The old man invited him in with a sad smile. "You have returned at last," he said. "Come in, come in. Has the light on your path brought you back to your son?"

"My son... he is not ready for a teacher."

"A young man is always ready for a father," the old man said quietly, before sitting down on a comfortable chair, waving for his fellow priest to sit as well. "You have not returned for Peter. Why have you come?"

"I was summoned, Master. Because the Chiru have returned." Kwai Chang sat down on the old man's upholstered red divan.

The Ancient nodded gravely. "Indeed? They have attacked your son in an attempt to bring you here, to a place where they can destroy you."

"Yes. I met him earlier, at the hospital with the police captain. He spoke to me of his nightmares. The author told me his friends had been killed. He seemed very... unwell," said Kwai Chang.

"Yes. This is true," replied the Ancient. "His chi must be encouraged to flow properly once more, but he will recover, so long as this threat is resolved..." The Ancient tapped a finger on the table and shook his head. "I have looked forward to your return, Kwai Chang Caine, with joy in my heart, but not so you might battle these dark forces."

"You see that I have no choice," he replied. "I must ask for your help, as I did before."

The Ancient nodded. "The awareness of shadow and substance will not help you this time," he warned.

"Yes, I know. I must battle them on a higher plane... if you believe I am ready."

The Ancient frowned and stood, hands moving in a strange pattern around Kwai Chang Caine's body until it seemed that he was satisfied with what he found there. His eyes narrowed. "You would undertake the training?"

"If you will teach me, Master."

The Ancient nodded. "I believe you are ready, but the commitment will be great. You will face great challenges— and the danger to those around you will also be great. Your son's life will also—"

"Uncle? Are you in here?" Kwai Chang turned to see Xiaoli, the Ancient's niece, entering the room. The old man smiled at her, welcoming her. "Master Caine! You are here! Peter must be happy that you're back," she said with a bright smile. "Everyone will be!"

Kwai Chang bowed slightly. The Ancient's niece was a pleasant person, and he was happy to see her. However... he did wish she had come at some other time.

"You have come for a reason?"

"Ah. Yes." Her face fell. "Well: this was delivered to the Bakery this morning, and they asked me to bring it to you. I thought to give it to my Uncle, but... since you're here, Master Caine..." She handed him the white envelope with a deep bow. "My condolences. Who is it that died?"

Kwai Chang's blood ran cold as he stared at the envelope. He reached out with his chi, blindly, searching for his son, but the bond he had formed with Peter had degraded over the months. He cursed the distance he had created between them. If only this were not true, he swore to himself that he would find a way to heal the wounds.

The Ancient plucked the envelope from his hands and opened it. "I believe it is a threat," said the old man. He pulled a letter from inside, opened it and read it silently while Kwai Chang forced his fear into submission. "Thank you, my dear. Kwai Chang Caine and I have much to do."

Kwai Chang waited until she left before he asked the question. "Is my son dead?"

"He is not." The answer was swift, immediate, and yet held no comfort. "I would not lie to you again. But... he is threatened. The Chiru hold your son, and offer you an exchange. His life for your own."

"I do not believe that they will free him," said Kwai Chang.

"No. Those who fight in the shadows know only deception." The Ancient shook his head. "They will kill him, whether you go or do not. But... you must go." He placed the paper down on the table and covered it with a bit of cloth. "You are afraid."

Kwai Chang said nothing.

"You must set your fear for your son aside. It is the only way you will learn what you need to know." The old man sighed as he looked at Kwai Chang's stiff form. "There will be consequences. Light can burn the shadows away, but it also casts the shadows. Do you understand this, Kwai Chang Caine?"

"I do not understand," replied Kwai Chang. "But I will not allow my son to die."

The Ancient stared through the priest. The old man's chi was very strong, and its power seemed to envelop the Shaolin priest, as if testing his determination. He held himself firm, willing his old friend to feel the determination in the depths of his soul, holding his fear at arm's length. Minutes passed before the Ancient nodded once, decisively.

"I will teach you, Kwai Chang Caine. First... we must meditate. Come. Join your chi with mine."

"Master? Where are we?" It was disconcerting: they had been in the private space of the Ancient's apartment, and suddenly, they seemed to be in a Temple. It was not the Tao Temple, where he had taken refuge for these past few months, nor was it the Temple in Northern California where he had raised his son, but it was real. And strange.

Even their clothing had somehow changed in the transition.

"I have brought us here, to this place," said the Ancient.

"But... how? Where?"

"That is a question for later," he replied. "We must concentrate now on the challenge you have before you. You cannot defeat the Chiru by yourself, and yet this is a task that you must undertake alone. I cannot help you with the battle." The Ancient seemed perfectly still as he spoke, blending with the wall in the yellow robe that he wore as he taught. It was difficult to ignore the strange white walls of the Temple, but Kwai Chang focused on the old Master's words. "Each man," continued the Ancient, "holds a multitude. The properly trained can use this knowledge to join themselves in battle. This is what you will need to defeat these warriors of fear."

Kwai Chang tilted his head, trying to puzzle out the old man's words. Each man holding a multitude... did his Master mean that he must access the lives that he had lived? "How must I do this, Master?"

"You are a priest," said the Ancient. "Focus on that for a moment. Concentrate on your time as a priest; as a spiritual healer, and as a confidant of those who need guidance."

The priest nodded, taking all of his memories as a priest— the times when he had been in his Temple, with his son—

A rap across his shoulder pulled him away. "You also are a father. This is not the same as being a priest."

"How—" The Ancient's eyes narrowed in a warning look, and Kwai Chang nodded. However his Master had known he was thinking of his son, it did not matter. He was thinking of his son, and dropping his focus must have been obvious in some way to the old Shaolin.

"You must learn this technique more quickly than any other I have taught, Kwai Chang Caine, for the sake of your son. Accept your fear and release it so that you can focus."

Releasing his fear was impossible. He pushed it aside instead, resolving to deal with his emotions towards his son at some later point. Hours passed as Kwai Chang Caine focused, first on the priest, then on the father. The killer, the son, the student, the teacher— all aspects of his self until he was familiar with each one, able to call them up as quickly as the Ancient could speak their names.

And yet... "Master— the time draws near, and I have not accomplished this technique. Even though I am under prepared, I must go now. I must make the attempt."

Lo Si closed his eyes for a moment, the nodded. "Kwai Chang Caine: it is time. You must hold focus on the strongest of your aspects. Teacher, I think, is the strongest you possess. Focus on both the teacher, and on the man who is known as Kwai Chang Caine."

"Master..."

"All things can be named, my dear friend and student. Focus on those names. Focus on what gives them those names, what separates them and what joins them; concentrate on your goals."

Kwai Chang was impatient now. He needed to find his son, but if he was to save his son, he needed this method, did he not? His determination would have to be stronger than any anxiety or impatience he might have. He gathered himself together: he was one man, but he held many within himself. The teacher in him was strong, and wise, and watchful, and—

He saw himself suddenly, not metaphorically, but physically and psychically. "I will teach them that the Shaolin stand against fear."

"Yes," he replied to himself, letting loose a huff of air at the surprise. "We will not let their fear take our son." His doppelganger nodded, then bowed. Kwai Chang Caine returned it, and when he looked back up, the other him was gone!

"Bloody marvelous," said his Master, looking at him with pride. "You are most worthy of your name."

Kwai Chang nodded, satisfied with his success, but an issue yet remained. "I must use this in battle. It will not be so easy as holding the form."

"No," said the old man, smiling ear to ear. "But when you are confronted by the Chiru, you will be able to do this thing. You are all of these men, Kwai Chang Caine. Your self is not one, but many, and you can now allow them to help you." The old man sobered. "You are still a novice with this technique. These aspects are but fragments of light to your chi. The will be unable to physically touch your enemies. Remember this when you fight."

"Yes, Master. Thank you for teaching me this. I am ready; I must not delay."

The Ancient took his hand and shook his head. "You are ready, Kwai Chang Caine. But it is a task you cannot do alone."

The younger priest nodded. There would, after all, be two of the Chiru. If his other selves could not touch either of them, they would only be available as distraction. His son, however, knew how to fight. He would certainly support his father in this endeavor. "Peter will be there."

"A prisoner."

"I will attempt to rescue him," he said. There was, after all, no other choice in the matter.

"You will be busy with the Chiru masters. I will free the prisoner."

"You have already done enough, Master," said Kwai Chang, looking at the old man's fragile bones and thin frame. "This is not your fight."

"All battles against evil must be joined or the soul will be as paper in the flame." The words were spoken with such solemnity, Kwai Chang was not certain how he could possibly argue them. "Also, he is my student. There is a duty."

Kwai Chang bowed deeply. Duty did not require that Lo Si risk his life for Kwai Chang Caine's son, but he could hear a note of familial love that was covered by the excuse. His family was truly blessed and honored to have such support! "Thank you, my friend," he said, feeling a great deal of relief.

With the Ancient on his side, he could not fail to have his son returned to safety.

The cave was dark and filled with shadows. Lo Si had expected no less; what was interesting was how much light filled the cave. Then again, without light, how could the Chiru use the shadows against them? He wished, not for the first time, that he was a younger man, able to directly confront the evils of the world as the Caine family did.

Of course, being unable to physically challenge them did not mean that he had no skills or power of his own. One did not become as old as he without the ability to keep evil at bay. He could sense the general direction of the Chiru. They were together for now, although the two Shaolin should not rely on that.

"Go that way," he said to the priest. "We will split up."

Caine nodded and moved towards the enemy.

The Ancient closed his eyes and concentrated. Finding Peter Caine was a most important task. Brave he might be, but the young man's fear was painfully close in these halls. The old man had heard whispers of a spirit that the Chiru could summon, one that could devour everything that a man held dear through his fears. If such a spirit truly existed, Lo Si hoped that these two were incapable of calling it, for Peter's damaged heart would surely be a feast.

He kept an eye on the walls of the narrow, winding cavern as he walked through the confusing maze of shadows. His heart could feel Peter's; the general direction was clear, but at each fork required careful attention. They had brought Peter in this way... and this way...

As he continued, frigid water from the lake began to climb, and the Ancient suppressed a shiver. He was glad, now, that he had not left Kwai Chang Caine to do this on his own: he would not have been able to split his thoughts between finding his son and finding the Chiru. Searching for his son would have left him open to physical attack, but fearing that his child might drown would have left him open to spiritual attack.

He turned a corner.

There he was— the Ancient felt a moment's surprise. He had expected that Peter would be alone, but he and a fellow prisoner stood in water that had risen to their knees. They struggled to stay upright against a fast developing undertow, holding each other's hands in the darkness.

"Peter."

Caine's son's head turned immediately at the sound of his name. "Lo Si!" He took a step away from his friend, but aborted the movement with a shake of his head. "You can't reach me. You can't make it through the shadows!"

The Ancient smiled reassuringly. He could not fight the Chiru, but he knew how to walk with the water so as not to make a wave, and he knew how to help Peter find his own way. "The trick," he said, "is not to move through the shadows, but around them. If you look, you will see a path."

He reached out a hand, and Peter reached back.

"Look with your inner eyes," he commanded, and with barely a thought, he reached out with his chi and opened the door to the cave, the water, and that part of Peter Caine that he could reach without words.

Peter's eyes widened in surprise, and Peter's joy filled the Ancient's heart. "I see it!" he said, then turned to see his fellow prisoner, face twisted in confusion. "Don't worry, just... Walk where I walk."

"Yes. Now, come," said the Ancient. "Yield to the water as the bamboo yields to the wind, and we will be free of this dark place."

Kwai Chang Caine walked deeper into the rocky cave, the light dimming as he went, until he came, finally, to a place within that was covered with flickering candles and reflective mirrors. Smoke rose from the floor, diffusing much of the flicker so that it almost looked, at times, as though he was walking through a cloud of lightning.

How had they created this space? Had this nest of vipers been here longer than Kwai Chang suspected?

"Welcome, Kwai Chang Caine." The voice echoed off the uneven stone walls, but a man stepped out from behind a column hidden in the smoke. He was most certainly Chinese, with an accent coloring his speech, but his face was obscured by a mask that looked like it had been fashioned of mist. "I wondered if you would come."

Kwai Chang nodded. "I spoke the truth to you before: you must defeat me before you can kill the author."

"I care little for an author who did not believe what he wrote," said the man. "You are the one who must die. You are a great threat— and beyond that, it is a matter of honor."

Was that so? "Why did you attack my son?"

"Your son..." He didn't wait for a response. "He will die soon. My student is angry, and wants revenge. Knowing he cannot defeat you, he will cause great pain to your child before he takes his life. Your son will be punished for your transgressions," came the response. "But you will not live to see his eyes dim. Have you any final words, Kwai Chang Caine?"

"You will not succeed," warned Kwai Chang.

"We will see."

With that, the man backed into the shadows. The pair began to fight, the Chiru taking an early advantage as he used the mirrors to distract. He knew the position of each of them, and took full use of the battlefield he had prepared. Awareness of substance and shadow might not be enough to win the fight— but it was still necessary.

Creating the focused version of himself, the teacher, was no easy feat while fighting a man who used his focus against him. As Kwai Chang attempted to create a partner from his soul, he had to fend off his enemy's attacks, dodging, repositioning, avoiding the other man's hand and the poison that was surely there. High kicks, low punches, spinning and maneuvering for position, the two fighters showed their experience with each movement.

"I will not succumb to your poison," said the priest.

"The apprentice uses poison," said the Chiru. "The Master uses daggers of the mind— a technique taught only to the most worthy, and used against only the most formidable. Be proud that I will end your life thus!" With that, the other smiled, and landed a hit— an image in his mind of his son, dead at the feet of the Shadow Master's student. He felt the cold in the seat of his chest, a blow more potent than any physical one he might have received from another man. It stole his breath for a moment.

But overconfidence was the Chiru greatest flaw: he had made a grave error with that blow. His son was the best key to the aspects of Kwai Chang Caine's soul. Father and Teacher fought their way to the surface. They would not allow this threat.

"If you possess a dagger of the mind… I must bring forth a shield."

He split into four separate aspects, and the Shadow Master stared for a moment, taken aback. "What—? I don't recall seeing such a technique from the Shaolin," he muttered, and began his attack.

If the Shaolin technique were simply shadows, this man would have easily seen through it, but the Ancient's method was so much more than that. These were parts of Kwai Chang's own soul, and so, when the Chiru chose his attack, the Father dodged. The Teacher distracted with a feigned blow, no matter that it could not land.

Kwai Chang Caine pressed his advantage, striking many blows on the man before knocking him against a wall. The Priest waited for his enemy to rise; when he realized the man would not, he went to find him, but the Chiru had already slipped back into the shadows, as his apprentice had done before.

For all that their training relied on manipulating the fears of others, they were nothing but cowards.

The Teacher and the Father returned to him between one heart beat and the next, and Kwai Chang Caine took a deep, cleansing breath. He needed to find his son.

"Are you all right, Lo Si?"

It had taken almost fifteen minutes for the group to climb up out of the flooded cavern, stepping between what Peter could only describe as beams of light, visible only to Peter and Lo Si. They'd emerged into a strange mist, their waterlogged pants heavy and dripping on the cave floor, and the Ancient grimaced and waved a hand to dispel it. The old man truly looked his age now, as though the final few steps that Peter and Lu had taken against the currents had taken a toll directly on Ancient instead of the two younger men.

"I am well, Peter," wheezed the Ancient. Were his words halting because of his regular cadence, or because he was not as well as he wanted the younger men to believe? Peter wasn't sure if he'd be able to tell. "It is easier to act as the water than the stone."

"What?" Lu stared at them in confusion. "What does that mean?"

Peter shrugged. "You know how water can take down a mountain? Water flows while the mountain crumbles." He paused and smiled sheepishly at his friend's puzzled look. "Or something like that, Lu— you know, don't think too much about it. Lo Si, my father—"

"—Is indisposed." It was as if the man had come from nowhere. He wore a mask over his face now, but but it wasn't hard to figure out who he was: a tall, blond, blue-eyed man in a trenchcoat.

"It's him! That's the guy!"

"Yeah. That mask doesn't disguise it at all. He really is a cop. Federal Agent Jorgenson, wasn't it?" Peter stepped forward. "Lu, keep the old man safe. I'll deal with this asshole."

There was no preamble from the Chiru, and the pair began trading blows; a blocked kick, a flurry of punches, an acrobatic leg spin. Jorgenson's moves were slow, methodical, yet brutal with their power. Peter's were no less strong, a mix of Shaolin training and the fighting he'd done on the streets.

Jorgenson tried a body slam, but Peter deflected it, then jumped and sent a spinning kick right into the cop's unprotected belly. Jorgenson shook off the pain and another set of blows between them ended with the Chiru apprentice sending a chopping uppercut to the back of Peter's neck, causing him to stumble.

Peter grinned cockily, feeling a joy in the fight, and ignored the bruise as he jumped, another high kick, this time right to the face, sending Jorgenson into the next room in the cave. He glanced at Lo Si and Lu, checking that they were both all right before he jumped to where he'd sent his opponent— only to find that the other man had disappeared into the ether.

"Where the hell did he go?" asked Peter.

"They have left," came his father's voice.

"Left? What do you mean? After all that, he just... left?"

Pop nodded as he came into view. "They will return, but it will take them time to regroup. We will leave now."

"You can't be serious. These guys are probably waiting for us at the cave entrance."

"They will not be," said Pop.

"They have left," added the Ancient.

Lu patted his pockets. "Kidnapped by maniacs who disappear into thin air," he muttered, pulling out a pack of soggy cigarettes that he threw to the ground. "This has been the craziest day, Peter, and I have no idea how I'm going to explain it to the guys."

"Yeah?" Peter grinned. "Pretty ordinary for my Pop." Lu helped the Ancient as the four of them left the caves. Peter hung back just enough that he could smile hesitantly at his father. "I beat him, you know."

"Yes," said the elder Caine, returning the smile. "You did well."

Peter basked in the pride he could hear in Pop's voice. Maybe... maybe things didn't have to be so bad between them? If he could just hold his temper, stop himself from driving his father off...

"I suppose I'm not as young as I used to be," mused Paul Blaisdell. "When I was your age, I'd have bounced back from this in no time."

"When you were my age," replied Kermit, "you'd have taken them down first."

A corner of his mouth quirked up. He'd probably never admit it, but Kermit's occasional hero worship was good for his ego. "Maybe so, maybe so. But I'm my age, and something like that takes me out of the fight." His back twinged slightly. "I want to know who attacked us. Did forensics find anything at the scene of the accident?"

"No. Whoever it was, they disappeared like shadows."

"That's what Peter Caine said," replied Paul with a chuckle.

"If this was a cyber attack, a few shadows would be all I need to figure them out. But this?" Paul raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the other man's Desert Eagle. "I need something to start with, and Powell and Skalaney haven't brought me anything."

Paul sighed in disappointment. "Can't find what's not there, I suppose. Still, I can't help but feel like—" The sound of a ruckus in the station house made it's way to them, even through the closed office door.

"Huh. Speaking of Peter Caine..." Kermit looked out through the blinds, shaking his head. "I thought I told him to stay away from the station, you, and Ed. That kid just will not do what he's told."

"If Caine followed orders, the city would be a lot worse off."

"Maybe, but he's not doing anyone any favors right now." Kermit shrugged as Strenlich arrived to deal with the argument. "I looked into the accusations Jorgenson made. He's probably not entirely wrong. I think Peter's brought a handful of people into the country on back alley visas using some of Tan's connections. But the other stuff, the dead bodies and the weapons trade... There's nothing there."

"More smoke?"

"Not even that."

"I could wish Caine'd keep his nose clean." Paul sighed. "See what you can do."

"I erased the digital traces I found." Kermit turned aroud to look at Paul, while beyond the glass, Eagleton and Caine were standing up. "I still don't get why you keep sticking your neck out for him. Or asking me to risk mine."

"I owe him a debt, Kermit. Hell, the whole city owes him a debt. Someone's got to make sure our debts are paid— I'll find another way if you're not going to help me." Paul closed his eyes. and leaned back in his seat. "God, I'm tired. And they're coming here, aren't they."

"Oh, yeah..." Kermit said as he glanced over his shoulder, a grin quickly fading from his face. "Captain, if you're not ready to deal with them—"

"I'm not dead yet."

Kermit nodded and opened the door just as Strenlich raised a hand to knock. "Captain says, come in," he said, then held up a hand before he let them enter, dropping his voice. "I say, the man's still injured, and if any of you make him relapse, Annie will come here and personally knock your blocks off— or maybe I'll do it for her."

"Anyone ever tell you you're not supposed to threaten your manager, Kermit?" The man in the green glasses smiled while Frank scowled.

"Kermit," said Paul, letting a note of warning into his voice. All the men in the office heard it, which was just fine with him. "Now, what's all this about?"

"Caine," said Eagleton, "came in to tell me about how our No-Cause Killer is the Federal Agent. Just because the man questioned him!" Eagleton shook his head in disgust. "I'm not going to let him get away with maligning another good officer to deflect his own guilt."

"My own guilt?" Peter's hands were clenched into fists. "I didn't kill any of those women, and you know it!"

"His alibis checked out," Kermit reminded Eagleton.

"He's a damned criminal, he probably threatened those alibis!"

"Do you have proof of that?" asked Paul. Eagleton's mouth turned into a thin line. "Of course you don't. All right, Caine. What about you: do you have any proof that Agent Jorgenson is at all involved in those deaths?"

"He kidnapped me! I barely made it out alive, but my Pop came— we fought in these caves just outside the city. That man's a Chiru, and he kidnapped a Tong member. The last thing anyone needs is the Tongs declaring war on the cops—"

"Can you testify in court that he's the one that kidnapped you? That you saw him with your own two eyes?" Peter frowned. "No. What about the Tong member? Then do you think he is going to talk to the police and testify in front of a jury? He's going to be credible?" Peter opened his mouth a few times. "Hard evidence: you can lead us to a blood trail, or a note with his fingerprints on it?"

"Captain, I..." Peter shook his head. "He's the one that attacked us, that put you in the hospital. I saw him, in that trench coat—"

"You're basing this accusation off of seeing a man's build under a trench coat? Caine, you're bringing me a conspiracy theory." Paul rubbed his forehead. "Civilians... Frank, Ed, I'll deal with this. And Ed? Stop going after Caine unless you've got some hard evidence, or he's going to end up suing us for harassment. Kermit, stick around."

Eagleton glared at Peter, but he and Frank headed out, closing the door behind them.

He didn't need this trouble, did he? Maybe Kermit was right, maybe they should cut him loose. Was Peter Caine worth it? Yes, there were reasons to help him, and God knew Paul liked to recruit talent from the most unlikely places, but— Damn it, the kid had saved his life less than three days ago, there was no way he could just blow Peter Caine off.

"I'm sorry," said Peter. "Maybe I should have come to you first—"

"You're damned right you should have," said Paul. "You come in here and give some cock and bull story to Eagleton of all people?"

"He's the detective of record, isn't he?" Caine looked out the window sullenly. "You know what he said? He said the people I was living with were crooks like me and deserved what they got. He said there was evidence that James was... was bringing people into the country and extorting them."

"Was he?"

"No!" Peter shook his head emphatically. "If he was blackmailing people, someone would have told me." He spun around. "Captain, he's already decided I killed those girls. He's not even looking. You can't expect me to stay quiet."

"Find some evidence and I'll let you speak as loud as you want." Paul stared at the young man in annoyance, then shook his head, realizing what he'd just said. "No, scratch that. You need to stay away from it. You are a civilian, you don't even have a PI license yet, and you're more than likely to screw up any case we try to make."

"I can't do nothing. I won't."

"Captain... how about a compromise. I'll keep an eye on him, like a junior detective. He finds a lead, he brings it to me, we go over it together. I can get involved in anything that might lead to evidence so that there's someone who knows what they're doing."

Paul looked at Caine, who nodded and looked out the window. Paul followed his gaze: Eagleton, glaring. "I don't know where to start, but... they deserve justice," he said quietly. "Jorgenson is going to kill again, I know it, and Eagleton... he's fixated on me. Please, Captain."

The old mercenary sighed, feeling all his years. He should get Caine away from the situation. He knew he should get him away from it, every bit of his training in the police told him that Caine was a volatile element— not to mention, and it couldn't be stressed enough, a civilian. But there was something in his gut that told him, civilian or not, Caine wasn't going to back down. If he didn't keep that young man under control, involved just enough to keep him out of trouble, he'd make a mess of the entire situation.

"Why do I feel like I'm letting one of the Hardy Boys get involved in a murder investigation?" But then again, that was the ultimate goal. An informant who could take initiative, a quasi-undercover who could get them the information they needed... "All right, Kermit. You show him the ropes, but this happens outside the station. After today's stunt, I don't want you in the same room as Eagleton or Jorgenson for at least a month."

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."

"Come on, Caine." Kermit put an arm around the young man's shoulders and nodded at Paul. "I'll take you out for coffee. I know a great place down the street."

Paul watched the pair leave, thinking to himself. Peter Caine might not trust his officers, but Paul Blaisdell had made a career out of choosing the right men for the right jobs. He had not chosen Jorgenson, but he had chosen Ed Eagleton, and he believed in his young detective. Freezing the man out of his own case was the wrong call, and he wasn't going to let Peter Caine make the wrong call for him.

He picked up his phone. "Ed. My office."