Chapter 7: Taken Again

John looked across the street at the entrance of the homeless shelter. The building was made of plain, red brick. Nothing in its facade made it distinguishable from the other buildings that surrounded it. The sign above the front door was very low key as well. He had hated to leave Zoe by herself at home, but he had needed to follow up on this lead. His anxiety was tempered when Joss had arrived as he was leaving.

He'd lived in places like this, once upon a time. He didn't care for it now anymore now than he had when he'd been forced to seek refuge in such an environment. Ever since Harold had found him and gave him a purpose for living, John considered himself lucky. When he and Harold started on this journey of protecting the irrelevant, he never thought, never even dreamed that he would survive past that first year. Yet, here he was years down the line, he had a wife, two beautiful little girls, and another child on the way. Who would have thought?

Taking a deep breath, John walked across the street toward the front door of the shelter. It was mid-afternoon, most of the residents would be long gone, it would be as good a time as any to ask the head of the shelter a few questions.

"You're not allowed in here until after five . . ." came a tired voice, accompanied by the wan face of a man coming out of the back office. "Whoa!" he exclaimed when he saw John. "I'm sorry, I thought you were one of the …"

"No, I'm not," John agreed evenly. "I'm here to see Jake Muller."

"That's me . . ." The man said motioning for John to follow him into the back office. "Have a seat," he directed John to the couch. "Is this about that idiot brother of mine, got himself killed?" He asked, as if it were common place that strangers came in looking for information about his brother.

"Do you have any idea who he was working for before he died?" John asked.

Jake cringed and shook his head. "Roy told me nothing. To be honest, I never asked. Plausible deniability. I never wanted to know," he spoke in disgust.

"Do you know anyone else that might know what Roy was up to?"

"Nope," Jake shook his head again. "Roy didn't make many friends. He and that Buddy hung out with another friend from way back. Can't remember his name, but he did good for himself. Keith, Jim, Peter, I'm so bad with names, was a carpenter or something like that."

"Here's a number you can call if you remember anything else," John said, handing Jake a folded slip of paper. "Well, thank you for your time."

"Good luck," Jake called out, not even bothering to rise.

He watched her as she drove up; the time had come. His heart soared as she got out of her car and smiled at him in greeting. Waving his hand, he smiled back at her thinking that it had been so easy; getting her to come by herself. He gripped the cloth in his hands, behind his back, glad that after the long wait, she was his.

"I'm glad you were able to make it," he whispered, as he brushed a strand of brown hair out of her eyes. He realized his mistake when her eyes widened in shock at his touch. He sighed, silently cursing himself as he crashed the cloth on her face. He saw the realization dawn on her as the drugs took effect and she went limp and unconscious in his arms. She was finally his and he would be damned if he let anyone take her from him.

She should never have been so trusting, coming to meet him by herself. He knew he had appeared harmless, a stuttering, shy, man. Picking her up, he kissed her gently on the lips. He smiled when he took her to his car, looking around for good measure, making sure no one was around to stop him. Gently, he puts her in the car, kissing her once again before wrapping a blanket round her and shut the door.

Jossie and Gracie fought their fear as they heard the door unlocking. It had been days since the man had taken Gracie and Jossie from Roy and Buddy. They still didn't know what he looked like because he never came to see them. He left food for them at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He brought them books to read and some toys, but other than that, they never saw or heard him.

"Jossie? Gracie?" a commanding voice called out as the door was pushed open. "Answer me!"

"Y-yes sir?" Jossie responded.

"If you promise to be good and not try to run, I have a surprise for you girls." the man said in a sing-song voice.

"We p-promise to be good sir," Jossie replied looking at her sister, shrugging her shoulders.

"Such polite little girls you are, you're momma taught you well didn't she?" The voice said, still not coming around the door.

"Our daddy did too. He said to always say sir or ma'am and to never forget please and thank you," Jossie added thinking that would score some points with the man.

"Of course I did . . ." the man replied causing both girls' brows to furrow in confusion. That voice wasn't their Daddy's voice.

Both girls gasp as the man stepped around the door, carrying their Mommy in his arms.

"Mr. Winters," Gracie said her eyes even more confused than before. Mr. Winters had always been nice to them. He brought them candy when he came to work on their house.

"Why are you doing this? Why is Mommy asleep?" Jossie asked, just as confused as her sister.

"She's just resting," Winters said with a laugh, ambling towards the bed and laying Zoe down next to the girls.

"Where's our daddy, Mr. Winters?"

"I'm your daddy now, girls. And once your mommy comes to her senses, we'll be one happy family."

"But Mr. Winters . . . we already have a daddy." Jossie pointed out.

"No!" he shouted, almost slapping her as she shrank away from him. "It's Daddy, not Mr. Winters! Get it right or you won't be part of this family."

Jossie and Gracie were scared, the man they had known for the past three months never shouted and was nice. This Mr. Winters was very scary.

Kyle Winters watched the girls shrink away from him. Sighing, he left them alone with their mother. She would explain it to them. For all their sakes, she better get through to those girls. Because he was starting to realize that they were maybe more trouble than they were worth.

John shook his head, never in his life had he ever felt so incompetent. In the span of just three days, his daughters and then his wife had been taken from him. After the girls were taken, he should have not let Zoe out of his sight. He assumed that even after the girls had been taken from his home, that it was still safe because they had re-fortified it. With no one coming or going that they hadn't cleared in the past. He should have known better, than to assume that she would be safe because she had insisted that he follow up on the lead at the homeless shelter. He assumed, and damn it, he was wrong. Nothing was one hundred percent full proof.

Joss, Finch and Fusco looked helplessly on as their friend was being torn apart by guilt and fear. None of them would ever forgive themselves if anything happened to John's family; they knew they had to find them soon.

John looked out the window, and then towards the picture frames on Zoe's desk. He picked up the one holding the picture of Zoe and the girls. Their smiling faces begging him to come get them.

"Just hang in there," He whispered to the photograph, his fingers caressing their radiant smiles.

"We're going to find them John, they are tough, Zoe's with the girls I'm sure and she will do whatever it takes," Joss said, and put a hand on John's shoulder. He nodded; his fingers hesitant to leave the girls' faces. Excusing himself, he muttered something about wanting some time alone. He knew his wife would protect their girls with her life. But who would protect her? It was his job to protect her, his and none else's. God, he had never felt so helpless in his entire life.

He locked himself in the hallway bathroom. Finally letting go, tears started falling down his face. Tears of frustration, anger, and fear. His family had been taken and he hadn't a clue why or how to find them.

His short jaunt towards self-pity was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. Wiping the tears away, he answered with a harsh, "What!"

"Uh, yeah, this is Jake Mullen; you came in this afternoon to ask me about my brother?"

"Yes . . ."

"I remembered the name of that guy Roy and Buddy hung out with back in the day . . . he wasn't a carpenter. He was a builder. He works as a general contractor and does home renovations. His name's . . ."

"Kyle Winters?" John guessed.

"Yeah, that's him. If anyone would know what my idiot brother was up to, it would be him. I gotta warn you though; Roy always said he was a bit weird. His wife and kids were killed in a freak home invasion a couple of years back. He's never been the same since. "

AN: It's gotten eerily quiet out there folks. Is anyone else besides Heather and SWWoman reading this? How about a "oh hell no he didn't" or a "Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot"? Anyone? Anyone? Beuller? Beuller?