Disclaimer: The following characters are mine: Jessa, Dylan, Ms. Aimes, Jordan, Rust. All others are not mine. They've been fun to play with, though.

Thank you to all of my readers and to those of you who sent reviews. My story is now COMPLETE. I considered writing an alternate ending, maybe even two (a Scooby Doo ending came to mind), but I wrote the story months ago and I've become rather attached. Warning--there is violence in this chapter. Eventually, I had to describe the "how" of Jessa's death.

Apologies about the delay. I was on a business trip. Home now!

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When the team arrived back at headquarters, Don and Megan escorted Danny Rust, handcuffed, into the building. Colby and David followed a minute later with Jordan, who was still crying. They exited two different elevators on the seventh floor at almost the same time. Don grabbed Rust roughly by the arm as the man lunged toward Jordan with a shouted "I told you B! I told you I shouldn't go back for that pot! I'm telling 'em everything!"

The agents separated the two, Don practically dragging Rust toward an interrogation room, Colby guiding Jordan to another.

"Jordan!!" Shrieked Dylan, running toward his sister as Jordan, Colby and David walked past the break room. "They said they'd find you and they did! They said so!"

Colby looked at Ms. Aimes, and then at his watch. "Wasn't Dylan supposed to be at a…well…" he couldn't say "group home" in front of the boy and his sister.

Ms. Aimes shrugged a bit. "When Don and Megan said you thought you'd found Jordan, I figured it could wait a while so that we could let Dylan see her." She looked doubtful. There was something on the two agents' faces. "I was wondering if I would be taking both siblings with me, but now I don't think so."

Colby squatted down to look Dylan in the eye. "Hey, little man. Do you mind if David and I talk to Jordan for just a few minutes?" Dylan nodded, confused again. He reached out to grab his sister's hand, but Jordan didn't look at him, instead focusing over the boy's head. Tears leaked slowly down her face. Dylan's hand sought out Ms. Aimes' instead.

Colby and David guided Jordan into a glass walled interrogation room. From where she now sat, Jordan could easily see Rust in a similar room with Don and Megan. It was obvious that Rust was singing like a bird. Jordan stared.

Colby sat down across the table from the teenager. "You went with him, didn't you." It wasn't a question, and Jordan didn't answer it. "Did he tell you he was going to hurt Jessa?"

Jordan looked up, startled, at that. "He hurt Jessa?" Colby nodded. Jordan's expression changed, but not, as Colby would have expected, to grief. The first look to actually cross the girl's face was, perhaps, relief. That was interesting. The look changed quickly to a parody of sadness, but Jordan's tears did not increase. Not a great actress thought David.

Colby decided to press his advantage. "Jordan, Jessa's dead." The statement didn't really seem to surprise the girl, though she did pretend to be upset by the bluntness. "There are two sets of fingerprints on the murder weapon. Danny's, and your mother's." He let that sink in for a minute. "We're pretty sure Danny was the one who killed her, but just in case, you and Dylan need to stay with us for a while. You know, in case the real murderer was your mom."

That got her. Jordan answered before she even thought. "Mom didn't do it! You can't take Dylan away from mom! She loves him!"

"And she doesn't love you?" Came David's response, rapid-fire, pressing the girl before she could get her bearings again.

"She loves HIM! HER son! HER HUSBAND'S son! HE'S the perfect one." She was screaming now. She tried to stand, but David's hand on her shoulder kept her in the seat. "And HE…" she pointed through the glass wall toward where Rust sat, still talking away to Don. "HE wouldn't even LOOK at his daughter! But he looked at me! He was going to marry me! But…" Jordan realized what she'd been saying.

Colby filled in the remainder of the sentence. "But if you got rid of Jessa, Danny would love you again. Right?"

All of the rage seemed to drain out of the teenager. She sagged into her chair. She nodded.

"Why don't you tell us what happened, Jordan?" David's voice was gentle, coaxing.

Jordan stared at her hands, resting on the table. She never looked up as she told the story, her voice monotone. "Danny picked me up from school yesterday, and we went and got Dylan. When we got home, Danny gave Dylan some ice cream with some of my mom's medicine in it. That always makes Dylan fall asleep, so Danny and I can be together."

Well, that explains the semen in her bed, thought Colby. They put Dylan to sleep so that they could have sex without disturbing the kid. Ahhh, family values.

Jordan continued, "After, we were talking about Jessa. I wanted him to be a real dad, like Dylan's dad is, but he said that Jessa wasn't his. But she is, 'cause I never was with anyone else. He said he loved me, but that he was never gonna marry me because Jessa wasn't his and he couldn't raise another man's daughter. Then Dylan was waking up, so Danny left." She took a breath. The agents waited. "Mom got home with Jessa and I told her I had a date and I went to Danny's apartment. He said we could run away together. But I had to prove I loved him first. So, in the morning, I went home and I gave Jessa the medicine. I figured she'd just go to sleep, the way Dylan does, and I'd put a pillow over her mouth. I saw it on TV. You put a pillow over the baby's mouth and she just doesn't wake up, and the police call it 'crib death.' The baby never even knows. But when I gave her the medicine, it kind of got stuck. And Jessa was moving her arms and legs all over the place, and she turned blue. But then she stopped moving…"

The confession lasted for three hours. Somewhere during that time, Colby excused himself.

He found Dylan and Ms. Aimes watching television in one of the conference rooms. He squatted in front of Dylan's chair. "Hey little man."

"Colby! Where's Jordan? We always watch this show together. You found her! You said you would, but I didn't think you would because you said a bunch of things but you said you'd find her and you did. Where is she? Is she going to drive us home? Ms. Aimes says we can probably go home tonight. And that's good because Mommy was really mad at you and now she doesn't have to be mad at you and..." Colby let the boy's words run down, unable to get a word in during the mad rush of childhood excitement. Truth was, what Colby had to say wasn't anything he really was in a hurry to tell Dylan anyway.

Once Dylan's monologue wandered to an end--Colby figured the kid hadn't breathed once in the past two minutes--Colby couldn't put it off any longer. "Dylan, I need you to listen to me." Dylan looked at the agent, tilting his head curiously. "Ms. Aimes is going to take you home now. But Jordan is going to have to stay with us for a while. We've got to talk to her about Jessa."

"We'll wait for her! Won't we Ms. Aimes? We'll wait, and then Jordan and me'll surprise Mommy together!" He looked at the TV. "Will you let me watch Batman? Mommy doesn't let me because I'm supposed to do my homework, but then you can talk to Jordan and then we'll go home after Batman!"

Colby sighed. "No, little man. It's gonna take a lot longer than that. Jordan might have to stay with us for a few days."

"A few days?" Dylan was seeming less excited, and more angry, by the second. "You're gonna take her, aren't you? You're gonna take her away from Mommy like you took me away. And you'll make Mommy cry, too! You're not helping! You said you'd help Jessa, but Jessa's dead and now you're gonna make Mommy cry again!"

Before Colby could react, the small boy's tiny fist connected with the agent's cheek. The punch wasn't hard--Colby outweighed Dylan by at least 150 pounds--but Colby was unbalanced, squatting on his heels, and the boy's rage was shocking. Colby sat down, hard, and put up his hands to fend off the six-year-old. He couldn't even bring himself to restrain the boy. Ms. Aimes came forward, pulling Dylan away and into a tight hug. Over Dylan's head, the woman nodded to Colby. He took the advice, leaving the room and walking sadly back to work.

Colby often thought about Dylan over the years he spent in LA, but he never saw the little boy again. For all of those years, he wondered if Dylan still wanted to be an FBI "policeman" when he grew up.

THE END.

Apologies to GrahamCracker and everyone who got attached to poor Dylan, but it really did have to be like this.