I was, you can imagine, pretty upset over the whole thing. When Malachi didn't come back after an hour or so, I decided to go out and look for him. It just wasn't like him! I sighed and wondered if I could have done something, or said something to reassure him. Shaking my head, I decided not to think about it.

I wandered down to the main street and casually looked around at the street markets. Shopkeepers begged me to buy jewelry, shoving beautiful necklaces and bracelets in my face. I didn't feel much like buying anything, so I just smiled politely and told them that yes, the jewelry was very pretty. I somehow ended up on the ritzier side of town and found myself in a selective wine shop, just looking over the labels. I was never much into wine but I could usually pick the good out from the bad. Then again, I didn't feel much like drinking and so I kept on going.

The sun was beginning to get pretty hot so I opted for an outdoor café where I could sit in the shade for a little while. It was sitting there, fanning myself, that I saw him again.

Hannibal Lecter. My dad.

He was walking briskly towards a whitewashed building on the corner. This time, I couldn't let him get away. I had to know. Whatever his reasons were for abandoning us, I had to know. He owed us that much.

I nearly jumped out of my chair, and for once in my life, I walked gracefully and apparently undetected after him. I kept a good distance between us and entered the building. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him enter the northernmost room of the hotel. I waited for two minutes in the lobby, and then I couldn't wait any more. I had to know.

The only emotion I felt as I was climbing the steps towards his room was anger. I was surprised at myself since I am never angry, but Malachi's words rang true in my mind. It seemed to explain everything about Dad, even the stuff I didn't want explained. But I had to know.

I arrived at the room and stared at the door for a while. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding. Maybe this was just someone that looked exactly like Dad. A voice in the back of my head denied it. I had to know. I knocked.

A pause, then I heard movement inside the room. Slowly, slowly I heard someone walk to the door. Another short pause, and then rustling of the doorknob. I took a deep breath. This was it. The door opened.

"Daddy, Daddy…" I sobbed, falling into my father's arms. "Oh Dad…" He pulled me inside and shut the door. He stroked my hair while I wept gently. "Dad, why did you…why did you…"

"Rue, you shouldn't be here," he said in that voice I remembered so well.

"Dad, I have to know," I said, pulling away and looking into his eyes for the first time in five years. "Dad, why did you leave? If you're alive, why did you leave us?" My voice sounded weak and not at all like my own. I guess I missed him more than I led on.

His gaze softened somewhat. "Rue, I—"

"Why did you leave us?" I demanded, my voice finally gaining strength. "Do you have any idea what you've put this family through? Do you even care?"

"Rue—"

"Or what about Malachi? Do you know the hell you've put him through? Or what about Mom? She's still on the run, Dad, day and night!" I sighed and looked away. "And what about me?"

Dad was silent for a moment, then turned to look out the window. "Rue, did you ever stop to think that maybe the reason I didn't come back was because I cared so much for all of you?"

"That doesn't make any sense."

He sighed gently and sat down. I could see the toll five years of living alone on the run had taken on him. He looked tired, unhappy, and lonely. "Remember Vienna? How we thought we were safe and at home? As soon as those gunshots were fired, Rue, I knew what a terrible mistake I'd made."

"What?!" I cried. "What do you mean, 'a terrible mistake'?"

"Not about having a family, Rue. I never regretted that," he said, looking up into my eyes. "But having me near you only put you in jeopardy. Those gunshots could have so easily found their way to you, or your mother, or Malachi. Luckily, they didn't hit any of us."

"What? But I thought you were shot."

"No, I faked it," he sighed, standing up and beginning to pace. He was the mirror image of my brother. "As soon as you three were safely away, I escaped before I could be captured."

"But we read in the papers—"

"They are sick of chasing me, Rue," he said in a tired voice. "Just as I am sick of running from them. They wrote in the papers that I had been killed just to save their necks. It cost them millions of dollars a year trying to track me down. I finally won." He smiled in a cat-like way. "I beat them."

"That's great Dad, but why didn't you come back if they aren't after you any more?"

"Just because the FBI isn't after me anymore doesn't me that no one else is. I've pissed off a lot of people in my life time," he said with a smirk. "I am, as you say, an urban legend. People continue to be fascinated by me. They report sightings of me all the time, though I am supposedly dead. Sometimes, Rue, law enforcement officers aren't the biggest obstacle."

"Are you talking about private assassins?"

"Among other third parties, yes. And those people have no laws against killing those who are with them."

"You mean they would kill all of us, and not just you?"

"Yes, exactly. I've had many close calls since the last time I saw you, Rue. Situations such as those are not exactly a family affair, if you will." He took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is…and this isn't easy…when you're with me, you are in extreme danger. When you are spread out, you stand a much larger chance of survival. I…I love all of you too much to be in your presence."

Tears came to my eyes at this confession. "Are you sociopathic, Dad?" I asked weakly, almost afraid of the answer. Dad, with a bewildered expression that I could even remember a word like that, smiled weakly.

"I was. For a long time. I was angry at a wrong done to me many, many years ago," he said wistfully. "But when I met your mother, that all changed."

"But Malachi said that people with that disorder can't chan—oh my god, Malachi!" I screamed. I began to claw at Dad frantically. "Oh Dad, you have to help me!"

"Help you?"

"You have to help me find Malachi! Please Dad, this is very important! When we saw you in the marketplace and knew you were alive, Malachi became really upset! He's convinced you're sociopathic, that you don't care about us and that we inhibit your lifestyle and that's why you left us! Please Dad, he walked out on me and I'd never seen him like that! He…he was yelling and pacing around and just left! I don't know where he is or what he's going to say to people…please Dad…" I sobbed. "Please, you have to help me find my brother…I love him so much…I can't stand to see anything happen to him…"

"Calm down," Dad ordered in a firm voice. "I know you're upset but bawling like a child will get us nowhere. You must think rationally and its difficult to do so when you are sobbing."

Much as I hated to admit it, Dad was right. I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears. "Ok, ok, I'm calm…" I glanced over at Dad, who seemed to be lost in thought. He just looked so different now. I felt like I was in the room with a stranger. I realized with sorrow how much turmoil he must have gone through these last five years fighting for his life to keep his family safe. In some ways, it had been easier for us—we thought he was dead, and that thought, although horrible, at least offered us some safety, some finality. Dad, on the other hand, not only had to fear for his own safety, but for ours as well.

Without looking back at me, Dad said, "I've read your books, Rue. Very impressive."

"Really?" I said. I knew what he was trying to do. He had used this tactic since I was a little kid. Every time I was upset about something, he would compliment me on an achievement, and it would almost always calm me down. It felt good to have that reassurance again. "I'm glad you got to read them. A lot of times I'd wonder what you would have thought of them. But, of course, I thought you were…that you were…" Tears began to stream down my cheeks again and Dad wrapped his arms around me. His familiar cologne and warm arms made me feel truly safe for the first time in years.

"I've missed you so much, Rue. So often I'd give anything, just to hold you in my arms like this, if only for a moment," he whispered to me. How did he know that's exactly what I wanted to hear?

"Oh Dad…I never knew if you were proud of me or not. I mean, I'm completely opposite from you, and—"

"And that's why I love you so much. You are your own person. You are strong, Rue, very strong. I've always admired your warrior spirit. I was never once not proud of you."

"What about that time I set fire to the living room rug?"

He laughed slowly; funny, it almost sounded like he had forgotten how to laugh. "Yes, there was that."

"And the time my gerbils, Schizo and Twitchy, got loose and ended up in the plumbing."

"Ah, yes, I remember that quite well. I was the one that had to retrieve them, as I recall."

"And what about the time I ran through the neighborhood completely nude?"

He laughed again, this time sounding more like himself. "The neighbors nearly had a fit. That was a classic moment."

"Dad, I've missed you," I said softly, holding him tighter. "Please, don't ever leave us again."

"You know I can't promise that," he said, letting go of me. "But first we must find your brother. Now, it seems to me that Malachi, in that state, would want to be alone. Where can someone go to be alone, completely alone, here?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I haven't been here all that long."

Dad thought for a moment, his calculating mind once again working away. "Let's check the coves first. I have a feeling that is where he is."