A/N: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! And a happy Thursday to those of you who live outside the U.S.


The office of the Nantucket chief of police was small and cluttered. Eames had no trouble at all visualizing the burly man behind the desk on the deck of a whaling ship. Right now, he was thinking carefully about their request and the explanation for it. "And you think this missing woman is on our island, why?"

She wasn't certain he would buy her partner's hunch as a valid reason to search every abandoned building on the island. Quietly, Goren said, "Our investigation turned up evidence that the suspect brought her here."

"But to an abandoned building?"

Before Goren could answer, Eames read his frustration and said, "Do you really think any suspect would pop in to a bed and breakfast with a victim, chief?"

As the chief slowly nodded, accepting her argument with an amused smile, she chanced another look at her partner. The longer they were detained in the chief's office, the more restless he got, but she had to admit, he was holding it together admirably well.

Finally, the chief stood and walked to the door. "Lester! Come in here, please."

A few moments later, a gangly young man in a crisp uniform came into the room. "Yes, chief?"

"These are detectives from New York, Lester. They are investigating a kidnapping and have reason to believe their victim may have been brought here. They want to search the abandoned properties on the island, starting with the beach front areas. Go with them and show them where to look." Turning to Goren and Eames, he said, "Lester here has lived on the island all his life. He knows it better than any officer I have. Keep me informed, if you would."

After shaking hands with the young man who, to her, looked just like her mind pictured a man named Lester would look, Eames thanked the chief and promised to let him know what transpired. As they followed Lester from the building, she stepped up to her partner's side. "You all right?"

He was quiet as they stepped out into the cool autumn afternoon. Slowly, he shook his head and she lightly brushed her hand over his arm. He took a modicum of comfort from the gesture and gave her a brief, troubled smile. More and more she felt her frustrated jealousy slip away as she sensed him slipping further from her. She had to draw him back or there was a chance she would lose him forever. "Bobby," she said softly. "Trust me. We are going to find her."

He turned his head toward her. "Eames, you can't..."

A hand on his arm silenced his protest. "Yes, I can make that promise, because I am not going to accept any other outcome."

He drew in an uneven breath which he deftly covered with a cough. Then he retreated once more into himself, but Eames was satisfied that he had not gone as far as he had before. Ten steps ahead of them, Lester opened the driver's door of a blue and white Jeep Cherokee with 'Nantucket Police' on the door. "We'll start on the north end of the island and sweep to the south along the Atlantic side of the island, if that's okay with you folks."

With a glance at Goren, who nodded tautly, Eames replied, "That's fine, officer."

He grinned. "You can call me Lester," he answered. "Everyone on the island does."

Once they were in the vehicle, he pulled away from the curb and they began their search.


As the clock approached midnight and they stepped onto the porch from inside another empty building, Goren leaned against a railing and looked out across the stormy ocean. Eames watched him light a cigarette and she remained silent, understanding his frustration as well as knowing just how close he was to losing his tenuous grip on his control. Worry was pushing him to the edge, and her heart ached for him. Stepping up to his side, she laid a hand on his arm, surprised by the fine tremor that rippled beneath her fingers. He was much closer to the edge than she realized. "Are you hanging in there?" she asked softly, not even trying to mask the concern in her tone.

He shifted uneasily and looked at her. "Barely," he said, his voice strained.

Lester joined them. "The next one is about a half mile down the beach. Do you want to wait until morning to continue?"

"No," Goren snapped, and Eames tightened her grip on his arm. He drew in a deep breath and stubbed out the cigarette. "Sorry."

"Is there somethin' I oughta know?"

Shaking his head, Goren answered, "No. Let's go."

Pulling away from his partner, he stepped off the porch and headed for the Jeep. Lester looked at Eames, who was watching Goren with concern. Heading off the porch, she followed the big, brooding cop without saying a word. With a sigh, Lester trotted to the car and, starting the engine, headed south.


"This used to be a motel," Lester explained. "It shut down in the eighties. There's twenty rooms, so it'll take us more time to cover 'em all."

Goren nodded. "Let's get to it."

Cautiously, the three law enforcement officers began to check each room of the abandoned motel. Each doorknob turned; each door opened. Each room was empty. Every empty room added to Goren's frustration and contributed to a mounting despair within him. With the despair came anger, and he was glad Eames was elsewhere in the building. She would have picked up on it and the last thing he wanted was to take his temper out on her again. Since landing on the island, he had come to count on her to help him maintain his control. Without her, he would have lost it a long time ago.

He grasped another knob, twisted and pushed. Empty. Grasp, twist, push. Empty. Grasp, twist...hold on...the doorknob didn't move. "Eames," he called softly.

"What is it?" her voice came back, closer than he anticipated.

"Locked door," he replied.

Several long seconds later, she came into the circle of light cast by his flashlight, gun drawn. He drew his own weapon. "Ready?" he whispered.

She nodded. On the count of three, he kicked the door open. The rotted doorjam gave way and the door slammed open. He entered first, flashlight beam sweeping the room. It came to rest on the bed, and it was clearly apparent that someone was laying there. Shoving his gun into its holster, he rushed forward. Pulling his switchblade from his pocket, he sliced through the ropes that bound her wrists to the headboard. Absently closing the knife and sliding it back into his pocket, he lowered himself to the bed and slipped the blindfold and gag from her face, gently pulling her into his arms. "Denise?" he whispered.

Eames held the light on Denise's face, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief when she moved and groaned.

As she struggled through the fog of the last dose of sedative, Denise became aware of hands touching her and she began to struggle. Slowly it dawned on her blurry mind that her arms were free and so was her mouth. She began to swear and fight until the voice penetrated the fog and she recognized it. A man's voice, familiar...and well loved. "Bobby?" she gasped.

"Shhh..." he hushed, brushing her hair back from her face and gently kissing her. "You're safe."

"Oh, Bobby!" She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his broad chest. Only to him would she reveal her fears and she sobbed softly into his shirt.

Eames watched them, relieved beyond words as she watched the tension of fear fade from his body. Lester appeared beside her for a moment, disappeared and then returned. "There's an ambulance on the way," he whispered to her.

She nodded, keeping her eye on her partner as Denise relaxed in his arms, surrendering again to the sedatives still in her system. He continued to hold her until his phone rang. With great reluctance he eased her back onto the bed and stood to pull the phone from his pocket. "Goren," he muttered into it.

Very, very good, Bobby. You found her in time. Now there is one more minor detail to take care of. Leave your wife with your partner and head south on the beach for about a half mile. I'll be waiting for you.

Eames saw the sudden tension that reclaimed him and a lump formed in her gut. "Bobby?"

Leaning down, he kissed Denise, then he turned to his partner. The light from her flashlight made the fury on his face even more frightening than she knew it to be. "Take care of her, please," he murmured, pressing his phone into her hand. Before she could say a word, he was gone.

Recovering quickly, she swore passionately. "Lester," she growled. "Please stay with her and see her safely into the ambulance. I've got to back up my partner."

She ran out the door as Lester said, "I'll take care of her, detective."

By the time Eames emerged onto the porch, he was nowhere to be seen. "Son of a bitch!" she swore, charging off the porch into the sand. She looked up the beach and down, finally spotting a figure moving far down the beach to the south. She ran in that direction.

He ran to the south, concerned only with confronting Nicole and making her sorry for the grief she had caused his wife. His rage beat a pounding staccato in his head as his eyes scanned the beach for the diminutive figure of his most cunning adversary. The beach cut to the west and he followed it...and standing out on a jetty thrust like a finger out into the choppy sea was the woman he sought. He ran toward her.

Nicole Wallace was not stupid. She knew that in kidnapping Denise Rhodes she would invite the fury of the man who had married her, but she was possessed of a rage all her own. He got married. How dare he! That was something she had not planned on, although it had played into her plans rather well. She could not have asked for better bait to draw him to her. Not even that tiresome partner of his. She watched him approach and she got ready.

Eames continued to run down the beach, but her strides were nowhere near as distance-devouring as her partner's were. She had seen the rage in his eyes. She was afraid that would make him careless. Damn it, Bobby! she swore to herself, pushing herself harder when he disappeared from sight.

He drew to a stop, breathing heavily, several yards in front of her. He knew better than to get close, in spite of his fury. She smiled at him, the feral smile of a cunning predator. "Hello, Bobby."

"Why?" he demanded.

"Somehow, I don't think you would have come to my little party if I had simply sent an invitation."

"If you have harmed her..."

"Oh, relax. A little sedation is the worst I gave her. She will recover. Actually, I was quite nice to her, because she must be special to have captured your restless heart. And I owed her something for helping bring you to me." Her smile widened. "She's not a very talkative thing, Bobby. I couldn't get her to say a word about you."

He raised his hands. "What did you want to know that you haven't found out from me?"

"I wanted her perspective on life with you."

"She hasn't lived with me for most of the past year, Nicole."

Wallace studied him with interest. "Did you drive her away?" she asked, amused.

The taunt struck at his heart because he knew that it was true. But he also knew that he was winning her back, and that eased his pain. "I, um, I was dealing with my mother," he offered.

"Ah, yes. Mommy's gone now, isn't she? When did she pass away?"

"You know the answer to that."

"What a fitting birthday gift for you," she laughed.

"Look, Nicole. I'm tired of this game. It's time to end it."

She moved closer to him. "I quite agree, dear. It is time to end it."

He watched with suspicion as she held out her hands, as though she was expecting him to cuff her. He stepped back as she drew near. She looked surprised and held up empty hands. "What are you afraid of, darling?"

"Don't call me that," he growled.

Another laugh and she turned, walking down the jetty toward the sea. He followed. He had no intention of letting Nicole Wallace get away again.

Eames rounded the jag in the beach and saw the two figures out on the jetty. "Oh, my God," she breathed heavily. A sharp pain in her side brought her to her knees and she had to stop long enough to recover. It took only a few minutes, but in that time, she watched in horror as her partner followed his nemesis further out onto the jetty. "No, Bobby..." she pleaded.

She heard the sirens, and she knew it was more than just the ambulance. Lester had called his people for back up. "Thank you, Lester," she whispered as she struggled back to her feet. "Please, hurry," she pleaded as she resumed running toward the jetty.

As she arrived at the site where the jetty met the beach, two police cars pulled up, having spotted her running down the beach from the coast road. The chief stepped out of the closer of the two cars and she pointed toward the end of the jetty. "My...partner..." was all she could manage.

Nodding, the chief motioned to the two officers from the other car and the three of them ran down the jetty toward the sea. Eames followed. By the time she got there, the three Nantucket officers were alone. The chief's eyes were filled with deep regret. He shook his head. "There was no one here when we got here, Detective Eames."

Fear gripping her heart, Eames looked out across the restless sea. There was no sign of life anywhere in or on the ocean. With a quiet sob, she sank to her knees and whispered, "No..."