Title: Mind Games
Discloser: I own none of the Without a Trace Characters. I only own Elizabeth Malone, and if she turns out to be an actual person, then I really wouldn't own her either.

A/N: Like on my other story, please only give constructive comments, no flaming! If you read the story at all, I would really like you to review. If you review my story, I'll review one of yours. Thanks!

A/N: This is part two in my Martin/Elizabeth series. It's not necessary to read part one, but it will give you some background information and will probably help you understand this story a lot better. I have no idea where this story is going to take me, but I hope that all of my faithful reviewers stick with me.

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A few minutes later, we pull up at the apartment building, knowing that this was going to be a task. The building was old, run-down, and looked like a stiff breeze could blow it over. There were people hanging around outside, who looked like, and probably were, stoned out of their minds. Danny and I huff it up four flights of stairs, before we find someone who appears to be alive enough to answer some questions, and it just happens to be our girl, Michelle Roberts.

"Excuse me, Michelle Roberts? We're with the FBI,"

He barely gets that sentence out of his mouth, when the girl bolts down the hallway, trying to escape us. Danny chases after Michelle, while I cut her off at the staircase.

"Look, you're under arrest for evading a federal agent. Which one of those apartments is yours?"
"I don't have to tell you anything."
"See, that's where you're wrong."

I say, taking over before Danny blows a fuse.

"Withholding evidence is a crime, and if you choose to commit that crime, we'll arrest you, and get a warrant forcing you to tell us. Either way, we're going to find out which apartment is yours."
"4 B."

She finally spits out. Danny handcuffs her and drags her back up to her apartment, so I can search for any kind of clues. Opening her door, we are hit in the face with the strong smell of alcohol and marijuana.

"Great, if the kid is here, she's probably going to have brain damage for the rest of her life."

Danny mutters under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear him. I inch my way back into the bedroom, finding some baby clothes on the bed, but no baby. There are some used needles on the bed, and a large sum of money lying around. Deciding that there was no baby here, I walk into the living room, where Danny was holding Michelle.

"Where's the baby, Michelle?"
"What baby?"
"The one that you stole from the grocery store two nights ago. The little baby that you took out of the cart? Ring any bells here?"
"I didn't take any baby."

Danny and I take her back downstairs, into our car, and take her back to the office, putting her in the interview room.

"Is that Roberts?"
"Yeah, Jack. She's pretty stoned right now, but from the way she was acting at the apartment, Ms. Roberts appears coherent enough to stand some questioning."
"Then you and Elle go in there, Danny, squeeze what information you can out of her. Go bulldog on her."
"Are you giving me permission to get in her face?"
"Don't push it Daniel, just go do it."
"You got it, Jack."

Danny walks out of the room and into the room where I'm sitting with Michelle.

"I'm telling you two. I don't know anything about some baby!"
"Stop lying to us. We have you on a surveillance tape picking Maggie up out of the cart, and walking out of the store with her. That's enough to get you convicted, don't you think, Agent Malone?"
"I think so, Agent Taylor."
"See, Michelle? We have enough to put you away for a very long time, unless…"
"Unless what?"

She asks, shifting in her seat. From the looks of it, Danny's words are sinking into her head and making her realize that she could very well be going to prison if she doesn't confess.

"Unless you tell us where Maggie Williams is. She's just a little girl; she can't defend herself, Michelle. Her parents are very worried about her."
"I don't have her any more."

My heart sinks, and I can tell that Danny is thinking the same thing I am.

"What do you mean you don't have her anymore? Where did you leave her?"
"I gave her away."
"Which druggie did you give her to? Did you give her away for pot? Some special k? Come on, Michelle, we're going to find out eventually."

"It wasn't a druggie; it was a lawyer, out in Manhattan."
"Which lawyer?"
"His name was Napolitano. I can't remember his first name. He said that he could find her a real good home, and make sure she was taken care of by a good family."

Danny and I walk out, meeting with Dad, Viv, Sam, and Martin.

"Who is this Napolitano guy, Sam?"

Dad asks Sam, who had been running the name into her computer.

"He's a low class lawyer in Manhattan, usually he does some pro bono cases, but lately he's been working his way up the food chain. He's, uh, he's been running an underground adoption service. It's not legitimate in the least bit, but he fakes the papers enough to make them look real, so nobody knows that he's a fake. "
"How does he get the kids?"
"From drug addicts, like Michelle, who need the cash, or from hospitals."
We all stare up at Sam, like she was crazy or something.
"He will find parents with certain qualities: blonde hair, blue eyes, smart, athletic, things like that. When they have they're baby, he poses as one of the nurses, and switches the baby with another child."

It's then that the agents of the missing persons unit realize that there is something going on here that is much bigger than we could've imagine; much bigger than anybody could've imagined. We had just stepped into the looking glass, and nothing would ever be the same again.