Note: So, this chapter isn't that great and wasn't uploaded as soon as I had expected it to be; I apologize.

I had intended to write this long before now, but since the last chapter upload, a few things happened:

-my brother was hospitalized (kidney stones, it turned out. he's much better now)

-my cat got sick (being a cat's "nurse" is not easy but he's also better now)

-I got sick (still not feeling great)

-I quit my job and started a new one

I've been very distracted but I finally got back to this story!

Hopefully the next chapter will be up within a week, but don't hold me to that.

Chapter 6- A Difficult Game to Play

The list that the super had given him had been, unfortunately, useless.

Frank had taken the multiple pages back to his desk at 1PP. Though he was currently not functioning in any police commissioner capacity, he had chosen his work-space over his desk at his home.

There were too many Reagans under that roof right now. Ever since Frank had discovered that Victor Jorrien had returned and had far too much knowledge of his family for Frank's comfort, he had endeavored to convince his daughter and Linda to take one of the many more secure options available to them through the NYPD.

Eventually, Linda had agreed to sleep over with her boys at Frank and Henry's until Jorrien was no longer a threat. Erin had agreed to have security tightened at her apartment for her and Nikki's safety.

It wasn't exactly what Frank had wanted but he was able to realize that this concern, though important, should not and could not be the primary one.

He knew there was always the possibility that Jorrien could go after more of his family but Frank didn't believe very strongly in that possibility.

Jorrien would most likely remain content to play his current game so long as he was convinced that Frank was on the path to lose.

Which he was, Frank thought bitterly to himself.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, in the multiple pages that the super had been able to provide to give Frank any indication as to where or what the next clue might be.

Danny's phone call the day before had given Frank the first glimmer of hope he had had since this nightmare began.

The witness Danny had interviewed, now under police protection, had provided them with a bullet from which forensics had been able to pull a fingerprint.

They had run the print through the system, which had provided them with the name Gary Feranvos.

He had been arrested in the state of Vermont for burglary three years ago.

"This guy murders nine people, moves to Vermont, gets married, has a kid, and then gets arrested for tryin' to steal a television from somebody's house," Danny had summarized after going over the file on Jorrien's true identity. "He gets out of jail then poof! No trace of him at all."

"Check for properties owned by him or his wife. Dig up whatever you can and try to find out what happened to her. She might know something,"

"Or be in on it," Danny suggested.

"See what you can find, then get back to me," Frank said.

"Right, boss."

"And Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Good work."

So far, though, none of the information Danny had been able to find had helped Frank in his search for the next clue. He had walked nearly every square inch accessible to him in the apartment building Jorrien had led him to.

Frank allowed himself a brief moment to imagine the satisfaction he would feel once he tracked down Jorrien, Feranvos, whatever his name was.

As an officer of the law and as the New York City Police Commissioner, he knew that unless Jorrien presented an immediate threat when they confronted one another, Frank would not be able to bring himself to kill him.

Shoot him, maybe, but not kill him.

Frank did have a strong wish, however, that once he stood face to face with Jorrien that he would have probable cause to rid the world of the psychopath once and for all.

He tried to not think about Jamie.

It made him feel like the most horrible father in the world to admit to himself that he was avoiding the thought of his son but every time he did think of his youngest, he couldn't stop himself from thinking of how Jamie had looked in the picture and what he might be going through at that moment.

Every time he thought of Jamie, he found it hard to breathe and harder to concentrate because the worry, the panic at not knowing where his son was or if he was even still alive, would overwhelm him.

Frank, first and foremost the father to his children, longed for the chance to speak to his son, to assure him that he would not stop until Jamie was safe again. The more he thought about what he would say to his son, however, the more distracted he became.

He tried to focus on working the case instead.

You will be allowed three hints throughout the game.

More and more, the words left by Jorrien were repeating themselves in Frank's mind. It seemed that he had little choice but to use one of the hints offered.

Before he did, however, he wanted to be sure it was absolutely necessary, given that Jorrien would undoubtedly try to make things as difficult for Frank as possible.

"What've you found?" Frank asked his son after calling him.

"Not much," Danny admitted, "The wife died several years ago and the daughter's a bit of a challenge to track down."

"What do you mean?"

"She's moved around constantly since she turned eighteen. Never stayed in the same place for more than a few months. She was in NYC not too long ago but we're not sure where she went. She's got a bunch of aliases and it's not clear yet which one she's going by currently and there's been nothing on her credit card or cell phone for a couple of months. I'm on my way to check out her last known address."

"Let me know what you find out," Frank instructed.

"Will do."

Frank ended the call but kept the phone in his hand, staring down at it.

Jorrien had not told him what to do in order to receive a hint, which Frank was forced to admit he needed.

He kept staring at the phone for several minutes, willing it silently to ring or to receive a text message from Jorrien telling him something, anything that would bring him closer to finding his son.

The phone remained silent.

Frank sat in the oppressive silence of his office, mulling over what to do next.

Phone still in hand, he thumbed through the contacts until he came to a familiar name.

Though he knew no one would answer, he called anyway.

"This is Jamie," his son's voice greeted him, "leave a message." The phone beeped.

Frank didn't say anything. He ended the call and considered dialing again, just to hear Jamie's voice once more.

He decided against it. The next time he heard Jamie speak, it would be when Frank was bringing his son home.

Frank picked up the papers on his desk. He wouldn't just wait around until Jorrien decided to call again.

If there was anything he had missed about the apartment building, anything that he had overlooked, Frank was prepared to spend countless hours to find it.

Jamie was going to come home.