*Part 7*
As Peter parked the Stealth around the corner from Holt Trucking, he decided to try the cell phone one more time. "Kermit, are you there?" he asked, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he checked his Baretta. He sighed with relief as the welcome sound of his friend's voice came over the phone line.
"Where else would I be?" Kermit asked. Peter could read tension in the flippant tone. "I have Blake tracing this line. Jody and Skalany are trying to find out more about the kidnapping. But why don't you tell me--where are you?"
"Holt Trucking. I got off the interstate at exit 67. Take a right off the exit."
"Caine!" Strenlich grabbed the phone from Kermit, ignoring the raised eyebrows. "You stay where you are! Wait for backup."
Peter took a deep breath. "Sorry Chief, that's not gonna happen. My father is in there. I gotta go." He ignored Strenlich's sputtering. "I'll leave the phone on in the Stealth. It's parked just around the corner from the warehouse. Don't take too long getting here." Peter pushed the phone under the driver's seat, ignoring the sounds coming from the receiver.
Striving for the innocent look of a pedestrian passing by, he casually walked down the street towards the trucking warehouse. There was no sign of anyone nearby; maybe this wasn't a neighborhood where people walked. Broken windows and padlocks on everything seemed to indicate that it was not very safe. He reached the fence for the warehouse, and after a quick glance around, tried the gate. It was locked. Peter sighed and grabbed the fence.
His breath hissed out as he landed with a quiet thud on the other side. Still no one appeared, which was suspicious in itself. Pulling the Baretta, he stealthily made his way into the first docking bay.
There was a yellow rental truck parked inside. The door was still open; Peter looked inside and saw nothing but empty space. He rolled under the truck when he heard noise coming from the other end of the warehouse.
Two burly bodyguard-types came into the docking bay; one talking in what he probably thought was a quiet voice.
"Why did Chan hire those idiots to do the job anyway? They don't seem very bright."
The other bodyguard answered. "They're smart enough to be on a plane out of here tonight. I'll say this for him; Chan's a quick thinker. They were never supposed to see who hired them. He arranged their trip because he thinks they're too stupid to keep quiet."
Peter was still stuck on the name.
"So all he's doing is sending them away? They saw him, plain as day."
"Not my problem," the first bodyguard said with a shrug. "We just have to see if we can find the priest's son. I wouldn't mind catching a cop. Chan's sure he's out here."
"I don't see anyone," one of them said.
Peter stayed still as the options ran through his head. He could attack these two, and go back to surprise Chan, but he had no idea where Chan was, or how many other men were with him, guarding their prisoners. He could do nothing and wait for backup. Or he could follow these two and play it by ear.
Peter made himself as small as possible under the truck and watched the two men separate to search the warehouse. He knew he had lost his chance to find a better hiding place; one of the men would see him if he moved.
As they came back together in the center of the room, they seemed to notice the truck. "Hey, did you look inside the rental?" one asked.
"Nope," the other answered, "Seemed like a stupid place to hide."
"So maybe a cop would think it was the best place," the first man said slowly.
Peter heard the heavy footsteps as the two men approached the truck. His eyes darted around, searching frantically for a hiding place. Nothing came to mind until he looked up. With a short prayer, Peter pulled himself up and flattened against the underside of the truck. It was dirty and hot, smelling of oil and asphalt. Peter closed his eyes, as if that would make him harder to see. He felt the vehicle shake as the doors were opened and closed. He could hear their breathing; they were so close to him.
"Nothing," one man said with disgust. "Let's get back there and tell Chan."
Peter waited as they walked back towards the door in the far wall. Then he followed.
**************
Part 8
Sophie stared up at the features she knew so well; twisted into an expression she had never seen. "What are you doing?" she repeated softly. She watched as her uncle looked at her and really saw who was standing in front of him.
"Sophie?" Her uncle looked down at her, his face going blank with shock. "You're not supposed to be here..."
He stared at her for a moment, then pulled he together. "Take her to the office," he said, pointing at Sophie. The man standing with him moved to obey. The memory of kidnapping at the library and the trip in the back of the truck ran through Sophie's mind. She looked at the faces of her friends and slipped from the bodyguard's grasp, running to Caine.
She threw her arms around his waist and turned to face her uncle. "No," she said firmly. "No, I won't leave my friends." She felt the warm hand of the priest rest on her shoulder... and the urge to burst into tears stopped. Her friends clustered behind her and Jessie rested her hand on Sophie's other shoulder.
Chan stared at the defiant little face and felt his heart crumble. Ever since he had been told the location of the kidnapping...he had been so careful...planned for everything. His sister had promised to be at a family celebration. "Why aren't you at your cousin's birthday party?" he asked, looking at a point over her head.
"Momma said I didn't have to go. I wanted to hear what was happening in the story. I wanted to be with my friends. I was supposed to go to Christina's afterward for a sleepover." She glared up at her uncle, willing him to see how important this was to her.
Chan looked over the other children, seeing, for the first time, the faces of his niece's friends. Each one an individual, with families and names and friends. Suddenly, his mouth was dry, his head ached. The kids looked from him to Sophie. The silence grew.
Ayaas finally broke it. "He's really your uncle?"
Sophie nodded, looking down at the ground. She sniffed.
"It's okay," Ayaas said, with a sympathetic nod, "My father says we can't always choose our relatives."
Instinctively, the children gathered closer to Sophie, to comfort her. Christina patted her on the back. "My cousin was arrested last year."
"My sister got caught shoplifting," Mathew whispered.
"I have an uncle who almost went to jail," Ayaas added, pushing Mathew away to stand beside Sophie.
"SHUT UP!"
The group turned to stare at Sophie's red-faced uncle. He was rubbing the back of his neck, as if something there hurt. He wouldn't...quite...look at them.
"Chan," Caine said softly, "You must let these children go."
Chan laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "Believe me, I would like nothing better." He looked away from the somber gaze of the priest.
"Then do so." Caine pressed. "They are innocents, and should not be used this way."
Chan shook his head. "You know me, Caine," he said, aiming a crooked grin at the older man, "I'm never the one running the show. I just organize it."
The priest tilted his head. "Who is...running the show?"
"Can't tell you that." Chan said, for the first time regretting that fact. He motioned the bodyguard to leave the room. He followed, stopping in the doorway. One last chance... "Sophie?"
The little girl shook her head, lips trembling. "I won't leave my friends."
Chan sighed. He looked at Caine. "You will be kept here until we receive the ransom. This room is escape-proof...you can't get out from inside it." His voice seemed oddly intent. He raised one eyebrow and studied the older man. "Do you understand?"
"Yes." The priest inclined his head. He had heard more than the words spoken.
"Good." After one last, lingering look at his niece, Chan joined the waiting bodyguard, slamming the door behind him.
Sophie's tears overflowed. "Oh honey," Jessie said, kneeling and taking the little girl into her arms. The other children came around, some of them looking like they might cry too. Jessie looked up at Caine. He touched Sophie's cheek as he knelt beside the two.
"It will be all right. Your uncle will help us." Sophie looked doubtful.
So did Jessie. "Did I miss something?" she asked. "Her uncle certainly didn't sound like he was going to help us."
"Perhaps," Caine answered absently. He returned to his feet and looked at the other children. Christina, John and Anthony were still wearing the schoolbags they had not yet taken off when the kidnapping occurred. "What do you children have in your back...packs?" he asked.
Looking surprised, John shrugged. "School stuff," he said. He wiggled around until he got the bag off, then dumped it out on the floor. Christina and Anthony followed suit. Books tumbled out, followed by corrected tests and school supplies-pencils, erasers, glue, along with much unidentifiable "stuff".
Caine poked through the pile, looking for something. The children watched curiously. "Ah!" he exclaimed with delight, holding up a small kit with four containers of paint.
"That's for a poster I have to make." Anthony said.
"Now, it is to guard our privacy." Caine uncovered one container and with a finger, smeared green paint thickly across the mirror. He had no doubt that the 'mirror' allowed someone to watch them.
"Cool!" Ayaas said approvingly. "Can I do that too?"
"Yes." The priest handed the paint to the boy, then motioned to the other children. "Cover the entire surface." He smiled slightly as the children enthusiastically set to work; even Sophie sniffed in a few last tears and joined in.
Jessie touched his arm, drawing his attention. "What was that, at the end?" she asked, lowering her voice so the children wouldn't hear. "Chan sounded like he was trying to tell you something."
"I believe he was." Caine said. Absentmindedly, he began picking up the supplies and repacking the children's bags. "There is no way out of the room from inside; but there is a way from outside. My son is close. He will find us and we can get the children out."
"What do you mean, your son is close?" Jessie asked with confusion.
"He was at the library...He followed as we came here," Caine explained. "He is in the building now." He watched as John giggled at Christina's painting technique, which seemed to include a great deal of paint ending up in her hair.
Jessie ignored the children and put a hand on Caine's arm. "What good will it do? That man said that we can't escape from this room."
"No," Caine corrected gently. "Chan said that the room is escape-proof, and that we could not get out from inside. What he did not say is that we can get out with help from outside. He knows, as do I, that Peter will come for us."
Jessie looked puzzled as she worked this out. Caine took that opportunity to examine the door through which they had entered the room. Placing his hands flat against the surface, he closed his eyes and tried to reach out to his son. Instead, he felt something unusual in the door itself.
"What is it?" Jessie asked, watching a slight frown cross his face.
"There is a...signal...on this door. If it is opened, an alarm rings elsewhere in the building."
"Even if it's opened from the outside?"
"Yes." Caine walked past the children to the other door. Jessie followed him, looking on as he repeated the procedure.
"Well?" Jessie asked impatiently. Although she thought of herself as a practical person, there was some quality about this man that made her believe that he could do the impossible. "Is this one monitored too?"
Caine ignored her question, leaning his head against the door. There was a feeling of...richness, of opulence on the other side of this door, a distinct contrast to the shabby concrete cinder blocks and graffiti of the room they were in. No one was in the room on the other side, although there was a sense of emptiness, as if someone had just left. Unlike with Chan, the presence did not feel familiar, yet Caine could not quite put aside the feeling that he had some connection to the occupant. Although the door was locked, there were no sensors on it. When the time came, he would be able to unlock the door quite easily. Leaving the building would be another matter.
*************
*Part 9*
Peter followed the two men to a long corridor. He had to wait until they turned a corner before walking softly where they had been, gun in hand. He had a brief moment of panic when he turned a corner and saw no one, but in a quick glance around, he saw a door click shut. Peter cautiously approached the door and put his ear to it.
He could hear no words, just the rise and fall of voices. They suddenly got louder as whoever was talking came towards Peter. On silent feet, he ran and ducked into a doorway further down the corridor. A silent twist of the knob revealed that the door itself was locked, so Peter flattened himself against the door and remained as still as possible; hoping that the bodyguards weren't coming this way.
They didn't. Peter heard them leaving in the opposite direction. He was about to follow again when he felt a familiar presence behind him. "Pop?" Peter called softly, turning towards the door.
There was a pause, followed by some excited squeaks, then Peter heard his father's voice coming clearly through the door. "Peter? You must go to the other door."
He felt rather than heard his father sigh. "Peter, I am fine, the children are fine. We are all here. Yes, I could do the...lock thing. But this door is...monitored by our captors. They will know immediately when it is opened. The other door to this room is not monitored, but it is on the opposite wall. I cannot arrange our escape and defend the children. You must help me."
Peter stopped, mouth open, slightly surprised that his father needed his help. "How do you know all that? Never mind," he said, with a quick headshake, "I don't want to know. Do you have any idea how I get to the other door?"
"I do not, but I have no doubt that you will find it. You must come quickly, I believe that there is not much time."
Peter eyed the door, wishing he could see his father's face. "There never is," he muttered. "How many guards have you seen?"
"Three, and Chan. However, there is at least one other involved"
"Okay, hold on Pop, I'll be there in a bit." Peter patted the door, knowing his father would pick up on the emotion behind it, and set off down the corridor. He tried every door that he passed, but all were locked. At the end of the corridor, he turned left, following the wall. There was a set of double doors at the end.
Peter stopped at the doors and cautiously walked through the one on the left. It was like walking into another world. Left behind was the dingy warehouse corridor of unpainted cinder blocks-this hallway was painted a rich red; original artwork hung every few feet. Several stands held fresh flowers. It shared one characteristic with the corridor he had left behind--there was no one around.
He walked down the hallway, counting paces. He did not try the doors in this hallway, it was far too likely that there were people behind those doors; people who either knew exactly what was going on, or people who would get hurt if he dragged them into this mess. Either way, he didn't want to encounter anyone.
Finally, he reached two doors. His sense of direction told him that one of these doors led to the room where his father and the children were.
Wishing that he had Kermit at his back, he opened the door and walked in.
**************
*Part 10*
Kermit slammed the door of the unmarked cruiser and stalked over to Peter's Stealth. Pulling out a set of keys, he opened the driver's door, he reached under the seat and pulled out Peter's cellular. "Great," he growled, "Not only does the kid not have backup, he has no way to call us if he's in trouble."
Strenlich scowled. "The black and whites should be here in a few minutes. Let's locate the trucking company and see if we can find Peter or those kids before all hell breaks loose."
"Remember, we're talking about Peter here." Kermit commented dryly as he led the way down the street. Like Peter, the two cops checked out the neighborhood and noted the shabbiness and neglect.
"Hard to believe that one of the ritzier business districts in the city is only a block away," Strenlich said as he looked at the glass from one more broken window littering the sidewalk.
Kermit snorted. "Why? Elaborate facades usually hide the seamier undersides of life. I find it harder to believe that Chinatown is only a block in the other direction."
Frank shook his head. "Kermit, you are the most...." His words stopped abruptly as he grabbed the detectives sleeve.
"Hands off, Chief." Kermit said, pulling away. His eyes were already focusing on the scene that held Strenlich's attention. "My, my, my. Old friends really do show up in the most interesting places."
Their "old friend" Chan, last seen over a year ago, was talking to two men in a black car. It looked like they were having an argument. Chan had one arm resting on the top of the car; the other was tucked in the front pocket of his jacket. The two detectives could barely make out the faces of the men in the BMW, but what little they saw looked unhappy.
"So, how do we play this, Chief?" Kermit asked, committing the plate number to memory. His hand touched the gun under his jacket.
"Let's wait a minute and see what happens," Strenlich said. "If we have to go through them to get to Peter and the kids, we will...but until we know where they are, we need to be careful."
************************************************
*Part 11*
The children were restless.
"Why don't we sit in the corner, and I'll read to you." Jessie suggested, trying to sound cheerful.
"We don't have any books," Christina reminded her.
"Yes we do," Ayaas said. He walked over to the pile of school materials from the backpacks and pulled out three books. He carried them to Jessie and handed them over.
Jessie looked at the covers. Although she had been hoping for something to distract the children, the selection left much to be desired--a book in the latest horror series, a story about a boy who was kidnapped by his father, and a preteen romance. "Um...maybe I could tell you a story," she said, closing her eyes and trying to think of one in her repertoire that was light-hearted.
"We will have...no need for a story," Caine stated, rescuing her from her predicament. "Children, you must listen to me." He motioned for them to gather around him. They did, wide-eyed and expectant.
"Are we escaping now?" Ayaas asked eagerly.
"We are." Caine said. He waited as Jessie hushed the children's cheers. When they were quieted, he started again.
"My son, Peter, is a...cop. He will be here in a few moments." Caine looked sternly at the children. "You must do exactly as he says. You must also be very silent. We do not want to...attract attention. Can you do that?" He smiled slightly at the eager nods. Only Christina opened her mouth to say something, but Anthony nudged her with his elbow and she stopped.
"Good." Caine said, with a nod to Anthony, who ducked his head and grinned. Christina made a face, but remained silent. "Very good," the priest said, raising one eyebrow.
Peter's whisper outside their entrance to the room raised only a few excited squeals, quieted quickly with a glance from Jessie. When Caine told him to go around to the other door, the children were quiet.
The wait seemed endless. Ayaas appointed himself organizer and paired the other children up. "Partners stick together," he told Caine, who was watching him silently. "And help each other. We may need to help each other." With a quick grin, he placed himself last in line beside Sophie. They waited patiently.
***************************
Peter stepped into an office. A thick oriental carpet muffled the sound of his footsteps. Dark mahogany furniture filled the room. An enormous desk took up half the space, with very little on it-only a small stack of folders and two picture frames, the backs to Peter.
Although the door to free his father was right in front of him, curiosity and his detective instincts took over. Peter picked up one of the pictures and turned it around. "Oh, shit," he breathed as he looked at the face smiling up at him.
~~ flashback ~~
Peter used the handcuffs, locking the burly man's hands behind his back. He took a deep breath and started the Miranda warning. "You have the right...." He glanced at the man's daughter as he continued to recite. Diana Pearce was watching her father's arrest, dry-eyed and speechless.
Finishing the warning, Peter pulled Avery Pearce towards the front door of his elegant home. Diana stood in the doorway. She moved silently aside as the two men came towards her.
"Wait," Pearce demanded. "I want to talk to my daughter." Peter paused, looking at Strenlich for confirmation. Peter had known the Chief for years as a family friend; this was the first time they had worked a case together. Frank shrugged, then nodded his assent.
"Diana..."
The teenager shook her head. "I don't want to hear it, Daddy," she said, her voice too level. "You were selling drugs to my friends. There's nothing you can say to make that okay." Her voice broke as tears started. "I never want to see you again."
Pain filled the man's eyes. "Diana, I'm sorry..." He shrugged off Peter's grasp and took a step towards his daughter.
"No!" She took two steps back. "Tell Teddy's parents you're sorry. Tell Mom you're sorry. But don't tell me. I don't care." She turned and walked away from her father, pausing at the staircase to the upper floor. "Goodbye, Daddy," she said, not looking at him. Peter watched as she ran up the stairs.
Avery Pearce dropped his head to his chest.
"Come on, Mr. Pearce," Peter said gently, placing his hand on the man's shoulder. He could almost feel sorry for him.
Pearce's head came up swiftly, his eyes glittering as he glared at Peter. "Detective Caine, I will never forget what you have done to my family." The cold rage in his low voice sent tendrils of ice down Peter's spine. "Never," the man repeated as he threw off Peter's hand and marched outside to the waiting cruiser.
~~end flashback~~
"Diana Pearce." Peter said, looking at the smiling young face. He picked up the second picture. In it, Diana, dressed in a riding outfit, was holding a trophy in one hand and had the other arm wrapped around her father. He was holding a horse by the reins and smiling down at her. They both looked happy. Both pictures had been taken prior to Avery's arrest.
Peter shook himself back to the present and carefully put the pictures back down. His father needed him, and so did a pack of innocent kids. If Avery Pearce was involved in this, he would put the puzzle pieces together after they were all safely out of the situation.
****************
*Part 12*
The children were lined up, two by two, with Jessie and his father in the front when Peter opened the door. "Pop!" he said, wrapping one long arm around his father's shoulders. He glanced quickly at the others, confirming that everyone was, in fact, all right.
"Peter." His father acknowledged him calmly. "The children are ready to go."
"Yeah, okay." Peter threw a distracted glance at the door across the room. "Are you sure we can't go that way, Pop? It's probably shorter."
"They will be listening for the alarm, Peter," his father said, with a frown. "We cannot."
With the look Peter had learned to interpret as 'your methods we will discuss later', the elder Caine led the children and Jessie past the door Peter still held ajar.
As they filed past the desk and towards the second door, the pictures caught Jessie's eye. "Diana?"
"You know this girl?" Peter asked, handing her the photo and frame, and urging her to keep moving.
"She worked for me at the Library... She and her mother disappeared about four years ago. Does she have anything to do with this?"
"I don't know. Look, we can talk about this later." Peter urged the woman to walk, staying between the first group of four children and the second. Maybe if anyone did happen to see them, they would figure it was a class visit or something.
He felt his father's relief as he sighted the exit and had just enough time to think they were all going to make it...when a door suddenly opened, separating Peter and the last four children from the rest of the group.
"Damn!" The man who opened the door was one of the bodyguards Peter had seen earlier. In such a close space, he couldn't shoot without risking a bullet hitting one of the children. Pushing the two kids in front of him away from the bodyguard, Peter kicked out at the man, shouting, "Get the kids out!" to his father and Jessie.
Kwai Chang Caine spared one glance behind him, then hurried the first group of four children towards the exit. Once the children were safe, he would return to Peter.
Jessie grabbed the hands of Anthony and Molly and pulled them towards the doors to freedom.
They might have been, except that the second bodyguard was right behind the first. He took in the situation at a glance and scooped up the last girl, placing one hand over her mouth just as she opened it to scream for help.
Peter took this in, dodging a vicious punch to his head. As he ducked, he stumbled over Ayaas, who was trying to help Sophie. Peter hit his head on the wall and fell heavily to the ground, the thick carpeting muffling the sound. Before he could jump back to his feet, the bodyguard was kneeling on his chest, a gun under his chin.
"Not a sound," he warned in a low growl. "Get up here, boy," he said, motioning to Ayaas, who was half under Peter. After one wistful look at the still swinging door of the exit, Ayaas did as he was told. The bodyguard grabbed one arm and moved the gun to the boy's temple. "Now, unless you want this kid to be six inches shorter, you'll come quietly."
Peter pushed himself to his feet. "I'll come quietly," he said, furious at himself for failing. "Just put that thing away," he said, motioning to the gun. As the man holding Sophie tucked her under one huge arm and covered Peter, the man with Ayaas placed his gun into a shoulder holster. Bending down, he picked up Peter's Baretta and tucked it into the back of his pants.
"Move," he said, motioning Peter towards the open door. Peter had just passed him on his way to the door when the man pulled out the Baretta and struck the detective. As Peter collapsed, unconscious, the last thing he heard was Sophie's shrill scream.
**************
*Part 13*
Caine led the children out of the building and onto a busy street. His eyes narrowed as he heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. "This way," he said, putting himself between the children and the building they had just left. He tried to move them along, but as soon as he convinced one child to walk, another would stop.
"But the others..." John said, looking back at the building they had just exited.
"I will return for them," the priest said firmly, feeling like a harassed shepherd trying to keep his flock in motion. Each child seemed determined to go his or her own way. "First, I must get you to safety."
"Wait!" Christina cried, pulling away from the group. "It's Jessie and Anthony and Molly. They're coming."
"Yes," Caine said, closing his eyes as he felt the pain of Peter hitting the wall. "We must go now. The sooner we reach safety, the sooner I can go back for..." He faltered as he sensed Peter's descent into unconsciousness.
"There were men..." Jessie gasped as she pulled her two charges up beside the other children. "Peter was fighting them..." She stopped as she saw the pain in the priest's eyes. "Go back for them, Caine," she urged. "I can get the kids away."
Caine hesitated momentarily, but then a large man came out of the building and started running towards the little group. "No. We must go. Now." He added emphatically, guiding the children in front of him.
They moved quickly as they traveled down the street. Jessie hesitated when Caine turned down a dark and gloomy alleyway, but her confidence in his abilities overcame her fear.
They came out of the alley on a dirty, abandoned street. No, not abandoned, Jessie noted as she saw a black car drive away, and two men walking towards them. She tried to shield the children behind her when the first man shouted.
"It is...all right," Caine stated, "They are friends of my son. Fellow...cops."
"Caine!" Strenlich shouted as they saw the familiar battered hat and brown coat. Kermit was beside him, counting heads, as they picked up the pace and approached the weary little group.
"Six kids, one woman and Caine." He said to Strenlich. "We're missing two kids, and Peter." He studied the group as they approached. The kids appeared to be fine-in fact, one or two looked like they were having the time of their life. The librarian looked tired and relieved. Caine looked...troubled.
"Peter and two children are still in the building," Caine said. "These children need to be cared for. I will go back for my son."
"Not without me you won't," Kermit growled.
Strenlich sighed loudly, but didn't contradict the detective. "Be careful," he warned. "I'll send units to..."
"The Palmer Building," Anthony supplied. "What? The name was on the front," he protested, as everyone looked at him.
Strenlich rubbed the back of his neck and repeated, "...the Palmer Building, as soon as I get back to the car. Meanwhile, I'll bring these guys down to the station. Good thing we brought my car and not Griffin's," he added to himself as he motioned for the majority of the group to follow him. Even though it would be difficult to fit six children and two adults into a late-model Chevrolet, it would have been impossible to fit them into a Corvair.
***********
Kermit studied Kwai Chang Caine's face as they trotted back down the alley. "Something's wrong, isn't it?" he asked. He wasn't exactly sure what made him think that, Caine's face was expressionless. Maybe it was something in his eyes...or maybe Kermit had used the same lack of expression himself too many times, allowing him to read Caine better than anyone.
In any case, it appeared he was right. Caine nodded once. "Peter is...unconscious. I cannot sense his presence. We must return to the...Palmer Building before they take him and the children elsewhere."
Kermit sucked in a breath. "You think they can get out of there without passing us?"
"I fear that there are many exits, and not all of them are easy to find. Peter may already be gone."
A breath of hope stirred the detective's thoughts. "You spent several hours with the two kids...can you feel them?"
Caine concentrated for a moment, then shook his head in defeat. "I do not know them well enough to be sure...but I fear they are no longer in this area."
*************