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A little more of the investigation and glimpse at poor Jamie. More will happen in the next chapter, promise. Enjoy
Chapter 4- Three Reagans
"I want you to go back to your precinct," Frank instructed Danny as they left the warehouse. "Review the files from my original case. A fresh set of eyes might give us something to go on."
"What are you gonna do?" Danny asked his father as they walked back to the vehicles.
"Keep playing Jorrien's game," he stopped to look at his oldest, "I think our best bet is to work this from two different angles. You try to find anything you can on the man himself. Where he's been living, any living relatives, you know the drill. I'll try to figure out what his end game is."
"You're not goin' alone?" Danny quietly inquired, concern lacing his voice. His father averted his gaze, a troubled look on his face. He continued walking to the vehicles and Danny followed.
"Dad-"
"I'll have my detail accompany me," he said, "although I can't be sure that that won't have repercussions."
"You're afraid Jorrien won't like it," Danny deduced, "but they came along on this one. And I'm here, too."
"And I already feel like I'm pushing my luck," Frank commented, "And Jamie's. If Jorrien decides that having someone with me is cheating-"
"Then he might take it out on Jamie," Danny nodded in solemn understanding.
Frank nodded, his eyes downcast.
"Alright," Danny breathed out the word as they finally reached their respective vehicles. "I'll go see what I can dig up. Call me if you need me. Be careful,"
He waved good-bye to his father and took off, his nerves showing in his hurried pace and harried demeanor.
"You too," Frank returned the sentiment as his son drove off, well out of ear-shot.
The second address was not one Frank recognized.
It was an apartment complex, one that Frank had never before ventured into.
He walked calmly through the front doors and looked around.
As far as he could tell, nothing out of the ordinary was present. Nothing that would provide him with a clue about Jamie's whereabouts.
The mailboxes of the tenants were all on the first floor and Frank wandered over to them, wondering if the clue was hidden in one of them.
He scanned the metal faces of the boxes but once again, saw nothing out of place. He turned around, facing the elevator on the other side of the room.
Frank walked toward it and observed the panel of buttons. There were four floors to the building, not including the basement.
How was he supposed to know which floor to search? Would the clue be waiting in a hallway? On the roof? Inside one of the apartments?
Frank's mind drifted to the second instruction on Jarrien's note.
2) You will be allowed three hints throughout the game.
He wasn't about to just ask for one yet, though. There was no telling just how long Jorrien intended this 'treasure hunt' to last and Frank wasn't ready to admit he was out of options just yet.
He pushed the down button for the elevator. The super of the building, he had noticed on a sign on the wall, was located in the basement.
Maybe he could track down the clue with some more information.
Meanwhile, Danny had retrieved the files from his father's original investigation of Victor Jorrien.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much to the files except pictures and notes of the crime scenes, victims and their families, and some pictures of Jorrien himself.
The psychopath had apparently taunted the police during his six-month killing spree. His killings were erratic, sometimes spanning two months, sometimes spanning two days.
Jorrien had also apparently sent messages to the police regarding three of his nine victims. For each of them, a hand-written note was sent in an envelope with no return address.
Each of the three notes read: This one was fun! -Victor Jorrien
Those three victims; Bernard Atley, Rida Daher, and Paulina Green had all been missing for over two weeks before their bodies were found. Paulina Green had been missing for a month and a half.
There was nothing connecting the victims. Not gender, race, socioeconomic status, nothing in their histories tying them to one, singular clue as to why they were targeted.
Danny suppressed a groan and rubbed his hands over his face.
What he wouldn't give to be out on the streets, demanding some answers.
The problem was, he didn't have any idea which doors he should be knocking down yet.
It was as though Victor Jorrien didn't exist. No evidence at any of the crime scenes had any traces of the killer's DNA or fingerprints. All the leads Frank and his partner at the time had tried to follow had eventually led them to dead-ends.
What was there left? What more could Danny do that his father hadn't?
As Danny continued to flip through the files, he finally felt a surge of hope. There had been a witness to the ninth murder.
Danny jumped up from his desk, pulling his jacket off of the back of his chair. He already had his phone out, calling in a favor.
"Hey, can you find an address for me?"
The past… however many days had passed had been a slow decline for Jamie. Ever since he had woken up in some empty room, he had expected nothing less.
Jamie had hoped, however, that his father and brother would have found him by now.
He was left alone, for now, in what seemed to be a more-or-less permanent residence. Permanent, at least, until he figured out some way to get out.
The man who had come to the room soon after Jamie first awoke had introduced himself as Victor. Jamie found he didn't particularly care for the pleasantries.
Nor, as time would relate, did Victor. Any idea of pleasant-ness was erased the moment Victor described his plan for Jamie and his father. This was followed by what Victor called 'tests.' Tests that included restraints, knives, a baseball bat, and good old-fashioned fists.
Thankfully, Victor didn't remain amused with his 'tests' for long.
He would leave Jamie on his own for long periods of time, occasionally bringing in some food and water which Jamie was wary of consuming. As it turned out, he had reason to be concerned.
There was some form of drug, a sedative if Jamie had to guess, in the items he was given. Victor had had to force the first bottle of water down Jamie's throat before Jamie realized no drugs was not an option.
The sedatives were mild and usually did nothing more than make him drowsy and disoriented. The one time they had knocked him out, he had woken up in a different, more open space.
That time, Victor was kneeling in front of him with a phone in his hand.
"I'm going to call your daddy," Victor had told him in a high-pitched, mocking voice. "And you will not say a word until I hold the phone out to you. If you do, then I will have to put a bullet in big brother's brain. Alrighty? Or, if you would prefer, your sister's. I'll let you pick. Sound like fun?"
"Stay away from my family," Jamie had spat at the man. Victor burst out laughing. He stood up, wiping at his eyes.
"Oh baby Reagan," he had said, "You are a lot of fun!"
Jamie had been relieved to hear his father's voice, to know that Frank and Danny both knew who they were looking for now. He knew that they wouldn't give up until they found him.
As he glanced around his prison, his mind not able to fully focus, Jamie hoped that that would happen sooner rather than later.