A/N: Hope this chapter will be more intriguing than the last. Please R&R if you get a chance. Thanks.
Someone was laughing.
Sarah knew this wasn't right. She lived alone. But she knew what she heard. So she went out of her bedroom, her eyes barely registering that it was 4:38 am, and she walked down the hall. The soft carpeting padded her footsteps, muffling her approach into the spare bedroom. Carefully, she pushed open the door.
Her eyes already adjusted to the dark, she had no problem discerning the objects around the room. In the shadows she could make out her dresser and the solitary plant standing in the corner. A hanging mirror reflected the few beams of moonlight slipping through the blinds, bringing enough light to make out the shape lying on her bed; a familiar shape which brought back painful memories.
Closer she stepped, her breath catching as she took in the blonde hair, the pale skin. But his back was to her, and she wanted to see his face, wanted to gaze into those eyes again. Her feet brought her to the side of the bed, and her trembling hand reached out to touch his shoulder, to turn him toward her, and she called out his name.
"Toby?"
Her eyes flew open and she brought herself up from the bed. In her room again, the sun filtering in between the blinds, she drew in a ragged breath before pulling herself from the sweat soaked covers and crossing the room to her dresser. Her fingers briefly caressed the photo of her baby brother before she slammed the frame down and walking into the bathroom for a shower.
Twenty minutes later she crossed the decent sized apartment through the living room and into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Immediately she paused in drying her hair with her towel to stare at the coffee already poured, and then smiled. "Good morning, Stutz."
"At 5:27 this morning, 6 year old Jessica Huntley was returned to her parents after being reported missing two days prior. She was discovered in the office of Tobias Planenly, the manager of the countryside's phone cable company Taricon. Special Agent Sarah Williams with the Federal Bureau of Investigation discovered the presence of Planenly in a number of Huntley's family pictures, giving away the only lead of the daughter's location. At 3:57 AM, the girl was taken into police custody and treated for a mild case of hypothermia. Planenly was found dead at the scene. After a thorough investigation of the office and apartment on the second floor, it was discovered that Planenly was a self proclaimed demon hunter, seeking young victims that he believed to be possessed and eradicating the spirits through ritual surgeries. No word has been released on whether or not Planenly has been involved in the three previous missing case reports regarding children this year." He slammed the paper don on the table and gave her an approving smirk. "Sarah Williams, child detective, cracks the case again."
Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "That article is three days old," she remarked, tossing her towel over a chair and pressing her back into the counter before taking in with a sigh of satisfaction the first sip of the strong, bold Columbian coffee she practically lived for. The moment of mediation was short lived when her companion cleared his throat, reminding her of his uninvited presence.
"The Huntley's wish to see you, to thank you personally."
Sarah opened her eyes and gazed at Special Agent James Stutsman, sitting casually upon the thin wooden chair with one leg sticking out, the jeans clearly torn in various places, and one muscled arm draped across the back. His brown hair fell in a few pieces to shadow his dark eyes, making him appear mysterious, and at his hip, as always, was his standard issue 9mm Beretta. As a member of the FBI Field Offices, he worked hand in hand with her and other Agents from the Child Abduction and Serial Murder Investigative Resource Center, or CASMIRC. "I'm afraid they missed the golden opportunity, unless they intend to make the hour and a half drive here."
"I told them you were very busy on your next case."
"And that case would be?"
He pulled an envelope from under the newspaper and handed it to her. "I wasn't allowed to know. It's G-14 classified."
Even if she tried, Sarah couldn't keep the smile from her lips at his joke from Rush Hour, one of his favorite Jackie Chan films. Her fingers grasped the business envelope and made quick work of opening it. Inside was a letter.
Signed by her boss.
"Damn it."
"No."
Her eyes lifted and she gave him a questioning look. "No?"
Stutz' eyes left no room for argument. "You are taking a vacation, end of story, go back to bed and don't show your face around work until two weeks from now."
Sarah's jaw practically hit the floor. "I beg your pardon? What the hell is this?" She shook the letter at him. "I didn't put in any request for a leave of absence."
"No, but I did, as well as half the Kidnapping and Missing Persons department, and everyone from CASMIRC. Sarah, you are excellent at what you do. You have the imagination and the insight to take unseen views on cases, and you have been lucky enough to solve every case that has been put past you. But it's been three years. Three years! And you haven't taken a break once. Your record may be outstanding, your reputation known across the country, but it's not doing you any good."
"Me any good? Children are being abducted everyday, Stutz. Why the hell should I care about me?"
Stutz stood up and walked the few paces separating them. "Because if you are so tired that you make a careless mistake, if you are too sick or weak to take care of yourself, and something happens to you, who will be there to solve the next cases that come up? Look at yourself, Sarah. You're killing yourself in an attempt to solve everything that is put in front you, but you can't save everyone."
"I already know that," she whispered.
Stutz flinched. Touchy subject. "You did all you could for them," he replied. "At least they were found."
"Just not soon enough."
He sighed, bowed his head, his voice becoming soft and low as he continued. "You need this break, and if you won't take it for yourself, please take it for me." With a raise of his head, his eyes captured hers and held them. "You need to give yourself a chance to rest… a chance to heal." His hand rose up to wrap around her neck, the thumb softly caressing her jaw. "A chance to give us both some peace."
Sarah held her tongue of the denial she was about to fling in his face, but his eyes pleaded with her to do as he asked. He was only looking out for her best interests, and she knew he could see the exhaustion behind her eyes; that he could see the wounds that continued to bleed. And she knew that he was right. "I think you're just trying to get rid of me so I don't continue to trample your reputation."
He gave a snort and shook his head. "Right, like I'll ever be able to make ends meet with you."
"And don't you forget it. I'm the one who wears the pants in this partnership." She gave him a wide smile before her voice became a bit more serious. "And I suppose I could use some time off," she allowed. "But don't expect me to stay away from the office completely. After a while of all this relaxation, I may be likely to go out of my mind."
Stutz groaned and looked to the ceiling, but acquiesced. "If it'll keep you out of the office, I'll call you once in a while and keep you informed."
"That's a good boy," she replied and patted his cheek. "Now off with you, I have some food shopping to do." She shooed him away with her hands.
"I'm going, I'm going!" He quickly made his way for the door. Just before he walked out, though, he turned and called to her. When her gaze met his, he gave a gratuitous smile. "Thanks." Then he disappeared behind the closed door.
At which point Sarah collapsed into a chair and groaned, her head falling into her hands. Now that she'd been thrown out of work, just what was she supposed to do with herself? Her head fell back, eyes roaming across the ceiling, down the walls, around the silent room. Shadows danced across the floor from the branches moving in the sunlight outside her bay windows. Swaying back and forth to music she couldn't hear, Sarah became enchanted by the moving branches' black reflections. The elm outside her bedroom window used to sway in the breeze, making her room breath with light and dark. The mirror would glint when the branches retreated, and her room became a haven of warmth, brightness, comfort. Then the wind would push the branches back in front of her mirror, again cloaking it in cool darkness. The shadows dimmed, everything appeared flat, the life drained away with the lack of light; until the branches again hid behind the house, playing an endless game of tag with the winds.
Sarah sighed. Her eyes roamed the room again, drinking in her childhood indulgences. Unicorns, dragons, princes on white horses, fantasy posters, fairytales, stuffed toys and makeup. There were pictures of her family, her mother and Jeremy, toys scattered across her bureau, Lancelot sitting on the floor and Toby playing with him, laughing while making the bear dance.
He made a giggling noise and looked up to give her a toothy smile.
"Sarah!"
Returning his smile, she reached her hand out to brush his hair with her fingertips. The shadows moved across the room again, placing brother and sister in darkness. Coldness brushed her hand, and when the light returned, her brother did not.
She bit back a gasp, her body straightened and a chill ran through her. No more, she thought to herself. Get up, move around, no time to sit and daydream. Such a childish thing, and she no longer played with childish things. Rising with grace, she walked into the kitchen to finish her coffee and begin making plans for her day. Two weeks leave was a long time to fill. Surely she could find something to keep her busy.
Silently, the eyes continued to watch her from their place behind the window pane, waiting.
The fan was loud, only slightly muffled by the ear protection donning her head. Lane 5 was hers, as always, and she adjusted her tinted glasses. One finger was pressed against the toggle switch, a whirring sound accompanying the cord that flew done the track. Right there, that was where she wanted it. Her finger released the switch.
A deep breath. In. Out.
The range echoed each explosion back to her, while the paper target tore and shuddered with every round that penetrated the thin resistance. Ten rounds fired, the empty magazine was removed, a new one replaced. The slide was released, the cold metal propelling forward and locking into place, and the cycle began all over again.
When she pressed on the switch again, the target came back to her, and she couldn't hid the smile of satisfaction. All twenty rounds, fired in the nine and ten circles. A sharpshooter she had become, and it was a damn good feeling. She placed the target in her bag and hung up a new one on the track before sending it out.
For an hour she amused herself with different weapons, different positions, and different distances. Now dripping with sweat from the humidity and her arms groaning in protest of too much use, she cleared her guns and packed them up. A few moments were spent sweeping away the expelled bullet casings from the firing lane, and she walked out into the air conditioned room with a satisfied sigh. Her ear and eye protection also went into the bag. She gave Mr. Matthis a grateful smile.
"Done killing all those targets?"
"Just for today."
"Is this how you spend all of your vacations?" he couldn't help teasing.
She shook her head. "If I took vacations, I'd be able to tell you. This is a new thing for me."
"Well let me share you a little secret, my dear." He leaned closer, hushing his voice. "Vacations consist of sandy beaches and drinks with umbrellas, not a gun range and a punching bag."
Sarah's eyebrow quirked. "What gives you the idea that's what I've been doing?" She placed the .12 gauge shotgun down on the counter for him to inspect, as well as the .22 magnum and the six shooter he always lent her.
"You've been here every other day for the past week, and people have seen you at the gym all this week." He gave her a soft smile, though a touch of sadness could be seen in his eyes. "You're too young too get trapped in all this. You need to get away, dear."
Sarah's friendly smile melted. "Get away from what? A job I love? The families that want their loved ones back?"
"The insanity that you'll bring yourself to," he answered, equally cold. "I've seen it too many times. It gets in your head, in your blood, and drives you to the edge. You're good, Sarah. Too good, I sometimes think. And we can't afford for you to become a lethal weapon."
Sarah's anger flared. "How dare you think me a threat?"
"Aren't you?"
Her fist slammed on the table top, startling both with the force. "I would never put my comrades in danger-"
"I wasn't talking about them," Mr. Matthis countered quietly.
Sarah leaned back, her appearance suddenly collected. "What?"
"I'm talking about you."
Her mouth opened to reply when the door to the armory burst open and a group of rookies walked in, ready for some training time on the range. They were loud and obnoxious, the passing leers and appreciative glances not going unnoticed. The room was suddenly too crowded for her liking, so she grabbed her bag and walked out, making sure to give Mr. Matthis a last look that clearly stated their conversation wasn't over. Roughly she pushed past the young cops who purposely got in her way, not caring that one was shoved right into the wall with a yelp.
"That hurt!"
She paused and gave him a cold smile. "Then maybe you're not tough enough to play with the big boys."
Some of the guys hooted in her favor, others glared.
Sarah didn't give a damn either way. It was true, after all. Hell hath no fury like a woman winner.
Her satisfaction was as short lived as the sunny weather. Dark clouds hung low, ominous to the coming rains, and reflecting her current state of mind. As she drove home, voices filled her head, drowning out the thunder above.
…you think me a threat…
…I'm talking about you…
…your reputation known across the country, but it's not doing you any good…
…did all you could for them…
…not soon enough…
Miller, Arya, Rellman, Ionvinkski, Netter, Alise. Sarah flinched, but shook her head to try and clear them, to no avail. They plagued her, taunted her with their lifeless eyes and cold fingers. Once again, the guilt crashed over her in waves, blurring her eyes for just a second.
Six children stood in the middle of the street.
Her foot was on the brake before she realized what was happening. The tires screeched, she was rammed forward into the steering wheel, the seat belt cut deep into her chest and she was back against her seat with breathtaking force. The clouds in front of her eyes cleared, and she gazed in absolute shock out the windshield. The sight took her breath away, dropped her mouth in a silent cry of surprise.
Nothing.
Beyond the headlights of her car was a normal empty street, complete with trees and houses off to the sides, and cars parked along the curb. Everything was as it should be nothing out of the ordinary. Lightning cracked the sky, thunder rumbled, and the rain began to pour.
Laughter filled her car. "I'm losing my mind." A cough interrupted her, and when she regained her breathing, she continued home, laughing occasionally to help break up the tense moment. Though Sarah had to put some effort into ignoring the little voice in her mind, a voice that sounded oddly like Mr. Matthis, and kept whispering,
"…It gets in your head, in your blood, and drives you to the edge…"
I'm losing my mind.
He leaned back in his chair and groaned. This was just too much, and he could feel himself cracking. His head throbbed, his eyes burned with lack of sleep, and his body wasn't up to par in stamina or in smell. After a sniff, his nose wrinkled in disgust. He needed a shower. But he also needed a lead; a break in the monotonous cases and questions and clues that weren't coming together.
Of course, there was always Sarah…
Stutz shook his head. "Back to work." Forcing himself forward, he looked again at the papers and pictures scattered across his desk. In the past three days, five children had gone missing in the area. The same conclusion had been drawn that it was by one culprit, a collector. His targets were six year old children, blonde haired and blue eyed, male and female. There was no pattern in choosing his victims, none of the children had known each other, they lived in different parts of the area, had nothing in common accept appearance.
But there had to be something else to link them together. Stutz scanned the files. They were laid out across his desk, pictures scattered over scene and family descriptions. His eyes hunted for a clue, a missing piece that would help reveal the children's location, or the collector's identity. All he saw were frozen smiles and letters. The names went by again. Arron Restone, Naomi Myrra, Jeff Nicst, Natalie Arket, Derek Argano. First two were reported missing on the 16th; second two on the 17th, the last reported earlier that day-
Stutz head shot up. Holy shit! His eyes looked over at the calendar. "Oh, God."
Today was the 18th of October.
His mind now a frenzy, he began looking through the files again, listing the locations of the kidnappings. "Silver Springs," he muttered. "Laurel… Rockville… Bethesda… Wheaton." Upon reading the last city, chills ran through him. The places were the same as before. The dates matched, as did the similarities in the chosen victims. Only, this time, the children had been blonde and blue eyed. This time there were only five. One city was missing from the list. No taunting note had been received either.
A sharp rap pulled his eyes to the door. In walked a young deputy carrying a manila folder. A solemn look met Stutz' steady gaze, and already the detective knew what had happened.
"A sixth missing person," the officer said, handing the file over. "Just reported an hour ago. Michelle Isberque from Gairhesburg. Her description matches the rest."
"Damn!" Stutz was on his feet in an instant, all the files being shoved together in a sloppy pile. He had to see Williams, the thought making him wince. He was not going to enjoy sharing the news. A voice called his attention.
"Sir, there's something else." The officer held up his hand. "This was found near the place she was last seen." He threw it at the detective, who caught it deftly and examined it. "What do you think it is?"
Stutz shook his head. "A calling card? I don't know." It was placed in his coat pocket and he began to head out the door. "Let the Captain know I'm bringing Agent Williams on the case. Tell him… tell him the kidnapper could be the one who got away." Then Stutz left in long strides, leaving the deputy to stare after him in confusion.
Is it getting good yet?