Juliet settled on the exam table after her sonogram and waited for the doctor. "Where's Shawn?" were the first words out of the doctor's mouth.
Juliet sighed. "I don't know, actually."
"He left you? I thought he looked the type, but he seemed so emotional he almost had me."
"He didn't leave," Juliet whispered. "He wouldn't miss this. He wouldn't."
A bleep on the monitor caught the doctor's attention. "Juliet, are you feeling all right?"
"He'd be here. Even if he was up all night working, he promised me he wouldn't miss any of these."
"Juliet, you need to calm down and relax," the doctor ordered, gently pressing on Juliet's shoulder.
"Oh, God," she whispered. "What's happened to him?"
"I'm sure he's fine, Juliet. He probably just slept through his alarm if he was up all night." She changed the subject. "Would you like to know the sex?"
"No . . . yes . . . no . . . we never really talked about it."
"Well, it's your call, Mom."
Juliet bit her lip. 'Patience' wasn't a word in Shawn's vocabulary. He'd want to know. She nodded briefly.
"It's a little girl," the doctor whispered, handing Juliet a printed sonogram. "She looks beautiful, Juliet. Just try to keep calm—your blood pressure's running a little high."
When the doctor left to let Juliet change, she reached for her phone. 'I'm starting to get worried, Shawn. Where are you? Are you all right? It's a girl.'
...
Shawn felt like his lungs were going to burst. He was starting to get dizzy and knew he had to stop running or he'd fall. He eyed the trees above him, wondering if he could climb one fast enough to be out of sight before Prescott caught up to him.
"You're going to have to do better than that, Shawn!" he heard echoed across the forest.
Shawn turned in every direction, searching for the best route. He saw smoke from a chimney in one direction, but, knowing Prescott had precisely chosen the spot where they'd begun the chase and keenly remembering the result of finding civilization the last time he'd been in a similar situation, he ran towards a creek. He hopped the creek only to lose his balance and land with a large thorn sticking through his right palm. He cursed loudly and regained his feet, running upstream. He soon heard road noises and headed toward them, hoping he'd be able to at least see a town of some sort in either direction. Two steps from the asphalt, he felt the ground give way under his feet. He tried to throw his weight to avoid falling through the hole, but only managed to land hard on his left side in some sort of underground tunnel.
After rolling in pain for a few seconds, he considered his surroundings to be almost lucky—out of sight, at least for a little while, he could rest and hopefully find some water.
"Took you long enough."
Shawn jumped. Prescott stood above him, pistol again aimed at his head. "But . . . what . . . how did you . . ."
"This was the destination all along, Shawn. I'd hoped you'd find it sooner, when you were stronger. But now I guess I'll have to give you a bit of a rest before the next round."
"Thanks, I appreciate that," Shawn sneered.
...
Juliet entered the station and went straight to her desk, hoping Shawn would be there or at the very least would have left a message that maybe he'd lost his phone or something. Disappointed, she pulled out the sonogram and stared at it, all her hopes and dreams for the future playing through her head: Shawn, painting the nursery; Shawn, holding their little girl for the first time; Shawn, walking their daughter down the aisle; Shawn, walking her down the aisle.
She snapped out of her reverie in time to notice Henry staring over her shoulder at the picture.
"Lovely," he choked out, dabbing inconspicuously at his eyes.
"It's a girl," she murmured.
"A granddaughter," Henry mused. "Have you two talked about names?"
Juliet shook her head. "We haven't talked about a lot of things."
"Hey," he hooked her chin with his finger, "is something wrong, Juliet?"
Her lip quivered. "I haven't heard from him since yesterday."
"He didn't come home last night?"
"No, but he told me he wouldn't be—texted me, at least."
"Well have you tried Gus? If you don't know where he is, I'm sure Gus does."
"They're working a case . . . I didn't want to bother them."
"I'd at least try; put your mind at ease."
"Thanks, Henry."
He smiled and squeezed her hand. She flipped her phone open and closed a few times before finally giving in and dialing Gus's cell phone number.
"Hello, Juliet," Gus greeted.
"Gus, is Shawn around?"
"Haven't seen him today. When you do, will you tell him we have work to do?"
"He told me you two were working a case last night."
"We weren't . . . we don't have a case. Shawn wrapped it up yesterday afternoon. I thought he was going home to you, but when I came in this morning I found a note that said he wouldn't be in today . . . something about fishing with his dad."
Juliet's stomach flip flopped. "He's not fishing with his dad, Gus."
"That's what the note said."
"Henry's here. I'm looking right at him. And unless he intentionally misled me earlier, he hasn't seen Shawn either."
"Juliet, is Shawn in trouble?" Gus asked nervously.
"I'm starting to worry," she whispered.
"I'll be down there in ten minutes."
Juliet took a deep breath. Finally, her feet caught up with her eyes and she trod toward Henry's desk. "Were you and Shawn supposed to go fishing today?"
"Fishing? Shawn hates fishing. What are you talking about, Juliet?"
"Oh, God," she breathed, folding her arms across herself and trying to calm her breathing as adrenaline coursed through her and she began the early symptoms of a panic attack.
"Juliet, what's going on?" Henry asked immediately standing and bracing her, holding both arms supportively.
"Shawn's missing," she whispered. "He missed our OB appointment this morning and told me he was with Gus and told Gus he was with you."
"Why would he lie?"
"He didn't. I got a text and Gus got a note."
"Somebody has him?"
"Henry, I'm scared," she whispered, grasping his coat lapel.
...
Shawn awoke to ice cold water being poured over his head. He gasped and shivered.
"Before we commence, it's time to let the world know why you're not home." Prescott dialed Juliet's cell phone number on Shawn's phone. "Say hello to your wife and daughter."
"D-daughter?"
"Oh, didn't you get Jules' text?" Prescott taunted. "It's a girl! Mazel tov. Too bad you'll never meet her."
Shawn gritted his teeth.
"Shawn?" he could hear her panicked voice on the other end of the phone.
"Say hello," Prescott hissed.
"Jules," Shawn groaned.
"Shawn, are you all right?"
He lifted seething eyes to Prescott. "For now."
"Where are you?"
"I'm a little tied up at the moment."
"Shawn, who has you?"
Prescott lifted an eyebrow and gestured toward Shawn, indicating he could tell.
"Prescott," Shawn spat.
"Do you know where you are?"
"That's enough," Prescott stated, yanking the phone away from Shawn. "I'm going to give you long enough to trace the location of this call and then this phone goes off. That's all you're getting, Detective. Find him before this time tomorrow or you'll be finding his body." Prescott hung up and threw the phone to the ground.
"That should give her something to start with. Feel like you're ready to start the next round?"
"As if I had a choice."
"That's right. Here's the situation: four paths in this tunnel. One leads to an abandoned mine shaft—you'll fall to your death or drown in the bottom before you know where you are. The second one leads to an unstable part of this area—you'll trigger a cave-in and die after an uncomfortable amount of time spent buried alive. The second two are exits. One leads to a town, the other will lead straight to me. You have ten minutes before I trigger the explosives I've lined these walls with, which means you have one chance and one chance only—two, maybe, if you run fast enough." He sliced Shawn's ropes. "Now run."
...
Juliet sat in the corner of the chief's office as Karen handed out assignments and yelled out orders. Henry, Gus, and Lassiter, though all paying attention to their respective parts, eyed her concernedly. Chief Vick's phone rang and she sent everyone out. Henry's hand rested on Juliet's back comfortingly.
She nervously nibbled on her thumbnail. "He's going to kill him," she murmured, "and it's all my fault."
Her shoulders hunched forward and tears threatened to force their way out.
"We'll find this bastard and take care of him once and for all," Carlton stated definitively. "Now, are you good to go, O'Hara, or do you need to stay here?"
"I'm going."
"We're all going," Gus contributed.
"Then let's do this."
...
Shawn took a moment to survey his surroundings before he chose a path. Two went uphill, two went downhill. Figuring the uphill ones were more likely to lead somewhere desirable, he quickly chose and began to run. Not thirty seconds down the tunnel, he tripped on a boulder and rolled down a flight of stairs, crying out in pain as he did so. He rolled on the ground for a bit before attempting to stand. His left ankle was immediately engulfed in searing pain, but he pressed on anyway. His heart leapt when he saw daylight and realized he'd averted the dangers of the tunnel. He was slightly relieved to find Prescott no where in sight. In front of him sat a parking lot with one abandoned car. He found it unlocked and got in the driver's seat. But something wasn't right . . . he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something off about the car. He immediately tried to open the door, realizing despairingly that there was no way to open it from the inside. Starting to panic, he rolled down his shirt sleeve and broke the window with his elbow, glass shattering around him, pricking little places on his face and neck. He threw himself as far as he could away from the car just as it burst into flames.
When he opened his eyes, that familiar pistol was the first thing that came into focus. "Better luck next time, Shawn," Prescott bellowed, yanking him up by his arm and forcing him to walk in front of him. "Your team made good time. They've already found the tunnels. Too bad they'll die in them." Prescott dangled the detonator in front of Shawn's face.
"Juliet!" Shawn screamed in the direction of the tunnel, hoping beyond all hope that somehow she'd be able to hear him. "Juliet!"
"Now, that's breaking the rules," Prescott grumbled, once more beating all consciousness out of the already well-weakened detective.
...
"Shhhh . . ." Juliet hissed. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Carlton demanded.
"It sounded like . . ."
"Aw, hell," Carlton hissed. "A cave in! Everybody out!"
Carlton, the last of the group, barely made it out before the entrance sealed. Juliet, exhausted and well beyond any emotional restraint, gripped the hair at the top of her head despairingly, not even attempting to stem the sobs that gripped her body. She dropped to her knees, too distraught to remain standing. Gus was the first to go to her. He knelt beside her and rubbed her back.
"He'll be ok, Juliet. You know he'll find a way out."
She shook her head. "He's just going to prolong it until I'm there long enough to see," she sobbed. "This part's just a game. He's ultimately just going to shoot him . . . right in front of me. God, Shawn, I'm so sorry."
Carlton and Henry searched the area for almost an hour while Gus simply sat with Juliet. But they searched in vain. Juliet, finally able to lock into the detective and abandon the frightened girlfriend, began her own search. Before too long, she'd found the burned-out wreckage of the car Carlton and Henry had already dismissed.
"It's still warm," she whispered. "There's something about this car."
Henry eyed it cautiously. "What color shirt was he wearing, Juliet?"
"Yesterday? Umm . . ." she closed her eyes and imagined the last time she'd seen him. They'd had breakfast together, but he'd still been wearing his pajamas. Had she seen him before he left? She'd been in the shower when he'd changed and she wasn't out when he left. Wait . . . he'd poked his head in to let her know he was leaving. What color was the cuff on that sleeve? "Purple and gray," she stated definitively.
Henry held a shard of glass up in front of her, bits of purple and gray thread stuck to blood on it.
"Oh my god," she whispered.
Chaos ensued as Henry, Carlton, and Juliet all barked orders to the surrounding officers and into their radios. Blockades were set up, drag marks tracked, and evidence collected. The drag marks led to a little shack in an abandoned town, but there the trail went cold.
"Come on, Shawn," Juliet whispered. "Where are you?"