"What?" Mike asked testily, squinting at his partner who was staring at him in the bright morning sunshine. They were standing with the others at the hospital entrance, waiting for the KSP patrol cars to arrive.
Smiling broadly under his dark glasses as he balanced himself on the crutches, Steve smiled and shook his head. "I'm just not used to seeing you outside without your hat on," he chuckled.
Mike gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I know, it feels weird to me too," he confessed then grinned. "Well, you'll have to get used to it for awhile, I guess. Maybe I'll get a baseball cap at the airport."
Olsen and Pierce joined them on the sidewalk as the KSP cruisers swung into the circular entranceway, pulled to a stop and the second car's trunk was popped. As Pierce began to put their suitcases in the trunk, Doctor O'Neil approached Mike.
"Lieutenant," he said warmly, holding out his right hand, "it has been a pleasure, sir." Mike put his left hand out and they shook awkwardly. "You take care of yourself, okay, and don't forget to see your GP as soon as you can and give him all that paperwork I gave you."
Mike beamed. "Thanks again for everything, Doc, really." He glanced down at his shoulder, now covered with his blue-and-white checked shirt, the right sleeve hanging limply. "I owe you, that's for sure. And please make sure you tell Dr. Patel how much I appreciate what he and the base commander did for me, will you?"
"You bet. Just make sure you both get back to work as soon as you can, that'll be payment enough for all of us, okay?" O'Neil glanced at Steve and they both nodded. "You take it easy too, right? Let that leg heal completely before you start doing stunts again, do you hear me?"
"Stunts?" Steve asked quizzically, and they could see his brows knit behind the glasses. He turned to Mike. "What have you been telling him about me?"
The older men laughed as Sergeant Pearson opened the back passenger side door of the cruiser and stepped back. Pearson took Steve's crutches and put them in the trunk as the young inspector climbed into the back seat and slid across to the far side.
With a final shake of the doctor's hand, Mike got carefully into the back seat beside his partner and O'Neil closed the door. As Pearson got back behind the wheel, Olsen and Pierce got into the KSP cruiser behind them. The lead car pulled out, lights on and, with a final wave, the small convoy quickly left the hospital behind.
# # # # #
Mike was staring out the side window, watching the seemingly endless stands of trees whip by. While the lights of the cruisers were on, the sirens were not; Mike had surmised they would only use the siren when passing someone on the county road, and he was soon proved right.
He thought back to the previous night with a warm smile. It had turned out to be quite the little dinner party after all; he, Steve, Olsen and Pierce had been joined by Sergeant Pearson and Doctor O'Neil and his wife Karen; Sheriff Eli Noble and his wife Lois made the trip out from Kearney. And while he and Steve were on antibiotics and painkillers and therefore unable to drink, Mike made sure the others more than made up for it, after confirming there were going to be enough sober drivers in the group.
With a silent chuckle, he recalled Olsen's stricken face when he realized just how much the night was going to cost him.
The topics of conversation had happily stayed away from their recent adversity and instead centered around life in their respective hometowns. The four San Franciscans regaled the Kentuckians with tales of The City while the locals spoke of the colourful local denizens and legends. All in all, it was a delightful night, and a welcome respite from the apprehension that had seemed to haunt their lives for so many days.
With a relieved smile, he turned and looked across the back seat. Steve was staring out the side window. Mike resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, knowing he was being absurd but somehow needing that tangible proof that they really were both all right and going home.
As if reading his mind, the younger man's head turned and, even through the dark glasses, Mike knew their eyes had locked. Then Steve smiled and Mike caught his breath, swallowing hard before he could smile back.
When he turned to look out the window again, Mike had to blink quickly several times before his vision cleared.
# # # # #
The convoy pulled up in front of the small red brick Kearney police station. Before they got out, Mike looked to Steve again and knew they were both thinking the same thing: had it only been a week ago they had pulled into the same spot in the ill-fated dark green Galaxie?
Sheriff Noble and Deputies Carruthers and Carson were waiting at the curb, their faces wreathed in smiles. The deputies opened both back doors of the second car as it stopped in front of them. Carson helped Mike get out while Steve just turned on the seat and stood but electing to remain leaning against the car. Mike circled the car and approached the sheriff, his left hand out. "Eli, how can we begin to thank you…?" he said as he stopped in front of the avuncular Kentuckian.
"There's no need, Mike, ya know that. I'm just glad you and Steve are okay enough to go home, finally." He looked down and shuffled almost embarrassedly. "I wish we could escort you guys at least to the 75 but, well, things are a little, ah, unsettled around here today and we wanna make sure we're here in case somethin'…. blows up," he finished with a shrug, trying to sound casual.
Mike frowned. "How bad is it?"
Noble grinned. "Ain't nothin' we haven't dealt with before, lemme tell ya, but it's kinda imperative that we're here insteada on the road, ya know what I mean?"
"Gotcha," Mike nodded. He looked at the two deputies. "Fellas, what can I say? You guys are some of the best cops I've ever come across. Steve and I owe you our lives."
Both deputies looked down; Carter actually toed the ground self-consciously. The two San Francisco detectives smiled, Steve nodding vigorously in agreement.
Clearing his throat, Noble glanced at Carter. "Alfie…?"
Still embarrassed, the young blond looked up, puzzled. "Sir?"
With raised eyebrows, Noble jerked a nod over his shoulder.
"Oh!" Carter gasped. "Yes, sir!" He turned and hurried into the station and Noble looked at Mike with a 'what can you do?' expression. Seconds later, Carter reappeared with two paper bags, one large, the other quite a bit smaller. He handed the smaller bag to Noble.
"Ah, we didn't want you guys to leave empty handed," the sheriff began as he opened the smaller bag and reached in, "and as you guys weren't able to, ah, indulge last night because of all those drugs you're both on, well, we didn't want ya to leave the state without gettin' a taste of what we're famous for."
He took out a tall clear bottle that looked very much like wine but with a deep amber hue. He held it out for Mike to read the label. Mike looked from Noble's beaming face to the bottle as he took his reading glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on, putting his left hand on the bottle to bring it a little closer.
"Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve, 20 yrs old," he read, and behind him he could hear Pearson whistle in awe.
Steve turned to look at the KSP sergeant, eyebrows raised.
"That's, ah, that's probably the best, and most expensive, bourbon you can get," Pearson said quietly, shaking his head and grinning.
The city detective grinned back. The jar of 'shine was wrapped in a towel at the bottom of his suitcase; there was going to be quite a party when they got back to San Francisco, he thought.
Mike took the bottle from Noble's hand. "Thank you, Eli, thank you," he said sincerely with a warm smile. "We appreciate this, we really do, right, Steve?" he called over his shoulder and his partner nodded vigorously, his eyebrows bobbing.
Noble laughed. "Good. Then you two enjoy this in good health and, ah, if you care to share it with Rudy and Marty," he said, pretending to lean in and whisper, glancing at the two other city detectives standing nearby, "that's all right with us too."
Everyone laughed then Noble said quickly, "Oh, ah, Lonny, you want to give Jim the guns?"
"Right," Carruthers nodded, reaching for the canvas bag at his feet on the sidewalk and handing it to the KSP sergeant who opened the trunk.
Noble looked back to Mike. "Your .38's have been cleaned and oiled. Jim'll give 'em back to you at the airport. We don't want you two to have to worry about them 'til then. 'S that okay?"
"Not a problem," Mike agreed with a nod.
Noble inhaled deeply and looked at Mike with a warm smile. "And, ah, well, before we forget. Here." He held the large bag towards the detective then realized that with the bottle in his hand, the injured man had no free appendage to take it. "Oh, ah, sorry," Noble said quickly, pulling the bag back, "forgot. Here, let me." He opened the bag with both hands then reached in and, gently and carefully, removed the now pristine grey fedora.
"Oh my god," Mike heard softly from somewhere behind him, but found he couldn't take his eyes from his beloved hat.
"Wh-" he cleared his throat, "where did you find it?" His voice was so soft that Noble, who was mere inches away, had to strain to hear him.
Grinning, the Kearney sheriff took a step back. "Alfie!" he called over his shoulder and the young blond deputy came forward. "I think you should explain to the Lieutenant here what happened to his hat."
"Yes, sir," Carter grinned. Using Pearson as a crutch, Steve had hopped closer to his partner and was now looking over his shoulder. Carter looked at them both a little sheepishly. "Well," he began quietly, staring at Steve from under his brow, "I think ya might have been a little, ah, pre-occupied, but when we got the Lieutenant here back, one a the boys in the back a the truck picked this up and threw it in the road.
"It, ah, it was pretty dirty an' beat-up. I brought it back here an', ah, well, we just happen to have one hellova guy lives near here who really knows how to clean an' reblock a hat. An', well, I just took it to him to see what he could do." He gestured towards the fedora. "An' I think he did a pretty good job."
Mike, who had passed the bottle of bourbon to Steve, had reached out and hesitantly taken the hat from Noble, who relinquished it with a huge grin. The lieutenant, who had been through so much in the past week, stared at the familiar gray fedora like his life depended on it. Noble, brows knit, glanced at Steve, who just smiled at him and nodded.
Balancing on his good leg, Steve took his hand from Pearson's arm, put it on Mike's back and patted him softly. When Mike finally raised his head, his smile was sheepish and he cleared his throat. He chuckled self-consciously at Noble and Carter, raising his eyebrows. "I, ah, I don't know what to say…"
Noble laughed gently and turned to his deputy with a happy smile. "You've said enough, Mike, don't worry… you've said enough."
Pearson glanced around then at his watch. "Listen, ah, we gotta get goin' if we're gonna make Louisville in good time," he said apologetically, and the others nodded.
As they prepared to say their goodbyes, Noble took a step closer to the lieutenant. "Mike, ah, you're gonna pass the impound yard on your way outa town. If ya wanta stop in an' see the car –?"
"No," Mike snapped, cutting him off. Slower, he said, "Sorry, Eli, ah, I just, ah…"
"No, that's okay, I understand." Noble looked to Steve, catching the younger man's concerned stare at his partner, then he met Noble's eyes and nodded.
Mike slowly put the fedora on his head, smiling wistfully, shook hands awkwardly with Noble and the deputies and made his way back to the cruiser. Steve shook hands all around then, with Pearson's help, returned to the car as well, putting the bottle of bourbon on the floor at his feet.
As the convoy of cruisers left the small parking lot in front of the police station, Steve looked across the seat at his partner. Mike was looking out the side window, but Steve could see enough of his face to know his stare was unfocused and his mind far away.
# # # # #
The small parade of blue-and-white Caprices was making good time on the county road. Steve, having driven this route recently with Deputy Carruthers on their way to the Rutters, was somewhat familiar with their location. Mike had never seen it in daylight, and he was still not paying much attention; he kept looking down at the fedora on his lap, reluctant to even let it go.
Steve shifted on the seat; he knew they were getting close to where the ambush had taken place. And he knew he would recognize that tall stand of trees on the left, the ones illuminated by the headlights of the approaching pick-ups; the pick-ups carrying the Scobies, who had almost ended their lives that night.
Unaware, he cleared his throat softly but Mike heard the sound and turned to look at him. Almost simultaneously, they both felt the cruiser begin to slow, and they looked through the windshield.
Ahead of them, across the road and blocking all traffic, three very old pick-up trucks loomed into view. As the lead police car braked to a stop and the others followed suit, Mike turned to his partner and swallowed heavily.
Steve took off his dark glasses, staring wide-eyed through the windshield then looked at Mike. The older man closed his eyes and took a deep breath then turned once more to face forward.
They both recognized the trucks; they belonged to the Caudills.