Thank you so much for your reviews and ideas. Another weekend is around the corner and I wanted to add just one more chapter before we all get busy for a few days. Enjoy. Also, in upcoming chapters there will be mentions of violence against Anika. I don't want this to be a trigger for some of you who may have issues with this subject. It is done tastefully and without too much detail, but please, be forewarned.

Dead Ringer

Chapter 35

Dreams

Patrick and Teresa lay together on the bed, just holding each other, speaking very little. What more was there to say? Teresa had held off asking Jane what his nightmares were about, the ones plaguing him ever since he got away from Stockman. She had originally believed they were the usual kind he'd experienced ever since Angela and Charlotte died. Now, she needed to know if in fact they had changed somehow, under the stress of his abduction and his second daughter's disappearance. She had to know.

Teresa turned in the bed and faced Jane's profile, while he lay deep in thought. As she screwed up the courage to broach the subject of his dreams, he spoke first.

"You'll feel better if you just ask me Teresa. What's on your mind?"

Teresa blushed at being caught by her perceptive husband. There was very little that got past him, even now, under these conditions.

"I...was just wondering...what you've been dreaming about. Your nightmares...what do you see that has you so upset?" she finally asked.

Jane kept staring straight ahead, considering how much to tell his wife. She had enough worries. Did he need to burden her with the horrific scenes he saw playing out in his dreams every time he closed his eyes? He turned to take in her worried face. She was sorry she asked, he could see it, but she wanted to know, needed to know. Sighing deeply, he reached for her fingers and intertwined his with hers. Turning away from her again, he stared at the ugly painting of a boat at sea on the wall by the door. Why did hospitals always have such ugly, tasteless 'artwork' hanging in patient rooms? Did they want to depress them even further?

"Jane…"Teresa said softly, bringing him back to her question.

"Ahh...yes...my dreams. Are you sure you want to know? There's nothing good there Teresa, nothing you want living in your mind, trust me."

Now Teresa was worried anew. What was so bad that he didn't want to share it with her? She put her hand on his cheek and turned his face towards hers.

"Why would you keep that burden all to yourself when I'm here to cut it in half?" she said with love. "They're your dreams, not mine. Believe me, I have nightmares of my own" she confessed.

Jane smiled at that. She was right of course. She wasn't immune to nightmares of her own making. It would be easy to invent something suitably frightening to tell her, something that would satisfy Teresa into letting the subject drop, but soon enough she'd know he tried to fool her and that would do neither of them any good under the circumstances.

"OK. Maybe saying them outloud will make them less….real" Patrick said ominously. Teresa nodded approvingly. That's what she hoped for too.

"I...the dreams…" Patrick tried to begin, but where to begin? He'd had nightmares ever since Charlotte and Angela died, but Teresa was well aware of those dreams. She was more interested in what was haunting him now, since he woke up from his surgery.

"It's about Anika. Always Anika" he confessed.

"What about her Patrick?" Teresa asked with worry growing. He always claimed to be a fake psychic, but sometimes it just seemed like he knew things he shouldn't know.

Patrick lay back against his pillow and snaked his arm around Teresa's shoulders, pulling her close. With his eyes closed, Patrick let his mind go back to his drowning dreams.

"I see her being dragged through long grass, in a big green open space. At first, Angela and Charlotte were there, watching someone pulling KiKi towards the water while she tired to fight him off. In time I realized it was it was Stockman pulling her. I could smell the wet grass, smell the water close by, see it shining in the sun. So beautiful. The man never turned around, never showed his face but I knew what he was going to do, knew he would pull Anika down into the water while Angela and Charlotte stood and watched, unable to stop it from happening."

Teresa reached out for his right hand and squeezed his fingers. God, what a horrid scene to have playing over and over while he tried to sleep.

"At first, I didn't understand what the dream meant, because I had forgotten Stockman threatened to drown KiKi after I died. That was the last thing he said to me before he put that bag over my head and I began to suffocate. The message was there, deep down, buried in my mind, but until I remembered, my mind tried to warn me with those dreams."

"You were trying to warn yourself before Stockman took Anika."

"Yes. But I was too slow remembering" Patrick said with sadness. Knocking his head with his knuckles, he mocked himself. "Not such a mighty fortress after all."

"Don't. You'd had a head injury, you were stabbed and very sick, oxygen deprived. Why do you expect to be superhuman Jane? It's a miracle you remembered at all consciously. Most people would lock that memory away so deeply they would never remember just to stay sane. Your mind kept sending you hints, so you would remember. I'd say that's nothing to be sorry about."

Jane turned his head and kissed Teresa on the forehead. Maybe he could forgive himself after Anika was safe, but right now, he felt like he'd handed her over to Stockman on a silver platter.

"Are the dreams always the same?" Teresa asked, getting back on topic.

"No. They're always about KiKi being dragged somewhere to be drowned, but the dream itself changes. The scene is sometimes more visible to me, sometimes Charlotte and her mother aren't there. One time, Charlotte and Anika were both together, hand in hand, both in danger of drowning. See, I'm creative in torturing myself."

"Or maybe this is your mind trying to tell you where Stockman is going to take her. Did he say anything about where he'd do it? Is that why you can see the field and water so clearly in your dreams?" Teresa asked, sure there was a clue there the FBI could use. If only that was the case, Patrick would have figured out Stockman's plan by now.

"He didn't say where or when, just that it would happen. And the scene isn't really definitive. I know there's water, just over there...and here...long grass, bullrushes down at the water's edge, lots of space, clear skys, room to run. It could be anywhere with a lake and a public park, a forest with a lake, private land with a lake or river. It's because I don't know where he'll take her that my dreams are so nebulous, but real nonetheless. My mind is providing a scenario to fit the threat."

"I'm sorry. I was just hoping…" Teresa mumbled, seeing now why he was so tormented by just enough information to make him totally helpless about stopping his daughter's death.

"I know, me too. The dreams always come back, in one form or another, but they always stop just before Anika reaches the water. By then I'm so upset I usually wake up" Patrick admitted.

"That's a good thing. You shouldn't see that" Teresa reassured him, sad that once again, there was nothing she could do to assuage his nightly torments.

Patrick fell silent, replaying his dreams over and over again in his mind. He just didn't have enough information to attempt a guess at where Stockman would take her. For years he'd dealt with families in similar circumstances, at the FBI, but also earlier, when he worked for Teresa at the CBI. This felt like the old days with one terrible difference. This was their child out there in the ether.

Anika had only been gone since noon, and since noon, their world had been turned upside down. Each had their own thoughts about the possibility of their child never coming home again. How many cases had Jane and Teresa worked at the CBI that involved missing and murdered children? Usually, Jane figured out who took them and where they were hidden. Not all children came home alive though. Back then, he had employed his usual tricks to make it seem like he was still a psychic when it suited the outcome of the case, but it was always just flim/flammery.

"There's always a body of water nearby, always."

"I see him, it will be a boy."

"I see him in a cabin, not a cabin, I smell something sharp, pine needles, I see trees, lots of trees, I see a face…"

But that bit of show business was just to flush out the real kidnapper. Sadly, in Anika's case, they knew full well who had her and why, but Jane's scattershot approach to guessing where Stockman planned to murder her didn't work, not this time. He couldn't fool anyone into betraying Anika's whereabouts because there was no one who knew. Only Stockman. Jane's dreams were just that, dreams and nightmares, not psychic messages foreshadowing the true intentions of the kidnapper and he knew it. A drowning necessitated a body of water, and Jane's brain fabricated a scene to fulfil that prophecy.

With Jane growing more and more quiet, Teresa finally got up off the bed and stretched. She had to move, change the subject and brighten the mood.

"I'm going to get something to drink. Can I get you anything?"

Jane finally lifted his eyes and met hers. "Mmmm, that would be nice. You know what I want" Jane agreed, happy for the distraction. He was thirsty for a decent cup of tea, not the watered down swill that came with his meals.

Teresa left Patrick alone and made her way down to the cafeteria. While she was gone, he decided it was time to get up and get moving again. Being bedridden would only weaken his muscles and his determination to go home. He slid carefully out of bed and got his feet underneath him, relishing the cool tiled floor on his bare feet. He shuffled over to the bathroom, dragging his IV pole with him and took care of business, then splashed fresh water on his face to feel cleaner. He couldn't wait for a shower, as his hair still had the remnants of cement dust stuck down onto his scalp. When he was done, he made his way over to a large leatherette lounger near his bed, satisfied with himself. Ten minutes later, Teresa came back with goodies.

She brought a fresh cup of tea into Patrick's room, happy to see him up and ensconced in the lounger. Each time he got up he gained a bit more strength. He had been prepared to fake his wellness to go home in the morning, but now he was really beginning to believe he just might actually be well enough to handle the drive to his cabin in the country.

Teresa handed him his tea with a cookie while she sat on the edge of his bed with a coffee. They hadn't heard from Cho for quite a while, and that both worried and reassured them. Not hearing from him also meant he didn't have the worst possible news for them. It would be nice to know how the investigation was going, just a word or two to give them something to hold onto until the morning. Jane had gotten his head straightened out, his momentary breakdown an embarrassment but not unusual considering his history. Teresa looked haggard. She was bearing the lion's share of worry, caring for her injured, shaken husband, concerned about Benny's condition, and of course, the ongoing, unspoken terror of losing her child. She needed something to cling to, a tiny shard of evidence that Stockman wasn't invincible. What she wanted soon walked in the door.

"Everyone dressed in here?" a voice called out. A moment later, Cho stuck his head in the door and smiled at seeing Jane sitting up in a chair.

"Cho, good to see you! Get in here!" Patrick told him with a wave.

"Well you look a lot better than the last time I saw you" Cho said, heartened by Jane's improved colour and alertness. "When did they let you get out of bed?" he asked as he reached over to shake Jane's hand.

"Ahh, they didn't let me, I just did it. Feels good to be upright again" Patrick smiled.

Cho snorted. "Sounds about right."

"So, Cho, please say you have good news" Teresa stated, keen to know what was going on and uneasy with small talk.

"I wanted to let you know the latest. We found out that Stockman stayed at the Waterloo Motel earlier today, after he tried to kill Benita. He didn't stay very long even though he paid for the night. He also ditched the red car in downtown Austin and stole a black sedan, a Honda. He drove it back to the motel then left. We have the license plates so we're currently searching for the car."

"And Anika?" Jane asked.

"All indications suggest she was with Stockman as recently as a few hours ago. Alive, we believe. We found evidence of her around the motel room. That's good news. He's waiting for something, and if he waits long enough, we'll get him" Cho said convincingly.

"She's alive!" Teresa repeated, looking at Jane with relief before she prayed a quick prayer of thanks.

He nodded silently, gratefully. "Good work Cho. Anything else?"

"Hey, it was Wylie who found out where Stockman was staying, give him the credit. There was an old laptop in the front office of the motel that guests can use. We don't know if he used it but Wylie is taking it apart as we speak to see if Stockman did any searches on it. We'll know soon."

"Thanks for coming to let us know. We've been going crazy" Teresa admitted, standing up to take Jane's hand.

"How's Benita?" Cho asked.

"Better, full of painkillers. She didn't need surgery but they wanted to keep her in overnight for observation. She'll be hurting for a while but she'll soon be back on her feet" Teresa explained.

"Glad to hear she's OK. Is there anything I can get you Jane?" Cho said, standing up to go. He had a lot to do and needed to head out again.

"I'm fine, thanks. Just find Stockman and bring KiKi to us. That's all we need" Jane said solemnly.

"That's the plan. Catch you later." Cho left them alone to mull over this latest news.

"She's alive!" Teresa repeated in wonder, leaning down to kiss Jane in happiness. "They're getting closer Patrick. They know what Stockman's driving and the type of places he's staying. It's just a matter of time and we'll have our baby back home with us" Teresa said with renewed hope. Jane closed his eyes and envisioned his child stubbornly defying Stockman. Was that why she was still breathing?

Jane didn't say anything but opened his arms wide for Teresa to cuddle against him. Could this be the beginning of the end game at last?

(FBI - Austin Texas)

It was long past going home time, but Wylie and his team were not about to quit any time soon. Jane and Teresa meant the world to him and Wylie would stay up all night and the next and the next if it brought Anika home to her parents alive. After a bringing a small bagged supper up from the all night cafeteria, he resumed his task of opening the creaky laptop for inspection to see if Stockman had used it.

The laptop was ancient, and really, like the night manager had said, it was a piece of crap. The on/off button didn't work properly, and the power kept failing. Wylie had to do some rudimentary repairs before he had any hope of gaining useful information from it. After an hour of frustrating work, he tried again to switch the cursed thing on. This time the computer hummed to life and lit up, a relic of an earlier, less app driven digital age. Wylie whooped with satisfaction as the little machine glowed with life, until he tried to do a search on it to see what lay in its history.

The screen went black as smoke poured out from the underside causing Wylie to jump back to avoid sparks.

"No no no!" Wylie shouted as he raced to unplug the thing. The smell of burnt circuits and wiring, along with melted plastic, filled the room. He turned it over, burning his fingers as he quickly worked to put the fire out. By the time the worst of the smoking had stopped, Wylie looked at the computer with undisguised worry. What if the secrets it hid were no longer available, burnt to a crisp? Wylie called down to the IT department and had their best forensic man rush up to take over the restoration of the computer.

When the young man arrived, Wylie sat collapsed with defeat on his well worn chair.

"What's up bud?" the tech guru asked.

"This piece of crap, dinosaurus wreckus, just blew up in my face! I need what's on there and I need it now!" Wylie lamented.

"Leave it to me. What exactly are we looking for?" the man asked with curiosity.

"Everything!" Jason Wylie yelled, running his hands through his short blond hair. "The guy who kidnapped Patrick Jane also kidnapped his daughter. We might be able to find him and the child if we can restore this piece of shit ASAP! Reason enough for ya?" Wylie said in exasperation.

The tech guy Jed barely knew Patrick Jane, but he knew of him and his remarkable skills at catching bad guys. The fact that he was also one of them, the FBI family, and had lost his child, was impetus enough for him to grab the old laptop and take off running.

"I'll get it working, leave it to me Jason!" Jed called over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner with the smoldering old laptop.

With a sigh of resignation, Jason reached for his bagged supper and slowly unwrapped a stale tuna sandwich. His hopes of a speedy search report to Cho had just gone up in flames.

(Texican Motel - Austin Texas, Midnight)

The seedy motel room stank of sweat and stale beer. There was a very good chance living organisms had colonies established in the ancient carpeting. Stockman lay sprawled on the narrow bed, still fully dressed but passed out from one too many beers. Across the room, Anika lay in a small ball on the quilt, tangled up in the threadbare material. She had been awake for a short while and needed to pee, but when she gazed at the large man on the bed, she silently turned away from him and walked into the bathroom to pee without his permission. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. The burger she had eaten hours ago was the first food she had had since being kidnapped and it wasn't enough to fill her up. Eyeing the room, she couldn't find anything else to munch on, and she was also afraid to make noise in case the man woke up and smacked her. Silently, she walked back to her rumpled quilt and gathered it up around her small chilled body, finding solace in its folds of fabric. Her thumb went back into her mouth, giving her the only comfort she could manage until she was back in the sheltering arms of her Daddy and Mummy.

(Austin General Hospital)

Teresa stayed talking quietly with Jane long after she should have left at the announced end of visiting hours. Several nurses had come and gone during the evening, checking up on Patrick's vitals and they had turned a blind eye to the exhausted FBI agent holding vigil at his bedside. But enough was enough. A nurse came in to check up on her patient and spied Teresa, still there, but asleep against her husband's warm body. Patrick was sleeping too, with Teresa laying halfway across his bed, her head and arms on the uninjured side of his body. Viewing the pair of them sympathetically, the nurse hated to rouse either one of them, but the rules were in place for the wellbeing of the patient, not the visitor.

Gently shaking Teresa's shoulder, the nurse woke her up and smiled into her groggy face.

"I'm really sorry, but you must let your husband sleep now. Visiting hours ended hours ago."

Teresa sat up quickly, rumpled and with creases across her face. God she was tired.

"Oh...yeah...sorry. I guess we both fell asleep" she mumbled, looking at Patrick's peaceful face. "I couldn't persuade you to let me stay a bit longer?" she asked, but the nurse shook her head, no.

"Mr. Jane will do better if he really sleeps tonight. If he wakes up and sees you here, he'll feel inclined to visit to keep you company, and so on and so on...so neither of you really gets any rest. We'll take good care of him while you go home to sleep. Really!" the girl said with compassion.

Teresa ran her hand through her messy hair and straightened up. What the girl said made sense, and if Jane got his wish and came home early tomorrow, she had to be ready for him by being alert and well rested. With regret, she leaned over and gave Patrick a light kiss on his forehead, careful not to awaken him. Then she silently left him alone with the nurse, knowing he was in good hands. With one last look behind her, she opened the door, and finally allowed herself to go home.