Peter Caine gaped at the dead body laying at his feet. He knew this victim, only seeing her hours before. The theory Kermit had presented to him this morning began to sink in and guilt swept over him. He was the link to all the killings. He swallowed as he heard footsteps pause beside him. He glanced up at Chief Strenlich.

"What a waste," Frank said, gazing at the body, the up at Peter. His expression changed to concern. "You okay, Detective?"

Peter forced a smile and rested his arm on the chief's shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "I'll be okay."

Frank nodded. His gaze shifted once more, and Peter turned to see what caught his eye. Paul Blaisdell stepped up on the grass and walked toward them.

"What have we got?" the captain asked as he approached.

"Another dead girl," Frank replied. "Another statistic. We don't have an ID on this one."

Peter stared down at her, his heart in his throat. "Her name is Sally," he said hoarsely. "She worked at the dry cleaners down the street from me." He gazed up at the two men beside him. "Knew them all...all the victims..."

Something out of the corner of his eye distracted him. A shadow in the trees...Caine.

Alarmed, Peter rushed toward the figure, but as he drew closer, he saw nothing. Just trees. His heart aches with disappointment, as he walked back to the group of officers, his mind racing. I saw him, he thought. I know I saw him.

Paul Blaisdell broke him out of his reverie. "Peter? Are you all right, son?"

"Yeah," Peter said absently stopping for a moment in front of his foster father before moving toward his car. "I'll talk to you later." He didn't wait for a reply. There's somewhere I need to be for a while.

Moments later, Peter stood across the street of the former home of Kwai Chang Caine. Once warm and inviting, the kwoon had since been converted to a wholesale dress factory. He knew that standing there was futile, but he could not resist the hope within himself that his father would return.

Why did you abandon the kwoon, father? he asked inwardly. Does that mean you won't come back? Give me a sign, father. Please.

A voice beside him startled him. "Come with me, Peter." He jumped and turned to see the Ancient standing beside him.

"I wish you would stop doing that!" he snapped, then sighed, trying to regain his composure. "Sorry," he added softly. "I'll be okay. I'll be fine."

The Ancient was unrelenting. "We must talk...about your father."

Stunned, Peter could only nod in response. Lo Si gestured to him to follow, and he obeyed.

The warmth of the Ancient's small apartment was a nice welcome from the cold night. Peter shed his jacket, while Lo Si went right to work at preparing tea.

"Do you need some help?" Peter offered.

"No, thank you," Lo Si replied. "I like my guests to relax. I love to play the host."

Peter signed and sat down resignedly onto the couch. He noticed the two teacups sitting on the coffee table in front of him and wondered if Lo Si had been expecting his arrival. He looked up as the Ancient brought the teapot over and filled the cups.

"Besides," Lo Si added, "your father would not be pleased if I did not make sure his son received rest and nourishment."

"Have you heard anything from him?" Peter asked anxiously.

"No. But I know that he is safe."

"How do you know?"

"Our souls are joined. As is yours and your father's. You feel a void. Do you not?"

Peter answered solemnly, "Yes."

"You and your father have a strong bond that cannot be broken. You are inexorably bound together."

"If that's the case, then why did he leave?"

"It is as he said, Peter. His path became obscured, clouded. A Shaolin Priest is nothing if he cannot see his true way. He was lost after his temple was destroyed. There had been a void in his life after he had lost you. He needed focus. When your father heard about the emperor, he concentrated on this task. It became his life work. Finding you complicated his goal and made him rethink his destiny."

The cut into Peter. "So, I complicated things..."

The Ancient held up his hand. "No. You did not complicate things. Your father did. He did not...uh...how you say...keep his head on a swivel."

Peter smiled at the use of his own term.

Lo Si continued. "He did not take in what was around him. His thoughts were only to help the emperor. He believed that was what would bring him peace. And when he discovered you, he became torn. He knew what he did since your reunion have hurt you, but he tried to...uh...wear two hats. The one of the father and the one of the Bodjaya. And when you felt neglected, he felt your pain. You could not hide it from him. Just like you cannot hide your fears from me now."

Peter stared at his hands. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Your father become consumed with helping Sing Ling. He was so focused that he found no nourishment elsewhere. Many people in his life tried to get him to settle down and live. But he could not. Not until he found you. It is difficult for someone to change after being focused on one task for fifteen years, Peter. You should know this very well."

What Lo Si said made sense finally. "I do," he said somberly. "I spent fifteen years avenging his death, taking it out into the streets. When we reunited, I didn't know what to do with my anger anymore. All these years I was mad. And I thought I was mad at Tan. But sometimes..." He was unsure if he should finish his thought, but he felt compelled to. "Sometimes I get so mad at him. For no reason. Even before he left six months ago." Tears welled up in his eyes. "I hate it. I hate myself for it."

"Lo Si placed his hand on Peter's shoulder. "It is normal," he said soothingly. "You are angry at what he represents... The pain of the last fifteen years."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut as the truth sliced through him. "I don't want to be mad at him." He sniffed. "Maybe that's why he went away. He felt my anger."

"He did. But that is not why he left."

Peter opened his eyes and looked at Lo Si earnestly. "Tell me why."

"He left because he had to deal with his own anger and confusion. He needed to redirect his path and relearn the Shaolin way. He had strayed, Peter. Strayed from his learnings. He needed to find his focus again. He needed to find his path once more. He needed to remember what it was like to be your father. He wanted to learn to be a father again. But he also needed to learn that you are no longer the child he once knew."

Peter took in the Ancient's words. "I wish I could be with him. I want so badly to help him."

"He knows that. Do not worry. You will see him soon. I promise you." The Ancient raised Peter's cup to him. "Now, would you like some tea?"

Peter took the cup and sipped. He jumped, his mouth feeling the strong burn as the liquid slid down his tongue. Too late to spit out the mixture, Peter coughed in reaction. "What is that? Hundred-proof...Earl Grey?" he rasped.

"Secret spice," the Ancient replied with a small smile. "Family recipe."

"Don't put a candle near that teapot," Peter said in an attempt at humor. The amusement didn't last, however as his thoughts drifted back to the nightmares...the deaths. He leaned forward, longing to be far away from the city, the killing, the despair. Wishing he was far away, just like his father was.

"You are troubled about these murders," the Ancient said knowingly.

Peter didn't bother to ask how the Ancient knew about the killings. It brought comfort to him that he didn't have to explain himself. It made it easier for him to talk about it. The old man helped to fill a void his father had left behind. Lo Si could never take the place of Caine, just like Paul could not, but their presence in his life meant a great deal. And now, the thought of losing them to the Shadow Assassins was too much to bear. Peter had to warn them.

I can't lose you too, he thought. I can't lose those I love. Not like I lost my father. As he explained his concerns and feelings to the old man, Peter said, "Everyone I touch is at risk." What would my father do? I wish he was here.

"He is here, Peter," the Ancient said softly.

"I know the Shadow Assassin is here." He could not sit still any longer. He had to find the enemy before anyone else got hurt. He had to find Paul. Peter rose to his feet and moved out of the apartment, bowing slightly to the Ancient. Time to act. I won't let them win. I won't!