It was like any other night.

Of course, that's how every case starts. You don't expect it, yet it happens. A murder, perhaps, or a robbery. In this case, it was the kidnapping of Benjy Fleming that set everything into motion.

-SF-

Sharona Fleming tucked her son into bed and double-checked that he'd brushed his teeth well that night.

"Yes, mom," he said, rolling his eyes.

"All right, all right!" Sharona raised her hands defensively. "Just asking." She kissed his forehead. "Goodnight, Benjy."

She switched off the lights and retired to her own room, exhausted from work. Monk had been no less confusing and, well, Monk-like today than he'd ever been, and it'd worn her out. She was asleep before she knew it.

Benjy lay awake for a bit, and then he too dozed off. But he was woken a few hours later by the window flying open, and a strong grip holding him tight. He screamed and tried to shake the thing off, whatever it was, but he was just a child and didn't have enough strength.

Sharona burst into Benjy's bedroom just as the window swung shut.

"Benjy? Benjy?" She ran to the window and flung it open. "Benjy!" she screamed. "Benjy!"

-SF-

"And you didn't hear anything, or see the kidnapper's face?" Stottlemeyer asked, for the fourth time that morning. It was barely 4:00. Monk, Natalie, Captain Stottlemeyer, and Lieutenant Disher had arrived two hours before to question Sharona. She sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. Around 3:00, Randy had gone to get everyone coffee from a 24/7 mart. Sharona's was stone cold now; she hadn't touched it.

Sharona shook her head no. Stottlemeyer let out a tired sigh and his whole posture slumped. "I just don't get it. How could someone – or something – possibly come in without making a sound, and then carry a thirteen-year-old boy out a window, disappearing without a trace? It's impossible!"

"Are we sure it was just one kidnapper? Not two or three?" Natalie asked. In one hand she held her coffee, sipping at it when she needed the energy, though it wasn't warm anymore. Her other rested tenderly on Sharona's shoulder. The women may not have always gotten along, but when it came down to it she loved Sharona like a sister and hated to see her unhappy.

"No, it was one," Monk said confidently. Everyone looked at him, including Sharona. He didn't bother to explain. "Trust me, there was only one person in Benjy's room."

"This still doesn't make any sense," Stottlemeyer mused. "Nothing's broken? Not a single thing in his room, save for the window, disturbed? And there's no footprints, either. Surely there has to be visible footprints on a carpet like that."

Sharona turned her pale blue eyes to Randy, taking him by surprise. "Randy, where's my son?"

There was a sharp intake of breath from the Captain, earning him a pointed look from Natalie. Monk pretended to see a speck of dust on his jacket. All three of them waited, wondering how the Lieutenant would answer a grieving mother, who clearly wasn't herself.

Randy, though, shocked them all with his reply. He silently sat down in the kitchen chair next to Sharona and reached to take her hands, but then thought better of it and drew back.

"Sharona," he said, calmly looking her in the eye. "Whoever took Benjy will pay with all their life. I promise we'll find him, safe and sound."

"Okay," Sharona whispered. Natalie handed her a kleenex to dry her eyes. Monk, thoughtfully, pretended not to notice when Sharona placed the tissue on the table instead of throwing it out (though he disposed of it himself when he thought no one was looking).

"Sharona, I'd like to see the crime scene again," Monk said a moment later.

"It's not a crime scene," Sharona snapped. "It's Benjy's bedroom."

Monk shifted his weight. "I'd like to see Benjy's bedroom, please."

Sharona stood up, and her company followed her through the small flat and into Benjy's room. Instantly, Monk noticed something.

"Sharona, do you have mice?"

"What?" Sharona wrinkled her nose.

Monk pointed to the carpet. "There are mice tracks on the floor."

Sharona looked at the shagged carpet that covered Benjy's room. Visible, tiny prints were indented into the fabric.

"I don't remember ever seeing one," Sharona said, confused.

"It's not uncommon for apartments like this to have a rodent problem," Randy said, his hands on his hips. Sharona eyed him.

"'Apartments like this'?"

"Well it's not exactly Buckingham Palace in here."

"Gee, thanks a lot, Randy," Sharona muttered.

"Why don't we all just go back to the station and try to sort this out?" Stottlemeyer cut in, stopping the argument in its tracks. He secretly liked seeing Sharona bite back at Randy, because it meant Randy was lifting her spirits without even realizing it.

"I'd rather stay here." Sharona glanced warily at the window, as if Benjy would suddenly reappear.

Stottlemeyer started walking to the door. "Sharona, he's not going to show up at random," he called over his shoulder.

"He's right you know," Natalie said softly, tugging gently on Sharona's sleeve to get her to move. "There's no point in staying."

"All right," Sharona said reluctantly. She followed the rest of them out the door, but not before shooting one last look at the window. She just hoped they'd find Benjy unharmed.