Note: As always, thank you for reading and the reviews- they are very much appreciated! I love getting your feedback. Thanks SnowPrincess88, EastBlue, Red Hardy, Paulina Ann,ulstergirl, max2013, Caranath, and Hero76 for your reviews on the last chapter.

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 7

Joe frantically dialed Vanessa's cell phone, hoping against hope that she would pick up. Nothing.

"Damnit!" he cried, throwing his phone on the table. "What the hell happened?"

White-faced, Fenton excused himself from the room. Running into his den, he dialed the phone immediately. "Ezra!" he called to his old friend and Bayport Police Chief. "Did you see the story?!"

Collig's voice was grim. "When Joe called me earlier today, I thought he was full of crap," he said steadily. "And then I heard what happened in the city a few hours ago. Fenton, I don't understand any of this. Can you come into the station? I'll call my best people, reach out to our old contacts in the NYPD. You call the FBI team leaders. We need to find out specifically what happened." His voice softened a bit. "How are the boys? I can't even imagine how traumatized they are. Are you okay?"

Fenton tried to control his voice, but it came out much more unsteady than he would have liked. "We've been combing through every news outlet that we can find, thinking of who to call. Vanessa, Callie, John Gellers- they're all not answering. I tried to call in a few favors to get their phones traced, but it's unlikely that with a case this complicated, anyone involved would be careless enough to let them keep traceable phones." His voice wobbled. "They're shocked; absolutely terrified. So am I."

"I'm sorry, Fenton," Ezra said, kindly. "Don't lose hope. We don't even know for sure that what happened to the girls today has anything to do with our case."

"It sure as hell seems so now," Fenton managed.

"It does," Collig agreed. "But we need to discuss what we know. Make your calls. Meet me at the station in an hour."

"We'll be there," he managed, and hung up. As he went to turn, he caught sight of Laura, who was looking at him with fear. "Anything?" she asked.

He walked to her and hugged her to him, willing himself to stay in control. "We'll get to the bottom of this," he tried to assure her as he felt her trembling. "They'll be okay."

"They have to be," Laura managed, then stepped back from her husband. "Go," she added. "Do what you need to do." She met his eyes and turned slowly away, years of experience telling her that for her husband to function, he had to work; to think. This was one case he could not afford to get wrong.

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At the police station, Fenton, Frank, and Joe were ushered into a private conference room, where there were several other officers and FBI agents ready to talk. On the table in front of them lay several copies of the ads.

Collig spoke first. "Let me tell you what we know right out of the set today," he began, seriously, as several officers went to take notes. "At approximately 5:00 p.m. today, shooting was wrapping up for the first episode of next year's season of Criminal Hunters. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. One of the show's major stars, Jonathan Gellers, was sitting at one of the sets along with Callie and Vanessa Hardy as crew members and several other actors were clearing the set. What we have ascertained happened was that the set was rigged with several small explosions that were set off by a timer. Somehow, a large truck broke through the barrier of the set- the guard in charge of security was shot, but thankfully lived, though he couldn't radio for help. At that time, people were panicked and running as an additional series of smoke bombs went off, effectively blocking out the view of any security cameras. It appears as if, during the chaos, Gellers and the Hardy women were grabbed and taken in the truck, which subsequently escaped through the city streets. We are trying to locate the truck via tracking on street cameras and other means, but thus far have no leads."

"How?" Joe interjected, angry. "I don't understand how this could have happened!" He took a deep breath, trying, and failing, to remain calm. "It doesn't make any sense! I just watched the finale of that show the other day. Johnny is a good friend-he's staying at Frank and Callie's house, for God's sake!"

"The damned media was there covering filming and they got bits and pieces of the story before we even knew what was happening," Collig answered grimly. "So Twitter and Facebook and all social media is abuzz with half truths before we even get notification. That's news today- get it first; not get it right. It must have been horrifying to find out the way you did, Joe. I'm sorry."

Joe looked quickly at his brother, and was almost silenced by the look of utter despair on his face. He quickly realized that Frank hadn't uttered a single word to him since they had found out the news, and just as quickly realized that Frank would only be able to talk once all the facts were out. If Frank didn't have that to concentrate on- some lead of some sort- Joe didn't know what he would do; and that scared him.

Joe took a deep breath, realizing that he was the one who needed to be calm. It was disconcerting seeing the look on Frank's face, but he had to try to make sense of this. "The season finale had Johnny's character- and his best friend, and his friend's wife, who was pregnant-taken in the exact same way," he said evenly.

"Joe, tell everyone here what other thoughts you had about the show," Collig encouraged.

Joe fought his roiling emotions as he spoke. "Johnny plays a detective- the detective's initials are BD, the same as in the ads. In the series finale, he is kidnapped as retribution from a serial killer who had escaped from prison. That character had killed people alphabetically, and Johnny's character had figured out the crimes and put him away. In the show, they're taken to a place in the middle of nowhere to some creepy abandoned house called "The Woods". Come to think of it," Joe added as he spoke, mad at himself for having missed it the first time, "the killer's name was Anthony Charles- AC." He rubbed his temples as the connection to the show became glaringly obvious.

"Hmmm," Fenton speculated. "Yes. That's pretty compelling."

"What about the real murders?" Frank asked in a voice so soft that Joe barely recognized it. Even Fenton looked at his eldest son and rested his hand on his back in comfort.

"Yes- let's focus on that now," Collig said. "So we know that we have the ads that all read the same. Let's outline what we have:

The ads read: 'To BD. Here is your clue. It's all about what you do. The secret spaces will speak to you. From, AC."

The ads are numbered.

The first three victims were women, ages 12, 22, and 32, respectively. "Alice Conway- from Albany. Beatrice Donover- Brighton. Cathy Eisner- Cotning- were taken prisoner, at which time they were found to be beaten, malnourished, and dehydrated. They were then set loose in the woods for some reason, and escape was probably near to impossible because they had all been shot in either the arm or the leg. They bled out. The ads appeared exactly one week before the bodies were found.

The next victim was David Fallon, 42, of Dryden. He was the first male killed, and the pattern escalated. It was 5 days, not 7, after the ad was placed that was he was killed.

At that point, Joe noticed that the first four deaths were labeled 1-4, but the next ad, which was put up the day Fallon's body was discovered, was labeled #7, and two spots had purposefully been jumped over.

I think it was at that point that Frank hypothesized that perhaps the "B" in the ads may have to do with Bayport, but he never got to focus on that angle or work on how the ads were placed.

The next death was another woman, Gertrude Idhig of Glens Falls, who was 72 years old. Her body was discovered only two days after the ad was placed.

Finally, instead of the ad appearing again, there was a poem. "Seeker of truth/ follow no path/ all paths lead where/ truth is here".

There has been no additional murder in two days. Then, the kidnappings occurred this evening."

"Actually," the lead FBI investigator, Randy Gold, cut in. "Today, in the final #6 spot, approximately two hours before the incident in New York, another poem appeared."

"What?!" Fenton cried. "Why weren't we notified of this?"

"Because, Sir, we have been busy trying to locate the kidnapping victims, which has taken the obvious top priority."

Fenton shut his mouth with a snap. Well, he couldn't argue that.

"What did it say?" Frank asked, monotone. Joe again looked at him, concerned.

"It was a longer poem; a section of one, actually. It read as follows: "Noises that usually woke me from rest afraid of monsters/ kept my father awake that night, too,/ and I lay in the quiet noticing him listen, learning/ that he might not be able always to protect us."

Fenton shook his head. Something was wrong. Something was very off here.

"Dad," Frank said quietly. "Didn't you deal with a case a long time ago-when Joe and I were kids- where there was also some sort of weird alphabetical killing, or am I making that up?"

At first he was confused, but then Fenton, startled, looked at Collig. "You're right," he said, and Collig slowly nodded. "But that was years ago. The man killed three people- he was obsessed with murder mysteries. We got him- but he died in jail. Why?"

Joe stared at his brother. "Frank?" he asked, noting how pale he looked.

Frank raised a shaking hand to his forehead. When he spoke, his voice was so riveting that everyone turned to him. Frank had always had that power- his demeanor was so unassuming and he was so laid back that when he did speak, people paid attention.

"Are you sure he died, Dad?" Frank asked.

Collig nodded. "He was taken into custody; found guilty; locked away. Come to think of it, the jail-it was located in upstate New York- was closing down and the prisoners were getting ready to be transferred. There was a huge fire, and several prisoners died. Cotnig was presumed dead. Why?"

Frank got even more pale, if that was possible. "What was his name?" he asked.

"Alan Cotnig," Collig answered.

"Don't you see?" Frank asked in a tight voice. "I don't get the connection to the show yet at all- I have to think about that- but look at what we have. "AC"- Alan Cotnig. Let me guess- he was obsessed with murder mysteries- say, The ABC Murders? Isn't that by Agatha Christie?- AC again?"

Everyone stared at him as he went on. "A fire, huh? So I presume the body wasn't found. There's a lot more here that I need to think about, but start there." He turned and walked out of the room as Fenton and Ezra's eyes met.

"Could- could it be?" Fenton asked.

"I sure as hell am going to look into it," Collig answered, and motioned for Fenton to follow him, along with two agents.

Joe followed his brother outside into the frigid night and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. They stayed that way, wrapped in their own thoughts and fears, for a long time, staring at the emptiness and vast darkness before them.

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Vanessa opened her eyes, fighting the pounding headache that was making her nauseated. She was in some sort of darkened, barren room. The only window she could see was located high above her head, well out of reach, and it let the moonlight through. It also, she realized at once, let in the cold air- and it was cold, indeed. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to stop her teeth from chattering. Where the hell was she? What had happened?

As she acclimated herself to her surroundings, she head a faint moan and looked in the direction of the sound. At once, she recognized it. "Oh, God! Callie! Cal!" she called out as she fumbled her way through the darkness. It didn't take her long to find Callie crumpled in the corner. "Cal?" she squeaked out, tears falling from her eyes. "Are you okay?" She knelt down next to her and touched her arm.

Callie weakly sat up and hugged Vanessa. "I'm okay," she mumbled. "But it's so cold. What- what are we doing? Where are we?"

"I don't know," Vanessa whispered. She clung tightly to Callie.

Within five minutes, Johnny had found his way to them. "Van? Cal?" he asked as he came up behind them, giving each a quick squeeze. "What's happening?" He breathed deeply, trying to get his bearings.

Within a minute, the lights flicked on, temporarily blinding the three. When their eyes adjusted, Vanessa gasped. In front of them stood an older man, with skin scarred so badly that he looked like a monster. He held a gun out in front of them. Shaking, Vanessa stifled a scream.

"Detective Durant," he said, in a low, raspy voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Johnny shook his head in disbelief. "Wh- what?" he managed. "I'm- that's my tv name. That's not me!"

The man's eyes never moved. "And Mrs. Whitmore. And Ms. Copeland. It's lovely to have you as my guests."

Vanessa swallowed hard, recognizing the names from the show.

"I've invited you here tonight-" he began, but Johnny interrupted.

"Invited us?! You… you took us! Who are you and what do you want?"

The man's horrid face contorted angrily. "You will shut up, Mr. Durant, or you will die."

Callie grabbed Johnny's hand, fearfully.

"Mr. Durant, I know you don't understand the game yet, but you will soon. Just do as I say. Isn't it lovely to see how the next season will start? Will you live or die? Will your friends live or die? What will happen to that innocent child she carries?" he indicated Callie, and she recoiled, shaking. "All will be revealed soon. In the meantime, try to stay warm this evening. I- or someone close to me- will be back soon." With those words, he turned his back on them and walked away.

"What are we gonna do?" Vanessa cried, not even bothering to wipe away her tears. "He's crazy!"

"It's okay," Johnny answered, squeezing her shoulder. "I'll think of something. Try not to be afraid."

He turned to Callie, saw how badly she was shivering. Immediately, he remembered that it was exactly what had happened to the detective's wife in the show- she was the only one without a coat. "Oh, Cal," he sighed, and took off his own coat to give to her.

"It's okay," she managed. "You're c..c...cold."

Johnny rolled his eyes and wrapped the coat around her anyway, ignoring her. He took her in his arms, holding her close, trying to keep her warm. "Hang in there, sweetheart," he said softly, and kissed her head.

She nodded, shaking. Vanessa huddled close as well.

"Try to be strong," he said to both women. "We need to stick together and I need to think. This has something to do with my show. No matter what happens, we need to be in this together. Okay? I'll do whatever I can to protect you. I don't need Frank and Joe pissed at me on top of everything," he tried to joke.

Vanessa bit back a sob and nodded. Johnny held more tightly to Callie.

The night dragged on.