Hello again fellow fan fiction afficionados,vburro08 here with the next installment of Michael's story. More action to follow in this chapter, as Michael continues to search for answers. Will they be what he expects? or will some unexpected twists pop up? only way to find out is to keep reading. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CATS AND DOGS. CATS AND DOGS AND THE CHARACTERS FROM THE MOVIE ARE THE PROPERTY OF WARNER BROS. HOME ENTERTAINMENT. I ONLY OWN MY OC'S, AND THEY MAY NOT BE USED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

For the next two months, Michael gave the case every moment he could spare. From questioning street sources, to reviewing camera footage from the night of the explosion, he did anything and everything he could to solve the mystery of Dr. Goldberg's death, and Sam's possible involvement. But it seemed as though every time he was close to a breakthrough, it would turn into nothing, and he was getting frustrated. One afternoon, he went to talk to Butch.

"It feels like I'm staring right at the answers, Butch, but for the life of me, I can't see what they are" he said one afternoon. "I know the feeling" Butch said. "Be patient, Michael. The answers will come at the right time". "I hope so" Michael said with a sigh. "They will" Butch reassured the depressed human. Just then, a car came barreling around the corner. Skidding to a stop, it's hood pointed at the bewildered duo, the car sat in the middle of the road. Sunlight glinting of the windows made it impossible to see who was driving.

Suddenly, the driver accelerated, heading straight at Michael and Butch. "LOOK OUT!" Michael yelled, shoving Butch out of the way, before jumping clear with inches to spare. His hands swept down for the revolvers he'd started wearing, and the guns came up spewing flame and lead. The rear windshield shattered and a side mirror broke off, but the driver was already too far to see. "You alright kid?" Butch asked. "Just fine" Michael answered. Feeding fresh cartridges into the empty chambers of his guns, he holstered them and turned to look at Butch. "Well, now we know we're on the right track" he stated. "How?" Butch asked. "We didn't get the license number, or even see who the driver was". "I didn't need to see the driver, just the car" Michael said, heading toward home at a jog. "Why's that?" Butch was clearly puzzled. "Because that car belongs to Sam Williams". "Your security guard?" Michael nodded, still jogging.