Nick looked about, trying to find someone who would leave such evidence on his truck. It looked fresh, too.

"Nick, what's wrong?" Catherine asked, coming closer, her flashlight illuminating the hand print.

Nick turned to Catherine. "I think we've got another suspect or something. They were trying to get into my truck." He showed her the blood and hand print. His flashlight grazed over something and Catherine grabbed his hand to stop the light on something. "What?"

"Look..." Catherine quickly put her kit down and rummaged around for her tweezers. She took a small bag and the tweezers and gently pulled out a fiber from the door jam. "It's got something red on it. Nick, it looks like your truck is going to be 'confiscated' for this investigation."

Nick shrugged. "Scratch the paint, take out the engine, just figure out if this stuff is linked to the crime. But I'll need a ride."

-Sara-

"Hey, you guys are back early." She set down her magnifying glass and looked Nick once-over. "Why, might I ask, are you covered in mud?"

"Caked in mud," Nick corrected. "I'm caked in it because the body rolled off, into a ditch that was mud filled. I was the stupid one and waded in. Body's down stairs in autopsy. Anything on the vic's date book we found earlier?"

"Just some smudges and a couple of partials. I sent some grains I found in the corner of one of the pages to Trace. Hodges would have more." She put a hand on her hip and light table. "By any chance, did either of you see Greg outside?"

"No, why?" Nick asked, genuinely confused.

Catherine's heart began to race.

"He went out nearly an hour ago to take a phone call. He said it was from someone important."

Catherine leaned on the light table. "Then I think I know why we found those prints on your truck, Nick." She pushed off and jogged down the hall.

Nick looked at Sara. "What was that all about?"

"Nobody told you?" Sara suddenly stood up-right. Nick's face was confused and frustrated. "Oh, um, I thought they had." She gently placed her palms on the table. "Greg got a threat from a neighbor about being taken hostage. He didn't think much of it and told us that it was just that; a threat. He said his neighbor's weren't that kind of people."

"And this has something to do with Greg's phone call?"

"Maybe," Sara whispered. "Look, let's just focus on the guy who died in the ditch first. Greg'll be fine. I mean, he survived an explosion and being fanny-smacked. He'll be fine."

-Greg-

He woke with a start and tried to sit up. The motion caused something to rattle. He looked down at his left leg. There was a leather strap bound tightly to his ankle and connected to a long, thick chain. There was something resembling dried blood on the side and Greg felt his heart tighten. What was that? Blood? Or paint?

He slowly looked around, the shirt on him not really warming his torso. His legs were covered by his torn jeans. The shirt had probably been changed because he looked dirty with it on.

The house was easy to memorize. A crack on the wall opposite the bed. A bed stand with a copy of Twilight on it, in paperback. A single lamp in the far corner. A door to the left of the bed, if you're sitting on it. A window on the right. The walls were white-washed, save for the crack. The floor was concrete. The window was high, meaning it was a basement or a bathroom. Either way, it was somewhere where the window had to be high.

Greg took note there wasn't a door knob on the inside. He had no way to get out anyways, since the shackle on his ankle only had so much chain.

He watched the door slowly open and he quickly lay down to feign sleep. He was going to have to play along, at least until he could determine if he was really where he thought.

"Aw, you're still tired from last night! I saw you running about at work."

Greg wanted to open his eyes and glare at the guy, but instead, he lay still. He felt the back of someone's knuckles brush his cheekbone. By reaction, he opened his eyes and then blinked. The lamp was on and the window was open. The sunlight was hitting him in the face.

"Well, good morning, Greg. You've been here all night. Had a good sleep?"

Greg turned his head and saw the guy's face.

Stubble growing along his jaw line, a slightly trimmed mustache. His eyes were like dark amber pieces of glass. His skin was slightly tanned. There was a scar on his left jaw line that was shallow but old. His face was somewhat dark, but it seemed to glow when Greg looked at him.

"Who are you?" Greg asked. This didn't look like his neighbor.

"I just dyed my hair. Like the black?" he asked, touching his curly hair. "I did it, since I saw the way you look at him all the time."

Greg had no idea. "I look at a lot of 'him's, which one?" he asked, trying to get into the guy's head.

"Oh, it's all about him with you." He took hold of the edge of the mattress. "Don't talk about him. You belong to me now. Me! He didn't even try to take you!"

Greg backed against the wall. "Okay, okay, I won't! Just don't yell at me!"

-Nick-

He rounded the corner and looked up. "Catherine, I got your text, what's so...?"

Catherine, Sara, and Langston were all standing around the light table.

Nick looked suspicious.

"Nikki, your truck is in the impound." Catherine looked down at the light table. "This is Greg's hand print and blood. There's signs he left something in the bed of your truck. Since you've got no way of knowing what Greg's done, it's you who's become one of our suspects."

"Be aware, Nick, that now you're under surveillance. Don't take it personally, but you're one of the suspects in Greg's disappearance." Sara came around to Nick's side of the room. She reached out and touched his elbow. "Look, this is not without restraint. We want you to take us to Greg's house. You're the only one who's got his address. You're the only one who knows what his house looks like."

"How... don't answer that." Nick looked up at the other two. "I'll take you to his house, if you guys can give me a lift there."

"Right. To Greg's house, but not tonight. There's still tomorrow." Catherine sighed. "We need Conrad to come up with leads for us to follow. Until then, we need to hold tight for one more shift." Catherine looked Nick right in the eye. "You need to give us access to all your communication lines. We need to know why Greg left evidence with you."

Nick nodded in agreement. Something about this felt oddly like the time they found Greg in the alleyway, covered in blood and so swollen he couldn't speak or see. Nick had felt the rage then, but this wasn't rage, it was some other kind of beast.

The beast was colored green...