Hello everybody! Here's chapter 6... Hope you'll like it.

One more time, a big thanks to your kind reviews and Cynically Optimistic's help and comments!

Disclaimer : I don't own anything.

CHAPTER SIX

40 HOURS MISSING

23 HOURS MISSING (?)

Samantha repressed a shudder as they walked towards the cinema club building whose modern architecture contrasted deeply with the ancient and classical main edifices of the university. The day before, Jack and she had joked pleasantly about the mad architect who had thought that this bunker made of concrete and glass would suit such an environment. 'An authentic wart on the nose', were the words Jack had used to describe it, which had almost made her spit out the instant coffee she had been sipping carefully as they strolled lazily in direction of the cinema club.

However, now, the lazy steps of the day before were replaced by an anxious and hurried walk. The two agents crossed the park without paying any attention to the students lounging on the grass, enjoying the autumnal sun, playing an improvised ballgame in the park or running along the stoned paths to attend to a class. The beauty and serenity of the ancient edifices and the tasteless modern buildings were not the object of jokes or impressed comments anymore. That was before the sinister encounter in the corridor. That was before the discovering of the tape. All that mattered to them now was discovering what was going on here. This was the only focus of their minds, an obsession almost which had become a mental shield against the horror they had witnessed in the morning. Instinctively, Samantha walked closer to her companion so that their shoulders were slightly brushing, seeking comfort and strength in his warm presence. When he opened the door for her, his hand on her back gently accompanying her, the young woman could not help but think that the sharp contrast between this cinema club and the rest of the university was not only architectural, as they had innocently thought the day before, but symbolic as well. A horrible place where horrible events happened, this was the way she was beginning to imagine the building.

Aware of Samantha's unspoken apprehension as they entered the main hall of the building, Jack let his hand linger on her back longer than necessary. Given the present circumstances, he was far beyond caring about what strangers thought of an older FBI agent patting his young and pretty co-worker's back. He didn't give a damn, in fact. All he wanted was to protect her from the turmoil that was harassing her. Still, as much as this feeling was sweetly overwhelming, deep inside, he knew that they had reached the point of no return. Whatever the outcome of the case would be, they would not be able to pretend their relationship was just an affair anymore. They needed each other too much to be just an affair; and that was frightening. It was frightening because, deep inside, he was beginning to realize that he was being torn apart between two opposite and irreconcilable ends, that he would not be able to wear this two-faced mask of a lover and a father forever. One day he would have to choose a face and leave the other one aside. Nonetheless, for the moment, he didn't want to make the choice yet. He needed his girls and he needed her, it was as simple as that; and as long as he could contain the guilt, he selfishly wanted to keep both sides.

…/…

Both Vivian and Danny were standing in the corridor of the interrogation rooms, silently studying the young men they had summoned earlier in the morning. Jack had decided that making the two owners of this particular model of cam-corder come all the way to the FBI offices in the city could help to identify a potential suspect. The two agents agreed, hoping that, if the creator of the videotape was one of them, he would betray himself more easily in the cold and official environment of the FBI interrogation rooms than in the familiar setting of the university.

For the moment, the young men were sitting in separate rooms, waiting for the agents. The first one, Jeremy Wallace, had been the president of the cinema-club for three years and was also a member of the university's football team. A vicious wound on his eyebrow seemed to be a fresh memory of the last game he had played. Tall, muscular, the guy shifted regularly on his chair, maybe out of nervousness, maybe because his sore muscles didn't authorize him to stay motionless for too long.

The second one, Alex Miller, was also a member of the cinema-club. He was the one who had offered to drive his friend to New York City. His face betrayed nothing but genuine concern. Danny studied him a few minutes longer. The record he was holding told him that the guy had been at the university for four years and studied philosophy. The cinema-club was just a hobby for him, contrary to Jeremy Wallace who was an aspirant movie director. Neither of them had a police record. Both seemed to be model citizens. Finally deciding to make a move, the younger agent whispered,

"What do you think? What don't you take mister top-model while I deal with mister jock?"

Somewhat relieved to see a glimpse of the old Danny again, Vivian nodded in acceptance, not without commenting mischievously,

"And thank you for your observations, Agent Taylor."

…/…

"Wait a minute... What did you just say?" Samantha asked incredulously, not sure she had understood correctly. This was a complication they simply didn't need. A complication they didn't need especially after the horrible discovery of the videotape, especially when they thought they had found a lead. If what the curious young student in front of her had just told her was right, the already difficult and frustrating investigation would become almost impossible.

"Well, as I just said, we can't show you this cam-corder now since it was stolen a few weeks ago. And, because of its price, we haven't been able to replace it yet," the student answered as calmly as she could. Clearly, as far as the treasury was concerned, this particular subject was a sore spot for the cinema-club. Then, obviously relaying the same response she had given repeatedly since the incident, she continued. "Of course we called the police, did some research ourselves and hoped that the guy's guilty conscience would make him realize what he or she did... But no such luck." She paused, as if waiting for Samantha to make a sympathetic comment about how dishonest some people could be. Seeing that the young agent wasn't willing to comment on anything, she added, shaking her head with disapproval. "You can imagine Jeremy's anger when he discovered that the cam-corder had been stolen... He threw a chair through this window, you see... As if the lost of the cam-corder wasn't enough..."

Samantha bit her lips out of frustration. She wasn't here to listen to some student's bitter rambling about the loss of five thousand dollars or the president's lack of self-control. Trying to appear as sympathetic as she could, the young woman gave the student her softest smile and attempted to redirect the conversation in the way she wanted.

"I understand your frustration perfectly, Ms Griffith. But I have some more specific questions I need to ask you. As I'm sure you're aware, the simplest detail can be crucial in that kind of investigation."

The rambling student looked up at her sheepishly, as if ashamed of having forgotten the point of the interview. Now Samantha had her whole attention once again.

"So, you told me that the cam-corder had disappeared probably during the second week of August, is that right?" the agent repeated calmly.

"Yes, that's correct," was the simple answer she received.

"Who was the last member of the club who borrowed it?"

The student looked through her files for a second before replying.

"Um… that was Janice Logan. She needed it for the short-movie she was making during the summer vacation."

"Did Alex Miller or Jeremy ever borrow it?" was the next question.

"Mmmh, let me check..." The student turned a page, frowning. "Well, Miller never borrowed it, which isn't surprising since he bought one a few days after the club bought the cam-corder. Jeremy used it the first week to explore the possibilities of the machine, and I'm quoting his own words. Then, since he planned to work on a scenario during the vacations then start filming at the end of August, he didn't need it."

Samantha couldn't help but smile at the girl's precision.

"Now, I can understand his anger..." she commented gently. Then, using her professional tone one more time, she asked her last question.

"Do you know if Erin Brooke happened to have contact with Jeremy or Alex?"

"Well, as far as I know, Jeremy and Erin don't speak much. I mean, Jeremy plans to be a movie director, to do something with his hands while Erin is pretty much someone who analyses everything in its merest details. In a nutshell, they have a very different vision of film. They're not here for the same reasons. They just sort of know each other, I think. Then, with Alex..." she stopped for a second, not sure if this piece of information was relevant or not. Samantha noticed her hesitation and smiled encouragingly.

"Alex?"

"Well, maybe it's just a rumour but I heard that she and Alex were dating."

Samantha raised a surprised eyebrow.

"I thought she was dating Kenny Williams..."

"That's what I thought, too. But a guy from the club told me he had seen Alex and Erin talking in whispers, hidden in the men's bathroom but I didn't believe him. The guy is real gossip, you know?" she answered with a shrug. Obviously, the young woman didn't buy this "Alex and Erin together" story at all.

Samantha decided to dig further. Maybe there was a lead down here, after all.

"Why didn't you believe it?"

"First, she's always with Kenny. Then, Alex isn't her type, I'm sure. She's too smart to fall for that kind of guy," she replied. When she noticed that the agent in front of her waited for an explanation, she continued. "Smart, handsome but shallow, spoiled rich kid, you know what I mean?"

Samantha finished writing down this last piece of information, closed her note-pad firmly and looked up at the student.

"Yeah..."

"So, what's your impression of Alex Miller?"

Danny enquired as he joined his co-worker in the bullpen. As far as he was concerned, the interview of Jeremy Wallace didn't get him anywhere and he had the growing feeling that he had lost vital minutes interrogating the guy. In spite of his obvious and understandable discomfort at the idea of being inside an FBI interrogation room, the student seemed to be perfectly clean, which a quick call to Samantha in New Haven had confirmed. In a nutshell, the guy had bought a cam-corder for the cinema club with his own credit card and didn't know anything more than the student his friend had just interrogated. Moreover, more important even, the horrified expression that had covered his face when Danny had brought up the content of a particular videotape and its possible ramifications for the cinema-club had definitely convinced the young agent that Jeremy Wallace wasn't their suspect.

"Besides that I don't like him?" Vivian replied without stopping reading the report on her computer. "Nothing much… He doesn't know anything, didn't hear anything, kindly brought his own cam-corder for our attention, didn't mind coming all the way to New York City, sincerely hopes that we'll find Erin soon. In a nutshell, the perfect citizen…"

"But you don't like him," Danny repeated curiously, arching an eyebrow, as he leant back in his chair. Vivian scarcely uttered that kind of subjective comment. He would, often, as well as Samantha and Jack, but Vivian hardly ever. She was the logical mind of the crew, their touch stone when they began to follow their instincts too blindly. From this standpoint, what she had just said was kind of out of character. Maybe was it a sign that she was also cracking under the pressure? Or was it anything else? Compelled to find out, the young agent pushed further.

"What makes you say that, Viv'?"

A deep sigh escaped his friend's lips as she turned back to face him, her current work forgotten.

"I just got the impression that this guy is too good to be true. He didn't flinch once during the whole interview, happily answered every question without hesitating. Then, when Jack called me to fill me in with the results of their investigation in New Haven, and I learnt a few things that this Miller guy just neglected to mention," she explained calmly.

"Like what?"

"Like he has tried repeatedly to seduce Erin for the last few months – with no success, I might add." Then looking her co-worker straight in the eyes, she added in a whisper, as if not quite believing she was thinking that. "Maybe I'm sounding too much like Jack, but I just got the impression that this guy's whole behaviour is just an act…"

…/…

The young man opened his eyes slowly but found nothing but utter darkness.

"Where the hell am I?"

His whole body was aching. He tried to move his fingers first, then his arms. The pain in his right arm was just bearable. He proceeded slowly, moving his head from left to right, checking his neck. It seemed okay except for the burning in his throat, where the guy's hands had strangled him until he lost consciousness. Finally, brushing his long hair out of his face, he tried to stand up. He cried out in agony.

"Oh my God, my God…" he whispered plaintively again and again.

Some ribs were broken, he was sure.

Little by little, his eyes got used to the lack of light and the absence of his glasses, and he began to discover the room he was secluded in. A single door on the right. Concrete walls. Cold and dusty atmosphere.

"Must get out of here…"

Clenching his teeth against the pain, trying to ignore the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, the young man stood up and began his unsteady progression towards the door, leaning heavily against the wall.

…/…

"I must escape. Escape."

Erin ran for her life along the deserted corridors, her hands compulsively squeezing the videotape against her chest. She violently pushed another door open and rushed into a darkened room. In this safe but fugitive haven, she rested a few seconds, waiting for her shaky breathing to become steadier. The videotape literally burnt her skin through her clothes, and for a moment, she was tempted to just dump it in the nearest garbage can and run away from it as far as possible. However, she couldn't do this. Not after… She waited for a few seconds more, listening intently to her surroundings, her whole body shaking from fright and exhaustion, her pupils dilated like those of a hounded animal. A few seconds more and she gasped, utter panic threatening to paralyze her entire body. Footsteps, she just heard footsteps approaching.

"Oh my God… He's coming…"

Without thinking, she rushed out of the room and resumed her frantic flight. However, in her haste to escape, she failed to notice the student strolling lazily along the corridor. They violently collided, making both of them fall to the ground in the process. Ignoring his shocked cries of protest, she reached out for the videotape and started running again.

"So you're saying Erin was holding something the day she ran into you?" Jack repeated, trying to focus on what the young man in front of him was actually saying, and not on what his imagination was creating against his will.

"Yeah, I can even tell it was a videotape," the student recalled. "She totally seemed freaked out, y'know," he added, shaking his head.

"When did this event occur?" the agent enquired without looking up from his notepad.

"Well, in early September, I'd say. I'm not sure."

"Right… Did you see what or who she was running from?"

"No, I'm sorry," he answered, uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other. The student nervously ran his hand through his dishevelled blonde hair, hesitating, it seemed, over whether to continue. He finally took a deep breath and went on. "Listen… I was stuck at home with the flu until this morning so I wasn't aware of what was going on here. I hope I'm not telling you this too late."

Jack looked up from his notepad and studied the young man. All he found was genuine concern and regret. His pale face and brilliant eyes were the ones of someone just recovering from a severe fever. Trying to sound as hopeful as he could, the agent replied gruffly:

"All I can say, Mr Johansen, is that your testimony is very helpful."

Jack didn't find it necessary to add that what the young man had just said would probably help them understand what might have happened to Erin. But chances were that it would not help them find her alive.