A/N: Thanks everyone for reading and commenting. The latter part of this chapter was the first thing I wrote for this story and has been in my head forever… I'm more than excited that it finally is time to share it with all of you. Alec goes to the river…

CHAPTER 2

Hardy wasn't sure why Tess brought him a set of clothes to change, maybe as a peace offering, maybe it was her way to apologize, but regardless he was grateful for it. He felt energized after taking a shower and shaving. He even was in halfway good spirits when leading the morning briefing.

The good mood didn't last for long though. The DC he had yelled at the day before – what the bloody hell was her name again? – did a more solid job in reporting on the house to house inquiries and he made a point of saying so. However, the information was useless nonetheless. Nobody had seen anything that could shed light on what might have happened to the girls. The time spent on reviewing CCTV footage was rewarded with no yield. Hardy tapped the dry erase marker impatiently on his leg.

"So, what about forensics? Have we looked through both houses yet? Pippa's room? And Lisa's? What about any personal things such as a diary? School friends? A boyfriend maybe? And what about the neighbors?" Hardy rattled down the questions at lightning speed until he caught Tess' look on her face. She was rolling her eyes at him.

Bollocks. He had done it again, hadn't he? It wasn't only his body that tended to get restless during a case, his mind was just as bad. He had a tendency to turn over rows of questions in his head at a fast pace, making connections and bouncing ideas around, a stream of thoughts that in the end often led to the final item that needed to be answered. When his words followed suit he often left his colleagues behind. Tess was one of the few who wasn't lost, one of the reasons why they worked so well together.

He looked at her, shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly. She grinned knowing she had caught him with his pants down. A sudden flash of heat in his pelvis made him very aware of the fact that he shouldn't imagine himself undressed in front of his wife, especially not while the whole team was staring at him intently. He dropped his gaze, looking away from the object of his desire. He turned around quickly to write down a few of the questions. Only his burning red ears were a dead giveaway of his embarrassment.

"Go on then. Back to what you're supposed to be doing." He usually barked the words, but today it sounded rather tame.

Tess walked by him, brushing by his ear. "I know what you were thinking, Alec Hardy. And it certainly had nothing to do with the case." He knew, if she had touched him right there and then, he would have dragged her to his office and shagged her on the desk, and if his heart had given out on him he would have gladly accepted the fact, blissfully so. But she didn't. She walked away without even giving him another glance.

Hardy was idly staring at the computer screen. It had been almost 48 hours now that the girls disappeared. His heart was sinking. As despicable as that White woman was, she had one thing right though. The chances of finding these teenagers alive were getting slimmer by the hour. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. His neck was stiff from sleeping on the sofa. At least this morning he had had a bite to eat, not wanting to repeat the prior day's mistakes.

There was a knock at the door and he knew who it was without even looking.

"Daisy wanted you to have your lunch box. She says she doesn't trust you not skipping meals." Tess placed the small cooler in front of him together with a cup of tea. She must have noted the uncertain look on his face.

"It's decaf, Alec. I brought some of the stuff from home." His head jerked up, giving her a surprised look. She was sorry about the other night then.

"Are you coming home tonight? Daisy would like that."

"And you? Would you like that too?" He had to ask. He looked up at her, his eyes growing wide with the anticipation of the answer.

"Don't be daft, Alec. What kind of question is that?" There was an annoyed look on her face. Hardy wasn't reassured, but he was more than willing to let it go.

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk, grabbing the lunch box. He peeked inside and found one of Daisy's notes and his favorite scone from the bakery next to their house.

'Turkey and provolone sandwich. You better eat it. Miss you, Dad.'

He ran his hands over his face. "Does she know? About the girls?"

Tess and he had an unspoken agreement about telling Daisy things from work. They usually only let Daisy know whatever the public was privy to. Not for the first time, Hardy wished he could still make his daughter believe he was catching bad guys who stole money from the ice cream shop. She had found out a long time ago what gruesome job her parents really had.

Tess sighed. "Yes, she does. She is pretty shaken that one of the girls is her age."

Hardy grew tense. "They don't know each other, do they? They're not in the same school."

"No. I asked her. But still, she's scared. She says a lot of kids are." Tess' voice was strained.

"God, that's awful." Hardy's clenched his hands into tight fists, while taking in some rough breaths through his nose.

"We've got to find them, Tess." He raised his head and their eyes met. His worry they might be too late was mirrored in her blue eyes. She nodded silently.

He leaned back in his chair, scratching his eyebrow, forcefully expelling air out of his lungs. He blinked a couple of times, ridding himself of the disconcerting image of Daisy being scared.

All business now, he stood up and moved towards the map on his office wall. "What about the neighbors? Did you get to talk to them?"

"I did. They were home all night, together. They were quick to point that out. Didn't hear or see anything though. Bit odd, don't you think? If the girls were abducted, one would think there should be some noise. The walls are thin in those town houses." Doubt was lacing Tess voice.

"Hm, dunno. There are no signs of a fight or forceful entry gained to the house." He scoffed, exasperation taking over.

"It doesn't make any sense, Tess. No signs of violence but why would they sneak out just like that? And why, if they did run away haven't we found any trace of them yet? Or did they know who they went with? What about Lisa's phone? Have we traced that yet? How about her cash machine card?"

Tess stepped up next to him, close but not too close. "Last withdrawal with the card was at 3:54 pm, presumably before she went to babysit. Still triangulating the phone. Last call was made to her mother, at 5:17 pm that day."

"Lisa's mother? Have we finally spoken to her?" Hands on his hips, Hardy was pacing up and down in his small office like an animal trapped in his cage.

"Dave spoke to her last night, while we were driving over to the Ashworths. He says she was appropriately upset, distressed over the fact that she can't be back in town until Thursday. Nothing much else." Tess' gaze followed him with raised eyebrows. "Christ, Alec. Quit running around in here. You're making me all fidgety."

He abruptly halted his restless behavior. "Sorry. Helps me think, you know."

"I know it helps you, but it drives everyone else up the wall." Tess gave him that look that she reserved for lecturing him about human interaction. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and he looked away. She had the uncanny talent to make him feel like a school boy being called out in front of the class for something utterly daft he just said.

He leaned against his desk, tapping his fingers on the edges. There was something nagging him. Breaking the awkward silence, he picked up on something she had said earlier. "You said they were quick to point out they were together all night. Why would they do that? Why would they be so specific about it? Why not just say they were home? Why emphasize they were together?"

Tess was lost only for the briefest of moments. "You're talking about the neighbors?"

He nodded, his mouth open, peering at her over the rim of his glasses.

"You know, it was a bit off the way they put it. It was the guy, Lee, who pointed it out. The woman then quickly confirmed it." She scrunched up her nose. Hardy tilted his head, knowing that she was about to say something important.

"There was something off about them. They seemed on edge, more than you'd expect for someone talking to the police. Especially him, she was composed enough, but he was… don't know, can't put my finger on it. Are you going to talk to them today?" Tess face lit up with excitement, maybe they had something to work with.

"Aye. I'm planning for the afternoon, think they might be at work before then." Noting the time, he pushed himself off his desk and grabbed his jacket, putting it on in one big swoop. He was already out the door, leaving her behind, when he called back, "Going to see the profiler. Wanna come with?"

He smiled when she followed him. Whatever else was going on between them, they still made a bloody good team of detectives.

Hardy's excitement didn't last long. Meeting with the profiler proofed to be a rather useless endeavor. Nothing fit together or made sense. The girls were so different in age, it was two of them, very different physical appearance. Adding the slim forensic evidence didn't help to get anywhere near a possible perpetrator. He was quickly back to the feeling he had in the morning, that things didn't add up and that they were missing something. He hoped it wasn't a dead body.

He made a point of leaving the office to sit in the nearby park for lunch. He wolfed down the sandwich and eyed the scone skeptically. It was his favorite and he so much wanted to eat it, but he wasn't sure if the buttery pastry qualified as healthy food.

Bolllocks. He could afford one guilty pleasure, couldn't he? He bit into the scone defiantly and finished it to the last crumb. He needed to clear his head and walk off some of the restlessness. Sleep and food seemed to have done the trick, and his body didn't protest at the fast pace. He felt like a daredevil after he climbed up the stairs to the third floor with only feeling a little winded, terrifying his colleagues in the main CID office with the wide grin on his face.

He gathered up Thompson to go back to the Gillespie's house to talk to the neighbors. Thompson insisted on taking his own car this time.

"Not approving of your boss' driving then, ey? Thought you looked a little pale around the nose yesterday." Hardy didn't even try to hide his smirk. His DS had the grace to look embarrassed, but still didn't budge. And when they finally got there, Hardy could feel the dagger like glare on his back when he walked away from the car. Maybe he shouldn't have commented on how long it took them to get there, but then why not?

SOCO had retreated from the Gillespie's house for now. The forensics team was working on analyzing the prints and specimen for DNA testing. Hardy hoped he would get some preliminary results later that day. The Ashworths were not home and Hardy's patience was running out. They seemed to be the only lead they had, and after his conversation with Tess he really itched to talk to them. He made Thompson find out their mobile numbers and call them, only to reach their voice mails. Hardy was ready to throw something at someone. He kicked a few pebbles instead, not as nearly as satisfied with the release.

"I'm driving." He snatched the car keys from a flabbergasted and mortified Thompson and without another word climbed into his DS' SUV. It only took them half the time to get back to the station. Which was probably a good thing, because Thompson looked like he was going to have a stroke any moment.

"Nice ride. A little slow in the transmission though." Hardy tossed the keys at a gray-faced Thompson, a content smile on his face. He walked up all the stairs and had a cup of real tea to celebrate his small victory over life.

Hardy ended up leaving late that night after reviewing all the preliminary forensics reports over and over again. The prints they had found so far matched the Gillespie parents, and what hey presumed to be Pippa's and Lisa's. There were two other common sets. Hardy wondered, if they might belong to the neighbors. They would have to get elimination prints, if they could ever get a hold of them. He tossed down the file folder, echoing his earlier frustration with not being able to talk to them. It would have to wait until tomorrow. He had all intention on trying to get some sleep at home that night. No more folding up on the sofa in his office. He also needed to pick up more of his medication.

When he got home, Tess and Daisy were already in bed. He popped his head into his daughter's room, needing to see her there, sound and safe, for the first time since they had received the shout almost three days ago now. Images of Pippa Gillespie were trying to claw their way into his consciousness. He shook them off. He carefully walked up to Daisy's bed and tugged the blanket tighter around her. She moved in her sleep, her mouth slightly open, long hair flowing all over the pillow. He pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead and brushed her hand.

Tess was sound asleep, breathing noisily like she did when she was exhausted. He sat down on his side of the bed, peeling of his clothes. They still hadn't really talked since their argument a couple of nights ago, despite her peace offerings today at work. He yearned for the warmth and comfort of her body but he still felt oddly uncomfortable at the idea of sleeping next to her. He decided to go for a shower instead. He took his things to the guest bathroom downstairs as he didn't want to wake anyone.

After he was done, he was yet again restlessly pacing up and down in the living room. Every hour that passed made it less likely for the two girls to be alive. 'Please find my little girl' – the distraught mother's words echoed through his memory. He shoved his own terror and fear about losing his daughter deep down in his mind. He couldn't let himself get distracted by the fact that Pippa and Daisy were the same age, so similar both with long brown hair, tall and pretty.

He hadn't noticed that he was panting, needing to catch his breath until a tugging in his chest reminded him of his dodgy heart. He walked over to the kitchen to get some water. He fished the blister pack out from his jacket pocket that he had tossed over a chair. He leaned against the counter and swallowed the two chalky pills. After a few minutes he felt better.

Christ, he couldn't afford his body not cooperating during a case like this.

There was no sleep for him and so he trekked back to the station. Might as well take another look at the CCTV footage. The CID office was deserted in the wee hours of the morning. He fast forwarded through all the hours of tape with no movements on them, slowing down where people were captured.

Frustrated with the uselessness of the task, he forcefully pushed his chair back. It hit the filing cabinet with a loud clank. He let out an exasperated groan under his breath and took up his usual route of pacing through the main CID office. His long steps took him past Tess' and Thompson's work area, along the rows of desks around to Baxter's office and then back again. He stopped briefly to make a cup of tea, getting even more wound up as there was no decaf. He didn't dare to repeat his earlier dare of drinking regular tea, admitting to himself that it had affected his heart rate almost immediately.

Bollocks. How was he going to get through this without any caffeine?

He reached back to his office and slumped down on the sofa. He was tired and could have used some sleep, but his thoughts were racing. He closed his eyes and lined up the people they had encountered so far.

There was Pippa's mother – Cate Gillespie, at the end of her emotional rope, drunk when they met her for the first time, never sobered up since then it seemed. House to house interviews seemed to support an alcohol problem.

Then there was Pippa's father – Ricky Gillespie, angry and belligerent with the police right from the start. He had been questioning their every move, while pretending to be protective about his wife. Hardy judged him to be a player but then his first impression might be wrong.

Both seemed appropriately upset and clearly concerned. The house was owned by the Gillespies', one half being rented to the elusive neighbors, Claire and Lee Ashworth. Hardy needed to meet them, not willing to let go of Tess' unease around them upon first questioning. He had learned over time to trust Tess' gut feelings, especially when they were negative.

He also had not met the mother of Lisa Newberry. She was out of town and had no means to come back earlier than Thursday. He hoped he would be able to give the woman good news, but truth be told, it was more likely to be bad, if things continued like they had.

There were no signs of a break in at the house or around. The front door had been locked when the Gillespies came home, however the door to the terrace wasn't. SOCO so far had not turned up with anything useful. His eyes drifted to his wall where a map of the Sandbrook area was pinned to the plaster. He had marked which locations they had already combed through. His gaze fixed on the river. They hadn't gone there yet. He propped himself up, eagerness in his movement. This was where he would take his team first thing in the morning.

With a plan of action in his head, some of the tension fell off of him and he plopped back onto the sofa. He closed his eyes and began to drift off. The pictures of the two girls were drifting through his mind and eventually he was asleep, long legs dangling from one end, his head stuck in an uncomfortable bend on the other.

Hardy got woken up by the sound of his first team members arriving in CID. He groaned when he rolled of the sofa. His neck was throbbing with pain and he rubbed it to ease the tension. He then dragged his hands over his face and through his hair. He stood up and straighten his shirt and tie. He slipped on the blue suit jacket. He figured he was representable enough to step outside and discuss his plan with his CS.

He skipped breakfast in favor of a large decaf tea with extra milk from the cart outside the police station. He washed down his pills before going back inside. He had felt reasonably well the prior day after taking better care of himself. He wanted to believe that this and the medications were working just fine and he ignored the nagging feeling of guilt about not making it to the appointment with Dr. Abbott, his cardiologist.

His patience was wearing thin while waiting for the elevator. Reason lost and he walked up the three flights. By the time he reached the second flight he knew that this time it had been a mistake, but he was too stubborn to give up. Heart hammering in his chest, he waited to catch his breath before opening the door to the hallway. To his surprise, his heart beat quieted down quicker than he would have expected.

He knocked at Baxter's door for formalities sake, but barged in without waiting for a reply.

"Hardy, always nice to see you respecting my privacy." Baxter glared at him.

Hardy rolled his eyes at his boss. "There is no privacy, it's an illusion. You've heard of the internet, haven't you?"

"Aren't we all philosophical this morning, ey? What got into you then?"

Baxter eyed him from over the rim of his glasses. There was a springiness in Hardy's movements which paired with his usual restlessness when working on a case was hard to take. He was all but pacing up and down in front of Baxter's desk, hands firmly placed on his lean hips, brushing back his suit jacket. It made Baxter feel antsy just to look at him.

"The river. I want to do a fingertip search in the area. It's the only place we haven't been looking at yet, one of the few places where there is no CCTV whatsoever. They've got to be somewhere."

Baxter squinted his eyes at his DI. He was skeptical, Hardy could tell.

"Please, sir. We're running out of time. For all we know we might have already." Hardy voiced what they were all fearing. It had been almost 72 hours now since the two girls had been reported missing.

Baxter gave in. "Fine. Take as many people as you need but leave some here to deal with phone calls and the rest of the busy work."

His boss had barely finished his sentence when Hardy already had left his office, shouting at people to get his team together. They were in the woods at the river in less than an hour.

The grounds under the tall trees next to the river were covered in bluebells. The SOCO team descended upon them, ignoring all beauty of nature. Soon enough a thorough search of the riverbanks was underway.

Hardy was scrutinizing every move of his team until he couldn't hold back any longer. He barked some orders at various DCs whose names he already had forgotten and stalked off on his own, in the opposite direction the team was moving along the river.

He ploughed through the layers of bluebells. His strides were long and surprisingly aimless. He let himself be guided by his meandering thoughts and his eyes trailing the river. He was hoping to find reassurance that the girls were still alive, however deep inside him he knew they were most likely already too late and the nature of this search was way more morbid than they all wanted to admit.

As soon as he was out of eye sight from the rest of the team it started raining. The drops went from soft and drizzly to heavy and pounding in no time. Hardy was drenched within minutes. He didn't care. His hair was plastered to his head and his black coat was hanging heavy of his lanky figure. He marched on, ignoring any physical ailments, just savoring the feeling of water running down his head and face.

The river was quickly swelling with the down pour. The drops hit the water, leaving hundreds and hundreds of small craters on the surface. The sound of rain drumming on leaves was mixing with the rippling noises of the rain coming down on the river. The water was gushing up the bank.

Hardy had to slow down, his heart protesting the fast pace. He walked up closer to the edge. His breath hitched when his trailing eyes caught sight of something. He blinked away the rain and stared across the water. It was a body, small, like a child, facing down, floating in the rain beaten stream.

He froze for the briefest of moments, then without giving it any further thought he slid down the bank, into the river. He needed to get to her, the irrational hope of it maybe not being too late burning in his mind. The cold water gripped him immediately, the strong current tugging and pulling on him. He had underestimated the depth and could feel his footing disappear from underneath him. He struggled to keep afloat, making his way towards the body.

When he felt his heart skip some beats, followed by a disturbing emptiness in his chest, he realized the fatal mistake he had made. He couldn't tell, if the blurry vision was from the water crushing over his head or his heart losing the battle against the strain it was put under. Everything around him was turning upside down, his body being pulled under, water crushing into his lungs. He gasped for air and more water rushed down his throat. Gray mixed with green and brown and he couldn't tell where the surface was. His limbs were flailing in a desperate attempt to escape this death trap. The pain in his chest was excruciating, draining any energy he would have maybe had left to struggle his way to safety.

Black was closing in on him and the empty feeling in his chest was growing with his heart beat fading. In one last attempt to get back to the surface, he kicked his legs and found ground to stand on. He pushed himself up with all that he had left and got his head above the water. He coughed and gagged out some water. He still couldn't get any air into his lungs and the pain was getting worse and worse. His heart stuttered and he could feel every thundering beat it was taking, struggling along. He wretched up some foul tasting water and finally was able to take a breath. And another, and another. The pain eased up just enough for him to realize that something was bumping against his back.

He turned around and the dead swollen face of Pippa Gillespie stared at him. If he had had enough air in his lungs, he would have screamed. But all that came out of his mouth was a whimper. He grabbed the body and dragged her towards the river bank. When it became shallower, he picked her up and carried her. Her limp figure was heavy in his arms, her long extremities dangling. The river water that was running down from the dead child mixed with the rain. It was dripping down his chest and arms and although it was cold, he felt it burning his hands were it touched his skin.

His breathing was rugged and everything was spinning around him, but he took one step after the other until he reached the river bank. He all but shoved her up the incline and then hauled himself out of the water. He was kneeling next to her, shaking from exhaustion and the cold that had taken hold over his body. His heart beat was still erratic but at least it was beating. There was a rasping sound every time he took a breath. He slid to the ground, lying next to this child, who had been in the river for several days, left to rot by somebody who wasn't human. The anger that was boiling inside him kept him from passing out until he finally heard voices coming closer.

He tried to sit up but couldn't. Hands pulled him up, voices frantically trying to get him to answer their questions. He had no breath to talk. He was shaky on his legs and someone steadied him while they walked him back to where the vehicles were parked. He barely made it, tripping and falling down. In the end they more or less carried him, his arms slung over their shoulders. They pulled of his wet coat and suit jacket and wrapped him in a silver thermo blanket. He barely was able to speak when he called Thompson to let him know they found the body. When the ambulance arrived he didn't protest when they put him on a stretcher and wheeled him off.