"This case could be solved before they'd make it," he answers. "Let's talk to one of the detectives and see if they can spare us a team."

*****

After we gather ourselves some men to search the site, we bring Andrews with us. We keep a close eye on him, making sure he doesn't try anything stupid. Since we don't have anything to legally hold him, he's technically a free man, which means he's not in cuffs. However, Jack and I keep a close distance to Andrews, in case he tries to flee.

"Up here," Andrews points towards the shoulder and then down the ditch towards the woods. "I pulled over and let him out. He started vomiting and that's when I took off."

"You know, Allan, you really should get a Good Samaritan award for your support," Jack adds sarcastically.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help the FBI out."

"You know what would have helped us a lot more? Not leaving the kid," I point out.

"Hey, I didn't want him ruining the interior of my car. The last thing I need is a detail job. You think I can afford that?"

"Not after you're fired from your job," Jack tastefully adds as we leave him in the back of the police car and wander around outside.

Overnight it managed to rain and likely destroyed any evidence that remains. "How far do these woods go back?" I ask the local detective.

"Ten, twenty miles tops."

"He could be anywhere," I state. I walk over towards Jack. "There's a few fast food joints a block back, I noticed. I'm going to walk down and see if he might have gone in looking for help."

"I'll come with you. Detective Connor?" I hear Jack's voice and he walks off to tell him where we're going before he joins me on the short walk.

Jack makes his way over towards me. "I told him to send someone up the road about a mile in case there's any other places Damon might have stopped to get a ride home."

I nod my head in agreement as we walk down to the fast food chain. We step inside, showing our badges to the cashier. "We're with the FBI," I introduce us, "Agents Malone and Spade. We're here about the disappearance of Damon Relic."

"Oh, yeah, I heard about him on the news," the young girl tells us.

"Do you know if he might have come in here Sunday night? We know he was about a block north of here," I tell her. "He was inebriated and looking for a ride home."

"Um, I left around midnight. I can get my manager; he might know." She quickly finds her boss before shying away from us. Jack and I both pick up on her behavior.

Jack decides to speak with the manager while I talk to the young girl.

"Did something happen that night?" I eye her as she bites her fingernails, chewing them down to the core as her hand shakes slightly.

"I--" she pauses letting out an unsteady breath, "I don't know."

"Tell me what you do know," I answer calmly and in a soft voice.

"I was driving home and I saw someone on the side of the road. He looked like he wasn't sure where he was going. He started coming out onto the road and I swerved into the other lane. Luckily it was empty, so I didn't hit him," she tells me, "or anyone else." Her eyes meet mine. "Can I go back to work now."

"One final question: what kind of car were you driving?"

"A silver Ford Focus."

"Thanks," I nod, as the girl heads off and I make my way back towards Jack.

"What'd you find out?" He eyes me as we slip out of the burger joint and into the parking lot. I glance around at the cars, looking for any signs of damage or blood, specifically on a Focus.

"She almost hit him---he came out onto the road. My guess is he was probably trying to stop traffic to get a ride back."

"Or he wandered out into the street," Jack comments. "What are you hoping to find?" He eyes me as I glance from one car to the next to find nothing.

"Evidence that she might be lying and she actually hit him."

"You're assuming she didn't clean or repair any minor damage," Jack adds.

"What else do we really have to go on?" I eye him and let out a soft sigh.

"I'll call Danny and relay him the news. They can make the trip up here tomorrow, since they're not doing us any good back at home." Jack adds.

After he finishes the call, he slips away from my grasp and dials another number. I can only assume its Maria. I don't eavesdrop on his conversation especially because he's out of earshot.

I start making my way back towards the other detectives, hoping there's something we can go on.

"Agent Spade," I hear Detective Connor's voice, "we found a torn piece of clothing with blood on it."

"Where?" My eyes widen as I signal for Jack's attention. He follows towards me as I walk with Detective Connor into the woods and am shown where the fabric was lying.

"Right here," he answers. "It was caught on a branch."

"We're pretty far in," I comment, glancing around. "Why would he have been going deeper into the forest? Doesn't make much sense."

I hear Jack's footsteps crunching along the cold ground as he moves to step up beside me. "Running from something," he adds eyeing me. "As soon as it's confirmed whose blood is on there, I want to know," Jack tells Connor sternly.

Jack heads back out of the forest the way we came. If it weren't for the teams making their way past us, and the sun still up, we'd likely be turned around and easily lost in the woods.

"What are you thinking?" I glance towards Jack.

"We might be too late," he answers with a sigh.

"It was only a scrap of clothing," I remind him. "We haven't found a body."

"It's only a matter of time until the woods are combed and we find him, Samantha."

"Don't give up hope so easily," I state, taking his hand and giving it a soft squeeze before letting go and heading into the police car we came in.

"Can I go home yet?" Andrews questions as I open the door and sit up front.

"You recognize this?" I show him the sealed bag with the small piece of clothing.

"Yeah, the kid was wearing that when I picked him up."

"He's probably dead now," Jack spits out, moving beside me in the front seat to sit down. I scoot over, sitting behind the wheel, as I turn my neck to see Andrews' face.

"You don't feel an ounce of guilt for what you did?"

"Why should I be guilty for his sins?" His teeth are clenched and his jaw tight. "I paid for my own."

I eye Jack, curious about what all this means.

"You mean the reckless endangerment charge you got when you were twenty?" Jack's eyes are sharp and dark, hiding something.

"Exactly; it's ancient history. I'm a clean man."

I laugh aloud at the thought. "You don't know the definition of such a thing!" I step out of the car and slam the door. I head out towards the sidewalk and then there's the street. Cars are whizzing by with no thought of anyone else on the road. A few drivers slow down to see what all the commotion is about but, for the most part, they go about their daily lives, forgetting about anyone but themselves.

"Sam," I hear Jack's voice and turn my head slightly to meet his eyes.

"I'm fine," I reassure him, "just needed to get out of the car."

"I could tell," he answers. "Come on," he helps me to my feet and into Detective Connor's car for a lift back to the station to retrieve Jack's car.