The Heart of a Man: 11
"Whoa. . . nice. Was." Jody walked around the silver luxury sedan, taking in the smashed dashboard and the broken driver's side window. "One way to keep the yuppies out of the neighborhood. Look at that leather interior. I'll bet this thing costs more than I make in a year. . . hell, two years."
Blake looked up from his own examination of the vehicle, a gleam in his eyes.
"What?" she asked, suspiciously.
"Satellite tracking system. ISS-2000. State of the art." Blake was pointing toward a flashing light near the driver's side floorboard. "The onboard receiver gives the central station the ability to track this vehicle to within a square yard anywhere on the surface of the Earth. Even underwater. The enhanced data stream--"
"Stop!" Jody held a hand up. "English."
"Sorry," Blake apologized, and adjusted his glasses before blowing out a breath and speaking more slowly. "This system allows the owner to track this vehicle if it is ever stolen. It can take the police right to it."
"Wow." Jody whistled, eyeing the car. "Then that makes me really wonder what such a nice vehicle like you is doing in a place like this."
"Maybe joy riders stole it while the owner was out of town?" Blake suggested, as he continued to scan through the many systems installed on the vehicle like a kid in a toy store.
"Maybe." Jody stifled a laugh, wondering what it was with men and cars. Sliding into the passenger seat, she reached to check the glove compartment for the registration. "What say we ask the owner?"
Blake looked up distractedly from a control panel on the driver's side. "Yeah. Okay." Scanning the controls, he hit the button that with a hiss of air released the trunk.
Jody shook her head as she found a leather-bound case containing vehicle information.
"I wonder how big the trunk is," Blake said as he scooted out of the seat.
"I'll bet you could probably fit your entire James Bond action kit in there," Jody murmured under her breath as she focused on the registration. A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she recognized the name of the owner.
"Oh my God, Jenine Crawford." She'd barely breathed the words when a choking sound from the back of the car caught her attention. Rushing around the vehicle, she stopped short at the contorted and very dead body that had been stuffed into the trunk.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
"Blaisdell." Paul snatched the phone from its cradle.
"Paul? Broderick said that you were looking for me?"
Paul's brow furrowed at the sound of his foster son's voice. "Yeah, I was. But I don't want to go in to it over the phone. You on your way in?" Glancing quickly at his watch, he noted that Peter still had a good 5 minutes before he was truly late.
"Uh, no. I already told Broderick that there are a couple nasty types in my father's building, all nice and gift wrapped for you. They attacked me and my father this morning."
"Like a magnet," Paul chuckled.
"Yeah, like a magnet. It's in the genes, I guess. Listen, something's going down Paul, and I don't really want to tell you about it over the phone either, but there's been a kidnapping."
"What?! Who?"
"I can't explain right now. Pop, which way?"
"Peter? What's going on? Who has been kidnapped?" Paul faintly heard Kwai Chang Caine reply that Peter should turn right.
"A little girl. Johanna Crawford. My father is tracking her now. He says we can't wait. She's in trouble."
"At least tell me where you're going, I can get you some backup." The name Crawford was setting off alarms bells in Paul's head. The more he heard, the less he liked where this situation appeared to be headed.
"I wish I knew, Paul. The best I can do is tell you that it looks like we're heading into the old warehouse district. Eastbound on US71."
Paul vaguely heard Caine's quiet voice directing Peter to the left.
"I know we're talking a big area, but that's the best. . . ."
Paul heard Caine's voice rise. "Left now!" followed by the sound of a car horn and squealing tires.
"Peter! What was that?" he demanded, his heart pounding into high gear.
"Just a little offensive driving. Just like you taught me."
Paul rolled his eyes and told his heart to slow down. "Look, we're on the way. You keep me posted and let me know exactly where you are."
"Sure, no problem."
Paul sighed and closed his eyes as he hung up the phone. He didn't like where this was going. Not at all. The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable it made him feel. Pushing himself out of his chair, he headed for Kermit's office. The room was empty, but the computer appeared to be hard at work.
Turning back toward the bullpen, he decided to have a quick word with Broderick.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Peter clicked off his car phone and turned toward his father. He had barely opened his mouth when Caine spoke.
"We are near."
"Okay, next question," Peter said, continuing along the pothole strewn service road that led behind a group of warehouses in an old industrial area of the city. He slowed as he crossed over a set of railroad tracks. "Can you tell if she is being heavily guarded?"
"I cannot," Caine said. "They have given her something to drink which is making her sleepy." He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. "We must hurry, Peter. I fear that I may lose my link with her should she fall asleep."
Peter pressed the gas pedal closer to the floorboard, increasing his speed as much as he dared.
"You can tell all that?" Jenine's incredulous voice sounded from the backseat.
"Yes." Caine turned toward her slightly. "She is trying to remain awake, but it is difficult for her."
She reached a hand across the seat and clasped his shoulder. "Is she okay? Can you tell what they gave her? It's not poison, is it?"
Peter saw his father clasp his hand over Jenine's, then focus deeply almost as if using the woman's connection with the girl. His eyes widened with surprise when Jenine gasped.
"Jo?" She spoke the child's name aloud.
Peter noticed that his father was beginning to slump.
"Pop!" He reached an arm toward the older man to steady him.
"I am all right," Caine said softly. "Stop the car. We must go on foot."
Peter did as he was told, pulling the vehicle in close to one side of a large old warehouse and quickly climbed out, keeping a critical eye on his father.
Jenine moved to get out of the car behind him.
"No way," he told her. "You stay in the car, and keep your head down."
"Are you crazy? Johanna is in there! I'm going with you."
"No you're not," Peter turned away.
"Yes, I am." She followed, determined.
Peter turned to face her. "I could cuff you to the steering wheel," he said in a low voice. "I wouldn't try me if I were you."
Jenine held his gaze for several moments. "Why does he get to go?" She jerked her head toward his father.
Peter rolled his eyes at the childish statement. "While we stand here arguing, he's steadily losing strength trying to hold on to the link with your dau--Johanna. If he loses that link, it could be too late before we find her."
Jenine only took half a second to consider his words before climbing back into the car.
"Do me a favor," Peter threw over his shoulder as he headed off after his father. "Call the station and tell them where we are. Ask for Paul Blaisdell."
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
"Who is this?" Broderick barked into the telephone, poking a finger into his ear to mute out the sound of a group of brawling hippies. How Peace and Love had come to disagreement, he didn't care. He just wished that they'd take it some place else.
"I told you, I'm calling for Peter Caine!"
"And I told you that he's not here, right now." He glanced around the bullpen, looking for someone else to give the call to. There was no one. Blake was still out with Powell. Even Strenlich was on the phone getting an ear full.
"I know he isn't there right now. He's here and he needs backup!"
Broderick's expression immediately turned serious. Peter Caine never called for backup. Something had to be wrong. "Where?" he asked, listening carefully as the woman described the location. As he quickly jotted it on a slip of paper, he saw a shadow fall over him.
"Peter?" Blaisdell asked without preamble.
Broderick nodded shortly and handed him the slip of paper. "There's a civilian at the scene. She was told to remain in the car. Peter and his father have gone inside."
Paul snatched the paper from Broderick's hand and headed for the door. "Tell her to follow that advice, and I want two cruisers to meet me there yesterday!"
"Yes, sir." Returning to his conversation with the woman, he instructed her to wait in the vehicle, and assured her that help was on the way. His next duty was to make it so.
Tasks completed, he turned back toward the counter just as one of the brawling hippies got a choke hold on the louder of the group. They all went down in a tangle of long hair, swinging arms and earth shoes. Several officers rushed over to sort out the mess. When all involved were at least mildly quieted, Broderick leaned across the desk, and with his best welcome-to-hell smile, said, "Congratulations. You've all earned the right to become our very special guests for the next 24 hours."
