The apartment was three rooms over a garage located behind a condemned house. Sharon Raydor greeted the patrolmen waiting for them at the curb. The rain was still coming down in sheets, severely limiting their view of the surroundings. Despite the rain slickers, all were soaked before reaching the rickety staircase leading to the kidnapping suspect's rental.

The open door gave all of them pause.

"Was this open when you got here, Officer Andrews?" Sharon directed her question to the patrolman closest to her, a huge man whose bulk wouldn't have been out of place on a linebacker for a professional football team. His partner wasn't much smaller. She had a stray thought about how they managed to find uniforms that fit.

"Yes, it was open, ma'am. My partner and I didn't touch anything. Just cleared the apartment and the garage space underneath. The doors were open on both."

"Thank you. Please set up a perimeter. We need a couple more units." She glanced at the rain, knowing that with the weather she'd given him an almost impossible task. Yellow tape would be a waste of time and extra help would be a long time coming, if at all. "Do the best you can."

Dismissing the patrolmen, Sharon motioned to Flynn and Provenza to follow her into the residence. They all pulled on gloves.

"The suspect," she glanced down at her small black notebook, "Harley Peterson...Mr. Peterson was the last person seen with Emily Carson. Emily is 3 years old, 38 inches tall, 30 pounds, brown hair, and blue eyes. Clothing unidentified. Mr. Petersen was an acquaintance of Emily's father, now deceased. Mr. Petersen reportedly took Emily from her babysitter at 10:20 this morning."

"What did you get from the interview?" Provenza lifted up a corner of the box spring mattress on the double bed pushed against one wall. He dropped it with a bang, after checking that the space under the bed was empty.

"Nothing. He invoked. Judge gave us a warrant based on the babysitter's statement." Sharon walked into the small kitchen, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. As a concession to the weather, she'd traded her skirt for slacks. She wished now, she'd had boots in her locker at work.

"Bathroom is clear," Flynn yelled from the other room. "Clear but not clean. Smells like something died in here."

Sharon opened the refrigerator door and found a half-empty bottle of apple juice. "Peterson brought Emily here. I'm sure of it. Check any space a three-year-old could fit."

"Closet is clear. Bunch of clothes piled on the floor, could have been used as baby bed, or maybe the guy is just a slob." Provenza used a baseball bat he'd found to poke at the mound of clothes.

All three met back in the small living area.

"You said something about a smell?" Sharon turned to Flynn. "Show me."

"You really don't want..." Flynn was talking to her back, so he stopped. He trailed her into the bathroom.

She lifted the top off a small plastic bucket next to the toilet. The foul odor flooded the room. "Diapers. Used diapers. Emily was here."

"God, what was he feeding her?" Flynn coughed and backed away. "So where is she now?"

Sharon shook her head. "No indications that he had a partner in this kidnapping. We need to search outside. Right now. If he left her alone here, she might have wandered off."

Provenza glanced towards the open door and the rain. "Oh, hell."

"I've got flashlights in the trunk of my vehicle. Let's get them." Sharon used her remote on her keychain to unlock her car. "There's also one in the glove box."

Provenza opened the side door and was knocked backwards on to the muddy ground by the two dogs who'd been left in the backseat. "Damnation! Flynn, this is your fault. We should have shot them the first time we saw them."

"Lieutenants! We need to hurry." Sharon handed Flynn a flashlight after he helped Provenza to his feet. She motioned to the patrolmen to join them. "Officer Andrews, any luck getting more help out here?"

"No ma'am. Central said it would be at least a half hour. Roads are flooded. Helicopters are grounded. Pile up on the 405. It's a mess."

Provenza spared the dogs a glance. They had taken care of business and were now standing inside the garage area out of the rain.

Sharon pointed towards the brushy area behind the garage and towards the foreclosed house in front. Check out the house, then let's do a grid search. We need to find this child, gentlemen. And we need to do it quickly."

"Captain Raydor?" The younger patrolman stepped up. "Officer Hernandez and her partner use our squad car during the day shift. I noticed she left a pair of running shoes in the trunk. Would you like to borrow them?"

Sharon smiled, checking the name on the officer's slicker.. "Yes, Officer Willis. I would. Thank you."

Provenza coughed, muffling a comment that sounded a lot like, "Suck up."

Sharon gave him a look that would have felled a lesser man. "Lieutenant Provenza, stay here and guard the crime scene. And you're in charge of making sure your dogs don't destroy any evidence. Lieutenant Flynn, come with me."

"Wait, they're not my dogs, Captain!" Provenza sputtered after her. "Flynn! Tell her."