Note: Thank you all so much for the follows and the reviews. I love to hear what you all think! Thank you specifically to Jilsen, Red Hardy, SnowPrincess88, EastBlue, TinDog, ulstergirl, max2013, Caranath, and PaulinaAnn for the comments. I'll post the next chapter on Saturday. Hope you all enjoy!

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 3

The next morning, Frank stretched and yawned as he got up. He had arrived at nearly 2:00 a.m. because of a bad accident on a major highway on the way to Dryden, and he hadn't even had a chance to see his father or brother. He glanced at his watch, noting it was just after 6:00, the normal time at which he was used to waking. He was accustomed to getting more than four hours of sleep, though.

Taking a moment to rub his eyes and contemplate whether coffee was being served at the downstairs breakfast area, he remembered that today was Callie's last day of work and she would be getting up now. Figuring he wouldn't wake her and eager to hear her voice, he dialed her cell phone number, and she picked up on the second ring.

"Hi, honey," she said. "How'd you make out last night?"

He smiled at the sound of her voice. "I'm okay. The case is pretty complex. At minimum, things are picking up and changing. I still need to catch up with Joe and dad for details today. Just wanted to wish you a happy last day of work. How's Johnny doing?"

He could almost picture the smile on Callie's face as he listened to her voice. "Oh, he's good. He took Van and I out to dinner last night and he was thrilled that no one recognized him. We're just hanging out today after work and then Van is coming over again. We're all going to watch the finale of the show together."

"Did you get Johnny to tell you the ending?"

"He doesn't even know! Can you believe that? I'll explain later. Anyway, tune in if you can. If you have questions, I have friends in high places who might be able to clear them up," she joked. "Johnny says he needs you to tell him if he played a detective properly."

Frank laughed. "He won awards for his portrayal, and all I've gotten is a pretty average paycheck for it, so I would tell him that I think he's doing just fine! Is Van done with the fangirl thing yet?" he asked.

Callie giggled. "Yeah. She settled down. There is one thing, though," she went on.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm FINE," she replied. "Please don't worry. It's just that Johnny seems a little- off. He said he wanted to talk to both of us, but if you won't be back, he may need to just talk to me. I hope he's okay." She sounded somewhat apprehensive.

"Do you want me to call him later- maybe after you talk? If I can get free, I definitely will."

"Maybe. Yeah. Thanks, babe," she added.

"You're welcome. Anything else new? How's the baby?" he questioned. He was surprised when she paused before answering. "Cal?"

"Sorry," she said finally. "The baby is fine. I know it's only been a day- I just miss you. Be careful."

"I miss you, too," he answered, and he really did. "It's hard to concentrate on this case."

"Wanna talk about it?" she offered. "Or do you really not want me to know?"

"You don't want to know," he admitted. "But thanks. Listen, I'm have to get going. Please be careful in the city tomorrow. If you're tired, rest. Don't over exert yourself, honey. Tell Johnny I'm looking forward to seeing him. I just want to get back to Bayport and see you. I miss you- love you so much," he finished, unexpectedly emotional.

"That sounds great," Callie answered softly. "I'll be careful, so relax. I love you, too, babe. Bye." Frank hit the button on the phone and took a moment to reflect on how blessed he truly was. Here he was, married to his high school sweetheart and about to become a father. It was really still crazy to him how unpredictable life could be.

Two hours and three cups of coffee later, he finally met up with his brother.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Joe asked, grabbing a plate and filling it high with pancakes and eggs.

"About four hours. I've had less," he answered. "How are you? So what do we know? Where's Dad?"

Joe sat next to him at a little table. "It's not going well. Dad spoke to Fallon's wife yesterday- she was really distraught. He apparently went to go to the store in town and never returned. Surveillance video shows him at the market and leaving with bags. Unfortunately, the bags were found by his car, which was left in the parking lot."

"Any video from the lot?" Frank asked, yawning.

"Want a pancake?" Joe asked. "And the answer to your question is no."

Frank shook his head. "So is the answer to yours. I had a protein shake, thanks."

Joe rolled his eyes and retorted, "You know, Frank, a recent survey just came out that said that people who drink lots of water and eat right and exercise have a 40% higher risk of boredom and still have 100% certainty of dying." He suppressed a smile.

Frank laughed. "You're ridiculous, do you know that?"

Joe just stuck out his tongue.

Before Frank could comment further, a solemn looking Fenton came into the cafe and, catching sight of them, ushered them quietly to follow him. Joe grabbed his plate and a cup of orange juice and followed Frank down the hallway into Fenton's room.

"You okay, Dad?" Frank asked.

Fenton sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Not really, no. Early this morning, the body of David Fallon was found in the woods outside the town. Everything except the time frame matches up. He was gone approximately 5 days instead of a week, but he was bruised, dehydrated, had not eaten, and was shot- again, he bled out. It's March, as you know, and New York is no joke at this time of year. It's cold out. I feel terrible that we couldn't stop this. The police captain is personally going to notify his wife right now."

Joe suddenly lost his appetite. "Well, we were definitely one-upped here," he said at last. "The time frame changed, and then so did the sex of the victim. It doesn't make any sense." Before he could continue his thought, Fenton's phone started ringing.

"Hardy," he said into it. Frank and Joe watched as he sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with his hand. "Okay. Okay. Any difference? Hmmm. Yes- that's odd. Send the picture to my phone. Thanks, Ezra. I'm on it."

"What's the matter?" Joe asked.

Fenton said dejectedly, "The time frame is definitely escalating. The body of Fallon was just found, and, this morning, another ad appeared in the Bayport Times again. As usual, it was sent online via a proxy server and it's untraceable."

"Same ad?" Frank queried and Fenton acknowledged it. "Here- Ezra sent a screenshot of the ad. Take a look."

Frank took the phone from his father and showed it to both his dad and Joe, telling them "Look here": "'To BD. Here is your clue. It's all about what you do. The secret spaces will speak to you. From, AC."

"This is odd," Joe cut in. "Look. If you compare this ad to the others, you see that the first one started at the top spot in the column. Then the next one went to spot two. The next one is spot three. Today's murder was spot four. But look- the one that Collig just called about… it's down after two spaces. That's weird. Could it just be a formatting error? Would Mr. Webling know that?"

Frank furrowed his brow. "That's a good catch, Joe. Let me make a call." He disappeared into the hallway.

Joe looked at his father. "So what now?"

Fenton was staring at the screen before he spoke. "This is also unusual. Look- remember how I told you that the ads were numbered? You can see it here." Fenton started pointing at the screen. "The first ones go 1-4. This one is 7. Am I missing something?"

Before Joe could answer, Frank returned, his eyes deep in concentration. "Dad? Joe? Anytime someone places an ad, especially in a local paper like the Bayport Times, it's automatically placed by the person wanting the ad. Those two spaces were intentionally left empty. Why? That can't be an accident for a person who likes patterns so much."

"Who is BD? Or AC?" Joe went on, frustrated. "And why are spaces left blank? What does the jump from 4 to 7 mean?"

"It COULD mean that for victim 5, there might be victims 5, 6, and 7, right?" Fenton postulated, at a loss.

"No. No-I don't think that fits the pattern," Frank said quietly. "He would have to find three random victims, all of whom are either of the same initials and age OR who represent first names of E, F, and G, followed by last names of G, H, and I. And whomever is next would have to be 52. I honestly don't know."

"We're sure it's a he?" Joe asked, throwing out anything he could think of.

"We're not sure of anything," Fenton said, "but it's unlikely it's a female. Usually females don't sign anything with "From." It could be multiple people, but that seems unlikely, too. The person or persons would have to be familiar with New York towns and topography. I mean, it could be someone not native to New York, but, given the fact that first murders are usually closest to home… and the fact that the ads are being sent to Bayport… and the fact that someone is doing his research on alphabetized victims and would have to be strong enough to restrain at least one grown man in good shape- I'd say we are looking at a male or males; native New Yorker; obsessive- compulsive type. Maybe someone interested in mysteries or someone with an extensive history with police."

"So," Joe interrupted, "we could have one or more murderers. We could be looking for male or female victim or victims in close to probably 100 towns starting with E, F, or G. And we have to catch this person or people in under 5 days if the pattern continues, which we have been unable to do thus far even with the help of the police or the FBI. Where the hell do we even start?"

Fenton rubbed his temples. "I have absolutely no idea…"