"You sure you don't want to take any tuna salad home with you, buddy boy?"
With a warm hand on his shoulder, Mike gently guided him back toward the front door, having enjoyed the lieutenant's company so much that he almost didn't want to leave.
But the night was getting late, and Steve knew that an early morning was waiting just a few hours way.
"I am fine, but thank you. I had some celery earlier."
"Celery? How can you call that dinner…?"
Spending some much-needed quality time with his best friend had been dinner enough as far as Steve was concerned.
Even though he'd protested heavily in the beginning; the case discussion with Mike had been incredibly helpful, steering him into a couple different directions he hadn't quite considered yet.
Neighbors. The very people who would be aware of the comings and goings surrounding a certain bar and could easily slip in and out of their house to commit the deed, doing so without raising any eyebrows.
Another angle were taxi drivers. It might have seemed far-fetched in the beginning, but the more he thought about it, the clearer it became that the amount of taxis coming and leaving to pick up patrons could be another attractive front to commit murder and then hide from sight. After all, nobody would consider a taxi out of place in that neighborhood.
Halfway throughout their discussion, Bernie had called to confirm that Amber had been raped, the deed done so violently that there was significant bruising on either side of her thighs.
The notion sent Mike into another tangent about the disturbing crimes against women committed lately, and his fear about the trend only growing worse.
At least they had a solid start into the next morning's research now, he reminded his partner, coaxing a certain lieutenant to finally get some much-needed rest. Despite a brief, but heavy protest, it was easy to see that he had tired significantly from their case work, his mind and body not quite ready to return to full duty.
With Mike's broken wrist shaking from exhaustion and his eyes beginning to droop shut, Steve had subtly noted that it was time for him to head home, catch a few hours of sleep and start fresh again tomorrow, hoping it would finally convince Mike to do the same.
"Is…Bobbie going to get here soon?", he asked as he put on his overcoat, the name beginning to give him the creeps.
And honestly, there'd been so little to go on when it came to tangible evidence as to why the guy was…off. But something wasn't right, no matter how many times Steve tried to convince himself otherwise.
Things like deceitfulness and fake smiles had a way of raising his suspicion and whether Bobbie Parker did it intentionally or not, every action, every word and facial expression had screamed of just that.
Of course, he trusted Mike's senses when it came to the other man but the lieutenant had just undergone a very traumatic event, resulting in life threatening injuries. Suffice to say, staying vigilant around Parker could very well be off his radar.
"I am surprised he hasn't come back yet.", Mike replied, then squeezed his shoulder one last time as he opened the front door, "I am sure he'll show in a bit. Drive careful on your way home and call me if you need anything tomorrow."
"You bet.", Steve said and shared a brief smile with the lieutenant before slowly making his way down the stairs, taking one careful step at a time. He didn't need to look back to know that Mike was watching him, making sure he'd arrive at the bottom in one piece.
By the time he reached the Porsche, Steve turned around one last time to wave at his best friend, relieved to see him step away from the window at last and hopefully get some rest.
Exhaling slowly and watching his breath rise into the brisk night air, he climbed into the driver's seat of the sports car and made a tight turn north, hoping to beat the dense evening traffic on the Embarcadero.
He'd barely crossed a few rows of cars when his eyes fell on a parked maroon Falcon facing south, motor running and headlights turned on. For just the fraction of a second, he looked over, alarmed to see Bobbie, who graced him with a brief nod.
With his skin crawling, Steve watched him pull out and drive up to Mike's house, where he parked the car and got out to walk up the stairs.
The young inspector didn't need his detective senses to wager that Bobbie had been sitting here for quite some time, waiting for him to leave before returning to Mike's residence.