Standard disclaimer still applies.

I'm a pint low (blood bank called, begging for my type) and it's hotter than blazes, both of which have left me woozy. Hopefully I caught everything that needed catching in this section! If not, I blame the phlebotomist.

Thanks for reading!

The truth was, the scarcity of information Larry and Dad had been able to give him made Don very nervous. There wasn't anything of real substance to go on, and every hour that Charlie was unaccounted for was another hour that a favorable outcome became more unlikely. He suspected both of them knew that, but not the same way he did. Don could vow to let not that be how his brother's case ended up, yet it might happen anyway. He had to steel himself for that now and detach. Move on with as little emotion as possible. He wasn't really sure he could do that.

"We'll need to stay on top of the DelMarco case," Don said. Everyone stared at him. He wondered if his expression had looked like that at any point when he was at Dad's house. God, he hoped not, because his team appeared vaguely ill and slightly shell-shocked. They were good, which meant how they really felt was so much worse than they were letting on. "And, technically, it should be me who stays on it, but I can't."

"You might be too close to this, Don."

Might be? She also had that understanding look in her eyes, the one that said she knew he wasn't going to back off of the search for Charlie no matter what she said. Megan was correct, of course. Logically, he should hand it to another agent. But he couldn't let that happen, both for himself and for his father. Don looked at her for a second, then down at his desk. The picture of Charlie he'd retrieved from Dad stared back up at him, the silly smile serving as a motivator. And, conversely, sickening doubt. It was amazing how much he wanted to see his pain in the ass little brother smiling for real, standing right next to him.

"Might be? Yeah, I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "But I'll be okay."

"I'll stick with DelMarco," Colby said. Don relaxed a little, glad for the volunteer. "You're right, someone has to."

"Thanks, man." Don thought all of them, Colby included, would prefer to help him, for which he was very grateful. He didn't really want to give up the DelMarco thing either, not after investing so much time on it. "I appreciate it. We'll keep you in the loop."

"Won't be long and I'll join you, watch."

Colby wandered back to his desk, leaving Megan and David by his side. If he wasn't crazy, he'd bet Colby wasn't really that focused on DelMarco. The kid kept looking back toward them. Don stood up, heading for the coffee pot. He'd consumed two and a half pots all by himself over the last several hours. His sleepless night had been spent fruitlessly staring at a damned haircut receipt and that self-portrait of Charlie's.

"So," David said as Don returned to the desk, "There aren't any solid leads, but there have to be connections somewhere. I'll go to the hair place, ask around. One of the employees could have seen something, or a neighboring retailer."

"Good." Don didn't think caffeine worked on him anymore. He swallowed a burning gulp, wincing as it went down. "Megan and I will canvass the campus. Check with Larry and Amita again."

"Do you think this is a random act?"

"Maybe. I can't think of anyone who'd dislike Charlie enough to grab him."

"How much do you know about the people Charlie sees every day? And just think about what Charlie does for us in the hands of someone with less noble intentions," Megan said. "We've seen how smart some criminals are. Smart enough to figure out someone like Charlie could do them a lot of good."

Don had considered all of that before, and he didn't know anyone (besides himself) that didn't like Charlie all the time. He also couldn't make the whole criminal angle work in his head. Maybe that was because he didn't want to think about his kid brother being an instrument used to commit crimes, even on a remote, tangential level. Or maybe because he didn't think even the smartest of felons would have the first clue where to find Charlie or someone like him.

"I don't know, maybe," David said. "But we wouldn't have started counting on his expertise if he hadn't mentioned a mathematical solution to a scenario himself, so I'm not sure anyone would make that connection."

That was true. Don hated it about himself, but he had never once considered Charlie might have something useful to contribute to the Bureau, or if he had he'd suppressed it because this was his arena. And now he'd been pulling away from Charlie's rather helpful contributions because of high school level annoyance. He couldn't remember the last thing he'd said to Charlie. It probably wasn't anything meaningful.

"Really?" Megan said.

"Yeah, and, man, I thought it was nuts. Here was this floppy-haired kid breezing in to solve the case with math? Right." David chuckled. The good humor faded from his expression quickly. "I'm going to get going. I'll call you guys when I find something."

David made his way to the elevator. Megan gathered her things while Don drank the remaining contents of his coffee mug. He tried not to think about that floppy-haired guy David had described as his brother. He thought Larry's assessment regarding an on-campus incident was probably accurate – Charlie wasn't one for drama, and if anything dramatic had happened, it would have been all over campus. David might also be right, though, and there might be other connections. He hoped Larry had done what he'd asked and compiled a list of anyone who Charlie had given a bad grade to or something. He hoped and didn't hope that there was actually a list to review.

"Let's go talk to the dean."

The ride over to campus was quiet, which to him was just one of two evils. He didn't feel like talking, but when he didn't talk his brain wouldn't let him stay detached. Of course, any given off-hand remark about Charlie also wouldn't let him remain the cool, professional FBI agent, either. He thought about Dad, at home alone with his thoughts and rampant imagination. As much as his job sucked right now, at least he could pretend to have some distance and distraction.

"Have you already spoken with her?" Megan asked as they got out of the car.

"No, she wasn't in yet, but I'm sure she'll see us."

Don could have made an appointment, and he was sure the dean was very busy, but he expected full cooperation. This was just a formality, a stop off to gain access to Charlie's office. He'd stopped by last night to see if it was open or to see if maybe Charlie was actually here. Disappointment on both fronts. He and Megan walked quickly, and flashed their badges as soon as they entered the dean's office. The dean's assistant stared at them, eyes wide and eyebrows crinkled slightly.

"Mr…" Megan said, glancing at the name placard on the desk. The slightly stocky man fidgeted nervously. "Rubens, hello. We're with the FBI. We'd like to see Dean Kozelek about an important matter."

"Yeah, I figured as much. The FBI doesn't stop by every day."

Not lately, Don thought. The guy had no idea how often they usually stopped by Charlie's office. They? Not him. He realized that more often than not it was one of his team checking in with Charlie and not him. An agent in charge delegated tasks like that. He was doing it again, thinking too much about how this was his brother and not a regular victim. And how he'd fallen short on his brotherly responsibilities lately.

"She's on the phone right now," Mr. Rubens told them. "I'll just go poke my head in."

"Thank you," Don said.

Mr. Rubens was out of sight less than a minute, back with the same wide-eyed expression as when he'd left. He ushered for them to follow, not speaking. Don thought he looked like the type who loved to gossip and probably had a million questions. He gave Rubens credit for not asking them for details. Word about their visit would spread soon enough. He couldn't decide if it was better to get the word out about Charlie or not. It could lead to more information, which they needed.

Dean Kozelek, looking much younger than he'd imagined, stood as they entered. She seemed as curious and alarmed as her assistant. As she sat down, her long hair fell down and obscured her face a little. When she glanced back up, Don saw nervousness in her eyes.

"I'm Agent Eppes." Don indicated Megan. "And this is Agent Reeves."

"Please, have a seat," she said. "Eppes? Any relation to Professor Eppes?"

"He's my brother, and, actually, he's why we're here."

"Oh?"

"We have reason to believe something might have happened to him," Megan explained. She sat down, but didn't relax. Don remained on his feet. "We'd like access to his office and will probably need to speak with his colleagues and students."

"Something happened?"

"Ma'am, he hasn't been seen or heard from in over thirty-six hours," Don said. His voice sounded tight. "We need to gather information and rule out anyone here as being responsible."

"No, that can't be right," Kozelek said. "Professor Eppes called me the other night and explained he needed some emergency time off. Something about his father."

"What, you've heard from him?" Don suddenly felt the need to sit down. He exchanged a look with Megan as he shakily did so. "When, exactly, and what did he say?"

"Not last night, but the night before. It was just as I was leaving the office, around six o'clock. He sounded rather out of it, actually, now that I think about it." Kozelek frowned and chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "He said he didn't know how much time he'd need off."

"Is it routine for professors to call the dean rather than their department heads?" Megan said.

"Nooo," Kozelek said weakly. Nervousness made way for embarrassment and then concern. "It's not. I was in a rush to get home that evening, and the thought simply didn't occur to me. I contacted Doctor Beam about it yesterday morning."

Don shifted on the chair. The news was unexpected, and not good as far as he was concerned. This phone call had come hours after Larry dropped Charlie off at home and was now the last known contact. It told him Charlie's disappearance was not random. It also told him that whomever was responsible wasn't that smart – the only bit of good news about it.

"How out of it did Cha…Professor Eppes sound?" he said. The call had to have been coerced somehow, he thought. No way would Charlie call work with a made up excuse and not call home at all. "Was his speech slurred?"

"No…maybe. I assumed he was upset about the family emergency," Kozelek said. "But now I'm not so sure. He sounded distracted, his voice a little stilted and almost drunk."

He couldn't remember the last time Charlie had gotten drunk. It just wasn't in his geek MO.

"Ms. Kozelek, we're going to ask that this situation be kept as low key as possible until we have more information," Megan said.

"You don't think someone here had something to do with this?"

"We can't rule anything out. We appreciate the information you've given us and will keep you informed as we proceed," Don said. "What we really need is to take a look at Charlie's office now."

"Of course. I won't tell anyone we had this conversation. As far as anyone outside this office knows, Professor Eppes is dealing with an emergency."

Don stood up. Megan said something else to the dean, but he didn't pay attention. He was too busy thinking about what kind of kidnapper would let his prey call his employer but not know he called the wrong employer? One who wanted Charlie's absence to go unnoticed but who didn't know the proper structure of an academic organization. And, he feared, one who had used artificial means to get what he wanted out of Charlie.

TBC...