done, all of you. I know this started out as a missing persons case but obviously it's exploded into something much more… and while it's a blight on the entire area up here, we've – hopefully – put an end to it."

The police chief got to his feet and the others followed. "I can't begin to thank you enough for all that you've done… and all that you've had to endure," he looked pointedly at Mike and Steve and smiled gratefully, "but I think it's time for you guys to go back to your own lives and your own… problems, and let us sort out ours up here."

He started to shake hands all around. Devitt snorted dryly, "I have a feeling this isn't over yet, not by a long shot… do you?"

Ryan looked at him and smiled grimly. "No, you're right, I don't really think so either, but we can hope, can't we?" He took them all in with a warm smile. "But I have a feeling we're going to see you all up here again when this goes to trial… if it ever goes to trial…"

There was a soft knock on the door and it opened slightly. "Excuse me, Chief, but the Feds are here."

Ryan nodded at the unseen officer. "Thanks, Allan, I'll be right there." The door closed. With a grim but thankful smile, Ryan looked at the SFPD officers again. "It's been a hell of a ride, gentlemen, and for us it's a long way from being over." He glanced at Manley, who nodded back. "You guys have a safe trip home, and John and I promise we'll keep you in the loop."

"You bet," Manley confirmed, "especially about those boys that are still missing. If we find out anything about them, I'll make sure you're notified."

"Thanks, John," Mike responded warmly, taking the sheriff's hand in both his own. "Please tell the families, from Steve and me, that we did the best we could, all right?"

Manley smiled softly, nodding. "Oh, I think they know that already, Mike, but I'll make sure to tell them again. And believe me, the Steen family isn't going to forget you guys anytime soon, that's for sure."

Nodding with grim acceptance and the ghost of a smile, Mike put his hand on his partner's back and slid it up to grip his shoulder as they turned towards the door.

# # # # #

"Well, at least it's gonna be well past rush hour by the time we get home," Devitt said with a slight chuckle as the five SFPD officers crossed the parking lot towards the two Galaxies in the late afternoon sunshine. They had hoped to head out before lunch but the events of the day had delayed their departure.

Haseejian glanced at his watch. "What say we stop for dinner in a couple a hours? How does that sound?"

"Works for me," Healey agreed and the others nodded.

As they reached the cars, Mike, who had been walking slightly behind them all, his head down and his hands thrust deep into his pants pockets, turned to look back at the old courthouse building. Steve stopped and turned to him. "What?" he asked quietly. The others heard him, slowed and turned as well.

The older man sighed. "It just feels… wrong leaving them with all those loose ends and all that work still to do…"

Steve glanced over his shoulder at Devitt, who had taken a step closer.

"I know, I feel the same way," the gray-haired lieutenant said, "but you know as well as I do that there's nothing more we can do. It's not our jurisdiction, Mike, and it's not our case… it never was. You and Steve were just… consultants, right?"

Reluctantly, Mike nodded, turning slowly back to his colleagues. He snorted. "You're right." He looked at Steve and smiled. "Okay, fellas, let's go home." He took his hands out of his pockets and threw an arm around Steve's shoulders as they continued the few yards to the tan Galaxie.

Healey and Haseejian moved to the moss green one beside it, Healey opening the driver's side door. "We'll take the lead, see if we can spot a good place to have dinner in about an hour or so. How does that sound?"

"Works for me," Devitt replied, getting behind the wheel of the tan sedan. He was just about to close the door when he heard both back doors open. Frowning, he glanced into the rearview mirror. He had expected Mike to sit in the front with him, but the lieutenant was easing himself into the back seat beside his partner.

With a soft, surprised snort, Devitt slammed the door and put the key in the ignition. Without a word, he backed the car from the spot and followed the other unmarked SFPD car out of the lot.

# # # # #

The sky was black; it was a new moon, and the headlights were the only illumination on the two-lane blacktop. They had stopped for dinner about an hour before and had just passed a highway sign announcing that San Francisco was 180 miles ahead.

Devitt was still alone in the front seat. He had been going over everything that had happened since Captain Olsen had sent him north to uncover what had happened to their colleagues. He and Healey and Haseejian had arrived to find Mike in the hospital, Steve unaccounted for and a thousand unanswered questions.

And now, barely a week later, they were on their way back home with not only both their colleagues but a lot of those questions answered. All in all, for all the heartbreak and misery their investigation had uncovered, for them it had turned out well.

But, more than anything else about the difficult and disturbing events they had endured - more than the taking of a life, more than the realization that young men had been sent to their almost inevitable deaths as payment for drug shipments, and that corruption and greed had invaded almost every aspect of life in that part of the state – was the simple truth that it was the unexpected and heartwarming disclosure from the young inspector in the hospital that had affected him the most.

With a warm smile, Devitt looked into the rearview mirror. It was dark and he could barely see his silent colleagues. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, he smiled to himself as he followed the red taillights of the car in front.

The cars rounded a long bend. Suddenly there were two cars coming towards them. As they approached, their headlights shone through the windshield, illuminating the interior of the Galaxie. Devitt glanced into the rearview mirror again, and in the stark headlight glare he saw them.

Steve's head was back against the seat, his eyes closed. Mike was leaning against him, his eyes also closed and his head on the younger man's shoulder. They were both sound asleep.

Grinning, and with a soft chuckle, Devitt returned his stare to the windshield.