God. There is a force to be reckoned with, if indeed he exists at all. I don't know why I haven't thought of this earlier. What with Him being such a large part of my mother's life, and my brother's and maybe even my father's. He was a large part of mine as well, up until my father died. I was young, but not young enough to buy the crap about God wanting my father in His house now. I thought that was selfish of God. Not only did I need him, but so did my mother and brother. And yet, God had taken him from us. God had been selfish. That had been all I saw of God after that, and I don't know if I ever forgave him.

But with this job... there are too many things that happen. You have to believe that at least there's a heaven and a hell. One for the victims, the other for the perps.

Then again, it's hard to think that there could be a God if he lets such atrocities happen. Where is the merciful God we learned of as children. Where?

Joann was sitting beside me on her couch. We both had a cup of tea in front of us. Her hand was warm in mine. She hadn't cried today, and I wondered if it was because she simply had no tears left. She said she couldn't sleep though, and I knew she hadn't really slept all week. How could anyone sleep when they're children were missing?

"We're getting somewhere," I had told her, but her only response was to nod. I was afraid she was losing hope.

"Listen, Joann, if I thought there wasn't a chance for them, I'd tell you."

"Would you?" Her eyes were hard and sad. "Would you really?"

I didn't know what to say.

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't tell me that." I expected her to cry, but there weren't even tears in her eyes. I wanted nothing more to look away, almost ashamed of what I had said, but that look... it held me and I couldn't move. "You wouldn't tell me that," she said again.

"I would," I replied weakly.

She shook her head and we both knew that she was right. I just didn't want to believe it.

"John, do you think my boys are alive?"

Those eyes... "Yes, I do."

"Don't lie to me. I want you to tell me what you tell Fin. Do you think they're alive?"

I blinked. "Th-" My voice cracked. "There's a chance that they're not."

"How much of a chance?"

I shook my head. "Slim. He said a week."

"He already took my boys! What's to say he's not lying?"

She had a point.

"Tell me, John. Do you think they're alive?"

I swallowed. I felt her hand squeezing mine. I thought of her boys. I thought of the perverts we had already met in this case. I thought about her. "Despite the chance that they might not be, I think they are alive."

Her hand relinquished its grip on mine and her eyes slipped down. We remained like this for a moment and then, quietly, I heard her say, "I wish they were dead."

Four hours had passed since my conversation with Fin on the way back from Rikers. Huang had been called at home and he waited in the squad room, looking over details of the case while Olivia and Fin brought the Kolberts to the station. Elliot and McElroy had gone to the school, armed with pictures of Eisenberger, Piechocki and Lyden, to find out if anyone had been hanging around lately who shouldn't be. I pulled Rosen to go grab some decent coffee with me, and ask him his opinion of Lyden. Over a much needed and appreciated breakfast, he told me as I had suspected. Lyden was the least likely of our three suspects for the same reasons I had thought of earlier that morning.

When we returned to the precinct, Huang was in the room adjacent to Cragen's office talking with Taylor and his mother was wringing her hands in Cragen's office, who was trying to keep her calm. He had no doubt told her that Piechocki's name had come up in an investigation and that we just needed to know if Taylor had seen anything or knew anything. Gabrielle Kolbert had no doubt countered with the inevitable, "What sort of investigation?" at which point Cragen asked if she wanted something to drink and kindly steered her away from those sorts of questions, and more importantly, the answers to those questions.

Somewhere along the line, my phone rang and I picked it up to hear Elliot's voice on the other end.

"Hey, the school says they haven't seen anyone. We asked around, and the crossing guard remembers seeing Piechocki and Eisenberger hanging around. Different days though."

"How long ago?"

"'Bout a month. Said she hasn't seen 'em since."

I ran a hand through my hair, sighing. "Well, what about the route the boys take home? Someone there mighta seen Piechocki or Eisenberger following them or hanging around. Same with around their apartment."

"We checked, nothin' doin'."

"By the apartment?"

"We're headed there now."

"I'll take Olivia to go visit Piechocki. Fin and Rosen can go talk to Eisenberger."

"All right. See you back at the squad."

"See ya." I closed my phone and put it in my pocket.

"We goin' back out to Queens?" Olivia asked, having walked in around the middle of the conversation.

I grabbed my coat. "Yeah. Elliot said that the crossing guard saw Piechocki and Eisenberger. You know where Fin is? Or Rosen?"

"I'm right here," Rosen piped up.

I turned around to see him coming down the stairs. "You and Fin need to go see Eisenberger. Elliot said the crossing guard saw him and Piechocki hanging around the school."

"Sure thing." He went back up the stairs.

"Let's go." I tossed Olivia the keys. "You drive."

"How's Joann?" she asked, inevitably, as she drove.

"As well as can be expected."

She glanced at me. "You sure?"

I laughed, a hollow laugh that sounded false and full of pain even to my own ears. "Yeah, sure I'm sure."

"When you came back, you didn't look too hot."

I shrugged. "It's not easy talking to a woman who doesn't know where her children are."

She was quiet for a moment and I fooled myself, for just that moment, into thinking she had dropped it. "What happened?" Quietly spoken, it dropped on my shoulders like a ton of bricks.

Suddenly angry, I shook my head. "Nothing worth mention," I bit out.

Another moment. "How are you doing?"

Another shrug, half hearted and heavy. "Didn't sleep last night. You missed the fun of going back to Rikers at two in the morning."

"Fin mentioned."

"Yeah."

"You know, if you went up to the crib for a while, no one would think less of you."

I snorted. "I would."

And then she was back to Joann and I felt a shiver run down my back as she asked, "You sure everything's all right?"

This time she had me and for a moment, I couldn't say anything. Joann's words had hung about me since she said them and no matter what I did to forget them, they clung to me. "She asked me if I thought they were alive." I stared at the dashboard. "I told her that I did." And then my throat closed up and I forced out in something barely above a whisper, "She said she wished they weren't."

Luckily, we were at a red light and she turned sharply to look at me. "Don't you think she should talk to Huang?"

I was surprised that she didn't understand. She, of all people, I thought would understand. "It's not that, it's..." I looked out the window, her gaze not being quite as captivating as Joann's had been earlier this morning. "They're being tortured." It came out choked and I realized I was on the verge of tears. Tears Joann hadn't been able to cry. "She would rather them have been killed than know that they'll have to live with this week for the rest of their lives."

Soon we were parking in front of the repair shop where Piechocki worked. I stepped from the car and spotted him immediately; he was coming out into the garage from what I assumed to be the office. "Mr. Piechocki," I called. "A word, if I may."

He stopped where he was and for a second I thought he was going to run, but he allowed us to approach. "Yeah, what is it you want now?"

"Just to talk," I said, keeping my voice neutral.

"Bull shit."

"Tsk, tsk. Now if you're going to talk like that around a lady, we're gonna have to take you to the station."

"You can't do shit to me. I haven't done anything."

"Ah, now that's where you're wrong. Detective Benson, would you like to tell him, or should I?"

She smiled at me before turning to Piechocki. "We showed your picture around PS 114. People have seen you hanging around."

"Now an upstanding citizen like you wouldn't be preying on innocent school children, would you?"

"Hey, I ain't no perv." He pointed the wrench in his hand at me.

I noticed Olivia's hand go to her gun out of the corner of my eye. "Hey now, Gregg. Why don't you put the wrench down."

A twisted smile came to his face and I instantly knew that our talk had turned sour and that we didn't have much time left, or any at all. "Or what?" he taunted.

The smile was gone from my face, as well as from Olivia's. "Isn't any reason to do something stupid."

"Stop bothering me."

"Can't do that, Gregg. All you have to do is answer some questions for us, and we'll leave."

"Well, ask 'em then."

"Why were you hanging around an elementary school in Manhattan?" Olivia asked.

"My nephew goes to school there. My sister asked me to pick him up for her."

"What's your sister's name?" I asked.

"Evelyn Herr."

I nodded. "You pick up your nephew a lot?"

"No, only when she can't get home in time."

"Have you ever seen these two boys?" I fished the pictures of Robbie and Zack out of my pocket and held them up.

"No," Piechocki said quickly.

"When was the last time you picked up your nephew?"

"I don't know. 'Bout a month ago, maybe."

"Thank you for your time."

Olivia's hand remained on her gun as we walked away. "We need a detail on this guy," I remarked to her once we were back in the car and Piechocki was out of sight.

"Yeah, I thought he was gonna throw that thing at you."

"It's my charming personality," I joked, smiling once more.

She shook her head, laughing.

Maybe that's it. Maybe what I'm looking for is... is God. I admit, I don't really remember "looking" for him before, when I was a kid or anything, but maybe that's it. Maybe I know, as a cop, that I need something to look to for guidance, seeing the crap I do. This could be it. People look for Him all the time, right? Just because I don't remember it before doesn't mean this isn't it.

But... could it really be this simple?

Could it really just be... God?