November 30th
To say that he'd had a few rough days would have been an understatement. After the vicious beating, Jamie had paced his cell for hours, burning with restless energy. But as the day – or night, he had no idea – wore on, his injuries had begun to throb and his muscles started to stiffen. Ribs might be cracked, he had added to his mental list after taking a deep breath. Without adrenaline to carry him on, he had felt every sting, the aftermath of every single blow to his battered frame.
The next day had been even worse. He hadn't dared to move much, unwilling to exacerbate the damage that had been done to his body. What was he supposed to be doing anyway? After all these days, he wouldn't miraculously figure out how to escape. Finally, he had had to admit to himself that the constant fear of death, the poor food and irregular sleep were beginning to wear him out. "It's amazing I lasted this long", he whispered grimly while he slowly washed the worst of the blood away from his face. Of course he didn't have a mirror and inwardly he was glad not to be confronted by the depressing sight.
After cleaning himself, he lay down on the mattress again, ate when food arrived a few hours later and then went straight back to lie upon the bed. He was toying with the thought of an afternoon nap when all of a sudden, the door opened and emitted the large, redheaded woman. Jamie stared at her groggily, waiting for her to say something. When nothing came forward, he propped his aching body up on one elbow.
"What are you doing here? Again."
"Proving a theory. You're Danny's little brother, aren't you? Jamie Reagan? I'll be damned, it is you." She'd already found confirmation in his face. Why hadn't she known that before? From the way she was running her fingers through her open hair, things had just gotten complicated for more than one of them. Deal with it, Jamie thought in an uncaring manner, lying back down. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of his bruises, but he made no effort to explain the situation.
"Quick thinking with the movie title. Bet there was a hidden message in there", she commented a little out of context, leaning against the chair. Immediately, Jamie tensed again, but contrary to Casper, the woman - he decided to name her Fire after her hair - seemed merely amused.
"No need to be afraid, I don't mind your plotting, as long as you keep from doing it again. From now on, you'll convey only the messages I tell you to. Understood?"
"Yeah", Jamie said hoarsely, tempted to put the pillow over his face. Why couldn't people leave him alone? Maybe he should try to escape again, yet the small gun held loosely in her palm deterred him effectively. Fire leaned in close, hiding both their faces from the camera.
"I met your brother the other day. He said to tell you Crossroads." The codeword! Amazing how many childhood games turned out to be deadly serious. Once, they'd discussed dozens of secret words that would have one or the other meaning. Crossroads had been a symbol for mistrust on one side but seeing a good chance on the other. Like a road to freedom, only that you could not trust the messenger.
"Okay. What am I supposed to do?", Jamie whispered hurriedly. Time might be running out, Casper could appear any second.
"Just trust me, I'll get you out of here when the time's right", Fire replied. Her expression was serious, but was there falseness glinting in her eyes? Was she friend or foe? What would it be? Jamie's head was on overload, so he merely nodded. Fire patted his shoulder, then made a strange gesture. Something beeped and the door opened. Seconds later, she was gone in a whirl of activity, being stopped just outside of his cell. Leaving me again to endure whatever that sick bastard is planning to do to me, Jamie thought with a growing sense of hatred. She was no better than Casper. Through the thick metal, Jamie could hear their angry voices going back and forth, probably Fire being interrogated by Casper about the content of the moments the camera had not been able to catch.
Whatever, Jamie thought, if you tear each other apart, all the better. Please open the door while you're at it. Drowsily, he flexed his fingers and turned around on the too small bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. He was just about to close his heavy eyes when his name was shouted. Odly enough, it wasn't Casper's outraged cry but Fire's. "What have you done to Jamie Reagan?"
"Beat me up, but it's not like you care", he murmured and tried to shut them out, tried to get the voices out of his head so he could finally find some peace. Some small part of him was concerned by his own lack of interest, yet it was quickly overpowered by the thought of sleep; Inviting, enjoyable, restful sleep. Even Caspers answering tone seemed less loud, rather defensive and to Jamie's ears he sounded soothing like waves on the sand. As he slipped deeper into the world of dreams, Fire's accusation pierced through the haze. "You drugged him!"
What? I've got to wake... wake... up, his mind cried out, knowing that it was already too late. He couldn't move and an instance later, he was fast asleep.
Danny had been tossing and turning for over three hours. Finally he decided to take a walk, clear his head a little. Careful not to wake Linda, he got up and reached for his running shoes when he heard a noise downstairs. Springing into cop-mode, he left the sneakers and instead pulled out a gun. The safety was switched on, symbolizing Danny's feeling of security within his house. No way a burglar or other criminal was stupid enough to break into his home. Walking down the stairs, he saw the light on in the kitchen and hid the gun with a skilled movement before his elder son could see it.
"Jack", Danny whispered, slightly worried, "why are you up at this time of the night?"
"Just had a bad dream."
"Wanna talk about it?" Jack shrugged nonchalantly, making Danny smile and sit down on the table. His inquiring look was met by another shrug.
"Uncle Jamie taught me Morse-code a few weeks ago and now I always dream he's trying to reach me. This little red light keeps blinking SOS and sometimes I even see it after I wake up. Am I going crazy, Dad?"
"No, of course not", Danny hurried to say. The gun at his back made him slightly uncomfortable now, so he didn't dare hug his son, fearing a huge discussion with Linda in the morning if Jack noticed the weapon. Frowning, Danny returned his attention to the argument again, thinking about little red lights that kept showing up in his own nightmares. Cameras, recording everything. Cameras?!
"Jack, buddy, did you say you had this dream a lot lately?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Would you mind if I quickly checked your room?" Bewilderment was written all over Jack's features, but he nodded curiously. I love you, kiddo. Together they climbed up the stairs, entering his son's room where Danny stopped his son from flipping on the lights. His eyes scanned the furniture, but coming up with nothing. Maybe his gut had been wrong. Even with the light on, he found nothing, nodding to himself in satisfaction. There was no reason for a camera after all. But the same instance he was about to go back to his own chamber, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Son. Of. A. Bitch. Jack had been right, there it was, not blinking and very well hidden, yet there was no doubt. Danny made a step forward to furiously yank out the device, then stopped himself and casually reached for the baseball on a shelf instead, which he casually placed in front of the lense.
"We should play more", he said and ruffled his son's hair amiably. Jack's enthusiasm was limited, which was doubtlessly a result of the lateness, Danny concluded.
"Go back to bed", he said, gritting his teeth when his son climbed under the covers, not suspecting a thing. Swiftly, Danny closed the door and made his way over to the bedroom, where a sleepy blond angel was waiting for him.
"What was that about?"
"I'll tell you tomorrow", Danny assured her, glancing around inconspicuously, not finding any evidence of another camera. Maybe there was an explanation for the one in Jack's room as well, perhaps he'd been overreacting. Things might look better in the morning.
"You know what? I love you, you are so beautiful tonight", Danny said, kissing her soundly and pulling her into his arms. "We should do something romantic, it's full moon and the river will look almost as gorgeous as you do. Come on!" She just stood there, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Then she must have noticed something in his eyes, because her stance softened and she let herself be lead to the wardrobe. Silently they dressed and went out the door, getting into their car. As soon as the doors were closed, Danny let out a long breath.
"That's better", he said, relaxing and filling his wife in on the camera and his suspicions about the other rooms. Her behavior erased any doubts he'd had, her agitation matching his own. Linda came to the same conclusion he had minutes ago.
"There is only one man we got to know recently that has a liking for filming. Do you really think it's him?"
"Maybe. I'm going to call Dad and Erin. They need to know", Danny decided, pulling out his phone. Half an hour later, they all met in a 24-7 coffee shop, Erin bringing a grumpy Nicki along. Danny's niece only perked up after he'd finished his story, lifting her head from the table. Nicki pursed her lips, fidgeting with a napkin.
"I think – I'm not sure – that there might be one in my bedroom, too."
"What?", Erin said, aghast.
"Well, after Jack told me about his dreams, I started having them too. Figured it was just a weird suggestion thing, having those dreams because someone else described them to me... but now I wonder whether Jack's telling made me notice the camera when I was partly awake or something." She looked uncertain and nervously bit her lip and it was Danny who again reassured her.
"I believe you."
"Now", Frank begun, thoughtfully eyeing his family, "we can either turn our houses upside-down and destroy all the surveillance equipment, which might lead to further destabilization on the criminal's part, or we could leave them be and use them to our advantage."
"Like how? I don't know what you're thinking, but I don't want to be watched all day by that sick person", Erin said. Danny let his sister talk, but agreed with his father. They would need any head start they could get on this bastard.
"Can we go back to bed now? It's past 2am in the morning and I've got a physics exam tomorrow", Nicki groaned. Danny was almost startled by her reaction, having to remind himself that the world continued on even if terrible things happened. Daily life didn't just stay on hold.
"Yeah, let's all...", Henry said, being interrupted by Danny's phone ringing. He cringed, earning a sideways glance from his wife. Who was calling him in the middle of the night? When he read the name on the display, he relaxed, if only slightly.
"It's Arabella, I've got to take this." All eyes followed him as he stepped a outside, reconsidered and returned to his folks. They had the same right to any information he did.
"Danny?"
"That's me", he quipped tiredly. Arabella didn't entertain herself on the banter, keeping her voice even and although she did seem a little angry when Danny told her she was on speaker, she didn't disagree. During the last few days, she'd been asking around to find Jamie, she told her audience. Contacting all kinds of persons, finally coming across a single hint.
"I won't elaborate on that - anonymous sources and all - but I was able to get your message through to your brother."
"And? Where is he? Can you find him?", Erin interrupted. There was silence and Danny was afraid Arabella had simply hung up on them, then he heard her sigh.
"No, I could not. Not yet, anyway. But he said to tell you Crossroads and Graveyard."
"What's that supposed to mean?", Henry asked quietly so the woman on the phone would not hear. Danny motioned that he would explain later, clearing his throat to win a little time. Graveyard? Why would Jamie ever give him the codeword for 'kill the messenger'? They'd always joked that in every good gangster movie, the messenger ended up on the graveyard first, hence the stupid codeword. Hastily he scribbled the note on Nicki's napkin and showed it around, shrugging and trying to look clueless.
"Are you sure? Graveyard and Crossroads?", he repeated to keep Arabella on the phone a while longer, giving his family time to sort out the riddle. There was no mistaking Arabella for the messenger, or could the masked men be meant? No, unlikely.
"Of course I'm sure", Arabella replied, consternation lacing her voice. Suddenly Henry took hold of the pen, writing down an answer in that erratic penmanship of his. 'Ask her to meet!' Danny raised his eyebrow in bewilderment, then something clicked in his head. How could he have missed it?
Seeing a possibility. No trust. Kill the messenger. Of course Jamie didn't want him to assassinate Arabella, that wouldn't gain anything. What if there was more to the message than those to words?
"What exactly did he say when he gave you those words?"
"Why does it matter?", she shot back, clearly feeling that something was off. Danny steadied his breath, calming himself before answering evasively.
"He said to give the message back to you. Crossroads. Then he added Graveyard. Why is that so important to you?" There it was. Back! Danny smiled, giving a thumbs-up to his smart grandpa. Reading the words backwards, you more or less got The messenger kills me. Trust not. Possibility I see. Jamie was a genius!
Suddenly Danny remembered something else: the nearly clean face of his brother, apart from the blood around his mouth. The band-aid on Arabella's hand that was precisely big enough to conceal bite marks. Had she? Had Jamie? Or was he finally going insane from the pressure? Either way, he had to convince the woman to a second meeting.
"I can't explain over the phone. The perp is a tech-freak, he might be listening in. Can we meet another time?", he asked, praying that his improvised explanation made more sense to her than it did to him.
"Sure. Anything for the life-saver", Arabella stated, then the line went dead. Smiling like a maniac, Danny faced his family, who were still mostly confused.
"Please tell me you know what you're doing", Erin urged, drawing a chuckle from her brother. A predatory grin stayed on the cop's face as he patted his sister's back.
"Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing. And I know how to get Jamie back."