Part 26
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He had gone back to his own apartment at the same time he returned to work. Even though he missed the regular contact with Annie and Paul, he found it easier to go home after work than feign sociability.
He told no one of the time he had dialed a familiar phone number and heard the recorded message, "We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in use." Or of the time he had let himself into an empty apartment, his footsteps echoing hollowly as he wandered from room to room. The worst was the time he had grabbed a woman's arm as he came up behind her on the street, thinking he recognized the figure.
One afternoon he left work and found himself sitting at his special place by the lake. He hadn't been there for a long time, mostly because the temperatures and his health hadn't allowed it. He watched the setting sun reflected in the undisturbed pool and thought of the times past when he had been able to sit and draw solace from being near the water. Water had always held a certain fascination for him.
He sat silently, realizing that the last time he had come here had been to ice skate so many months ago. He gathered pebbles in his hand and tossed them into the lake, watching the ripples starting so small and tight before widening and fading away into nothing. {Just like my life,} he thought despondently.
"Am I invited?"
Peter hung his head dejectedly. "I'm not very good company."
"Does that mean that I may stay?"
Peter shrugged uncaringly. "Suit yourself."
Caine lowered himself next to Peter in a singular fluid movement and sat without speaking.
They sat in silence for a time, and then, without saying a word, Peter leaned over and settled his head against his father's shoulder, closing his eyes tiredly. Strong and loving arms enveloped him, and he wondered at his own lack of response. {I've always cried so easily, and hated it. But now, when I hurt more than I ever have in my life, I feel only emptiness.}
"My son, what can I do to ease your pain?"
"Nothing, Dad. There's nothing anyone can do."
"Are you so sure that the situation is...hopeless?"
Peter spoke heavily. "There's times that I-I-I think it would be easier if Kacie had died. At least then I wouldn't keep remembering that it's my fault she left me." He laughed bitterly. "Left me, hell. I drove her away. You know what I said to her, Pop? I told her I didn't love her. I told her the only reason I'd ever said those words to her was to try to get her into bed with me." He pulled away and sat up, resting elbows on bent knees and laying his head on his arms. "She's out of my life, and I wake up every morning wondering how I can possibly face another day without her."
"But you will go on?" Caine eyed his son with concern.
"I don't know, Pop. I don't know if I even want to. Maybe I should just go searching for a new path. Then I wouldn't have to see the way you all look at me, when you think I don't notice. Sometimes I think it would have been better if I'd never been born."
A grip of iron pinched vise-like around his biceps, and the pain caused him to stare at his father. The look on the older man's face was a combination of fear, grief, and anger.
"Do not say that!" Caine snapped. "Do not EVER say that!" His voice was thick with anger. "It dishonors the memory of the mother who gave you life, and it breaks the heart of the father who lost you once!" He shook Peter's arm before releasing it and rising to his feet, turning and walking away.
"Pop?" Peter jumped to his feet and hurried to catch up with his father. "Pop?" He planted himself in Caine's path. "Wait."
Caine's eyes bored into Peter's. "When I believed you had died at the temple, I thought my world had ended. When I found you alive, it was like being reborn. To hear you speak of renouncing the gift of your life..." He shook his head sadly. "I can not bear to think of such a thing."
Peter's head dropped. "I'm sorry, Pop," he whispered. "My head is such a mess. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. No, Pop. It took us too long to find each other." He looked up again and forced a small sad smile. "Come on, Pop. Let's watch the sun set together."
Unknown to Peter, that very question was being debated in Captain Simms's office.
"You can't do it, Karen," Kermit stated flatly.
Simms rubbed her fingers over her eyes before wearily massaging her temples. "Kermit, I don't have a choice."
He pounded a fist on her desk with such force the accessories on it bounced. "The hell you don't! You're his captain. You don't have to do this!"
She glared at him angrily. "It's because I'm his captain that I HAVE to suspend him!"
Kermit's eyes blazed through his green lenses. "Why don't you just take out your gun and shoot him? It would be more humane," he sneered.
Drawing in her breath with a hiss, she snapped back, "I didn't deserve that."
"He doesn't deserve to be suspended. What's he done? He's only been on active duty a few weeks."
Simms sank back in her chair. "Kermit, can you honestly tell me that if you were caught in a crisis situation, you would feel absolutely certain you could depend on Caine to cover your back?"
Griffin remained stone-faced. "I can't believe you just asked that question."
"I'm not asking WOULD he, I'm asking COULD he? Is his judgment unclouded enough to make snap decisions? Are his reflexes quick enough to physically do what needs to be done?" She leaned forward and placed her palms on her desktop. "The Peter Caine we have now is maybe at fifty percent. Maybe, and you know it. I can't in all good conscience allow him to put his own life at risk or any other officer in my precinct by turning him loose on the streets."
"Then chain him to his desk."
"Kermit..."
He pulled off his sunglasses and carefully wiped them before setting them back in place. "Detective Griffin," he said coldly. "If you want to cut out what's left of Peter's heart, you have that power, Captain Simms. But I'll have no part of it."
"Or me?"
"I didn't say that. I think what you're about to do is wrong. You asked my opinion, and I gave it. If you don't want to know what I think, don't ask."
"He's got a choice."
"Oh, big choice. Go to a shrink or lose your job. We arrest people for tactics like this. It's called extortion."
Simms's face was white. "Anyone ever tell you you fight dirty?"
He smiled from the teeth out. "One of my best qualities."
She slowly rose to her feet. "I have to do what I think is best, Kermit, and in this situation it's to see he's not a danger to himself or anyone else. He either gets help or he gets out."
"Will there be anything else, Captain? My corneas are beginning to ache."
Simms folded her arms over her chest, chin lifted stubbornly. "That will be all, Detective. I suddenly find the air in here rather stifling myself."
Kermit snorted and shook his head. "I can live with myself. Can you?" He turned and headed for the door.
"Send Caine in."
"Get him yourself," Kermit tossed over his shoulder. "I won't be a party to this." He jerked open the door and stopped abruptly. "What the hell...?"