Return to Innocence

Part 23

Peter looked into the bathroom mirror. He hated wearing his dress blues. The only time he ever had them on seemed to be for the funeral of a fellow officer. He had worn them more times than he cared to remember over the past few years. This was the second time had worn them to bury a partner.

He took a deep breath and stepped back into the bedroom, holstering his gun and pushing his gloves into his pocket. Grabbing his car keys and hat, he left the apartment, dreading what this day would bring.

At 9:05, he pulled the Stealth in front of his father's residence, finding that the elder Caine was waiting on the street for him. His father wore his formal black tunic and pants. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The father joined the son in the front seat of the car. "Morning, Pop."

"Good morning, my son," Caine said, gazing into his child's eyes to determine his mood. "You are all right?" He asked, tilting his head.

"I'm just tired. I didn't sleep well last night." Peter pulled the Stealth into the street and made his way to the Hampton household.

"I understand. Perhaps I can give you something to help you sleep tonight."

Peter nodded, "If things go the way I expect them to, I'll probably need something." His voice sounded somewhat fatalistic.

"What is going to happen," his father pressed.

"The funeral," Peter answered, not wanting his father involved with the rest.

"Yes. I know that is upsetting, but there is more." It was not a question. Peter said nothing. "Peter, what is it that is bothering you?" His father was not going to let it drop.

Peter took a deep breath, "I'm going to try to convince my fellow officers on the Task Force to tell the truth about what happened. . .to change their story."

"Ah. That will be difficult," Caine nodded.

"Yes. It will be. But I may have some help. I just don't want to talk about it right now. I'll deal with it later."

"Why?"

"Because it seems. . .I don't know. . .like it's in poor taste. I mean, we're going to the funeral of my ex-partner. . .my friend, and I'm talking about trying to get the man who killed him off. I just don't want to deal with both things right now." Peter said firmly. Caine nodded, respecting his son's feelings.

Within minutes, the Stealth pulled up to the curb in front of the Hampton home. Peter caught sight of the Channel 3 News van parked across the street. Upon seeing the Stealth pull up, Sandra Mason hopped out of the front seat and ran across the street.

"Detective Caine, are you here to take the family to the church?" Peter ignored the question. Sandra persisted, knowing that sometimes a more direct approach was needed to get a news byte from Peter Caine. "I'm surprised you're welcome here." Peter stopped walking and closed his eyes, knowing where Sandra was going with this. "There are rumors that you have raised questions about the incident which took Michael Hampton's life. Do you care to respond?"

Peter took a deep breath and set out walking again, making his way to the driveway in front of the house. Sandra continued, "In fact, my sources say that you have alleged that the report filed on the incident with the District Attorney contains inaccuracies."

Peter felt his anger build. He started to turn on the reporter, but the firm hand of his father grabbed his shoulder and kept him walking to the house. Mason took two steps up the driveway to follow, when her cameraman pulled her backwards into the street. . ."Trespassing, remember?" was all he had to muttered. She spun on him angrily and made her way back to the van, muttering all the way.

Peter couldn't help the grin of satisfaction that came to his lips. He turned to his father and whispered, "Thanks, Pop." He reached to the side of the doorframe and rang the doorbell. Within seconds it opened.

Kathy stood in the foyer, wearing a simple black dress. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she smiled at the two, "Hi. Come on in. We're just getting things together."

She motioned them into the living room, "I have to take care of a few things. Make yourself comfortable," and then she left them.

The two Caines walked into the living room to find Kathy's father and another man sitting on the sofa. Kathy's father stood upon seeing the newcomers, as did the other man. Both men had cold, hard looks etched on their faces. Kathy's father spoke first, "I told Kathy it was a mistake having you here, but she wouldn't listen. . .told me to be polite. Out of love for my daughter, I will be. But nothing more." The words were grumbled and harsh. "I didn't introduce myself yesterday. I'm Stephen Graydon. . .Kathy's father. This is Arthur Hampton, Michael's father."

Peter extended a hand to Hampton. It was ignored. Clearly, Kathy's father had already taken it upon himself to fill in Hampton about Peter and Caine. "I'm Peter Caine, this is my father, Kwai Chang Caine. It's nice to meet you, Sir." Peter continued, trying not to let the rejection affect him.

"You were Mike's partner," the graying man mumbled.

"Yes." Peter answered succinctly.

"You were with him when he died," the father continued.

"Yes." Peter answered again.

"And yet, you want to help the man who killed him." The man pushed.

Peter did not respond immediately. Instead, he allowed a silence to develop, then he answered. "Kathy knows what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. And she knows that it is out of respect for Michael. . .for what he believed in. . .that I'm doing it. And I apologize, but now is not the time or place to be discussing this."

Kathy returned to the living room, followed by two older women and her young daugher. She turned to introduce the women, "Peter, Mr. Caine, this is my mother, Angela and my mother-in-law, Mary Ruth. The two woman nodded politely to the men, but were distant, as their husband's had been. Peter looked at the young girl who was hiding behind her mother's legs. "Hi Elizabeth. I’m Peter."

The girl peeked out shyly. "I remember you."

"You do?" Peter was surprised. The girl could not have been more than three at the time.

"Uh huh," she walked over to the fireplace mantel and pulled a picture down. She held it out to Peter. He took it in his hand and smiled. It was a picture of Peter and Michael, taken while they were partners, after a police league hockey game. Michael had his arm around Peter's shoulders. Peter was pointing a thumb at Michael. Remembering the incident, Peter nodded, "We each scored goals that game. "

She nodded, also smiling, "Daddy told me that. He said you were his friend. He said you and he had a lot of fun playing games together." Peter nodded, and then watched as the smile faded to a frown, "My Daddy's not coming home again. God took him away," she whispered.

"I know, Honey." Peter kneeled down on one knee as the girl approached him. "Mommy says that you tried to help Daddy." Peter bit his lip, wishing desperately that Elizabeth would stop speaking. Instead she took another step forward and was just inches from Peter, "I'm gonna miss him."

"Me too," Peter's voice cracked. He heard a stifled sob and glanced up to see Kathy dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

Elizabeth wiped at a tear that slid down her tiny cheek. Another one quickly took its place. Peter reached out and wiped the second tear. His touch sparked the little girl and the next thing he knew Elizabeth had thrown her small body into his arms, gripping him tightly around the neck. Peter brought his arms around her and pulled her close. Closing his eyes, he rested his chin on her shoulder, savoring the closeness.

End Part 23

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