A/N: Sorry it's taken me a little longer to get this one up - I've had a hard time with this chapter for some reason; hope it doesn't disappoint. I need to reiterate that Gus is NOT harmed in this fic in case you are worried. Hope you'll let me know what you think - thanks as always for reading and especially reviewing.:)


"What the fuck's going on here?" Brian growled suspiciously as he noticed a group of people crowded into his office. He immediately recognized Horvath and Rogers, who were huddled around someone seated with his back to him in one of his rickety, wooden office chairs that had long ago outlived their usefulness; next to the man in the chair was a slender brunette woman who was squatted next to him and was holding onto his hand while she quietly murmured some sort of soothing words next to his ear.

He frowned as the man in the chair covered his face with his hands in response to his question; the young woman held onto his knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze as she looked up at Brian in annoyance.

"Brian," Carl said to him as he stood up abruptly, looking strangely uncomfortable for some reason. He glanced over at his lieutenant. "That will be all, Rogers," he said, staring pointedly at his subordinate in dismissal. "And nothing goes beyond this office, do you understand me, or I'll have your badge, got it? And tell Satterwhite we are NOT to be disturbed for any reason."

The skinny man swallowed; he still didn't really have any idea what was going on, but from the stern look on his boss' face, it appeared to be quite serious. Even if he did want to spread some type of gossip, he didn't really know enough to be able to do so anyway; the whole episode was surreal. One thing he did understand, though, was that his job was on the line.

"Uh, yeah, Sarge, I understand," he said haltingly as he nodded. He gave Brian one quick cursory glance as well before he quickly strode out of the room, actually relieved to be away from whatever melodrama was playing out. He didn't really know Kinney very well – the cocky detective had a habit of sticking to himself most of the time and always liked to skirt around the rules everyone else had to adhere to – but he knew enough to know the man was somewhat peculiar and pig-headed; he was glad to not get involved, then, with whatever was going on.

After Rogers had left, Horvath looked over at his detective with concern. "Come on in and shut the door," he told him quietly. Carl had no way of knowing whether this frightened, apprehensive young man sitting near him was right about their being another victim – and it being Brian's son – but just in case he had to prepare him….The only question was, how do you prepare someone for something like this?

Brian looked from the worried face of his sergeant over to the brown-haired young woman staring up at him curiously and frowned; just what in the hell was going on? He had never seen the woman before, but she had this odd mixture of both contempt and sympathy on her face as she stared back at him. As he walked farther into his office, however, and shut the door behind him, he finally got a look at who the other man was and his eyes narrowed in wariness. "Taylor," he said suspiciously as he placed one hand on the side of his desk and turned to face him; at the sound of his voice, Justin slowly removed his hands and peered up nervously at Brian; there were noticeable streaks of tears and a look of anguish on his face.

"Brian," he whispered painfully, his voice choked with emotion. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry, so sorry….." he kept repeating the words over and over again like some horrible mantra as he bit his lip to try and keep any more tears from falling. He had thought before that these constant dreams of children being kidnapped and killed couldn't get any worse, but he had been wrong. Before, as horrendous as it was, it hadn't been personal, he hadn't known anything about the children; now, though, he knew much more than he ever wanted to.

Brian shook his head in aggravation; he was getting tired of Justin's over-the-top attempts at an Oscar performance. "Sorry about what?" he demanded as he looked over at Horvath for help. "This bullshit is really getting old, Sarge," he growled. Why was Horvath continuing to let this man have an audience with them? They either needed to charge the guy with something or quit giving him so much attention, which obviously he was relishing in.

Daphne's eye flashed with irritation, despite her realization that this detective that had been hounding Justin relentlessly lately was about to find out something dreadful. But Horvath held his hand up in warning just before Daphne tried to defend her friend; he knew he needed to be the one to tell him….. "Brian, have you heard from your son lately?" he inquired urgently.

Brian sat down on the edge of his desk and eyed his boss in puzzlement, his long legs crossed together at the ankles and his hands folded across his chest. "Well, he's a little young yet for long, drawn-out philosophical conversations with me, but yes, he spent the night with me last night and I dropped him off at school earlier this morning before I came into work. What the fuck does that have to do wi….." The sentence died on his lips as he looked down at Justin's sorrowful face and remembered his words of regret; a sudden, terrifying thought came unbidden to his mind as he noticed the blond averting his eyes from him now…... No….

"You're not suggesting….you're not trying to say…..," he struggled to get the words out as horror began to permeate every nerve in his body while he tried furiously to tamp the gnawing sense of worry down in the pit of his stomach. He refused to believe what his gut was telling him as all eyes focused on him. Gus is fine – he's fine; there's one way to nip this in the bud now….

He quickly reached inside his jacket pocket and flipped his cell phone open just as he heard his landline phone buzzing. Torn between needing to check on his son and wanting to know who was disturbing their meeting against his boss' strict instructions, he finally walked around his desk and snatched up the other phone, realizing instinctively that it had to be important. "Yeah!" he growled impatiently.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Detective," he heard Satterwhite saying. "But this woman on the other end said it was an emergency and she sounds really upset."

Brian's heart dropped in his throat as he glanced down at Justin, who had his head lowered in his hands as the young woman placed her slender hand on Justin's back and began to gently caress it.

He took a deep breath before speaking. "Kinney."

He could barely recognize the voice of his long-time friend on the other end as she screamed out his name and a torrent of words came rushing out.

"Lindsey, Lindsey….slow down, I can't understand a word you're saying! What's going on?"

"Brian!" she said breathlessly, her voice breaking. "It's…..it's Gus! He's missing! God, you've got to help find him, Brian! Oh, my God! I can't believe this is happening!"

Brian's face went pale. "No…." he whispered. He took another breath before managing to ask, "You're at the school?"

"No, but I'm on my way there! They just called to tell me he was at recess a few minutes ago and just disappeared! Oh, my God, Brian! Where is he? We've got to find him! If something's happened to him…."

Brian briefly closed his eyes as all sort of frightening thoughts entered his mind. "Calm down, Linds, calm down – we'll find him. I'm on my way – I'll meet you there. Try not to worry." As he quickly hung up the phone, however, he couldn't take his own advice; he was absolutely terrified. His face darkened in fury and his heart hammered in his chest as he looked over at Justin. "You! You've got something to do with this, don't you?" He attempted to walk over toward Justin, not sure exactly what he wanted to do but feeling like he wanted to choke the living daylights out of him to get some truthful answers. "If something has happened to my son….."

Carl, who had had no problem overhearing Lindsey's part of the conversation, quickly grabbed his arm and pinned him against his chest just in time as Brian thrashed out violently; Justin visibly flinched as Daphne protectively placed her arms around her friend to shield him, even though she knew she would be no match for the man's strength. "Brian! Stop it!" Horvath reprimanded him. "We don't have time for this, damn it! Every minute here is critical for your son! I'll explain what's going on in the car – let's go!"

"But he knows where he is!" Brian snarled as Justin's eyes filled with tears again and he mutely shook his head no. "He's got to know! Why else is he here?"

"We don't know that!" Horvath hissed. "We don't have to time for this! I'll explain in the car!" he repeated. "Come on!"

Brian's chest was heaving with deep anger as he continued to struggle for several seconds until his cop sense kicked in and he realized Carl was right; he had to find his son – that was what was most important for now. Gus…Oh, God, not Gus….

He roughly wrenched himself away from his boss as he stared down at Justin. "Okay, okay," he said, straightening his jacket as he yanked at the hem. "Let's go."

Justin took a deep breath as he stood up, not sure what to do; Brian quickly wagged a finger in front of his face. "No fucking way!" he snarled. "You're not going anywhere! You're under arrest!"

Daphne couldn't take it any longer as Justin shrunk back in alarm from Brian's tirade. She quickly stood up to block his exit. "You asshole – he's trying to help you!" she yelled, her eyes flashing in anger as she stared up defiantly into the darkened eyes. "It's possible there's still time! Don't you understand? Justin had nothing to do with this!"

"Get out of my fucking way!" Brian bellowed as he physically shoved her to the side; Justin barely managed to catch her fall with his arm as he quickly grabbed her wrist.

"Enough!" Carl yelled, fed up with the confrontations. "They're coming with us, Kinney, no arguments! End of discussion! We don't have time for this, Brian! Go!" he commanded, physically pushing the stubborn, irate detective out of his office. He would have to try and explain to Brian what was going on while they were on their way to his son's school, even though he was almost at a loss as much as Brian was; he still didn't quite understand Taylor's peculiar role in all this, but he knew this young artist was critical to the case. Just before he followed the others out of Kinney's office, keeping a watchful eye on Justin and his friend, he quickly snatched up the blond's portfolio to take with them, somehow knowing it would be needed, and flipped his cell phone open to summon several other police cars to accompany them to Brian's son's school as backup.

Brian didn't even look back to acknowledge Justin and the unidentified, feisty brunette hanging onto his arm behind him; he guessed it must be Taylor's roommate; of course she would be defending her friend. As he rushed down the hall toward the precinct garage, he tried desperately not to jump to conclusions; he refused to believe that his son wouldn't be found safe and sound, that it would all be some sort of misunderstanding…deep down, though, his police sense told him better but he refused to acknowledge it.

Carl reached over to grab Justin's wrist as the three of them struggled to keep up with the long-legged detective. "This way," he instructed them as Brian rushed around the corner at a dead run, not caring if the others kept up or not; the only focus he had at the moment was on his son's well-being. They somehow managed to keep an eye on Brian as he made a beeline for a nondescript, black sedan assigned to him in the parking garage. Yanking the door open and quickly getting in, the three others barely had enough time to climb inside before Brian slapped the portable, flashing police light on top of the car, started the engine and jammed the vehicle into drive, the tires screeching as he sped out of the garage toward the main road and on toward his son's school located approximately five miles away. His hands tightly gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension as he concentrated on reaching the elementary school in record time; he lay on the horn several times as he approached each intersection, not even slowing down as the other passengers prayed the oncoming traffic was paying enough attention to avoid colliding with them.

Brian glanced in the rear-view mirror as he drove, noticing the blond in the back seat biting his lip nervously as he looked out the window, seemingly lost in thought, his friend clutching onto his forearm in compatriot silence. He breathed out an anxious huff of breath, unable to keep his son's welfare out of his mind, as he turned to his superior. "Okay, Carl…..Now tell me what the fuck is going on here!" he spat out, his voice quiet but hard as steel. "What does he have to do with this?"

Carl sighed. "He showed up about a half hour ago and told Satterwhite he needed to see me. Rogers was taking him back to my office when he became upset, apparently after he glanced inside your office and saw a picture of your son. I got to your office just in time to hear him say that your son was the next victim when YOU showed up. That's about all I know at the moment; I didn't think we had time for him to go into details."

To everyone's surprise, he heard Justin unexpectedly speak up. "I'm right here, you know; you're talking like I'm not even here."

Brian stared at the defiant blue eyes in his rear-view window. "The only thing I'm interested in hearing you say is what you've done to my son. I swear to God, Taylor, if you or your fucking accomplice have touched one hair on his head, I'll rip you from limb to limb!"

"Leave him alone!" Daphne snapped as Justin looked like he had been struck. "He's only trying to help you! Why can't you see that?"

"By kidnapping my son? Is this your way of taking out revenge for my treatment of you the other day?"

"No! I'm not involved with any of this!" Justin shot back in a choked voice of reprehension at even the thought of being involved with such a heinous crime. "God! What will it take to convince you of that?"

"Enough, enough!" Carl shouted. "No one's going to go anywhere until we get to the bottom of this whole thing, and we're going to find your son, Brian," he told his detective firmly; he knew how much Brian loved his son, and he realized he was lashing out partly due to helplessness and fear. He only wished he could be as confident internally that this situation would turn out positively; the reality was, though, if Brian's son's disappearance was tied to the Paper Hearts Killer and he followed his standard M.O., they had a window of approximately 24 hours to find the boy before it would be too late. He knew Brian was well aware of that, too, having been the chief detective investigating the murders. That was one of the few similarities or patterns with this killer; for some as of yet discernible reason, the killer apparently kept his victim alive for approximately one day before he killed and dumped them. Thank God as of yet, none of them had show any signs of being sexually abused, but he knew that was little comfort to Brian at the moment.

Carl reached down on the floor to pick up Taylor's portfolio; he halfway turned around in his seat to see Justin eyeing him cautiously. "I'm assuming you wanted to show me something in here." Justin licked his lips nervously and nodded; he had been anxious enough before at the thought of showing his latest sketch to the sergeant and his brash, cynical detective. Now that he knew the boy he had envisioned was actually Brian's son, however, he was terrified of the other man's reaction to seeing it.

"Care if I look at it, Son?" Carl asked him. He knew he would have authority to look at it anyway, seeing as if it was part of an ongoing murder investigation, but something made him ask anyway. He still couldn't quite figure out how this young artist could have a gift of premonition regarding the murders, but the more he was exposed to this young man, and the more he saw his reactions to what was happening, the more he was becoming convinced that he really was innocent of any wrongdoing. Either that or he was the most gifted actor in the world.

He noticed Brian looking at him out of the corner of his eye as he undid the snap and slowly slid out the portfolio, flipping through various pages of still lifes and candid shots; Taylor was extremely talented and artistically gifted – even with his untrained eye, there was no question of that. He kept leafing through the pages until he came to the sketch that Taylor undoubtedly was bringing in to show them before all hell had broken loose. "My God," he whispered, as he studied the photo of a little dark-haired boy who was the spitting image of Brian's son, Gus. There could be no doubt who this boy was, nor could there be any question that if Justin's sketch was accurate, the boy hadn't just wandered off from school; he was in great danger.

Brian couldn't resist peering over at the sketch that had caught his sergeant's attention; as he did so, his eyes almost popped out of his head as he instantly recognized the beautiful, curious face of his son; he had that typical look he always got when he was enthralled by whatever he was seeing or hearing. His face was aglow and his eyes were lit up with excitement; his mouth was turned up into a smile of innocent, absolute delight. What made his heart fill with horror, though, was the hulking, vague shadow of someone looming over him from in front, one pudgy hand outstretched toward him in sinister invitation. "Shit!" he growled; not sure whether to be more terrified at the thought of his son being harmed or furious at whoever was responsible for it.

"Look out!" Horvath shouted as Brian tore his gaze away from the drawing and looked back to the road just in time to avoid hitting a large, black metal streetlamp at the next street corner. He wrenched the wheel to the right as all his occupants were slung sideways, barely staying upright under the control of their latched seatbelts.

Brian's chest heaved from the adrenalin rushing through his veins as he let out a deep breath; at the sight of his son being threatened, his blood had run cold. He had to get to that school, he had to find his son; there was no other option. He glanced once more at the back of the car and his eyes locked onto blue ones staring back at him in anxiety. He couldn't quite decipher the emotions expressed; even with his cop training, he was too upset at the moment to be able to think straight. He knew one thing, though; before this whole sordid tale was over, he would get to the bottom of what – and exactly who – Justin Taylor was: a criminal helping to prey on young children, or an unwilling participant in a macabre game of fortune telling.

As they approached the school a few minutes later, it was obvious word had gotten out that a student was missing. There were several county and city patrol cars parked helter-skelter as if the occupants had pulled up and rushed out of their cars, leaving them where they stood. There were a few uniformed policemen standing outside, apparently guarding against anyone leaving until they could be questioned. No students could be seen, however, either out in the adjacent playground or anywhere else on the grounds; the school was obviously in a lockdown situation at the moment.

As Brian pulled up hurriedly and stopped, Carl couldn't help thinking how much better if would have been if only the same teachers now milling around helplessly, wondering what to do, had kept a better watch on their precious charge who was now missing; if anything happened to this particular child, he knew Brian would never get over it. He thought for just a moment about his own daughter, now grown and out on her own. If this had happened to her, he would have felt the same way.

The car had barely stopped before Brian flung the driver's side open and rushed out at a full run toward the policemen standing near the entrance; he and Carl didn't know enough details yet to even know where to start. Carl opened the door, taking just a moment to lean in to tell his backseat occupants, who were locked in from the inside, "Stay here." He wasn't sure what they were walking into yet; he wanted to keep their two passengers safe, but at the same time, he wanted especially to keep Taylor close by. At this point, he was still undecided what his role was in the killings, and they would no doubt need to question him further after finding out exactly what they dealing with here at the crime scene.

Justin sighed heavily as Horvath closed the door, effectively locking them both in the cars like prisoners. Would this be what he would be considered from now on? He bowed his head in weariness, more mental than physical although he had gotten very little sleep since seeing Brian's son in his dream.

Brian's son. He couldn't believe the beautiful, doe-eyed boy was Brian's own child. His heart, which had been heavy with sorrow since the moment he had seen the child in his nightmare vision, was even more weighted down with this startling revelation. If Brian's own child wasn't safe from this predator, if they couldn't somehow save him, whose child would be safe? How many more children would be killed before this person was caught? How many more frightening visions would he have until they stopped? Would they ever stop?

He sucked in a painful breath as he looked over at his friend. Daphne unbuckled her belt and scooted over toward him to take his arm. "Justin…..I, I don't know what to say. They have to know you had nothing to do with this."

Justin shook his head, his eyes glistening. "I think Sergeant Horvath is willing to give me the benefit of the doubt, but not Detective Kinney. I saw the look in his eyes, Daphne; he thinks I had something to do with this. He thinks I know what happened to his son. He hates me for what he thinks I did to his little boy!"

"Shh," his friend shushed him quietly as she looked out the window at Horvath and Kinney talking to a couple of other policemen and a blonde-headed, middle-aged woman wearing a maroon-colored, two piece skirt suit. "You don't know that for sure, Justin; but it doesn't matter – he'll find out you had nothing to do with this! I don't know when his son went missing, but if it happened at recess this morning, it had to be after you told me about your dream! Don't you see? There's no way it had happened by the time you drew the sketch and told me about it! He can't blame you for this!"

Justin huffed. "He'll find a way; he's blamed me since the moment he saw me. He said he doesn't believe in this hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo." Inside, though, a slight glimmer of hope began to coalesce as he realized Daphne was right – there could be no way he could be involved with the crime this time. Unless…. "What if he thinks I drew a sketch ahead of time of what 'my accomplice' was planning to do today?"

Daphne turned her head to peer into her friend's worried eyes. "Come on, Justin! Kinney may be a stubborn, know-it-all asshole but he doesn't appear to be stupid! How could you possibly draw what was going to happen before it did? You couldn't foresee the exact way this man would come and snatch that boy away; I don't care if you ARE involved! It's just not possible to be that accurate!"

Justin continued to stare out the window as he whispered, "I just need for them to find him. I want this to stop. I want the pain to stop….He's got to be okay." He watched as a beige-colored SUV quickly pulled up and two women – a tall wispy blond and a thin brunette – hurriedly emerged from the vehicle and ran over to Brian. He couldn't hear what was being said, but it didn't take his psychic abilities to know that they were extremely upset. The blond rushed into Brian's arms as he hugged her tightly to his chest while the smaller woman animatedly began to talk to Horvath, her face contorted in anger and pain as she gestured with her hands.

"I wish I knew what they were saying," Justin murmured as he watched them. He desperately wanted to know what they had found out about Gus, but couldn't hear a thing through the thick pane of the car's safety glass. He, too, could only hazard a guess as to who the two women were – one had to be the child's mother, he would think, but he wasn't sure about the other woman.

"I know," Daphne whispered, feeling so sorry for her friend. She was glad she had been able to come with him for moral support; she knew if he had had to come alone, he would have probably fallen apart, despite the strength and resilience he had displayed so far. Justin had had to be strong to prevail through all the horrible visions he had been having lately, but the murders of so many young innocent lives were quickly taking a toll on him. And this time it was more personal because it involved one of the detectives trying to solve them. "We're just going to have to wait, though; we don't have any choice."

Justin nodded as he continued to watch the drama playing out several feet away, desperately wishing he could read lips. The worry pouring off Brian and the two women, though, was almost palpable, and for good reason; he didn't have any idea exactly who the killer was, but he did know one thing – the man was pure evil. Please…..let them find him in time, he silently pleaded as he pressed his palm against the cold glass and waited for word.

The principal, Marla Hensley, pressed one lacquered hand to her head as if trying to stop the pain from throbbing in her temple; Gus Peterson-Marcus had only been missing for about an hour, but in that time the entire staff had quickly been engaged in either monitoring the remaining children who were on lockdown in the gymnasium, looking through the remaining interior rooms of the school or searching the grounds for any sign of the missing child. None of the teachers had seen Gus leaving with anyone, nor had they even seen any strangers lurking around just beforehand. She had explained that when another child had gotten hurt on the climbing bars, it had drawn the attention of the skeleton teaching staff on the playground and no one had witnessed Gus being drawn away – if that was what had happened.

The woman was heartsick at the thought that Gus might have been abducted; her school normally prided itself on maintaining meticulous control of their children at all times, but the pervading influenza bug that had swept through the school recently had finally defeated their strategy. Now, as she looked at the worried looks of the two mothers and the infuriated expression on the child's father's face, she averted her eyes in shame and regret.

"Okay, Ms. Hensley, one more time," Horvath said patiently as he wrote down some notes on a small, spiral-bound notebook; inside, however, he was anything but calm. He knew there were swarms of policemen searching the grounds as they spoke, but he also knew the longer it took to find Gus, the worse his chances would be. And Kinney – he could barely control his anger and his restlessness as he lightly juggled on each foot in turn. He knew Brian was dying to do something, anything, to find his son, but until they got a lead on just who had abducted him, his hands were virtually tied. This woman he was questioning, unfortunately, didn't appear to know a fucking thing that would help, either. "You say one of the teachers noticed Gus as he came out into the playground, about an hour ago."

She nodded her head. "Yes, that's right; his teacher, Diana Withers, was one of the playground supervisors so she came out with him and the rest of her class at 10:30 for their morning recess."

"And when would you say was the last time she or anyone else saw him?"

The principal stared over at Horvath in embarrassment. "No one really recalled seeing Gus specifically after he ran out to the playground after the class bell rang."

Brian's eyes flashed as he jammed his hands into his pockets; he had a sudden urge to put his hands around her turkey neck and strangle the life out of her at the moment for her incompetence. "No one saw my son after that?" He glanced over at Lindsey and Melanie, who were standing there with their arms around each other, tears in their eyes as they thought about where their son might be and what was happening to him. Was he scared? Was he crying? Was he wondering why no one was coming to get him?

"If something happens to my son, Lady, I am going to hold you and everyone in this school responsible! This is the biggest bunch of bullshit I have ever heard! You let a six-year-old child just walk off with a total stranger?" He brushed his hand through his hair helplessly. "How could you fucking do that, Ms. Hensley? Huh? Answer the goddamn question!"

The blonde-headed woman covered her face in her hands in anguish. "I know – we're so sorry, Mr. Kinney." She stared over at the haunted faces of the two women to repeat, "I'm so sorry. We're all just heartbroken over this."

"Yeah….that's a big comfort right now," Brian spat out as he glanced over at Lindsey and Melanie. "Try telling them that." He scuffed his shoes against the cement sidewalk. "We're wasting our time here, Sarge," he said, his body roiling with repressed energy. He always had been one not to just sit around and wait for something to happen; he had to go out and dig for the answers. And it was even worse now; he couldn't bear to just stand there while his precious son's life was at stake. But where do they even begin? Where do they start? They had no description of the man, no getaway vehicle, not even so much as a fingerprint the killer had left anywhere. How were they going to find this murderer before it was too late?

"Can we interview the kids who were out on the playground at the same time as Gus?" he asked Horvath, not even wanting to look the principal in the eye at the moment; he was so disgusted and angry he didn't trust himself to even be civil to her.

Carl held out a hand to gently take Brian's sleeve. "Already being done," he told him as he peered over at the two women whose faces were pale with worry; their eyes wet with tears of dread. "Those students have been quarantined separately from the rest of the student body. They will be asked if they saw any strangers near the playground, and whether they saw Gus anywhere at recess or whether he might have wandered off; anything that might help us find out where he's gone."

Brian huffed. "Not gone, Carl; taken. There's no fucking way my son just walked away from school – that is not like him. He loved," he choked on the word before he firmly corrected himself as he cleared his throat to try and dislodge the large lump there, "…loves school. He did not leave here voluntarily – he wouldn't do that."

Carl nodded. "I'm sure you're right, Brian," he said softly, "But we need to make sure. While the students are being interviewed, I've got some of my men questioning some of the neighbors."

He turned to the two women, who were still holding each other for comfort. "Just in case, Ladies, if you would contact the parents of any of Gus' playmates just to make sure he somehow didn't go home with them, that would be helpful. It's a long shot, but we want to cover all our bases. Don't volunteer a lot of information about our theory as to what's happened, but I know we won't be able to keep this low-key for long, nor do I think we want to; I think the more eyes looking for your son at this point, the better." He didn't think he had to mention that time would run out quickly for their little boy if they didn't find him soon; the killer did not keep his victim for very long after kidnapping him before he discarded him….Up until now, Carl had tried to be discreet about who knew what was really going on, but he had come to the conclusion that it was time to up the ante and start getting the public involved more. He still wanted to hold the two main clues to the killer's identity close to his vest for prosecution purposes and to discourage copycat killers – the killer's habit of changing the victim into sleep ware, and his 'calling card' – but it was time to start getting the public's help with this case before another child was killed – Brian's child.

He noticed the blonde woman, Lindsey, was clutching a stuffed teddy bear, no doubt a toy that belonged to their son, and his heart lurched at the sight. Noticing his observation, she explained softly, "This is Bradley – it's Gus' favorite animal that he always sleeps with at night." She swallowed hard before she choked out, "I think he might need it when…when…." She couldn't complete the statement as she dissolved into a puddle of tears and Melanie pulled her into her arms for a tight hug as they rocked together silently, both bodies shaking with grief.

Carl nodded silently, his heart going out not only to the two women but also to his detective, whose normal devil-may-care, steely resolve had quickly slipped in light of his own son being the killer's target. He advised Brian, "The county's already got two canine units searching for signs of your son in the woods behind the school grounds. They're using a baseball hat that was left inside the classroom for a scent."

Brian shut his eyes in pain as he remembered he had promised his son they would go to a baseball game this weekend; he recalled placing the Pirates' cap on his son's head this morning after he had spent the night with him at his loft. The two of them had had such fun together, and he had been looking forward to taking Gus to the ball game to try and catch a foul ball. He was even going to go early so his son could try and get some autographs of his favorite players. Now he didn't know if he would ever see his son again at all

The reality of what he might be facing was quickly catching up to him; before now, he had been running mainly on adrenaline and couldn't stop to consider what was at stake. Now, however, as he stood there helplessly, not knowing what to do to find his son, he realized just how grave the situation was and his own face mirrored the same grief and helplessness shown on Melanie and Lindsey's faces. Gus…..Where are you? He whispered silently to his son, hoping somehow, some way, Gus would hear him and help lead them to his whereabouts.

"Carl…..we've got to find my son," he choked out, pursing his lips tightly together to keep the tears from falling. "We've got to fucking find him." Before it's too late….

"I know, Son," Carl said, placing his hand on the brunet's shoulder and squeezing it. He normally wasn't a very demonstrative man in public – preferring to devote such exhibitions exclusively to private time with his wife – but he felt a need to connect personally with his proud, devoted detective. This man, who had managed to hunt down and arrest numerous felons before, had never had taken on this sort of challenge before. Never had it been so personal and never had there been so much at stake. "And we will," he added, although how, he really didn't know. As he glanced over at the police car, though, he knew somehow that the answer lay in the mind – and sketches – of Justin Taylor.


Same Time – Ten Miles Away

The newest addition to his son's baseball team lay quiet and still on top of the John Deere coverlet; as soon as the child had been close enough to grab, he had merely hoisted his slim body over the low-lying metal fence and whisked him away, the cardboard box containing the taped sounds of puppies squealing quickly discarded in his haste to escape unnoticed. It had been a simple matter of pressing the chloroform-soaked rag to the boy's mouth just like he had so many times before and within seconds the child had fallen limp as a ragdoll in his arms; he had hurried toward the dented, nondescript black truck he used as his escape vehicle and laid him across the front bench seat before quickly starting the truck and rushing away undetected.

Now, as the child slept peacefully on top of his son's bed, he could almost imagine it was Tommy lying there, sleeping soundly after an afternoon of Little League. Those had been such fun times, watching his son from the sidelines as he stood at the plate, his dusty, cleated shoe scuffing the dirt underneath as he waited breathlessly for the pitcher's next slider. Invariably, his bat would connect soundly with the ball; his son always was a natural talent behind the plate, and the year before he had died he had been awarded the MVP plaque for his league.

He sighed mournfully as he stood up and walked over to the mantelpiece to pick up the shiny, golden and wood plaque verifying his son's success; it stood proudly next to a picture of Tommy wearing his beloved No. 5 baseball uniform as he held the trophy up high over his head, a look of pure delight on his face. Had that been just last year? Sometimes the pain was so raw it felt like yesterday, and then other times when the loneliness was almost too much to bear, it felt like a lifetime ago. He gently placed the plaque back down in its honored spot on the mantle and turned to observe the tall, angelic, dark-haired child lying on his back, his breaths coming out regularly in soft puffs of air. "Yeah, Son, he'll be a perfect shortstop for you," he told his child as he smiled. "It'll be real soon, Tommy. Real soon."


"Sergeant!" A man Horvath recognized as an Alleghany County Sheriff came rushing up to the group with a cardboard box in his hand. "We found this out in the far corner of the playground!"

Brian hurried over to his sergeant's side, his heart in his throat as both men took a look at what he had found; it was a small, black, hand-held tape recorder inside a beat-up, plain brown box. As the two men looked at the sheriff questioningly, the uniformed man reached in with a latex-gloved hand and held the device up to press the Play key. Instantly, squealing, yelping sounds could be heard.

"What the fuck?" Carl inquired as he strained to listen to the sound and make out what it was. "What is it?"

Brian took a deep breath and let it out. "I'd say it was my son's undoing," he whispered as dread washed over him as he looked over at Lindsey. "He's always asking me if he could have a puppy." There could be no doubt in his mind now that his son had been taken somewhere. Gus…Where are you?

"Oh, God," Lindsey breathed out as Mel hugged her tighter; she knew her son would have responded instantly to anything having to do with puppies; he adored them. She and Mel had constantly coached their son on the dangers of cooperating with strangers, but whenever puppies were involved, his common sense and education promptly were thrown out the door. The abductor had apparently hit upon the one thing that Gus would not have been able to resist….

Mel said quietly, "Gus wouldn't have just gone off with some stranger – except for that."

"Have these been dusted for prints?" Carl asked the county sheriff urgently, who nodded; this was the first time the killer had seemingly slipped up and left any evidence at the scene. "Yeah…first thing we did after finding them; nothing," he reported sadly. "Whoever used this made sure he or she didn't leave any fingerprints."

"Of course no," Brian spat out. "Just like always." There was no doubt now in his mind that this was the same man who had kidnapped the other children, and he also knew painfully what the outcome always was. He was determined that this was NOT going to happen to his son, though, even as his heart was beating mercilessly in terror at the thought.

"Brian…" He turned to look at Lindsey, her face a reflection of his own worry.

"I'm going to find him, Lindsey; count on it," he told her adamantly, knowing what she was asking in that single word; there could be no other option. He set his jaw as he stared over at Mel, whose face was wet with tears. It was rare for this bullheaded woman to ever show any emotion other than anger, but Brian also knew deep down that, despite their numerous differences, this woman loved Gus just as deeply as he and Lindsey did. "I'll find him," he whispered to her as she nodded, too overcome to speak.

Back in the unmarked patrol car, Justin wrung his hands in restlessness as he and Daphne silently watched the proceedings unfolding several yards away. They were too far away to make out what one of the other policemen had carried up to Brian and Horvath inside a box; but whatever it was it must have been considered evidence because the man was wearing protective latex gloves as he held a small, square black item out to them. He could clearly see Brian's reaction of dismay, though, as well as the two women, who immediately broke out into new tears. Whatever it was, it obviously wasn't a good sign…..

"This is driving me crazy, Daphne!" Justin growled. "I can't stand this waiting! I need to know what's going on!"

Daphne squeezed his shoulder in camaraderie. "I know," she said sympathetically. "This has got to be so hard on you," she said as Justin glanced back at her from his place near the window. "I wish they'd tell us what's going on, too." She gazed into her friend's blue eyes, full of worry and dread. "But you already partly know, don't you?"

Justin pushed the heel of his palms tightly against his eyes briefly before he let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. "That's just it, Daphne! I knew he was going to wind up being kidnapped – at least some child was – but that's all! I don't know anything more…..although I know they're not going to believe that; especially Brian. You saw the look in his eyes!"

"Justin, he's terrified about his son – he's lashing out at you because you're the most convenient target! But he's got to know you had nothing to do with this! You couldn't have – you were with me when he was taken!"

Justin rubbed his hands against his face in frustration. "I know, I know….God, Daphne, I just want this whole thing to be over with! I don't want this responsibility anymore! If they don't find Brian's son in time, they might as well go ahead and blame me because I'll wish I was dead anyway!"

Daphne's eyes flashed as she squeezed Justin's wrist hard. "Damn you, Justin! Don't you say that! That is nonsense talk, you hear me?"

Justin sniffled, his eyes tearing up over her loyalty. "I know," he whispered. "But it hurts, Daphne; it hurts so much, and there's nothing I can do about it."

She reached over and wrapped her arms around her friend. "I know….."

Their tender moment was interrupted by the sound of car doors opening; they hadn't even noticed Carl and Brian returning to the car. Justin's heart began to pound as he looked at Brian's face when he entered the car. "What…What's going on?" he whispered to him, dreading what the answer would be but needing to know just the same.

"What do you think, Kreskin?" Brian asked. "My son's been kidnapped!" His eyes focused on Justin's portfolio lying on the floor. "Oh, but that's right – you already knew that, didn't you?" He shot back, as Justin shrunk from the man's fury; Daphne stared back at the detective in disdain.

"Brian," Horvath warned him quietly. "This isn't helping. We'll take both of them back to the station to question him at length."

"Count on it," Brian vowed as he stared intensely at Justin, his eyes almost dark as coal. "And you'd better hope my son is still alive when I find him, or you'll be joining your accomplice in hell."

"Don't worry," Justin managed to answer, his voice barely audible as Carl started the car to return to the station. "I'm already there right now."