Warnings for language, and other disgusting scenes.

Alex was in early the next morning, eager to start work. There was a fax waiting for her. She read it, and smiled. Another step towards closing the case. She turned to tell Goren, then realised he wasn't there.

She frowned and glanced at her watch. It was early. She'd give him another hour.

She spent an hour doing paperwork, and glancing at her watch every ten minutes. She desperately wanted to tell him her discovery. Every time the door to the squad room opened, she glanced up, each time expecting to see his graceful bulk striding towards her, eager to hear her news.

But it was never him.

When Deakins came in and saw her worried face and Goren's empty chair, he gave her Goren's number, and suggested she call.

There was no answer. Cold chills began to inch their way down her spine. They'd thought he was out of danger once Toby Shift was dead. They thought the bait had been refused. She was supposed to protect him, and she'd left him alone.

She broke more than a few speeding laws getting to his apartment. She unlocked the door, fumbling with the unfamiliar keys, and came through the door in classic shooter stance.

Empty. Every room, heartbreakingly clean and neat. Every book neatly shelved, and every cupboard carefully closed. His laundry was folded, his dishes washed and precisely shelved. The only thing out of place was the half-eaten TV dinner on the table, next to the battered cardboard file, that had finally disintegrated, and the spilled it's contents over the floor. The cd player was still on, spilling Bach softly into the empty room.

Bobby Goren's spirit was still here, in the carefully chosen books, and the carefully ordered cd's and the papers scattered all over the carefully vacuumed floor. But Bobby Goren's body was long gone.

She called Deakins, reported Goren's disappearance in clipped, official tones. Gently he told her it wasn't her fault. She listened silently, then put the phone down.

CSU would be here in minutes, but they wouldn't find anything. They never had, at any of the scenes. No sign of struggle or a skirmish, nothing to leave any evidence behind. Whatever happened, they'd gone with their killer willingly.

And so had Bobby Goren. Except he must have known. Must have realised when he opened the door that whoever stood there wanted him dead. And still he'd opened the door, and gone with his kidnapper, trusting Alex to find the killer, to find him.

She firmly pushed the panic down.

"I will find him. I will not lose him."

The others had died within twelve hours of being taken. Allowing time for him to get home and start dinner, he was probably taken around nine. That left her an hour and a half to find him. And with the information she'd gotten that morning, she knew where to start.

Ignoring the outraged glances from the neighbours, she banged repeatedly on Tony Schaffer's door until, bleary-eyed, he opened up.

Tony Schaffer. Rebecca's husband. Owner of Treaty Trading Construction. Which, she'd learnt that morning, just happened to be a cover company for other companies that were slightly less pure than the driven slush.

"What?" he asked, concealing a yawn.

"Police. Open up." She said shortly, pushing past him.

"At this hour? What the hell is going on?"

"Did he know?" she demanded, looking round the scruffy rooms.

"Who? Know what?"

"Stephen!" she said contemptuously. "Did he know that your company was a cover for other fly-by-night construction companies that like to kill their workers, especially the non-union ones?"

"No! I don't know…" his voice drifted off, as he pushed his hand through his sleep ruffled hair.

"My partner is missing." She snarled. "He knew I would destroy anybody that got in the way of my finding him, and right now, you're in my way."

Tony Schaffer looked into her angry eyes, and quailed. Any defence or courage he'd ever had crumbled.

"Yeah, Stephen knew." He admitted quietly.

"So, you killed him." she accused. "And then you killed the others, to make it look like he was just the random victim of a serial killer."

"No, I swear!" he held his hands, protesting his innocence, but she grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall.

"Except nothing is random." She continued, as if she wasn't seconds away from choking him. "And now you have my partner. Where is he? If he dies, I swear you'll pay."

"No, my God, how could you think that?" he coughed. She loosened her grip a little.

"Because all the bodies were held and discovered in properties owned by TTC. Your company."

He swallowed dryly.

"I had nothing to do with that. And I don't have your partner. I didn't even know he was missing!"

Alex watched him closely. His panic had the ring of truth. She let him go.

"Oh, I know, the companies all had different names, but in the end they trace back to you. You want to help? I need a list of all the properties owned by your company. And I mean all."

He walked over to the bureau, and started to look through papers, muttering to himself. He moved so slowly, Alex was tempted to pull out her gun and prod him to move faster. Every second was vital, and they were ticking away so fast.

"You know, Stephen deserved it." he said, finally handing the list over to Alex.

"How's that?" she asked, glancing over the list, only half-listening. There were so many places…

"What he did to Rebecca, when they were young."

Alex glanced up sharply. She looked around, and realised Rebecca wasn't there, that she wasn't in the house at all. She looked at Tony, small and blond, the total antithesis of Bobby. She flashed back to Rebecca, having an asthma attack as Bobby leaned over her.

"He abused her." Alex realised.

Tony nodded, confidentially.

"Oh fuck." She whispered, running out of the house. Everything had changed. She'd assumed that the killer was relatively stable, killing only to cover up Stephen's death. But a sexually abused woman, who'd snapped, and killed not only her abuser, but everyone who looked like him – she was wildly unstable. Anything could be happening to Bobby. And there was only an hour left.

She looked down at the list of properties. There were so many, all over the city. And she had no guarantee he'd even been in more of these places. Half-completed apartments, empty warehouses, docks – he could be anywhere. Goren was relying on her to find him, and she had no idea where to start.

"He's dying." She whispered. "You have to find him."

There was no time for logic. Alex decided to try pure blind luck instead. She closed her eyes, waved her finger over the list, and picked an address at random.

It was an apartment block, scheduled for demolition. She considered calling back-up, but reasoned she had no actual proof Bobby was here, just instinct, and a faith in blind luck.

Inside, all the windows were boarded up, but loosely, so sunshine shone through the cracks. Dust floated through the air, giving the empty building a dreamy, unreal quality. Every move she made kicked up new swirls of dust that scattered on the curling linoleum, and the peeling peach paint. And in the dust, she saw tracks.

And blood.

That was when she called for back-up.