A/N: The whole story is dedicated to HAZEL, because without her daily serving of CAPSLOCK love, this wouldn't be what it is!

For those who have read "Part One"… here it is, the first chapter of the Sandbrook case. I hope you will enjoy it. For those who haven't read "Part One" – I would strongly recommend to do so, but I did provide a synopsis and a brief introduction to the OCs you will meet in the story (please refer to the Prologue) in case a pre-Sandbrook story is not your cup of tea (full disclosure – I do not like Tess). And now on to the events who will in the end lead to our favorite detective staring at the horizon for endless hours…

A Million Holes Poked In The Soul – Part Two

For all of the loved ones gone
Forever's not so long
And in your soul
They poked a million holes
But you never let them show
Come on its time to go

And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end

Devotchka – "How It Ends"

CHAPTER 1

DI Alec Hardy stormed through the main CID room and slammed the door of his office behind him. He threw his jacket over his chair and tossed his glasses on the desk. He paced a few steps back and forth, rubbing his eyes with his long fingers. There was a knock on his door.

"What?" he growled at the intruder. He didn't want to be bothered. What did people not understand about the concept of a closed door?

"Do you want my head on a silver plate or are you good with just biting it off?"

Christ, why did his boss always have to try to be witty? It was irritating him to no end. He snorted as a response and plopped on his chair. He nervously tapped his desk and stared ahead. CS Edward Baxter was patiently waiting for his invitation to sit down. Hardy gestured vaguely to the sofa, but didn't say anything.

"Care to explain, what that was all about out there?" Baxter was referring to the morning briefing that had just ended.

Hardy was going over the meager amount of evidence they had so far with his team. At some point or other he lost his temper with the stuttering DC who was slowly reciting the movements of the parents on the night of the disappearance of the two girls. He had snapped at the poor woman and yanked away her notebook to proceed to read it out loud himself, commenting on how disorganized these notes were.

It was a mean thing to do and he knew it, but his nerves were fraying already. He hadn't slept last night and hadn't been home in the last 24 hours or so. He still had had no opportunity to talk to Tess after their argument and he highly doubted this conversation would happen anytime soon. Having to listen to her going over the plan for the day without even as much as a looking at him, tipped him over the edge and he stormed off as soon as the briefing was done.

He sucked in a breath through his nose and pressed his lips together. Baxter only raised his eye brows, indicating he was still waiting for an answer.

"Fine! I was an arse to DC…" He'd be damned, if he could actually remember names.

"DC Swenson," Baxter sighed, exasperated with his DI's inability to recall the people who worked with him.

"What do you want me to do? Apologize?" Hardy spat out the words.

"Too late for that. What I need from you is to calm the fuck down. You've been raging through this office since we got the call about the girls and frankly people are terrified."

"That's nothing new. They are always terrified," Hardy interrupted.

"No, Alec, this time it's different."

"Don't call me Alec!" he snapped at his boss.

"Ach, get over it. Don't distract. You've been on edge ever since you stepped foot into the office yesterday. I don't know if it's the case or home, or both, but if you can't keep it together, I'll put you back to doing paperwork, just like I did last week."

Baxter's voice was calm and composed. Hardy's hazel eyes pierced through him, but he didn't even blink. He was used to his DI's temper and knew, if he could channel the passion behind it the right way, he was a brilliant detective.

Hardy held his gaze and after a few deep breaths, he slumped back into his chair, reason starting to reign in his overflowing feelings. Baxter was right, if he wasn't able to focus on the case and to put emotions aside, he shouldn't be the SIO. He nodded with his mouth slightly open.

Baxter stood up. He had accomplished what he had come to do. "Good man. And if you need to talk, you know where to find me. Control it, but don't just shove it away, right?" He closed the door before Hardy could answer.

Right. Hardy had his doubts about how successful he could be with the latter.

His phone buzzed and reminded him that it was time to take his medication.

Splendid. He grabbed it, turned off the alarm and tossed the phone on the desk, seriously annoyed with life. He gagged down the pills as he didn't have any water. Elbows propped up on the desk, he let his head slowly slip through his hands, fingers combing through his thick auburn hair until his forehead rested on the desk, his hands laced together at the nape of his neck. He stared at his feet for a while. Eventually he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

When Hardy left his office to go question the Gillespie parents, he outwardly appeared more composed than he had since they received the call about the girls. Inside though, the storm was still raging.

Hardy took DS Dave Thompson with him as he felt trepidation about being alone with Tess in the car. He was weaving in and out of traffic, surely not keeping to the speed limit. Once or twice he noted Thompson flinch over a close call.

Great. He couldn't wait for that story to be shared as the latest office gossip. DI Hardy violating all traffic laws. Thompson surely would make some witty joke out of it, as he always did, very much to Tess' and the other's amusement.

They made it there in one piece and Hardy had to suppress a smirk, when Thompson seemed relieved about getting out of the car. The SOCO van was parked in front of the driveway and people were filtering in and out of the house. Hardy and Thompson flashed their ID badges and walked in. They found Cate, the mother of one of the missing girls slumped on a kitchen chair huddling over a glass of wine.

Pippa Gillespie was twelve, the younger one of the two. Lisa Newbery, her nineteen year old cousin had been babysitting while the Gillespie parents were out to attend a friend's wedding. Hardy quickly shoved away any thought of Daisy and him dancing at a wedding the same night these girls had disappeared.

He pulled over a chair and sat down in front of her. He tried to make eye contact, but she was just blankly staring at her drink. Her fingers absentmindedly trailed the rim of the glass.

"Mrs. Gillespie, I'm DI Alec Hardy. We met yesterday, if you remember. We would like to ask you a few more questions, if that's alright with you?" His voice was soft.

"Please call me Cate." She looked up, eyes watery and red. Hardy swallowed. He had talked to many relatives of victims throughout his career, but never the mother of a missing child, and certainly not since he had become a father himself.

He took out his notebook and squinted at his scribble. "You said yesterday that the front door was locked when you and your husband came home in the morning. Is that correct?"

She nodded.

"What… what about the door to the terrace?" He looked out the window into the small back yard.

She hesitated for a moment, trying to recall. She frowned. "I don't think so. But I didn't check the garden first, Ricky did. You should ask him."

Hardy shot a brief glance to his DS. He saw him take notes. Thompson was a decent detective, lacking a little in attention to detail at times and not always the quickest to catch on to the moods of people he was talking to. He made up for that with his charming and pleasant manner which often invited people to talk of their own accord. He was reliable and Hardy was content having him by his side, if it couldn't be Tess.

"Tell me a little bit more about Pippa. What are the things she likes to do, who does she spend time with?" Hardy was putting all effort in not using the past tense, he could feel himself slip. They had no reason to believe that the girls were not alive anymore. No yet, but time was ticking away.

Cate took a sip of her wine. "She has a lot of friends. Always on the go. Sports, ballet, violin lessons. She needs her own taxi service that girl. Just glad that Lee is helping us out with driving her around."

"Lee?" Hardy questioned.

"Oh, Lee Ashworth, our neighbor. He and his wife Claire rent the other half of the house from us. Pippa is rather fond of him. Likes hanging out with both of them as matter of fact."

Hardy made a mental note to find the neighbors and talk to them after they talked to the father, Ricky Gillespie.

On a whim he asked, "Do they have a key to your house, your neighbors?"

Cate gave him a puzzled look. "Why do you ask that?"

"Just to be thorough. So, do they? Have a key, I mean?" He wasn't letting go of that question.

"Yes, they do." Hardy could have sworn there was the slightest hesitation in her voice. He looked at Dave who was oblivious. Hardy sighed inwardly, he wished he'd taken Tess after all.

"Cate, can you think of anyone who would want to harm Pippa? Or Lisa? Please think before you answer, it's important." Hardy knew they had already asked that question before but she had been so upset the day before that she barely was coherent. He wondered how much better off she was today, considering the half empty bottle of wine sitting behind her on the kitchen counter.

She shook her head, eyes blank.

"How about you or your husband?"

Again, she shook her head, holding on to her glass. Hardy sensed she was drifting away and he decided it was time to find the father or the neighbors. He stood up.

"Thank you, Cate. If we have more questions or any news we'll be in touch." He pulled out his card of his pocket and placed it on the table next to the now empty glass. "If you think of anything, please don't hesitate to call, anytime." He nodded encouragingly.

When he was already in the doorway, her broken voice stopped him. "Please, find my little girl."

Hardy's stomach clenched and his heart missed a couple of beats. He could feel a tugging in his chest and he absentmindedly rubbed the ball of his hand over his sternum. He took in a deep breath.

"I promise, we will." He couldn't look her in the eyes, frightened that he wouldn't be able to keep his word, or at least not in the sense she meant it.

The neighbors were not in. They would have to come back to talk to them. Maybe he would send Tess to do it. They were about to go back to the station when Ricky Gillespie came home. Hardy saw him talk to one of the SOCO members who pointed in their direction. Even from this far away he could tell that the man was wearing an angry scowl.

Great. Hardy was expecting to get yelled at by the irate father. He couldn't even blame him. Who knows what he would do, if his child was missing? Better not go there.

"Are you DI Hardy?" Ricky Gillespie's tone was already challenging, just asking for his name. Hardy braced himself for the worst, reminding himself not to get impatient with the man.

"That would be me." They hadn't met on the day before. Tess had questioned him while he was talking to the mother.

"Why are you bothering my wife instead of looking for my daughter?" Ricky's blue eyes glared at him. He was stocky and a bit shorter than Hardy. His posture was seeking confrontation.

Hardy frowned at him. "'M sorry?" He was confused as to why Ricky wouldn't understand why they had to talk to the mother of one of the victims.

"You heard me. Why are you harassing my wife, instead of getting out there and looking for my child?" Ricky stepped up closer, a little too close for Hardy's comfort but he didn't move.

"Mr. Gillespie, I assure you we have all of our staff on the case, actively looking for Pippa and Lisa. It's also part of the investigation to gather as much information as possible. Anything could be helpful at this point," Hardy said calmly.

Ricky eased up. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and smiled awkwardly at Hardy. "Sorry. Didn't want to be rude."

Liar, you sure wanted to, Hardy thought to himself.

"Do you have any news then?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Gillespie. We are reviewing all CCTV and asking around on the estate, but nobody has seen anything." Hardy wasn't big on sharing too much information with the families of victims until it was clear they were not involved in the case.

"Call me Ricky, mate."

Hardy frowned at the familiarity, but let it go. "I would like to clarify something with you, if possible. Do you remember if the door to the terrace was locked or not when you came home yesterday?"

Ricky didn't hesitate. "No, it wasn't. But it rarely is. It's a safe neighborhood, you know."

They both stared at each other for a moment, realizing what Ricky just had said until the other man looked down, face pale. Hardy's heart was heavy. As a father himself, it was hard not to feel for him, even if he didn't care for his bully like demeanor.

"Your wife mentioned that Pippa likes to spend time with your neighbors…" Hardy consulted his notebook. "… Lee and Claire Ashworth. Is that your impression as well?"

Ricky's head snapped up. "Why do you wanna know? Do you think they have something to do with this?"

Hardy didn't let on that he was surprised about the quick connection that Ricky made between his neighbors and the disappearance of the girls.

"Just trying to be thorough, looking into who Pippa spends time with, that's all." His tone was neutral.

Ricky gave him a sideways glance and another of those awkward smiles. "Pippa fancies Claire, they do each other's hair. Claire's a hair dresser and Pippa has taking a liking to it. I reckon she also likes Lee enough to hang out with them. They sometimes help us with driving her around. The girl needs her own chauffeur service." Ricky smiled genuinely this time at the thought of his daughter. His eyes were sad though.

It broke Hardy's heart. He recognized himself talking about Daisy and his attempts at professional detachment were seriously challenged. He hoped to hide his emotions from his face, but it was too late.

Ricky squinted his eyes at him, tilting his head slightly. "You married?"

Hardy nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Do you have children?" Ricky asked quietly.

He cleared his throat. "A daughter, almost thirteen years old." His Scottish accent was thick with the barely hidden emotion.

Ricky looked him straight in the eyes. "As a father, can you promise me you will find who is responsible for this?"

"Aye," was all that Hardy could get out.

Ricky nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. "That's all I needed to hear, mate." And he walked inside the house.

Hardy's breathing was rugged. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hiding the tremble. A few moments later he had composed himself enough to drive back to the police station.

Yet again, he gave Thompson enough gossip material for at least half a dozen more tea breaks. He was pleased to notice that his DS was a little pale around the nose when he climbed out of the car.

Wuss, Hardy thought while grinning to himself. He snorted. He would never give up driving, whatever the doctors told him. It was just too enjoyable. He felt guilty that he had missed his appointment with Dr. Abbott, but she would understand, wouldn't she? He briefly contemplated sending her a text message but didn't want to invade her privacy. He was going to reschedule as soon as the direction of this case would be clearer.

The elevator took its sweet time, testing Hardy's patience. He was smart enough to resist the temptation of the unnecessary exertion of climbing up the three flights. At least this time. Walking back to his office he noted Thompson updating Tess about their interviews. He slowed down, trying to decide, if he should talk to her or not. Professionalism won over pride and he lingered at her desk until Thompson disappeared.

"I need you to talk to the neighbors, Lee and Claire Ashworth. The mother and father both say Pippa likes spending time with them. And they have a key to the house. I want you to go first before I go."

Tess nodded. "Looking for inconsistencies? I can be there in the afternoon. I'll have SOCO give me a shout when they're back. You'll go tomorrow then?" It was his turn to nod.

He was relieved that she had left their personal issues at home and was working with him as seamlessly as ever. She was a good detective, strong intuition and thorough. Her only flaw might have been a tendency to be too sure of herself and her reasoning skills. He took a brief look around, nobody was paying attention to them.

"Tess, about the other night…"

She cut him off immediately. "Not here, not now. Alec." She was right, they shouldn't bring their marital issues to work, but he couldn't help himself but feel that she was using it as an excuse to not have to talk.

"Do you want to have lunch together?" he suggested.

"Since when do you eat lunch when it's crunch time in a case?" She looked bewildered.

"I told you I am planning on taking better care of myself. Besides I have a deal with Daisy not to skip meals. And I already didn't do breakfast. Please, love, just come and have lunch with me?" His eyes grew wide with his plea.

"I already had food. Sorry, Alec. I need to get this done before talking to these neighbors." She turned back to her computer screen, leaving him out in the cold. He stood there for a moment and then spun his body around, storming off in frustration. He never ate lunch that day.

After typing up his notes from interviewing the Gillespies, he tacked a big map of the Sandbrook area to his office wall. They had an official one outside next to the case whiteboard, but he preferred to have his own. He meticulously drew in the parents' movements the day before the girls disappeared. Nothing struck him as unusual.

He then carefully shaded the areas they had searched so far and in another color the areas for which they had reviewed CCTV footage. He wasn't sure, if he should feel good or bad about the fact that they already had covered a large amount of Sandbrook and its surroundings.

At some point he noted that Tess had left, presumably to talk to the Gillespie neighbors. Thompson was gone as well and he wondered, if Tess had taken him with her. He spent the rest of the day reviewing CCTV and sifting through phone calls until his frustration grew too much to handle.

He grabbed his coat from the hook and swung it on in one swift motion. He hurried out of the office, intending on walking off his restlessness. By the time he reached the end of the block, he had to slow down. He cursed while panting for air. He padded down his pockets to make sure he had his pills with him only to realize he didn't. All he could do was to take in a few deep breaths and the moment passed. He continued his walk, this time with more measured strides. It wasn't doing anything to ease the tension.

His phone buzzed and he fished it out of his coat pocket.

It was Baxter. "Hardy, did you go home yet?"

Already annoyed, Hardy barked into the phone. "No, just going for a walk. Why?"

"They want a press statement, this evening. You better get ready for that. I'll drive, meet you at 6 o'clock then." Baxter hung up the phone before Hardy could even protest.

"Ach, for fuck's sake," Hardy muttered under his breath. He hated dealing with the press. There was never anything good to come from those bloody journalists who descended upon human tragedy like vultures on a carcass. And it was going to make him miss dinner with Daisy. Again.

When he got back to the office, he had just about enough time to splash some water in his face, slick back his hair and change into a fresh shirt. He rubbed his hands over his chin, unhappy with the day's stubbles. He washed down his pills with water from the sink. He caught his reflection out of the corner of his eyes. He didn't look as haggard as he had these past weeks, but still, there was a tired look that he wished he'd rather not be aware off. He stared in the mirror, reassuring himself of the confidence in his eyes that he needed to stand his ground with the journalists.

The press conference was held at Sandbrook Juniors school hall. There was a table with chairs placed in front of the South Mercia Police insignia. Children sized chairs were lined up in front. To Hardy's relief the turn out wasn't as big as he'd fear it would be. A few members of the community had found their way into the school hall and perched uncomfortably on the too small chairs. He recognized a local pastor, some teachers and a few business owners. The journalists huddled together in the back. There were only a handful and two photographers. No TV cameras for now. After all, it was only two missing teenaged girls, nothing juicer yet. God, how he despised the press.

He found his spot behind the sign with his name. His boss was already seated, only raising an eyebrow for Hardy's just in time appearance. Baxter did the obligatory introductions, identifying Hardy as the senior investigating officer. He had been through this moment countless times in the last nine or so years since Baxter had made him DI, but it still made him feel uncomfortable on every new instance. And this case was worse than others. The location alone was setting him off. Hardy wanted to twist the balls of the person who had had the idiotic idea to hold the press briefing in a school instead of the police station. What were they thinking, that this was appropriate because it was about missing children?

Baxter kicked him under the table and gave him a glare. He had missed his clue.

Bollocks. He had no idea what his boss had just said and it showed in his face. Baxter gracefully managed to pick up where he had left.

"As I just mentioned we have all hands on deck searching for the two girls, Pippa Gillespie and Lisa Newbery. DI Hardy can fill you in on some more details." Only knowing him so well made Hardy realize how annoyed his superior was. He would have to pay for that mishap later.

"We are actively searching the greater Sandbrook area for the two missing girls. CCTV is being reviewed thoroughly. We would ask the public to submit any recordings from private security cameras, if they think it will be helpful to the investigation. Also, if anyone thinks they have seen Pippa or Lisa or someone resembling them, they should come forward please and contact the South Mercia Police force."

Unease made his Scottish accent more prominent as if to mock his self-consciousness. After giving a detailed description of the two girls and where they had been seen last, he paused. He preferred not to give out too much information. He ignored the fact that he actually didn't have any to share.

Hardy blinked when several flash lights of the cameras went off. Time for the vultures to feast. He couldn't wait for them to descend upon him. Ignoring better judgment, he defiantly decided that his fast heart rate had nothing to do with his 'condition' but only his anticipation of what was to come.

A woman with dark brown hair in a tight burgundy dress stood up. "Karen White, Daily Herald. Is there any indication that the victims may not be alive anymore?"

Christ, that was fast. Hardy forced himself not to shift on his chair and to keep his expression level. A knot was forming in his stomach and his already too fast heart chose this moment to pick up the pace.

He put more confidence in his voice than he actually felt. "No. At this point we have no reason to believe that any physical harm has been done to the children besides the fact that they are missing from their home."

She didn't relent. "Isn't it true though, in cases with missing children, the chances of finding them alive rapidly decline after the first 24 hours after their disappearance?"

Hardy was screaming inside. Why would anyone want to parade that in front of the parents of these girls? He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let it out before answering. He could tell from her expression it didn't go unnoticed. No use in denying the facts.

"Correct. That's what the statistics show. However, every missing person case is different and we can't comment until we find those two girls." He hoped that would shut her up. It didn't.

"So, are you telling us until you actually find their bodies you won't conduct a proper investigation and just go on a search mission?" Her sarcasm was scathing.

For God's sake, what was it with this woman?

His body tensed up and he balled his hands to fists. Baxter was shifting in his chair next to him, exuding trepidation about how his DI would handle this preposterous implication.

"I assure you, the team at South Mercia Police is approaching the situation with every caution they should. A thorough search is being conducted, while we are investigating evidence and following leads as appropriate. There is no reason to fear monger the public, and especially not the families of the missing girls. I want to make one thing absolutely clear to you and the rest of the press. Interference with this investigation from the media is not going to be tolerated. If you want to help the families then spread the word and pictures of Pippa and Lisa, but no rumors or lies. That would be all."

Hardy had to give her credit for not giving way to his piercing glare. She raised her eye brow, shrugged and sat down. He studied her face and recognized the same fervent disgust his features had shown when thinking about the press, but he was sure hers was directed at him and the rest of the police force. And for once, he would make sure to remember her name as it was certain she'd come back to hunt him down.

When the press had filtered out of the room, Baxter held Hardy back.

"A word, Hardy?"

Hardy rolled his eyes. "What now? I know I screwed up and spaced out. Sorry. Won't happen again."

"True to that. But that's not it. Be careful with that Karen White person. I've heard of her. She is not very police friendly."

"Oi, didn't take me long to figure that out." Hardy pinched the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted, and all he wanted was to go home and sleep, not discuss bloody journalists and the need to tiptoe around them. He swayed a little with a sudden bout of light-headedness and had to lean against the wall. He couldn't stop himself from moaning quietly.

Baxter frowned at him. "You alright there?"

"'M fine." He closed his eyes. He wasn't even sure anymore, if this was his heart, emotional fatigue, lack of sleep or sheer hunger causing this weakness.

"Did you sleep last night?" Baxter inquired sternly.

When Hardy shook his head, he followed with, "And I assume you didn't eat anything today?"

Hardy opened his eyes and gave him a blank stare, vision turning fuzzy. He blinked a few times, breathing heavy.

"Blimey, you look like you're going to fall over any moment. I'm taking you to dinner, right now. Don't ask me why I made you SIO. Can't even be trusted with actually feeding yourself."

It took Hardy all his will power to win the battle with his body and not to pass out in front of his boss. He followed him slowly to the car. Luckily Baxter had driven to the school as Hardy would not have trusted himself behind the wheel. He rested his head on the car window and closed his eyes. He was jolted awake by the door opening.

"Come on, Hardy. Let's get some food into you. Your Scottish ancestors would cringe at your skinny arse, you need some meat on your bones." Baxter was holding the door open and Hardy could have sworn he moved towards helping him out of the car, but just about stopped himself.

Bloody hell, so much for being stealthy about his health issues. This performance sure wasn't going to win him any awards.

After they had ordered food, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. He debated for a moment whether he should take his extra medication or not and opted to do so as a precaution. He cupped some water from the sink and swallowed the chalky pills. Once again he stared at his face in the mirror. Much to his dismay the haggard look had returned. Frustrated with his treasonous body, he slapped his palms onto the sink. It took a few minutes to compose himself enough to go back to the table.

Baxter gave him an inquisitive look but didn't say anything. They ate in amicable silence. Hardy had to force down his chicken and mashed potatoes. Baxter didn't want to hear anything about salad – "I'm not going to pay for rabbit food" – and had ordered a 'real' meal for him instead. Admittedly, he did feel better after having finished.

"Thanks for dinner." They were walking back to the car. Baxter padded him on the shoulder.

"Don't mention it. Promise to eat something tomorrow, ey? No more starvin' Hardy, didn't like that image." There was true concern in Baxter's voice and Hardy felt guilty for letting his friend down.

"'M sorry. Won't happen again," he mumbled under his breath.

"No need to apologize, just take better care of yourself, please, Alec."

Hardy nodded silently when he climbed into the car. Self-preservation never had been his strength and he wasn't sure, if he had it in him to change that.

Baxter dropped him off at the police station. It was late. When Hardy reached his car, he realized he had forgotten his keys on his desk. With a tired groan he turned around and dragged himself back to his office. He was so exhausted he barely could keep his eyes open during the elevator ride. The sofa tempted him to just sit down for a moment and he never left until he was woken up by the cleaning staff in the wee hours of the next morning.