Part Five
"Peter! How nice to see you again. Come on in," Virginia Li said, her dark brown eyes wary as she motioned for the young man to enter. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she would have looked at home in a crowd of teenagers in his father's Chinatown neighborhood. Peter had also seen her in a suit, and knew she was a force to be reckoned with in the real estate world.
He stepped in and smiled in greeting as she opened the front door wide. Behind her, the detective could hear shouting. From the noise level, there were either several children or two or three very loud ones running around in the back of the house. "Two days in a row though..." Virginia said uncertainly, "did you forget something last night?"
"Hi Virginia. No, I just need to talk to Sophie. Is she home yet?" Peter shook some stray snowflakes off his coat in the foyer and smiled easily at Sophie's mother.
The woman looked uncomfortable. "Well...no. I know we said we were going to ground her, but she had a project to finish after school."
Peter's heart sank. "At the computer lab? With Ayaas?"
Sophie's mother frowned. "Yes. How did you know that?"
"No reason," Peter lied unconvincingly. Several scenarios flashed through his mind, and he decided he needed more information from the kids before he shared any of his concerns with their parents. "Listen, I'm going to head over to the school. You want me to bring them home?"
"They were going to take the late bus, but if the school will let you, sure." She studied Peter's face and frowned. "Are you sure that nothing's wrong? Is Sophie in trouble?"
The detective shook his head. "Sophie hasn't done anything wrong...I just need to talk to her about something she and Ayaas told me yesterday."
Virginia's lips pressed into a thin line. "They are in trouble," she said, and with the unerring instinct of a mother went right to the source of the problem. "It's that silly detective agency thing, isn't it? Her father and I told her to stop. Ayaas' parents told him to stop. She promised me that they'd quit. What have they done?"
Peter hesitated. "Virginia, I don't know that they've done anything. I just want to talk to them."
Sophie's mother folded her arms across her chest. Her dark eyes flashed with anger. "I knew it. There *is* something wrong! You go get her Peter, and bring her home. I am going to have a little discussion with my daughter, and then she's going to be locked in her room until she's thirty!"
"Virginia..."
"What are you waiting for?" Virginia Li snapped. She looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen, where the shouts had become much louder, and were accompanied by the worrying sound of water falling over a distance. "Go get her...them. I'd go, but Ben has the Tyler twins over for the afternoon, and their mother is late, and I don't have enough car seats to bring all of them. Go!"
"I'll be back shortly," Peter promised, amazed at the transformation from pleasant suburban mom to avenging mother. "Don't worry, Virginia. I'm sure it's nothing." In the back of his mind though, something told him that this sentiment was wishful thinking.
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There were few cars in the parking lot. Peter walked up to the front door, where a large sign proclaimed 'All Visitors MUST report to the front office.' Ignoring the words, he passed the front office and walked towards the center of the building. Fortunately, he had visited the school before, and knew the layout.
The computer lab was in the center of the building, attached to the library. The door was closed and the lights out as Peter entered quietly, alert for any indication of sound or movement. His glance took in the computers set up around the room, and the lack of people. None of the machines were on. Everything looked in order. A closed door on the other side led to the teacher's office. Crossing the room in a few quick steps, Peter opened the door.
The workspace was neat...and empty. Entering the office, Peter checked behind the desk and in the tiny coat closet. Nothing. Turning to leave, he saw a glimpse of purple behind the open door. In one motion, he closed the door and bent down to pick up the backpack behind it. He swore as he recognized the initials on the bag: SCL. "Sophie."
The knapsack held only schoolbooks and supplies. He almost missed the tiny notebook, labeled "S & A Detective Agency" which was tucked into a side pocket. Leafing through the small book, Peter caught the two papers that slipped out. A printout of computer files, and half a fifty-dollar bill. "Shit," Peter said under his breath. He tucked them back into the notebook and put it into his coat pocket. He zipped the bag closed.
"So where are you?" he muttered, eyeing the office with a detective's eye. There was a phone on the desk, the receiver not quite in the cradle. With a sudden surge of hope, he pressed the redial button, and listened as his own voice came over the line. "This is Peter Caine. Leave a message." Quickly, the young cop punched in the code that allowed him to access his messages. Impatiently he waited through two hang up calls, a message from his cleaning lady, and someone who wanted him to buy the local paper. Then Sophie's hushed voice came on.
"Peter? Me and Ayaas are at school. I know you told us not to, but we have a plan to find out who the counterfeiters are. We know when they did it, and we're hoping to see who comes to the lab today. Can you meet us at my house tonight? We need to show you..." The girl's voice stopped as the sound of voices came in the background. "Peter, I think I'm in trouble..." she whispered. Further noise suggested the phone was dropped, then there was a scraping sound. Then a beep as Peter's answering machine reached the end of the allotted time for messages.
Peter swore, his eyes searching the office once again. "What happened to you two?"
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Part Six
Peter dialed Kermit's number at the precinct. He wasn't quite sure how Kermit rated his own direct line, but it didn't pay to question the ex-mercenary's methods. If fact, his acceptance of its existence was probably the reason he had been gifted with the number.
"Griffin."
"Kermit, it's Peter. Listen, did I get any messages there today?"
There was a heavy sigh at the other end of the line. "Peter, do I look like your answering service?" was the none-too-patient reply.
Despite the situation, Peter couldn't help the quick grin that crossed his face. "You know you don't. But I'm afraid something happened to Sophie and Ayaas, and I'm hoping they called there. Would you ask Broderick and check my desk? "
There was a dark silence from the other end for the space of several heartbeats, before Kermit answered. "Wait a minute."
The phone was put down on a hard surface with extreme care. The sound of someone walking away came clearly through the receiver. Peter waited impatiently, his eyes roaming around the office and the classroom beyond. In less than a minute, Kermit was back. "Peter?"
"Yeah?"
"No messages at all. Some kid called for you, but said he'd leave a message at your home. Broderick couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. That help at all?"
Peter swore. "No." After only a moment's hesitation, he decided to share his concern with his friend. "Kermit, the kids were supposed to be at school, but I haven't found them. I DID find Sophie's knapsack in the computer lab office. Inside was a counterfeit bill. The kids are nowhere in sight, and she left a message on my machine at home that doesn't sound good at all."
"You calling it in?"
"Calling what it? I don't have anything except two curious kids who lost a knapsack and may be letting their imaginations run away with them." Frustration filled the young detective's voice. If there had been anything kickable within range, it would have gone flying.
Kermit's voice was steady and strangely comforting. "Peter, obviously you think something's going on, and I tend to agree with you. You also have a printout and half a bill. Those kids are a handful, but they're not stupid. What are you going to do?"
Peter took a deep breath, and tried to look at the problem logically. "I'll see if I can find anything else. Can you find out whatever you can about who's in charge of the computer lab here? And maybe look up a kid..." Peter searched his memory, but the name eluded him. With a wordless growl of disgust, he continued with the name he did remember, "Mari Lurie's big brother. He's in high school...Steve or Stan or Sam...something like that. The kids thought he was involved."
"Can do. You want me to come out there?"
"Give me an hour; I'll call you when I get back to Virginia's. If the kids aren't home, we'll put out an APB and take it from there. Thanks Kermit."
"Just remember this next time I ask you for a favor."
"Kermit, you don't ask for favors."
There was a chuckle from the other end. "Then I guess when I do, you'll owe me big."
Feeling more hopeful, Peter hung up the phone, then dialed his home and listened to the message on the answering machine again, paying particular attention to the background noises. That scraping sound...looking around the room, the detective tried to see what could have made the noise. His eyes stopped on the window. It was tiny, but both Ayaas and Sophie could be small enough to fit through it. Peter crossed the room and opened the window. Cold wind blew in, sending a chill through the young man.
There were some scratches across the sill-possibly the kind a kid might make pulling himself or herself through. And the ground was less than a five-foot drop. Peter tried to stick his body through the small space, but his shoulders were too broad. With an impatient mutter, he pulled back, shut the window and turned, planning to go check for anything outside.
Two men filled the doorway.
The taller of the two was standing in front. He was probably in his late thirties, powerfully built. Peter didn't often have to look up at others, but this man was taller than him, and built like a linebacker. Blond hair was neatly arranged in an expensive haircut. He looked down uncertainly at his unexpected visitor. The second figure was half hidden behind his bulk; Peter had the fleeting impression of someone with dark hair, shorter but just as burly.
"Hi," Peter said, trying to look less like a cop and more like a confused parent. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing in here. I was supposed to pick up my...niece, Sophie here. Have you seen her? Are you her teacher?" Walking towards the door, he stuck out a friendly hand.
From behind the two men, an attractive woman stepped out, holding out her hand with an air of relief. "Yes I am..." she started, when the shorter man moved pushed in front of her.
"Did you expect to find this kid in the office?" he asked, his tone hostile. Every part of his body radiated anger and suspicion. If he had been a suspect, the detective would have arrested him on the spot. Since he still had no clue as to what was going on, or where his young friends were, he kept up the act.
"No," Peter said easily. He motioned towards the desk. "But I did see the phone in here, and decided to call her mother, to see if Sophie ended up at home."
"Sophie's your niece?" the woman asked, her voice cool. From her assessing glance, Peter was sure that she did know the girl. Peter knew that most people couldn't see his Asian heritage...perhaps being her uncle hadn't been the best cover story.
"She is. Uh, wasn't she here this afternoon?"
"She never showed up," the truculent man said, his voice firm. He stared at the cop. "She must have gone home."
Peter was sure that the three people in front of him had something to do with his young friend's mysterious absence...but confronting them here, in the school, would do no good. He had to let them go...so that they could lead him to Sophie and Ayaas. "Yeah, I guess she must have. Thanks for your help Mrs..."
"Catherine Wilcox," the woman said, holding out her hand again. She motioned to the silent, taller man. "This is my husband, Bob. And my friend is Mr. uh, Smith."
Peter automatically took Bob Wilcox's offered hand, as 'Mr. uh-Smith' moved past him and into the office. "Thanks. If you see my niece, please have her call home."
"Don't you want to give her this?" Smith asked, his voice grating. Peter turned to look; his heart sank at the sight of the purple backpack dangling from the man's left hand. In his right hand, he held a gun.
Instincts kicked in as Peter yanked away. There was barely room for any kind of move...and his arms were awkwardly placed due to the handshake, which had tightened into a firm hold. He raised his leg for a sidekick. Wilcox, grasping his hand tightly, recovered from the shock and pulled one way, Peter pulled the other. Smith reached out and hooked one foot around the detective's anchor leg, and pulled it out from under him. Both struggling figures staggered, falling to the ground, Wilcox on top.
Peter's air left his lungs in a rush. Smith calmly stepped on the detective's left arm as his partner tightened his grip on the younger man. Peter winced. At the very least, this guy had had some training as a wrestler.
"Who is he?" the teacher asked, watching as her husband kept Peter pinned with his greater weight.
"Not the girl's uncle," Smith said, his eyes narrowed. Professionally, he patted Peter down. He stopped when he got to the detective's gun. "Nice weapon," he commented, tucking it into his waistband. "Let's see if there's anything that goes with it." He found the detective's badge in his coat pocket, and snorted. "He's a cop."
The taller man looked upset. "But then why would he be here? Sophie said she didn't tell anyone... He can't possibly know about the fake money..."
"Shut up, Bob!" Catherine Wilcox snapped, glaring at Peter, still struggling to regain his breath. Her husband's mouth closed with an audible snap. All three looked at the young man.
Peter winced as Wilcox resettled his weight, leaning an arm against his throat. "No, go on," he wheezed. "Where is Sophie?" A tiny flutter of hope built in his gut. He hadn't missed that there had been no mention of Ayaas. He moved his eyes, since his body wasn't going anywhere, to focus on the woman. "Your husband's not too bright, is he? If I hadn't already known about the money, he would have given it away just then."
Wilcox pushed against his already bruised windpipe. "Are you really the girl's uncle?"
"More importantly, did you tell anyone that you were coming here?" the woman asked, bending over to stare at the detective's face.
Peter ignored the man's question. "I told my entire precinct," he gasped out, black spots appearing in front of his eyes as he answered the teacher.
Smith smiled. "Oh, I doubt that. I think you followed a little girl's clues on the spur of the moment. Unless...." Thoughtfully, he studied the two men on the ground. "Get him up Bob."
"What are we going to do with him?" Wilcox asked, easing off the detective's body. He got to his feet, and reaching down, pulled the still gasping Peter into an armlock. The detective tensed, ready to break the grip. He was distracted by the sense of another person's approach. He looked past Smith, watching to see if the door opened. It didn't.
Smith smiled slowly, a carnivore's grimace. "No one knows where he is."
"Where's Sophie?" Peter asked, his eyes meeting Catherine's. "All I care about is finding her and getting her home." He tried to split his attention between talking to his captors and finding the person he felt nearby.
Smith pressed his lips together in an angry line. "Well, we might be able to handle half of that problem." With a nod he motioned for the teacher to take the gun. "Keep an eye on him," he said.
Licking his lips, Bob Wilcox eased his grip and grabbed the gun before his wife could, his hand shaking slightly. "What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice uneven.
"Take care of our visitor," Smith said, circling behind Peter, his hand moving into his coat. All the detective's attention snapped to the immediate threat, and he moved with Smith, keeping what he thought to be the greater danger in sight. It was a mistake.
"Now!" Smith ordered.
There was a blaze of sudden pain, and Peter Caine's world went dark.
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Part Seven
Kermit looked at his watch. It had been an hour and five minutes since Peter's call. With a sigh, Kermit picked up the phone. First he tried Peter's cell phone, but got the message that the phone was either off or out of range. Scowling, he dialed Virginia Li's number. Although they had met several times, they were more acquaintances than friends.
"Hello?" Sophie's mother picked up on the first ring. Not a good sign.
"Virginia? This is Kermit Griffin. Is Peter Caine there?"
"Detective Griffin. No, No, he's not." Sophie's mother sounded anxious. "He was going to school to talk to Sophie and Ayaas. Peter was going to bring the kids home, but..." the woman broke off. The tone of her voice rose. "They really should have been home by now. And even if the school wouldn't let her leave with him, well, the late bus just dropped off kids ten minutes ago, and Sophie wasn't on it."
Behind his glasses, Kermit rubbed at his eyes. "Virginia, sit tight. If Peter and Sophie do show up, have Peter call me." He paused, rethinking that statement. "If you hear anything, call me on my cell phone." He gave the woman the number. "I'll be on my way there."
"What is going on?"
"It'll be easier to explain in person. Can you call Ayaas's house, and make sure they're not over there?"
"You're scaring me," Virginia said, her breath catching in her throat. "I'm going over to the school."
"No!" Kermit said sharply. "I'll be there in less than half an hour. If there's anything that can be done at the school, Peter is doing it. Sit tight. They may walk in your front door in the next five minutes." He didn't believe it, but he needed the woman to stay calm.
He heard her take a tremulous breath. "Right. They could have had car trouble or hit traffic or something...."
"Sit tight," Kermit repeated. "You have my phone number. Call me if you hear anything." He hung up and opened his filing cabinet. Pulling out the Desert Eagle, he tucked it into its resting place. "Paul, if I had known what a hassle watching the kid was going to be..." Cursing under his breath, he picked up his coat.
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To Parts 8-10