The Heart of a Man:14

"You've found her!" Thomas Crawford's eyes leaked tears as he gathered his sleeping granddaughter in his arms. "Thank you, Detective Caine, for once again helping my family. But where is my daughter-in-law? Have you not found her as well?"

Peter glanced toward his father. "Uh. . . we're working on that." Noting the way Crawford's eyes settled curiously on Caine, Peter gestured toward the older man. "This is my father, Kwai Chang Caine."

"Shaolin?" The old man asked.

Caine nodded and bowed slightly in acknowledgement.

"I'm a student of Eastern religions," Crawford admitted. "I saw the brands when you handed my granddaughter to me. It is an honor to have you in my home. Whatever I can do to repay my debt to you, you only have to ask."

"There is something that we need to do," Peter spoke up.

Thomas pressed a button at the side of his desk, and the door immediately opened and the butler stepped into the room. Carefully settling Johanna into the man's arms, Crawford turned back to Peter. "Name it."

"We need to search your garden," Peter said.

Crawford's brows raised slightly, but he acquiesced, gesturing them out of the French doors and into the garden.

"What is it that you are looking for?" he asked.

"Your vases," Peter replied.

"I think you're going to have to explain that, Detective Caine."

Peter glanced toward his father. He didn't feel comfortable giving away Jenine's secrets. But he knew of no other way to make it clear to the man why it was so important that they search the garden.

"The truth is healing, my son," Caine said, cryptically.

Peter understood. Taking a deep breath, he gave the older Crawford the reader's digest version of what had taken place.

When he was done, the man had paled slightly, but seemed no worse for wear. "This news is heartbreaking. And everything that has happened is my fault."

"Huh?" Peter blinked. "What did you do wrong? You were the one who was deceived."

"No." Crawford shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "I wasn't deceived. I knew that Jenine wasn't the child's mother. I knew her complete history within 48 hours of her showing up on my doorstep. I even know that you and she once had a very serious relationship."

Peter could only gape in amazement. "So-so why did you take her in?"

"Because Johanna was my granddaughter. The offspring of my only child, a living memory of all that he was. And a child needs a mother. And if ever anyone could benefit from the unconditional love of a child, it was Jenine. Sometimes I would watch her. She loved that child more than life, but always, it was as if she were afraid that somehow that love would be taken away from her. That's why I didn't tell her. I thought I was helping. I thought that if I told her that I knew, she would run, and she would take Johanna away from me."

Peter chuckled in amazement. "Funny. That's the same thing she said, only in reverse. She was afraid that if you knew, you would take Johanna away from her."

"Well," Crawford heaved a sigh. "I think the fact that she tried to save something very precious to me speaks of her growth, don't you?"

"Yeah." Peter nodded, smiling in his father's direction. "I think it does."

"Good. Now, let's go find those vases."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Peter shoved the blue carrying case into the back seat of the Stealth, then climbed into the driver's seat. "How did you know to look in the wooden mount, Pop?"

Caine shrugged. "There was a disharmony in the wood."

"Right." Peter displayed the shiny mini-disk that had been hidden there. "Well, at least now we know why somebody is anxious to kill for $200,000 dollar vases. It's what was in the vases that was a big deal. Although, wasn't it kind of funny that Crawford didn't want to know what was on it."

"Perhaps it would have compromised him in some way," Caine suggested. "Some things it is better not to know."

"Speaking of knowing, did you know all along that he knew about Jenine?"

"Not all along." Caine smiled. "He chooses to see what he chooses to see. I believe he has the gift of knowing what it is important to see, and what it is important not to see."

"There you go again being cryptic."

Just then, the car phone rang. Peter glanced at the dash clock and frowned, according to his calculations, he still had an hour and a half before the kidnappers were due to call.

"Caine," he spoke into the receiver.

"Where are you?"

"Paul?" Peter felt a guilty flush wash over him as he remembered that he was supposed to call in. "I. . . uh, we took Johanna back to her grandfather's. He lives in Trinity Park. I should be back at the station in about forty minutes. Oh, and, by the way, the kidnappers contacted me, seems they think I have the vases. . . which, actually I do. But that's kind of a long story."

There was silence on the other end of the line for several seconds. "Get back to the precinct now. Do not pass go. Do not stop for doughnuts. Understood?"

"Got it," Peter replied. "See you in forty."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Paul sat behind his desk with his head in his hands. "Peter, you can't do this, alone. It's too dangerous. You've seen what's on that CD. It's Department of Defense. And from what Kermit and I could piece together, we think the man behind this operation is Jake Kensington. He's cold, methodical and has Defense Department ties. If we're right, he's already killed Steph, and Troung, who was his business partner. With the amount of money he stands to gain, he won't blink over killing a cop. I don't want you in the middle of it."

"But, Paul," Peter argued, "I'm already in the middle of it. It's my car phone that this Kensington is going to be calling. And that's due to happen in," he glanced at his watch, "fifteen minutes. I'm the only shot she's got."

"And you're going to get shot if Kensington thinks you know too much."

"I'll be careful," Peter said stubbornly. "Have Blake wire me, whatever. Besides, I can take my father."

Paul glanced toward Caine, who remained impassive and then toward Kermit who was giving Caine a run for his money at being expressionless. Jody simply shrugged. Paul sighed. They were running out of time. Jenine was running out of time.

Paul knew that he really didn't have any other choice. But that didn't mean he had to like it. "All right, I'm going to let you do this," he said, then shooting Peter a piercing look. "But there are going to be conditions.

"First, Blake is going to get as much electronics on you and that car of yours as time will allow. And Caine rides with us."

"Huh?" Peter looked at him in surprise.

"If we loose the both of you, there's no way to find you. But Caine's unique talents may prove useful should the situation arise." Paul glanced toward the elder Caine who nodded his acceptance.

Peter looked as if he was still trying to catch up. Paul clapped him on the shoulder and directed him toward Blake. "Let's get started."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Caine." Peter answered his car phone.

"Drive."

"Where to?" Peter asked as he maneuvered toward the entrance of the precinct parking lot.

"Just drive."

Peter thought to make a smart remark about which direction he should drive in, but bit it back and turned to the right out of the parking lot.

"Good choice. Also good choice to follow the directions. Turn right at the next light."

"At Ellington?" Peter said for the benefit of Paul and his father and whomever else had managed to squeeze into the white van that he knew was somewhere behind him. There had barely been time to locate and program Peter's cellular code into Blake's tracker before he'd been wired up and sent to his car. He had to make a conscious effort not to scratch at the tiny transmitter that Blake had placed in his hair. Peter was glad that at least his hair was long enough to hide the offending object.

"Can I speak to her?" Peter asked as he continued to drive, carefully weaving among the early afternoon traffic. The lunch rush was beginning to thin, making it easier for Paul's van to keep him in sight.

"Soon enough if you do what I tell you."

"How do I know that she's alive and that this isn't a trap?" Peter asked.

"You don't. And you'll do what I say anyway, because you won't take the chance that I'm not telling you the truth. Turn here. To the right."

Peter did as he was told and found himself behind an old covered army troop carrier. Two long slats extended toward the ground.

"Drive up into the truck, like a good little solider."

Peter didn't like this. "Into that old army troop carrier, are you nuts?"

"Perhaps. Now do as I've so politely asked you."

Peter blew out a breath, and then slowly drove the Stealth up into the truck. A tarp of some type fell over the opening behind him. He felt the rocking motion that told him that the truck was moving.

"Okay I'm in. Now what?" he demanded into the phone. To his surprise, there was only silence on the other end. Glancing down at the handset, he noted with dread that the signal strength indicator had completely flat lined.

"Damn." He clicked the useless phone off. Turning off the engine, he tried to open his door. It hit the side of the truck with a loud thunk. Peter looked downward and found that the distance between the inner walls of the truck and the Stealth didn't leave enough room for even a kid to get through. He then tried rolling down his window and climbing out that way, but there wasn't enough clearance above.

Hope you guys were paying attention, he thought, resigning himself to the unexpected escort. He was effectively trapped. Nothing to do but enjoy the ride.