Chapter 5: Not What It Seems

Gracie rolled onto her side and then opened her eyes. Her head hurt. Where were they? The last thing she remembered was that she and Jossie were going to go on a reconnaissance mission to try and figure out the lay of the land. But then, someone grabbed them and put a cloth over her face.

Jossie was still asleep lying on her side next to her on the bed. This wasn't the same room they were in last night. She pushed herself up on her elbow and looked around. She could tell it was the morning because she saw the sunlight streaming through the window through the curtains.

The room was furnished with a bed big enough for Jossie and Gracie to sleep in it together, and the wooden floor looked clean. But it smelled dusty and of mildew and the door looked big and heavy and locked. The scary part about the whole room was that Gracie couldn't hear a thing; nothing from the outside and no voices coming from anywhere else in the house. She listened harder for any sign that the man who took them from Roy and Buddy was close, but she heard nothing.

She looked at her sister, still asleep, and ran her still pudgy hand over the bruise on her face. Jossie spent so much of her time protecting her that she never thought of herself first.

Gracie lay back down on the bed and closed her eyes to think. What could she do to get them out of here? Snapping her fingers, she knew what she had to do. She had to figure out the lay of the land. She had to go on a reconnaissance mission and she would have to do it by herself since Jossie was still asleep.

As quietly as she could, Gracie got up from the bed and made her way to the door. Testing the door knob, she was surprised when it gave way. She cautiously walked out and down the hall. Remembering to look around and notice unusual things, like Jossie said. The walls were covered with pictures of people she didn't know. There were pictures of a pretty lady who looked a lot like her mom. And there was a picture of a family, a daddy, a mommy, and two little girls. The man looked familiar but she couldn't remember where she'd seem him before.

Moving further down the hall, she made it to the stairs. She listened again to make sure she didn't hear anyone. Lightly, she counted each step, there were 15 of them. Wandering around the first floor she noticed that the furniture was covered with clear plastic sheets. Gracie suspected that no one lived here all the time.

Continuing her mission, she found the kitchen and the den in the back. Each of the rooms had a telephone but sadly none of them worked. Both the back door and the front door were locked and even after she unlocked the door knob the doors still wouldn't budge.

Hearing tires on the gravel outside she quickly looked out the window to see if she could get a look at the man's face that was coming out of the black car. As if sensing her presence the man looked at the window that Gracie was standing. Even though she was behind mostly closed blinds, she gave a little shriek and ran as fast as she could back to the room.

Jumping into bed with Jossie, she scrunched her eyes just as the door to their room opened. Gracie could sense him standing there looking at them but she still kept her eyes scrunched tight and almost afraid to breathe in case she gave something away. Breathe you ninny. She thought to herself. You're supposed to be asleep, not dead.

As the door shut, she opened one eye to peek. Her heart sank when she heard the click of the lock.

Downstairs, in what used to be the study, a slow smile spread across the face of the man responsible for taking Zoe Morgan's daughters. He was in awe of the beautiful Zoe Morgan as he examined the picture more closely, taking in her appearance. For a woman in her forties and after having children later in life, he body was magnificent; nothing middle aged about her at all. Though small in stature, her strong, slender legs seemed as if they would never end.

He held the photo lovingly to his chest; just above his heart. Smiling to himself, he walked out of the study, through the hallways and entered another room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It smelled like her. Her perfume, some of her clothes, in the months since they had first met, he was able to create this room, just for her, with some of her things.

Looking around the room, he zoomed in on the biggest wall. His eyes searched, considered, discarded possible spots for his new picture of his love. Ah, there it is, he thought, the perfect spot.

His smile broadened and he nodded approvingly. The new picture was surrounded by the other pictures he had amassed over the last few months. There was a picture of her running on the streets by her home. Every day she ran, it must be how she keeps her legs in such glorious shape. There was another picture of her, this one a close-up. She was smiling at the girls, lovingly. He sighed, imagining, convincing himself that it was he she was smiling at so lovingly. Still there was another one of her, dropping the girls off at school. They had started kindergarten just a few weeks ago. The entire wall was covered with pictures of her and her girls.

It took some effort, but he was able to pull away from his reverie. It was so easy to lose himself in this room; to dream of moments with her and her girls. A family. . .

She was driving him insane with want and need. Not being allowed to touch her or be with her every hour of every day was enough to drive him crazy.

Those idiots ruined his plans. They were supposed to just take the girls and hide them for a few days. They weren't supposed to lay a hand on his girls. But they did. When he saw the bruise on poor little Jossie's face, he lost it. He was supposed to swoop in and be the one to find the girls; that way ingratiating himself into the family. But now there was no way he could explain how he came to be in the company of the girls without giving himself away.

He'll just have to take them all away. Taking deep breaths he calmed himself. He had the girls already; it was just a matter of getting their mother to come to them. And he was positive she would come for them.

He hadn't seen her in days. He missed her. Though he knew it was early in the morning, he had to hear her voice.

Flicking on the burner phone, he hit the speed dial button and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Zoe Morgan," he heard hear barely woken up voice coming through the line.

He sighed dreamily and relished the sound of her voice; imagining that she was just waking up beside him.

"Hello? Who is this? Please don't hurt my girls. We'll give you anything just don't hurt them, please."

His smile widened at her plea and clicked the phone off. She said she would give him anything. He was counting on that. He closed his eyes and held the phone close to his heart. It wasn't much of a conversation, but it was a step in the right direction.

The plan . . . He couldn't help but smile again. It was so simple really. A few more finishing touches, a few more pieces in place, then everything will be to his liking.

Joss looked at the run down shack with frustration. It had been a long ride from Manhattan to this place, out of the way, practically in the middle of nowhere. Finding known hide-outs of Buddy Harris and Roy Mullen took longer than anticipated. Nothing connected the two kidnappers besides the fact that they worked together. There were no common friends, no common bosses, and no common hang-outs. They each had their preferences and they were scattered all over the city and the outlying suburbs.

When they had struck out at the location the tracking devices led them too, they scoured files, databases, anything that could tell them where the kidnappers' boss would take the girls. As she approached the dusty and abandoned structure, her heart stopped.

She waited until John reappeared through the front door, then sighed when he shook his head and looked around the emptiness surrounding the shack. Upon seeing the condition of the ramshackle building, her first thought was that it was a dumping ground. She didn't want to think about what could have been dumped there. So her sigh was one of relief that they hadn't found anything of value.

Following a hunch, Joss went to the back of the cars and looked at the tracks leading into the yard. Her hunch proved true when the only set of tire prints leading into the year had belonged to her vehicle. The same was true for footprints. Only hers and John's could be seen. They were the first people to visit the shack in a good long while.

John and Carter had taken Buddy Harris' list of three and had already struck out on the first two. This had been their last shot.

Fusco and Harold had taken Roy Mullen's list and. She was hoping they had better

Pulling out her cell phone from her pocket she checked the signal strength. Sighing with relief, she called Fusco to see if they had found anything at the hide-out he and Harold had gone to.

"Fusco, it's one big goose egg over here, John and I are the only ones to visit this place recently."

Agreeing to regroup back at John and Zoe's house, Joss clicked her cell off.

Joss observed John as he made his way back to the car. "Fusco struck out on their list as well." She noticed John's jaw tighten even though his expression hardly changed.

"How are you doing John?" She asked as she grabbed his arm.

"Fine," John replied.

She smiled, "Would you tell me if you weren't fine?"

He returned her smile; she could see the thanks in his eyes as he said, "probably not."

"You will tell us if there is anything more we can help you with. If you want us to call the FBI into this we would be more than happy to . . ."

"Honestly, Joss, I'm more concerned about Zoe . . ."

"That bruise on your pretty face courtesy of your wife?" Joss asked pointing to his bruised right cheekbone.

"Yeah . . ."

"John, the worst thing that can happen to a mother is when her child is taken from her. It's twice as bad if it happens in your own home while you were there. Trust me, I know. "

"I just hate to see her do that to herself. And you know how she is Joss; she shuts down and is very good at putting up an unaffected front. Damn, I know its remnants of her deep seated anger towards her father that she never really dealt with."

"You just have to be there for her John. This isn't something you can fix for her. She has to be able to let that anger go or deal with it. Do you want me to talk to her? About the girls?"

"Would you?" His look was that of a desperate man.

"I would have anyway, pretty boy." Joss said as she hugged her friend to her.