"Daddy, wake up! Wake up, Daddy, please."

Jane grunted and tried to turn over. "Wanna sleep," he muttered.

"Daddy, please!"

"Daddy's … tired Charlotte," he whispered, his eyes still closed. He knew he should get up and play with his daughter, but he was just so exhausted. He couldn't remember the previous night, but he must have been out late to feel like this. He hoped Angela would come and get Charlotte. He needed to sleep.

"Please Daddy," his little girl sounded as if she was almost crying. His forehead crinkled in a frown and he took a deep breath – or at least tried to. A sharp pain ran through his side all the way to the back. Damn, what had he done to himself?

He finally managed to pry his eyes open and blinked two or three times. Why was it so dark? Surely Charlotte hadn't got up in the middle –

He took a sharp breath in – and the pain hit again. But it also brought him back to the present.

Charlotte wasn't here – hadn't been for years. She was dead and it had only been a dream. He felt that horrible, familiar stab in his chest, but this time it was emotional rather than physical. He much preferred the physical.

No, Charlotte was gone, and he was in their cave by the beach, running for his life from the three men who had kidnapped him. But why had he woken up so suddenly? He would like to have believed it really was Charlotte – but his logical mind said it must have been something else.


As Zack returned along the beach he'd just recently traversed, he was feeling confident that he'd find Jane in the cave he'd passed earlier. If he hadn't turned around just when he did – when the moon was shining brightly, illuminating everything, he would have missed the dark entrance. He was positive that his prey had to know about it. It was right at the base of the hill where his house sat.

Zack approached quietly towards the cave, although he wasn't that worried. He was positive Jane didn't have a weapon and he was wounded, so he wasn't going to present much of a challenge.

He grinned, thinking about his encounter with the curly headed guy. What was stopping him from having some fun before he slit the guy open? No – maybe he'd have fun with him and slit him open at the same time. That would be highly erotic! He'd never done a snuff movie before, hell, he'd never done any kind of a movie, but he'd seen them and he'd gotten turned on by them! Why not do a live one of his own?

He finally arrived at the cave, stopped outside and listened. It had grown dark again, as clouds had moved to cover the moon and he could barely see. Nor could he hear anything over the sound of the waves behind him, but the Jane guy had to be here. There couldn't be any other place he could be hiding.


Jane suddenly heard a sound. If he hadn't been listening he would have missed it under the sound of the waves, which echoed throughout the cave. He was sure that what he had heard were footsteps approaching.

Whoever was after him must have found his hiding place. He felt the panic well up into his chest and his breathing quickened, becoming more shallow. He looked around and realized it had grown darker, which caused him to panic even more, at least until he grasped the fact that the moon must have gone behind a cloud. He closed his eyes briefly, hoping it would stay hidden. Although he was frightened it only took a few seconds to decide his chances were actually better in the dark. He had the advantage of knowing the cave – his pursuer didn't.

The footsteps drew closer, crunching on the sand and broken seashells which dotted the beach. He knew he had to move, had to stand. He was too vulnerable lying down so, as quietly and as quickly as he could, he forced himself to his feet and moved away from the cave entrance. He slid carefully to the left side of the cave and leaned against the wall. If he had been unable to brace himself he knew he would have ended up slipping back to the ground in an inglorious heap. He was still incredibly dizzy, and felt weak and disoriented. He knew, however, that he had to keep his wits about him if he were to survive this night.

It suddenly dawned on him that he had nothing with which to protect himself. It's not that he was particularly good with guns, and he hated knives, but right now he would have given anything to have some kind of weapon.

The footsteps stopped, but he knew that whoever was there was now right outside the cave and he only had a few seconds to try and find something to defend himself.

He put his foot out and circled it around, without much hope that he would be – wait! There! His foot hit something and he hooked the toe of his shoe around it and pulled it forward. It was difficult, but he was able to reach down and grab whatever it was. It turned out to be a rock – a rock that was only about the size of an orange and one that certainly wasn't very formidable as far as a weapon was concerned, but it would have to do. It was certainly better than nothing.

It was only as he picked up the rock that it dawned on him that he was still clutching Charlotte's doll. He knew he should put it down, but for some reason he couldn't bear to do that. It was a connection to her – and right now that was about all he had with him in this cave. At least if he died here, he would die with his daughter in his heart and mind.


"Hello Ms. Jane," Zack called. Yup, he was gonna have fun. At the last minute he pocketed his gun and instead grabbed the switchblade in his pocket. That way there would be no chance of ricochets – and he much preferred gutting to shooting.

He called again, and then he stepped into the cave's entrance.

Damn! It would have to be Zack, the unstable and probably most vicious of the three, Jane realized. He could feel his heart speed up once more, and he had to concentrate on not giving away his position through his breathing, which had turned into panting because of fear. He pulled out all his biofeedback techniques to prohibit a full case panic attack.

"I know you're there, Missy Jane," the voice continued. "How about you and I have some fun together before I kill you? You're so pretty – I'm gonna enjoy playin' with you!"

Jane stopped breathing when he heard the louder crunch of shoes on pebbles as Zack entered the cave. By now his eyes had grown somewhat accustomed to the dark, and he could see the faint outline of a leg as it appeared.

Patrick took a deep, shaky, but thankfully silent breath, and waited for Zack to get closer. The man was being careful and was moving slowly. He probably couldn't see anything, especially after coming in from outside where there was more light. At least Patrick hoped that was the case.

Zack stopped, probably in order to listen for any sound. Patrick froze and held his breath, knowing the next few seconds could change – or end – his life. Nothing happened for what seemed like hours, although it couldn't have been more than a handful of seconds. The next moment Zack took a step forward, and then another and another until he stepped directly in front of Jane. Fortunately he wasn't facing his quarry but was facing towards the back of the cave. Jane was on his left side, still leaning against the wall and waiting for his moment.

Jane took in one deep lungful of air at the same time as he lifted his arm. Then, with all the strength that was left in him, he stepped forward and quickly brought his hand down – the hand that was tightly gripping the small rock.

Something – a hiss of sound, a flash of movement –alerted Zack so that he turned at just the moment the rock would have connected with his skull.

It ended up grazing him in the face, hitting his nose and then lip. He let out a sharp cry, stumbled back but then almost immediately righted himself.

"You fuckin' bastard! I'm gonna kill you," he shouted.


"Teresa Lisbon, CBI," she said, holding out her badge to the officer on duty. "These are my team mates, agents Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt. Have you seen or heard anything?"

"No, just the one guy who was moving around out front a while ago. He eventually went back in the house and we haven't seen anything since then. We know someone went upstairs because the lights went on, but that was a while ago too. Do we know what we're looking for?" Officer Szabo asked, his eyes continually moving towards Grace, who was ignoring him completely and watching the house.

"We're not sure," Teresa replied. "We suspect someone may be holding Patrick Jane hostage – he's a consultant with our team and we've been unable to reach him."

"So the guy who answered the door earlier, that wasn't him?"

"We don't think so," Grace answered.

"But why would they bring him here?" the officer frowned, looking towards the house.

"It's his house," Cho answered shortly as he moved behind Lisbon.

"Really? He lives in Malibu and he's a consultant with the CBI? Must be nice to have so much money you can play at being a cop."

"He's not playing," Lisbon snapped. "He's a valuable member of my team and he's in trouble. Now, let's figure out how to get him out of there!"


Jane knew he'd probably lost his one and only chance, but there was no way in hell he was going to just lie down and die. Without allowing himself to think about what he was doing, he rushed towards Zack as soon as the other man fell back. He didn't see the knife the other man was holding, nor did he think about what, exactly, he was going to do. He also forgot about the doll, which was still clutched tightly in his left hand.

Zack saw his prey rushing towards him and grinned. He lifted the knife – figuring he would disable Jane and then have some fun with him before he killed him. At that precise moment something caught Zack's eye and he glanced to the left.

"Aargh!" he screamed as a horrible apparition appeared in front of him. It looked as if it was reaching for him so he instinctively slashed at it with his knife. He felt it hit something – once, twice, three times – but still the apparition kept moving towards him. He screamed again and covered his face with his hands, terrified and completely forgetting the knife still clutched in his hand.

Jane felt something hit Charlotte's doll, but before he could figure out what it was, he felt a sharp burning on his bicep and then down his left side. He gasped and stepped back, but then was halted by Zack's screaming.

Patrick's brain still wasn't functioning properly, so he couldn't figure out what was going on. He did know, however, that suddenly he had a second chance. The rock was still clutched in his hand and he swiftly – as swiftly as he could when about ready to collapse – flew forward. This time he didn't miss and the rock connected sharply with the side of Zack's head. The other man collapsed without a sound.

Jane stood, swaying and looking down at his tormentor, by this time so exhausted and sick it took him many seconds before it dawned on him that the other man was unconscious. It also meant he had the opportunity to escape.

It was only as he took a stumbling step forward that he realized something. His arm and side were burning ferociously. He glanced curiously at his arm, blinking and trying to clear his eyes when he saw something strange.

"Oh," he finally spoke. "Blood." For some reason, which he couldn't fathom at present, his arm was covered in the substance. He looked at it in wonder, confused and unable to figure out what all of this meant. A few seconds later he looked down at his shirt and frowned. It looked wet, and something was dripping on the floor of the cave with a steady rhythm.

It was only at that moment that he realized he still held on to Mindy, Charlotte's doll. He squinted at her, noticing that something was wrong. He slowly held her to his face – a sharp pain surprising him and making his breath hitch. He suddenly found it hard to breathe and his head began spinning. He lost his balance and fell to his knees, barely noticing the pain – knowing only that Mindy had a slash across her throat – just like Charlotte. It was the last thought he had.


Teresa looked at her watch. It was 2:30 in the morning but the lights in Jane's house were still on. The Malibu police had sent two more cars and the officers were talking to Cho and Rigsby. Grace stood silently by her side.

"What should we do boss?" Grace asked suddenly. "What if he's hurt or –"

"He'll be okay," Lisbon said sharply, refusing to believe anything else. "It'll end up being some stupid mistake and he'll be fine – wondering what we're doing here. I just -" she stopped and bit her lip. She sucked in a deep breath and turned to the group who were still discussing next steps.

"Is there a way to get to the back of Jane's house?" Lisbon asked. "They'll see us coming from the front."

Officer Davis, a long-term native of the area, stepped up. "There's a sharp cliff behind the house, but there used to be a trail down it to the beach. About half a mile that way," he pointed, "there's another trail down. We could go there and circle back on the beach and then up to the back of the house."

"You're not sure if the trail is still there?" Cho wanted to know.

Davis shrugged. "I don't see why it wouldn't be. These houses along here all have beach access. That's why these people live here."

"Okay," Teresa nodded. Now that she had something to do she was all business. "Cho, you and Rigsby head down that way and circle back. Let me know when you're in position by the house."

"Will do Boss," Rigsby told her. Cho just nodded, but almost immediately the two men were off.

"What about us?" Grace wanted to know.

"You and the officers here are going to surround the house."

"And what about you?" Grace frowned. After a pause she began to shake her head. "No way Boss – you can't."

"I have to Grace. Jane may be in there – afraid, hurt. We can't just stay here and do nothing."

"But you're gonna go up there, aren't you? You could get hurt."

"Why would they hurt me?" Teresa asked. "I'll simply pretend to be his girlfriend or something. They're not going to just shoot me."

"You don't think they'll be suspicious about you showing up after 2:00 in the morning?"

"Hey – I was out late partying or something. Okay fine, why don't we do this? Both of us drive up to his house, but you'll stay in the car with it running. I'll go to the door and say we're looking for Jane – to take him out partying or something. They're not going to suspect us and I'll be able to get a look inside. It'll be fine Grace."

"I still don't like it."

A few minutes later both of the women got in Lisbon's car, which was parked down the street, and drove into Jane's yard. With a quick "I'll be fine," Teresa got out of the car and headed for the front door.

It took a few seconds before anyone answered the door. As soon as Teresa saw the man standing there – a guy in his early thirties, with tattooed arms, a buzz cut, and the smell of beer, she knew Jane was definitely in trouble.