Chapter 2

"Anybody heard from Goren or Eames lately?" Ross asked the Detectives nearby in the squad room. Everyone shook their heads. He seemed perplexed by this. Ross returned to his office and tried to reach them by phone.

"Captain?" Jeffries said, knocking on his door. Ross put the phone down and looked up, waiting. "That guy Goren and Eames are looking for? Pait? He just turned up. Another sculpture in the park. He's the subject."

Ross hurried out to the bullpen. He called out to Logan and Wheeler. "Jeffries and I have a body," he told them. "You two find Goren and Eames." With that, the Captain and Detective Jeffries hurried out.


Alex stirred. She still felt terrible, but it seemed easier to breathe now. She slowly sat up and tried to get her bearings. They were no longer in the basement workshop. They were now in some kind of cage, some kind of room with a fenced gate for a door. There was low light in the room, and it was very quiet. She glanced around and saw Bobby lying very still on the floor. She hurried to his side and checked his pulse. He was alive, too.

All of her anxieties from her experience with Jo Gage were resurfacing. She was terrified to make a sound, but she wasn't alone this time. She was with Bobby, and she had to wake him. "Bobby," she whispered quietly. She dropped her hand to his chest. "Bobby, wake up," she commanded, but he remained still.

Alex sat back and rubbed her still aching head. In the next few minutes, she, too, would figure out what had happened, how Hagen had poisoned the air with carbon monoxide and protected himself with oxygen. She glanced around. At least he hadn't used the chemical restraint on them yet. They still had a chance. She gave Bobby another look. At least she didn't think Hagen would inject Bobby and not her.

Bobby wasn't ready to wake yet, so she explored their cell more carefully. She could see what must have once been a factory floor beyond them, and she could feel a slight chill in the air. Rubbing her arms, she wondered if this place even had heat. If not, they were in for a very rough night.

She checked her holster, and her pockets. Her registered weapon and her backup were both gone, as was her cell phone. She could see from the way his suit coat was lying that Bobby's glock was gone, too. Bobby didn't carry a backup. He always laughed and told a story about some rookie shooting himself in the nuts, and swore he'd never be that guy. Instead, he kept a switchblade in his pocket. It wasn't much of a weapon, but Bobby was a trained soldier, and he would know how to make it work for him. She rummaged through his pockets. His blade and his phone were gone, too.

He coughed and started to roll to his side, but she caught him with her hand. "Bobby," she whispered.

He groaned and sighed, his hands coming up to press against his face. Abruptly, he opened his eyes and stared at her. "We're not dead," he said.

She had to give him a grin. "Not yet," she told him.

"You okay?" he asked, sitting up with her help.

"Mostly. Probably the same as you." She looked him over. "He disarmed us, moved us to what looks like an abandoned industrial workshop. We're locked in, and it must be getting dark out, because it's cold in here."

Bobby got to his feet and swayed, catching his fingers in the fencing of the gate to steady himself. He held on with his left and smeared his right hand across his face.

"Give it some time," she told him. "It'll get better."

"He's… not here?" Bobby asked, scanning what he could see of the bare room outside their reach.

"Haven't seen or heard him yet," she said.

Shamelessly, Bobby grabbed himself in the crotch. "He didn't—"

"Apparently not," Alex said with a smile.

He removed his hand and scratched his head again. "I wonder why?"

"Who cares why? We still have a chance, Bobby."

Bobby shook his head and took a few shaky steps back into the cell. "He has other plans for us? Something different this time?"

"Well I don't plan to let him try anything," she said, and Bobby gave her a nod.


Ross and Jeffries finished up with Pait's body, and then checked in at the site with Logan and Wheeler.

"We've got a crime scene," Mike told them. "Evidence from the serial killings, and I'd bet anything Goren and Eames were here, too." Mike pointed to the twisted metal on the floor. "Somebody knocked these doors right out of their tracks."

"I'll bet we'll find that's Goren's blood on those. And these fibers, they could be from the suit he was wearing today."

"And we had to clear the air in here. I was here five minutes and got a headache. We brought in a CO detector and it went off like crazy." Mike nodded to the pellet stove. "The guy was putting some kind of chemicals in the fire. We're sending that off to the lab, too."

"Okay, so… assuming they're still alive, where did he take them?"

"The only person with access down here was the Super. I called and got people running background on Brad Hagen. Maybe by the time we get back, we'll have some idea of that." Wheeler was concerned about her fellow detectives, too, but she was very confident.

Ross looked around and frowned. "He knew we suspected Pait. There was no reason to let us find him like that, to leave his little… workshop, here…"

"Unless he's got something bigger planned for Goren and Eames," Jeffries said, and all of his colleagues glared at the sentiment.


"What happened to you?" Alex asked, just noticing the scratches on his hands.

"Oh, I uh… I busted down those doors at that other place… I guess the louvres caught me."

She nodded. It wasn't a big deal, just scratches. "You hurt anything else?"

"No, you know, I'm all right." The truth was he had some kind of bruise on his shoulder and his arm, but he wasn't of a mind to worry her. He could still move it at any rate.

She rubbed her temples. "This headache is sure getting old," she complained.

"Yeah," he agreed. They heard a door open at the far end of the building. They couldn't see anything yet, but they could hear the sounds of a garage door automatically lifting, and then of a vehicle driving in. The garage door closed with a slam and the vehicle drove in, very close to their cell.

It was an old Econoline van from the '70's. Navy blue. Hagen got out, set up a folding chair, then grabbed a bag from the front seat of the van. He sat down and brought a cheeseburger out of the bag, wafting it in the air as he spoke. "Oh, good. You're up," he said, and sat down in the chair to take a bite. "It's dinner time, I thought you might be hungry."

Both detectives stared at him, keenly aware of how hungry they were.

"So you came here to tease us with that?" Bobby finally asked.

"Oh, no. I don't believe in wasting food. I spent good money on these." He ate some more of the sandwich, happily.

"You want something from us then." Bobby continued.

Alex looked over at her partner. "I'd rather starve than appease you," she told Hagen.

Hagen ate another bite. The aroma of meat and melted cheese was filling their senses. "Suit yourself," he said. "But if you choose not to eat, then it's not murder, right?"

"What do you want from us?" Bobby asked, hoping they could eat something and stay alive a little longer. Alex threw him an angry look, but he brushed it off.

Hagen wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "I like to watch," he said.

Bobby added this to his mental profile of the man, this fascination with forbidden sex he seemed to have. And he knew it would be forbidden, two police partners…just as the young Christian boy's masturbation was taboo.

"Forget it, Bobby," Alex said. "He'd get his rocks off and not feed us afterward, anyway."

Bobby tilted his head. "She has a point. When could we eat?"

"Hell, you could eat during, if you want to. Yes. I think I'd like to see that." Hagen chuckled, and the sinister sound made both their stomachs turn.

"It's too cold in here, anyway," Goren said. "Gotta have heat to… you know…"

The old man stood, waving the bag closer to their noses once more. Then he tossed it on the chair and grabbed something else out of the van. A blanket. One full size blanket for the two of them to share.

"I thought you might be opposed to a fire," Hagen said, "though it is very romantic."

Alex spewed a few obscenities in his direction. She walked away from the gate, planning just what she would do, how she would attack, if he opened it.

Bobby grinned. "What do we have to do to get the blanket?"

"Kiss. With tongue."

"Forget it," was Alex's kneejerk reaction.

Bobby, however, was being practical. For the price of a kiss, the guy would have to risk opening the gate. And with an open gate came a chance at freedom. He looked at her. "Eames… I'm not that repulsive."

She almost bucked back at him, but she saw something in his eyes, and her mind made the same rationalizations his just had. She walked forward, arms folded, and leaned toward him.

"No, no, no, you can't do it with your arms folded like that. It has to be convincing." He turned to Goren. "Unless you want to… force her to… that could be fun."

Alex immediately dropped her arms, and she saw the look on his face, asking permission. They grasped hands gingerly, and without moving his eyes from hers, Goren spoke to Hagen. "You know, if you back out on this deal, we'll know not to trust you."

"I don't intend… to back out. This is a nice, warm, blanket here." He watched with interest as the two moved closer to each other. They paused, their lips not yet touching. "Remember, with tongue!" he cried.

The command interrupted their momentum, and they both had to take a minute to regain their resolve. Again, they drifted slowly closer, and touched lips together. The first touch was only a test, and so they kissed again, this time opening their mouths. By the third attempt, they managed to French kiss.

Bobby pulled away and turned immediately to their captor, letting go of his partner. The man chuckled wildly, and instead of reaching for the lock on the gate, he walked away, his back to them. He grabbed a gun out of the van and walked back, aiming it at Eames.

"Stand back away from the gate," he ordered in a nasty voice.

Both Goren and Eames stepped back, but Goren measured his stride and tried to keep within two paces of it.

"Farther back, now!" Hagen ordered. "All the way against the wall!"

Sadly, they did as they were told. He kept the gun aimed steadily at Eames and never once tried to threaten Goren with it.

"Now, turn around."

They slowly turned their backs to him.

"Nose and toes against the plaster. Do it!" He paused while they did as he asked. "Now put your hands deep in your pockets. That's it, that's right. All the way." Satisfied that they were in position, he called out as he withdrew his keys. "In case you're wondering, the gun's still aimed at her head. It's not moving. Either of you tries anything and she's dead."

He opened the gate, threw in the blanket and slammed it shut. Then he stepped away, cackling. Bobby and Alex turned back toward their captor, disappointed. Bobby leaned down and retrieved the blanket. He put it over Alex's shoulders with an apologetic shrug.


DNA results had come back, verifying it was Goren's blood on the doors. All of Major Case was on it now. Ross downed his fifth cup of coffee and looked up at the clock. It was nearly one a.m.

Jeffries rushed in. "He has a tenant who used to work at the psych ward in Bellevue. The guy said he thought his ID was stolen. He was just about to report it and pay for a new one, and then he found his sitting out in the open on his counter."

"Bellevue missing any droperidol?"

"Not missing, per se, but there were a few bottles dispersed to this tenant of Hagen's. He swears he didn't do it."

"Lab results on the contents of the pellet stove," Logan announced, waving them in the air before reading the pertinent part to the captain. Traces of formic acid and sulfuric acid. A recipe for carbon monoxide."

"Fine. I'm satisfied we can nail the guy. Now where the hell is he? And where are my detectives?"

Wheeler piped in, handing the Captain a printout. "We checked his extended family. He has a brother in Queens who reported his old clunker of a van stolen."

"A 1977 Econoline? Who the hell would steal one of those?"

"You mean besides a horny teenager?" Mike quipped.

"We revised the APB to include the van," Wheeler said.

Ross looked around at his staff. "Anybody have any leads on where he took them in this historical vehicle?"

Jeffries spoke. "Winters is trying to track the van in Queens. Given the timeline, he could be anywhere within a 200 mile radius of there."


They were close together under the blanket, and it was still cold. Eames, who had very little body fat, was shivering.

Bobby adjusted his position to put his arms around her. She pulled away. "Don't, Bobby. Don't give the bastard what he wants." He'd set up a camera on them before he'd left for the night, hoping that they would find a way to comfort each other in the cold. Alex was keenly aware that she was being recorded.

"It's not about sex, Eames. It's survival. You need to stay warm and so do I. Don't think about the camera."

Reluctantly, she acquiesced. She regretted what had happened earlier, but she was glad they had a blanket. She couldn't imagine how cold she would be without it. He wanted to see them naked in return for the food, and they had refused. For now, for today, it was the right thing to do. But both Eames and Goren knew that they would need food and water before long. If they were still captive, they would need to do whatever it takes to survive.

"Bobby, can you hear me?" She whispered quietly. What she had to say, she didn't want picked up on the recording.

"What?"

Alex rolled over in his arms and moved her lips as close to his ear as she could. She whispered, "Move your hand up to hide my mouth."

He did as she said. Bobby tried not to be distracted by her hot breath against his ear.

"We can come up with a code word, a signal. If he's aiming the gun at me, we just time it right, and I can drop while you go after him. We can do it, Bobby, we just have to plan carefully."

"I don't wanna take that risk."

"It's my risk to take, not yours."

"Eames, there's no reason to risk your life."

"Not yet, you mean. Once he pokes us with a needle, we're goners, Bobby and you know it. We don't have much time here."

"He's playing it differently this time. He's trying to get us to put on a show for him."

"He might have done it with the others; we don't know…"

"No, he didn't. He would have left something… behind. He makes art because he wants people to see it, to appreciate his… talent. If he had recorded the others, he would have left it for us to find."

"So then why us?"

"It's… it's… forbidden, just like masturbation with the last victim. It's forbidden sex."

"If we give him what he wants, he'll be ready to kill us."

"If we don't give him what he wants, we'll die, too. The trick is to string him along as long as we can."

"And avoid the needle." Alex adjusted her position and managed to move in closer. Their cheeks were pressed together, and she tried to keep her body from responding to his musky warmth. "Humor me, Bobby. Give me a code word and a plan."

"I don't want to."

"I only mean as a last resort. Please."

Hearing her whispered plea in his ear was more powerful than she could have imagined. He shifted slightly, and her body nestled smoothly against his. His cock twitched, and he swallowed, hoping she hadn't felt it. "Okay, uh… how about…uhm… this is it?"

"That's it?"

"No, this is it."

"I mean that's what you're going to say?"

"Yeah, I'll say… 'this is it.'"

"Okay, and then we'll both give a three second count, and then we move."

"'Mississippi' seconds or 'one thousand' seconds?"

"Why does that matter?"

"It does. The rhythm… we have to be totally in sync."

"Okay, Mississippi."

"Okay."

Eames had finally managed to stop shivering. Their conversation over, he brushed his hand back against her hair and they managed a fitful sleep. The only comfort each had was the warmth of the other.