Friday March 10th 2006

9:06 AM

Former home of Leonardo Cramer. 1020 Munroe Rd.

Just outside the city limits of Las Vegas NV.

Cramer was in panic mode. He hadn't expected the ambient sleeping pill he's crushed up and slipped into Paris's dinner to hit the boy so quickly. He had estimated that the dose was weak, it would give Paris three, maybe even four hours to enjoy the video games before he would start to feel sleepy. Cramer hadn't expected to go into the game-room to check on Paris and find the boy slumped in one of the chairs, out like a light.

He had panicked at first, Cramer knew Paris had some allergies and he had been scrambling to remember if any of Paris's allergies were drug related. Of course it was then Cramer realized he had given Paris the same amount he had given Grant, who was at least fifty pounds heavier than Paris.

As if to add insult to injury the chatter over his police scanner had increased and there was only one subject floating between the cops and the dispatchers, his name, his address, and that he was not to be approached until the FBI was on scene.

Anyone else in this position would be panicking, running for the hills. Not James Cramer, he had a duty to finish. Let the Feds come as long as Paris was no longer forced to suffer this world James's capture wouldn't be the biggest concern he had.

Cramer did have to curse the timing however, he had plans for Paris's last few hours on earth to be as special as could be. He had planned to take the boy to the Hoover Dam since he had heard during a conversation with Eric that Paris had never been to the Dam. Cramer knew that it was a humbling sight, he had always enjoyed it and knew Paris would too.

Then they would explore an abandoned little old west town that Cramer's uncle had owned. It was not far from the famous dam and given that Paris had a real love for things spooky and historic it would be the perfect little place for him to explore and experience, before returning to the city limits so Paris could see his mother's grave again.

It would be at the grave of Leslie Smith, Cramer planned to put Paris to sleep. He had thought over and over the best place to leave Paris and he knew the one place (at least lately) Paris had been most at ease and would have picked for himself…was his mother's final resting place.

Of course that had been the plan, a plan that looked like it was going to fall through. He had been so careful…Cramer couldn't figure out how they had discovered him.

Cramer sighed, he would just find out when and if the time came, if there was one thing he had learned from watching all those cop dramas, cops liked to tell the suspect exactly how their brilliant detective work had solved the case.

Even if that was the case, there was no reason to make it easy to connect him, none of the officers would understand his good intentions. He had been saving all of the children, each one of them had been teased and bullied, if not by their peers, by their own families, it was only a matter of time before each one reached a breaking point; a breaking point which could be taking their own life or taking the lives of others.

Cramer knew the statistics, he knew the facts, how many serial killers had the FBI themselves tracked down whose childhood had been an endless day after day of bullying, teasing, hurt? Excluding those sadists and sociopaths who were just born to kill, had those normal men and women not been the targets of their peers and families, there might be fewer serial killers.

And suicides, how many times a day did Cramer read about someone somewhere taking their own life, whose to say that the depression and decision that they needed to die could not be linked to a childhood filled with cruelty bestowed upon them

"It makes perfect sense" Cramer mumbled to himself as he lifted Paris gently from the chair. Even Paris fell into that category. Cramer knew how much bullying Paris faced, from his peers whom he far suppressed in intelligence, to that idiotic woman, Victoria, Paris's caseworker who had prevented Leslie Smith from officially adopting the boy and who was still fighting Eric and Lori Williamson as they tried to take full and legal custody of Paris. Not to mention…she had forced Paris to go to the middle school for math and English, not to help Paris, not to encourage his intelligence and help him see his potential, but to prove that Paris was some kind of super genius kid, her ticket to glory and fame. It had only been with Cramer's pushing and threats, had Victoria backed off and allowed Paris to return to elementary school.

Not that it mattered, Paris needed his mother, Eric and Lori were wonderful people, but neither knew how to really handle a child as special as Paris, they submitted easily to the whim of Victoria, they had allowed Paris to be subjected to middle school long before he was mentally prepared for it, all because Victoria had claimed it was in Paris's best interest.

Poor Grant, he had been a caring and intelligent kid, but the school only saw a troublemaker, not a boy with a learning disability, who had been subjected to his father's physical, emotional, and verbal abuse…and had watched as that abuse was turned on his mother…killing her.

The school had insisted on ignoring the bullying that Grant was put through each day, forgetting the boy's painful past.

Each day Grant faced at school only reflected more so in his home life, he had been through so many foster families, Cramer knew it was a wonder he had not been put in a group home permanently.

Grant had five years…five years left of the system before that system would throw him to the curb expecting him to find his own way in life, if Grant had made it that far at least. Cramer never had Grant pegged to take his own life, but he knew revenge lurked in Grant's eyes, he knew the uncontrollable temper Grant had… and that had been Cramer's fear…Grant pulling a Columbine, that was why he was so desperate to get Grant out of the district and into the private academy in Boulder Springs.

So many children…so many who needed him. Cramer had taken care of the ones he knew needed him, but he knew there had to be so many others. He had been lucky with the five soon to be six he had rescued.

Two of them had been by chance…had his former co-workers not kept him in the loop on certain cases he never would have learned about little Gracie and her awful home life. And if he hadn't decided to go to the high school football game with his friend and fellow guidance councilor, Cramer never would have seen nor learned about Mike's ungrateful and bully of a father.

No one…not the schools, nor the parents seemed to notice nor care about the early warning signs.

Angie had been such a sweet and caring kid, she had wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, if not that a doctor, or maybe an author. She had big dreams and never had a cruel word to say to anyone, no matter how little they returned her kindness.

Cramer had seen the warning signs, but he hadn't done anything about it and that fact still haunted him he could have saved Angie. After her death he had tried to get criminal charges brought against the girls who had exposed Angie, but the school refused to support him, even Eric Williamson, his close friend and detective said that it would be nearly impossible, Angie's death had been ruled a suicide, there was nothing that could be done.

No…not if James Cramer had anything to do with it, they would all see, everyone would see.

He had reached his study by now, the room Paris had nearly found earlier. James knew Paris was a naturally curious kid, he also knew that Eric had high hopes for Paris in life. The first time James had spoken to Paris's class he had talked to the kids individually, it was the first James learned what Paris wanted to be when he grew up…a FBI agent. This of course had been while Paris's mother Leslie was still alive, she had encouraged this dream, anyone who truly knew Paris would see quickly that he had the potential to be great at anything he did.

It was a shame that no one ever saw the Paris that Cramer and the Williamsons saw, not one of Paris's peers gave him the chance to shine.

In Cramer's arms, Paris groaned and Cramer hurried his step through the false bookcase and up to the old servants quarters at the top of the house. It was the perfect place to hide Paris until…well until it was time to finish what had been started.

A/N: Here come the succession of short chapters.