Shortly after Peter and Kermit had left the apothecary, Lo Si arrived, led by his curiosity. Caine fixed him tea as he filled him in on the latest developments. They sat and talked for a few minutes.

Caine suddenly rose from the table. "Lo Si, I must go. Now! Annie is in danger."

"Then we must go."

They stopped just long enough to pick up their medicine bags and headed for the stairs. At the entrance to the building, they met an older woman just getting out of a car.

Master Caine addressed her. "Ah, Mrs. Kwo. I regret that I must miss our appointment today. Is it possible for you to come tomorrow?"

Mrs. Kwo looked at the two men, and, remembering the haste with which they had exited the building, answered, "I will do so, Master. May I ask if you would allow my daughter and me to drive you to your destination?"

Masters Caine and Lo Si gratefully accepted the woman's invitation. Caine gave her daughter directions to the Blaisdell residence.

The place was crawling with police. Kermit's car was stopped in the street in front of the house. Kermit was nowhere to be seen; neither was Annie or Kelly.

One of the patrolmen stopped Mrs. Kwo's car, but recognized Caine and waved them on. Mrs. Kwo's daughter parked the car at Caine's request. The two women admitted they would not mind remaining until Master Caine was ready to leave.

Captain Simms, with Chief Strenlich right behind her, came over to him as soon as he had exited the car.

"Caine, I am glad to see you. We are needed inside."

"Captain, I came because Annie was in danger. Is she all right? Paul had asked me to look after her, and I felt her panic and came right over. Is Peter here?"

Simms spoke over her shoulder as she strode toward the house "No, he isn't. But there are dead bodies in the house. They look like repairmen."

Jody came up to the Captain then. "They're not repairmen. We looked for their ID and found none; but they were carrying semi-automatics. There haven't been any daylight break-ins like this in a long time; looks more like they were after Ms. Blaisdell and the girls."

With that, Carolyn drove up, parked behind Kermit's car, and bolted out-the very picture of a panicky mother. "What's going on? Where's Bobby?" she demanded, as she ran over to the group. Simms started to tell her about the shooting but Carolyn had not stopped talking.

"I spent the weekend here, since Todd was out of town, and had decided to stay here a few more days. So I went home to get some more clothes. Mom was asleep and Kelly was relaxing in her room so I stopped at the police station to see Pete. I stayed after he and Kermit left." She was breathless with concern, but couldn't seem to stop talking.

"Kermit called me there, knowing I was in his office, to ask a question. While he was talking to me on his cel phone, he saw the intruders here and asked me to send backup. He didn't tell me why, so I came right over. What is going on? And where is my son!" Her voice and body had been almost under control when she started, but, as she talked, she spoke more and more quickly and her arms waved more threateningly. The shocks she had endured within the last 8 hours were fast overwhelming her.

Caine started to reach for her, but Strenlich caught her first. He pulled her into a tight hug, as if she had been about to fall over. "Come on, Car, " he consoled in a quiet voice. "Keep it together. You're a big girl."

The group went into the house. Lo Si went with them, knowing he would be needed also.

***

Mary Margaret sped Peter to the Blaisdell residence. They had been talking to a woman in a distant neighborhood who had filed a complaint about frequent and odd traffic at a neighbor's house. The woman was hoping to have found a drug lord's lair. The two detectives had just finished explaining to her what they would do to investigate, when the call about shots fired was reported to them. They had left immediately.

As they approached and saw the police crime scene activity around the house, Peter came unglued. He had the door open and was out before Mary Margaret could bring the car to a full stop, reaching the house even faster than Kermit had. At least he didn't have to open the door.

However, when he bounded in, yelling Annie's name, two patrolmen grabbed him and pinned him to the wall. They only succeeded because his full attention was focused on listening for her answer. He tried to fight, but Captain Simms had placed the biggest and strongest men she could get, with orders to restrain him. He was not to go up the stairs.

Gradually, their words made sense through his panic. "You're too late, Detective. They've already moved her. Kelly is all right. We're terribly sorry about your loss."

***

He appeared to calm down, he stopped struggling, his captors relaxed their guard, and he was gone. Not upstairs; he had no desire to see where his foster mother, dearer now than his birth mother, had been gunned down. He didn't even think of Kelly; he needed to follow Annie's body, wherever it had been taken. The only thoughts in his mind were of dead bodies: first Paul's, now Annie's, then all those friends he had not been able to save. His thoughts began to spin from one person gone, through all those he had lost, and back to his birth mother and then to the temple fire and on. The spin tightened and accelerated, pulling his mind into chaos.

He made for the car he had arrived in, and then remembered that Mary Margaret would have the keys. He couldn't even run after the coroner's wagon! He banged his head on the steering wheel and left it there. Two deaths in less than 24 hours. This was too much! Despair reaching up from deep in his psyche took control and his hand reached for his gun.

"STOP!" His father's voice resounded in his head. "Peter! Do not do this!" And then another voice, with a bit of a grin in it. "All right, kid, what is it now?" The patently hallucinatory voice of his beloved foster father tore his soul. And his world fractured around him.

I'm lighter than air? Why am I floating? What's going on? He could see someone sitting in Mary Margaret's car, head still on the steering wheel, his gun hand dropped toward the floor. Himself. He was, there were, two of him…. What the…?

And there was Paul, healthier-looking than when he'd last seen him. "Paul? What is this? Where are we? Am I dead too? Where's Annie?"

"Calm down, Peter!" Yup, that's Paul, concerned but composed.

Paul's voice continued, reassuringly. "You are not dead, Peter. This is the Overworld. Hasn't your father talked to you about this?" The tone turned curious, "And why should Annie be here?"

"Oh, yeah, the Overworld. Just never got here this way before. She was just …, just… " Peter just could not say the words. He hung his head in sorrow.

"Peter, you were not told she was dead." And Lo Si was there, correcting Peter gently.

Peter started to disagree and the Ancient cut in, more firmly this time. "You were only told she had already been moved, yes?"

As the import of the words sank in, Peter lifted his head. The other two men saw the great sense of relief in the young man's face. Peter looked at Lo Si and grinned shyly and turned to Paul. The glow of relief dimmed immediately.

As Peter was gathering his wits to speak, Paul turned to Lo Si, bowed, and asked, "Will Master Caine also be joining us?"

Lo Si smiled and said, "I would not let him," and disappeared.

The remaining two men looked at each other, grinned slightly, and shrugged. Then Paul pulled Peter into a hug. "I missed you, son."

Peter left his head on his foster father's shoulder for a second, then pulled out of Paul's hug. He grabbed Paul by the arms and demanded tearfully, "Why were you gone so long? Why did you have to go anyhow? You were supposed to come back."

Paul put his hands on his foster son's shoulders, and said in a sad, quiet voice, "Oh, Peter. People die. You know that."

He stopped, realizing he sounded too parental and tried a different tack. "It was very hard for me to leave you and my girls …"

Peter broke in, angrily, "How could you leave Annie? She loves you so much."

Now Paul pulled away. He turned and spoke distractedly, to himself as much as to Peter. "How could I stay, when people I thought were my friends hated and feared me? How many more so-called friends were just waiting their turn to attack me? Or to attack my family?"

Peter came up and put his hand on Paul's arm. "We short-circuited the attempt to frame you, Paul. We could have stopped them all!"

Paul didn't look at Peter. "Yes, we did save me that time. But at what cost? One good friend is dead, and two good friends (or I thought they were good friends) are in prison. Suppose the next time, one of my 'good' friends attacks any one of you, my family? No, I had to leave."

Peter cut in, "Was it one of your 'good friends" that attacked Annie? So, what good did your leaving do?" The anger continued.

"Would my staying have prevented this attack? I don't know. Maybe I would have been killed at some point, and this attack still taken place, even if I had stayed."

He grabbed Peter and looked him straight in the eyes. "Peter, I'm too old to try to second-guess fate. I can only do, could only do, what I think is right."

He sighed and turned away again. "You think I ran away because I was hurt and angry? Like an animal crawls away to die? Well, maybe there was a bit of that feeling in me."

He came at Peter again, "If there was, it didn't last! Believe that, Peter! I did need to think, to clear my mind. And I almost thought I had been gone long enough, when this happened."

He shook his head in sorrow, then threw back his head and almost screamed, "Damn it! I wanted to come home!" He started to sob.

Peter hugged him again, closing his eyes and tightening his hold as he felt the other shake. The shaking increased.

The shaking got stronger and Peter opened his eyes. The steering column was not quite in focus, his head was still on the steering wheel, and Mary Margaret was asking him if he was all right.

He shook his head, as much to clear it as to give him time to think of an answer. "I'll live. At least until after I get the bastards…

"Move over, Peter. I'm taking you and your father home."

Peter, still dazed, did as he was told. Mary Margaret got in, as did his father, and she started to drive to Chinatown.

Caine redirected her toward Peter's place. "Peter's car is still at his home; we should go there first."

Mary Margaret obliged. She parked her car and waited while the other two went up to Peter's apartment.

Peter had been quiet, lost in his thoughts still, for the duration of the trip home. The other two were still worried about his utter calm.

Once in the apartment, Caine stood in front of his son, place one hand on either side of Peter's head, and looked up into his eyes. Slowly, he moved one hand and his focus to Peter's chest, as if verifying the heart was still beating. As a final gesture, he took his son's pulse, using the four fingers of his right hand.

Then he addressed his son. "You worried us all with that…episode at the Blaisdell house, my son. But I can see that the talk with Paul helped you. Your chi is much steadier and calmer."

"It still hurts, Father," the younger man was ignoring the tears that had begun to fall again.

"But it will not last forever, Peter; and it will ease eventually."

"Like Mother?"

"Yes, Peter, like Mother. I still mourn her, but the pain is no longer as great."

"I love you, Father." Peter pulled his father into a hug, and they held each other for a few minutes.

"Peter, would you like to come and stay with me for a few days? You should not be alone."

"I think I'll stay with Carolyn and Kelly tonight, Pop. They'll want their older brother there, especially since Todd is out of town. I'm sure he'll be back tomorrow, but tonight will be hard." As he spoke, he was packing the few things he'd need to stay at Carolyn's place.

His father gave him another, quick hug and turned to leave. "Mary Margaret is waiting."

His son stopped him at the door with one more question. "Father, did Grandfather know Paul, also?"

Kwai Chang opened the door and exited as he said, "I would not know."

***

Whispers somewhere in Sloanville-

"Where is he?"

"He's dead."

"You fucking idiot! I didn't want him dead. I wanted him here, so I could kill him. I had his family killed to hurt him."

"Well, then we both missed. Look at the paper! Your team got only the wife. And, from what this says, your team won't be working for anyone any more. They're dead, too."

"What? Let me see that. 'Detective Kermit Griffin, from the 101st Precinct, had come to pay his respects to the wife of an old friend. As he knocked on the door, he heard shots. He says that he drew his gun and entered the home. He found two men standing over the body of Mrs. Annie Blaisdell. When they aimed their guns at him, he shot both dead. When patrolmen arrived, in answer to his call, he searched the house and found Kelly Blaisdell, the youngest daughter…'"

"So, should we get the daughters?"

"Why? Papa's dead. Their death can't hurt him. The wife's death was wasted effort, too! Damn! Any chance Paul's death can be traced to you or us?"

"No way!"

"Okay, then we're clean. Too bad I couldn't have had my fun; but at least he's dead. I've got my revenge!"

***

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