Chapter 5

"All right, any leads yet?" Casey pushed open the door to Cragen's office. A single, pale beam of light illuminated the room. Cragen sat at his desk, an empty liqueur glass in front of him. He didn't move when he heard her voice, and she froze in her tracks. "Don?"

He finally spoke. "You know. I sat here all night with an empty glass. There's a bottle of vodka in my drawer. And I know…I know that I could just fill it and drain all of my problems away."

Her footsteps were light as she crossed the room. "But you didn't." It was a statement, but it wasn't without question.

He shook his head softly. "You know, I've worried about her before. She doesn't have any family and sometimes she takes these cases too personally. I've worried that she'll push herself so hard she won't know when to stop."

Casey sat across from him, watching his bravado crumble, and she felt tears well up in her own eyes. Cragen had always been the strength behind the unit. He never faltered, never questioned…until now. She didn't know what to say. It didn't matter. He broke the silence.

"The Bennett case was tough on her. It was tough on Elliot too, but in a different way. Elliot saw a child without a family to take care of him. But Olivia, she saw a mother who couldn't bear to look at what she'd done. She saw a mother so obsessed with her past that she let it consume who she was and how she lived her life."

"I never thought about it that way. It must have been rough on Olivia."

Cragen nodded. "She talked to me about it a few nights ago. She's spent her whole life trying to find something positive in what happened to her mother. She was worried that it would turn her into someone she didn't want to be. She wanted to have hope that there was good out there somewhere, but the job…it gets to you. It makes it hard to trust. It makes it hard to let your guard down. She told me that for once in her life, she wanted to experience what it was like to not feel that."

"Don, that doesn't mean that this is your…" The words trailed off as they heard a rap at the door.

It swung open silently, and Elliot stood in the doorway. "We've got a possible lead from a credit card receipt at Maloney's. Ray remembers Olivia leaving with somebody. We're trying to track him down now. And Munch has something on the other vic."

The change in Cragen's demeanor was instantaneous. He straightened up in his seat. "All right, I'll be right there. Casey…"

She nodded. "No, go. I just came to tell you that I'm here as soon as you need anything. We're in this together."

Olivia tried to lift her head, but it felt too heavy. Her entire body felt heavy. Through the cloud surrounding her, she could hear noises, and she tried to call out for help, but no sound escaped. She could feel the floor moving beneath her, and for the first time, she realized that they were no longer in the basement. Vaguely she wondered how long she had lost consciousness…how long she had been trapped in this nightmare? She wondered when he would tire of this game, or when her body would give out. Despite the grogginess, she knew from the way her shirt clung to her body that it was damp with blood. Everything else was dark. Had be blindfolded her with something? She strained to remember, and for the first time in her life, she prayed…prayed that the darkness enveloping her was his doing and not something more.

She started to mentally calculate their movements…a right turn, then two more stops before she felt them veer in the other direction. With every passing moment, she could feel the will to fight draining from her body. She closed her eyes as she realized that it wouldn't help. She didn't know how long she had been out of it, and she had no point to start from. She didn't think it was possible to cry any more, but tears of frustration burned at her eyes. How did this happen? She'd been in impossible situations before--she had stared down the barrel of a gun more times than she could count, but there was always hope. There was always a chance to escape…always Elliot right there watching her back. But there was no one here with her now. She didn't know how long it had been--didn't even know if anyone had noticed she'd never made it home.

Olivia didn't have time to dwell on her thoughts. She felt her body lurch as they came to a sudden halt. She pressed herself into the floor as she heard footsteps approaching. She was so weak. She knew better than to try to fight so she did the only thing she could think of…she let her body go limp as calloused hands reached for her and lifted her out of the van.

"Leslie Carlton didn't just disappear." Munch paused ceremoniously as he stared at the look of anticipation on his colleague's faces. "She's been missing for five days."

Fin mentally calculated dates in his head. "So she was kidnapped on Wednesday?"

"Wednesday night to be specific. She was last seen leaving a dress shop by the name of Estello's," Munch added looking up from his notes.

Fin swiveled around in his chair. "Warner doesn't put time of death till Saturday night. That means the perp didn't kill her until day three."

Elliot looked up from the phone cradled on his shoulder. His face was grim. "Liv's on day three now."

"All right, people. Let's not assume the worst. Now, did we get anything from the canvas?" Cragen interceded quickly, sensing the rising distress fueled by the lack of sleep on everyone's part.

"Nothing. No one saw anything…no one heard anything." Fin shook his head, his frustration evident.

"Or if they did…they're certainly not talking to us," Elliot added.

"Munch, what else do we know about the first victim?"

"She was a single woman in her late thirties. Everyone I talked to describes her as successful, but loved by many." Munch paused. "So many in fact that no one bothered to report her missing when she didn't show up for work four days ago," he added wryly. The piercing glare in Elliot's eyes silenced him.

"All right, we can fight later," Cragen interrupted. "Right now, the clock's ticking, and Olivia's still out there. We've been at this for over twenty-four hours, and so far we've got next to nothing. Now, what do we know about this mystery date?"

Fin stepped in smoothly. "Not much. Ray doesn't know the guy. But he did pay by credit card. Card says he's Roger Hammond. We checked on the name, it looks like a fake. Elliot's on the phone with the credit card company now."

"No, that's impossible…check on that again!" Everyone turned at the sound of Elliot's voice, rising hysterically on the phone. He slammed down the receiver, all of the color draining from his face. There was complete silence in the squad room as everyone waited for him to speak.

Finally Cragen interceded. "Elliot?" he prompted.

Elliot caught his breath before he finally spoke. "The address on the credit card is my apartment."

Cragen was the first to shatter the stunned silence. "Elliot? When's the last time you were home?"

He responded slowly. "Saturday night, I was asleep when Fin called. I threw some clothes on and went straight to the scene. There's no way I'd go home with Olivia missing."

"This guy's been playing games with us the whole time," Fin interjected.

"And he was counting on the fact that none of us would take a break as long as Olivia was gone." Munch spoke the words on everyone's mind.

Without a word, they were on their feet and already on their way out the door. Cragen slid into the squad car beside Elliot and slammed the door shut behind him as Elliot yanked the steering wheel away from the curb. The closer they got, the harder his heart seemed to pound in his chest. Elliot slammed his foot on the accelerator, deadening the seemingly placid morning air. From far off in the distance, the sun was just beginning to break through the clouds. It rose stealthily from the shadows, casting its rays in hues of brilliant colors. They were still a block away when Elliot first saw the spark of light reflecting somewhere in front of him. When he realized what he was looking at, Elliot slammed his foot on the brake, and the tires spun out of control before settling to a screeching halt.

He could not remember getting out of the car, but suddenly he felt cement under his feet. For a moment that seemed to be suspended in time, Elliot felt as if he were a child peering through a window, watching animatedly at the world through an unyielding pane of glass. A towering wall of fire stood in front of him, enveloping the second floor of his building. With a sudden clarity that caused him to fall staggering to the ground, Elliot realized that the base of the fire was tediously working its way along the outside wall of his apartment.

Olivia's breathing was shallow, and her lungs strained for oxygen. She forced back a shudder of revulsion as she felt his hands roaming up and down her body. They came to rest on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut as he pulled the fabric away from her eyes. She felt him release his hold on her, and Olivia waited until the footsteps faded away before she dared open her eyes again. She tried to focus, but everything was still so hazy. She had to be dreaming. Her eyes darted back and forth as she surveyed the familiar surroundings. She tried to pull herself up to a sitting position, but the accompanying stab of pain jolted her back to reality.

Olivia was still for a moment, listening intently. As the incessant crackling began to register, she let her eyes slowly trace the outline of the room. She stared into the depths of the fire in front of her. The flame flickered and greedily reached out toward her. Her knees instinctively curled up to her chest as if to protect herself, and a single tendril of dark hair fell forward into her face. Her eyes remained fixed on the ghastly sight as the flames consumed everything around her. She was numb to the core, unable to think clearly. Black clouds of smoke enveloped her, wrapping their long, slender fingers around her pale throat as if choking any life away from her. Her eyes widened with fear as she realized that the raspy, choking sounds heard above the crackling flame were coming from her own throat. At last, Olivia could take it no more. She squeezed her eyes shut and collapsed, a victim to the awaiting flames.

As she fell, Elliot struggled to his feet, pushing past the arms that tried to hold him back and ran into the building. He took the stairs two at a time. Once on the second floor, he stood in the stairwell, his eyes searching for some sign of life in the eerie darkness. Pushing his way through to his apartment, he swung the door open and caught a glimpse of a pale form in a heap on the ground. Frantically, Elliot reached out for her and felt for a pulse. It was faint, but it was still there.

In between flickers of light, he could see her arms dangling lifelessly over her head and realized that she had been handcuffed to the radiator. He slipped his jacket off and instinctively reached for his belt. His fingers closed around a cool, hard piece of metal, and as if by memory, he inserted the key in the lock. As soon as he released them, her arms dropped to her side like a rag doll. Elliot wrapped her slender figure in his jacket. He clutched her limp body close to his throbbing chest and ran, away from the smoldering smoke and dancing flames to the mist he hadn't even realized had begun to fall. It wasn't until he reached the safety of the squad cars that he allowed himself to stumble into the darkness which surrounded him.