Twenty Four

What should have been a two hour drive, Frank made it in an hour and half. As soon as he'd gotten direction from Agent Craig and hung up, Frank had hopped in his car and tore through the miles. He couldn't help but feel optimistic that they may finally get the break that they've been looking for.

They were getting closer to finding Nancy—he just knew it. He only hoped that she wouldn't be completely broken by the time they found her. It was already going to e difficult enough to put her back together, and even if and when they did, there was no way in hell she was going to be the same person. This wasn't going to be something that she could easily walk away from, no matter how much she tried to pretend everything was okay.

But Frank did know one thing for sure—he would be there for her every single tedious step of the way. If there was anything positive that came out of this nightmare, it was that his love for her had grown even more. He couldn't imagine his life without her in it—it was as simple as that.

Frank slowed down as the computer generated voice on his GPS told him that he was approaching his destination. He was thankful for the little device, knowing that he never would have found Becca Arnold's house without it, considering she pretty much lived in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't a house to be found for miles and the downtown area was at least twenty minutes behind him. If the woman wanted seclusion, she definitely got it here.

As soon as Frank turned into the long, winding driveway, he knew he'd found the right place. Police cars were lined up on either side of the gravel drive, their red and blue lights flashing in the late afternoon hours. Luckily, Frank didn't see any reporter vans around which meant that the police were doing a pretty good job keeping things under wraps.

Or more likely, the FBI was the ones keeping things under wraps.

Frank had to admit, he was impressed even after all the screw-ups the government agency had done in the last few days. He wasn't stupid—they were saving face, trying to correct their mistakes before word got out to the general public. They didn't have anything to worry about with Frank—it wasn't as if he was about to go tattle to them to the nearest news agency. He had enough to deal with as it was.

Pulling up behind the police vehicles, Frank got out of his car and stepped into the fresh snow. He bundled up a little tighter in his jacket, trying to stay warm as flakes continued to fall heavily from the sky. It was a little disconcerting to see the delicate white precipitation covering the property all around him, giving it an almost winter wonderland look, considering it was now the scene of a crime.

Frank kept his head down as he made his way down the rest of the driveway. Officers were milling all around, talking in small groups. Only a few glanced up at him as he made his way past them before turning their attention back to their conversations. He was almost surprised by how easy it was for him to walk right on by without being stopped.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask for you to turn around."

Frank glanced up to see a stocky officer with white blond hair and icy blue eyes staring down at him with his arms crossed over his chest, blocking his way to the porch. "I was beginning to wonder if you just let anyone walk up onto a crime scene," he muttered.

The officer's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "What was that?"

"I was asked to come here," Frank said, ignoring the officer's question.

"And just who exactly would you be?"

"Frank Hardy. I'm a private detective—"

"I don't care who the hell you are. If I were you, I would turn back around and get into your car and drive off," the officer said, smirking. "We have enough to deal with here without having to worry about a wannabe loser trying to play cops and robbers."

Frank could feel his temper rising as he glared up at the lumbering jackass, his hands fisting at his sides. While he may have felt better earlier and less prone to violence, that was quickly changing the longer he stayed around the officer. "Listen, you—"

"Mr. Hardy…glad to see you could make it," Agent Craig said, suddenly appearing beside the officer. Frank couldn't help but notice that the cop only became more agitated at the sight of the agent. "Though I have to admit, I didn't expect you here for another thirty minutes or so."

Frank shrugged. "Traffic was light."

Agent Craig didn't look as if he believed him, but he didn't press the issue. Instead, he turned his attention to the cop. "Officer Hillyer, while I appreciate your diligence, you can cool down the guard dog routine. I asked Mr. Hardy to come here."

Hillyer barely acknowledged Craig before tuning his scathing glare on Frank. Frank didn't back down as he stared right back, just daring the officer to say something else to him. He was pretty sure he would hit him for spite at this point. Frank vaguely wondered if Agent Craig would vouch for him when he was arrested.

Probably not. It wasn't exactly as if Frank had been the FBI's biggest supporter these past couple of days—or months.

Officer Hillyer finally stepped aside and let Frank pass, but not before bumping him in the shoulder as he walked by. While every part of him wanted to clock him one, Frank merely shrugged it off and walked away with the agent towards the front porch.

"I'm assuming the two of you won't be best buddies by the time you leave here," Craig said with a smirk.

"I'm assuming the same could be said for the two of you," Frank retorted as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Hell no. I think Hillyer's an asshole."

"Finally something we can agree on."

Craig snorted as he came to a stop on the bottom step. Frank noticed several officers collecting evidence as Agent Whalen barked out orders. "Listen, before we go any further, I just wanted to apologize. I know we've had our differences and that tensions are running high, but I want you to know that we are doing everything possible to locate your fiancée."

Frank nodded as he let out a deep breath. As much as he didn't like the agent standing before him, he also didn't like the idea of constantly being at each other's throats. It wasn't accomplishing anything except for causing his blood pressure to rise. It wouldn't be such a bad thing to put their differences aside until they found Nancy.

Then he could go back to not liking the agent.

"I appreciate that," Frank said as Craig continued to look at him. He held out his hand to shake the agent's hand. "Did you ever find anything in Nancy's car?"

Craig shook his head as he rubbed a hand over his face. "Nothing that would help us anyway. Of course, there were fingerprints that matched to Wesley Levine, not to mention traces of blood in the backseat that matched Miss Drew's—which isn't surprising since we know how violent the son of a bitch can be. I think I would be more surprised if there wasn't any."

While the thought of even a drop of Nancy's blood being shed angered him, Frank couldn't help but agree with Craig. Wesley was never one to treat any of his victims gently—he thrived on pain and violence. His past murders were big indicators of that.

And while blood may have meant something horrible to anyone else, Frank took it as anything but that. It meant that Nancy had fought back against Wesley. She didn't go down against the bastard without a fight. Pride swelled inside of Frank at the thought.

"Other than that, there's nothing that can pinpoint Wesley's exact location," Craig said, with a solemn shake of his head. "All we can hope for is that Miss Jacobs will be able to give us some details once she's released from the hospital."

Frank nodded, but said nothing to that. He still had every intention of going alone with Ella when she felt able. He didn't want the police involved, especially since he was pretty sure he was going to end up killing Wesley. It would be particularly hard to do with the police swarming the place.

"So, what happened here?" Frank asked, nodding towards the porch where the police were diligently working.

"Earlier today, a woman by the name of Becca Arnold was abducted."

"Who called it in?"

Craig nodded to a couple of detectives talking to a man dressed in a brown uniform. "A delivery driver. When he drove up, he noticed the door was wide open. He yelled for Miss Arnold and when she didn't answer, he called the police."

"Did he go into the house?"

"He actually had the common sense not to do that," Craig said, surprise evident in his voice. "When the first responders arrived, they checked out the place and found no sign of her, but her purse and keys were still in the house."

"And we're thinking that she didn't just run away?"

Craig shook his head. "According to the delivery drive, Miss Arnold is something of a recluse. He's here almost every day bringing her deliveries—he's never noticed anyone around. A couple of officers went into town to talk to a few of the residents and they all confirmed what the delivery guy said."

"What the hell would make Wesley come all the way out here and take some random woman?"

"That's actually where things get a little interesting."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked with a frown.

"I decided to play off on a hunch and gave them Levine's picture to show around." Craig's face actually broke out into a grin. It almost gave him a pleasant appearance instead of the severe one he wore all the time. "You'll never guess what we found out."

Frank really wasn't in the mood to play any guessing games so he just stared back at the agent, urging him to keep going.

Craig's grin fell off his face as he realized Frank wasn't interested. "Apparently, Miss Arnold and Levine dated a while back ago."

Frank couldn't have been more surprised if he'd just been told he'd won the lottery. "Are you serious?"

"As a damn heart attack."

"All the other victims since October—did he have any association with them?"

None. From what we've gathered, he targeted past victims."

Frank nodded. "That's what we figured out, too."

"What we're having trouble wrapping our head around is why in the hell is he so fixated on your fiancée. He never keeps his victims alive—he usually kills them in a matter of hours."

"He's obsessed with her. I think Nancy challenges him and he gets off on it." Frank couldn't help but cringe as soon as he said the words. He still hadn't told the agent or police about Nancy being raped by the bastard. He figured it would be best if he kept that little tidbit of information to himself, especially since it was possible they would pull him away from the case if they found out. "I think he wants her to suffer for as long as possible."

"I think you may be right about that. Come on, I have something else to show you." Craig nodded as he led the way into the house. "Something that I think you may find very interesting."

"Do I really want to know?" Frank asked as he followed the agent into the darkened house. A team of forensics agents were going over every detail of the house and paid them no mind as they walked past them and through the kitchen. They came to a stop at a door beneath the stairs.

"I think you'll definitely want to see this." The grin was back on Craig's face but before Frank could shoot it down, he opened the door and led the way inside the small room.

Frank couldn't hide his shock as he took in the room. An elaborate security system had been set up with monitors taking up one wall and computers sitting on a desk in the middle. Every room in the house could be seen on the monitors, not to mention several that were from outside all around the perimeter of the house.

Craig tapped the lone detective on the shoulder and indicated that she should leave. Giving them both a bashful smile, the woman quickly left the room, closing the door behind her.

"What the hell is this?" Frank asked, unable to hide the wonder in his voice.

"Apparently, Miss Arnold valued her safety and security," Craig explained as he sat down in front of one of the computers. "Or she was very paranoid. Either way, she gave us confirmation that it was Wesley who was behind her abduction—not that we had any doubts."

Frank sat down in the other seat as Craig's fingers began moving over the keyboard. Soon, the front of Becca's house showed up on the computer screen. At first, there was nothing there that Frank could see before a car drove into the camera frame. Frank's heart nearly beat out of his chest as he caught a familiar figure in the passenger seat.

"Nancy…" he whispered.

"That's what we're thinking," Craig admitted. "Just keep watching."

His eyes remained riveted on the screen as Craig typed in a few more commands. It wasn't long before the scene changed to Becca's front porch where the woman from the car appeared at the front door. Frank frowned as he watched the scene, confused by the dark-haired woman who was ringing the doorbell. There was no way that could be Nancy—her hair was way lighter than what he was seeing on the screen.

Frank's breath caught in his throat as the woman turned and stared directly into the camera. "He colored her hair."

"You're sure that's Miss Drew?"

"There's no doubt in my mind," Frank said, his fists clenching tightly. "He changed her appearance to make her less noticeable."

Craig nodded as he pointed to the screen. "There's more."

Of course there's more, Frank thought bitterly. But he continued to watch nonetheless. It was as if he was watching the worst horror movie possible as the front door opened to reveal Becca Arnold. He watched, completely riveted, as she and Nancy exchanged words before Nancy suddenly collapsed onto the porch, twitching uncontrollably. If he didn't know any better, he could swear that Nancy was having a seizure or being electrocuted.

After that, everything seemed to go to hell and back as Becca fell to her knees beside Nancy, who continued to writhe on the porch. Nancy seemed to notice something behind Becca, but before the young woman could turn around, Wesley appeared behind her and grabbed her, placing a rag over her mouth. Within a matter of seconds, the woman went limp in his grasp and he dropped her before focusing his attention on Nancy.

Frank could barely control his rage as he watched the killer say something to Nancy before holding up something in his hand for her to see. Her eyes widened in obvious fear before she was jolted off the ground, only to fall back unconscious. As soon as the scene was finished, Craig turned it off and glanced at Frank.

"At least we know that your fiancée is still alive," Craig said gently.

Frank grit his teeth, unable to say anything for fear of lashing out. While he was grateful that Nancy was still alive, it didn't matter, knowing that she'd been hurt yet again by the killer. Frank's rage towards Wesley was only mounting with each passing second. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it in check before he lost it completely.

"I didn't have you come in here to watch this just so you could see what Levine was doing to Nancy."

"Why did you have me come in here?"

"Because we may have actually got the break that we've been looking for."

Frank kept his optimism to himself as he watched Craig type in another series of commands. He couldn't afford to lose his focus and grasp onto hope when everything seemed to go against him. That's why when the next image popped up in his screen, he almost fell out of his chair, sure he wasn't seeing it correctly.

There, staring back at him in grainy clarity was a license plate number.

And that's a wrap on another chapter. We're getting so close to the end of this little ditty—I'm thinking a few more chapters at most.

I would love to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Angelvie S (Thank you so much! Glad you like it!), Caranath (There's a lesson to be learned—never go on vacation when I'm writing a story. You only come back to horror and terror!), Cupcake (I wish you knew me, too! Drowning is one of my worst fears…I couldn't imagine going out that way), FreshKicks (I'm so glad you like Wesley, even if he is terrifying!), SC15 (I've lost count with Nancy's head bump tally…let's just go with a lot), misslady92 (Glad I can warn you! I would hate for you to read something that may bother you!), mg (Glad you like it!), catlover1033 (I would never want to kill a faithful reviewer! I love and respect you too much!), and Michelle Gallichio (The reunion will be coming soon!).

I apologize for any mistakes and let me know what you think!