It took the better part of the day before a file from R&I finally made its way up to the bullpen, its contents barely filling two pages of paper.

Per usual, it had been delivered to Mike's office and Steve got out of his chair to join the Lieutenant before the clerk even had a chance to wish them a good rest of their day.

Subconsciously holding his breath, he watched his partner reach for the black-rimmed reading glasses sitting to the right of his desk, then slowly open the file and begin reading.

When nothing was said for an agonizing few seconds, Steve walked over to look past Mike's shoulder at the few pieces of viable information that had been found on their suspect.

"Says here that Warren Thompson still lives in Mississippi. He is married to his wife of forty-two years and has two children.", Mike read out loud, his curious eyes scanning through the boxes that were filled with information.

"And he did work for the local police department in Taylor, which is just south of Oxford…", Steve added and pointed his finger at the note.

"Retired in '70. You were barely out of the academy then. That makes him now what…oh…sixty-nine years old? Maybe retirement has made him stir crazy and he decided to settle some old feuds?"

Despite his even tone, Steve could sense the skepticism in his partner's words. Trying to find any useful information that could support Joe's statement, he looked through the pages once more, remaining completely unmoving as he bent over Mike's desk.

As if to wait for him to make sense of the nondescript facts laid out in front of them, the lieutenant just sat there, quietly watching his pupil grow frustrated when their first stab in the dark yielded little worthwhile information.

No criminal record, not even a citation during his time on the force, no obvious signs of homicidal behavior to be found anywhere.

The man looking back at him from the DMV picture was well kempt, professional looking, his eyes showing the experience of many decades on the force.

"At least we established that he worked for a police department that likely was called to Oxford to assist with the protests…", Steve finally said and straighten out, running one hand through his wavy hair while massaging his stiff lower back with the other, "I can make a couple of phone calls tomorrow to be sure. Once I can place Thompson at the site of the protest, I think it's time I give him a call as well."

Mike didn't answer right away, never even acknowledging the remark. Instead, he rubbed chin, deeply focused on something that seemed to have set off an alarm bell. Eventually, he shook his head slowly, one hand resting on the open case file.

"You know the thing that bothers me about all of this?"

"What? Why he picked Joe? It could be a number of reasons really, I mean-"

Steve didn't get to finish his thoughts when Mike reached over to tap him on the chest.

"Not that part…", the lieutenant interrupted and gestured back at the DMV picture, "You. It bothers me that you can't remember the guy."

"Well, for what it's worth, I did spend quite a bit of time on the ground."

"Yeah, but you saw enough that you knew Joe was fighting those…those rogue cops and by his own account, Joe seems to think that you saw this…this Warren Thompson too, maybe even knew his name."

"I wouldn't interpret it quite like that. I think he just…you know…he figured I'd put two and two together. I saw him getting handcuffed and dragged away by several cops and a few of them were black but I just…things got a bit fuzzy."

"Fuzzy is right…", Mike sighed and closed the file before handing it over to his partner with a weary glance that said more than words ever could.

Ignoring the stubborn bellyache that hadn't left him since that fateful call for help, Steve nodded in appreciation before wandering back to his desk, keeping his fingers crossed that the people of San Francisco could hold off killing one another until he found some answers for his friend.