'Can I get you anything, luv?' Nigel asked, setting Alexis gently down. He had carried her up to her room (against her protests), and set her gently down on the plush mattress.

'You can let me do things for myself,' Alexis replied, laughing dimly.

'Not a chance,' he replied. 'Can I get you anything?' He covered her with a blanket, and tucked her in.

She looked him over, rolled her eyes, and said, 'Can you stop obsessing?'

'Not a chance.' He sat down on the bedside table, and brushed her hair away from her eyes. 'Listen. You want to be in tip top condition when you go see Jessica again, don't you?'

'… I suppose so…'

'Well then, you'll have to get better. And quick. And the best way to do that is to eat something, and then go to sleep. So: what would you like?'

She sighed, and said, 'Chicken soup. And crackers?'

'Alright.' He grinned enormously at her, and said, 'If it's chicken soup you want, it's chicken soup you will have. I'll be back in an hour. There's a lovely restaurant twenty minutes from here that makes the best chicken soup you'll've ever tasted.'

'Is that a promise?' Alexis snuggled down deeper under the blanket

'Yeah. You stay. Sleep. I'll be back soon.' He kissed her forehead, and left her, her eyes drifting closed as she watched him go.

When he came up to her door an hour later, carrying a medium sized tupperware of steamy soup, Nigel could hear the television tuned to the local news. Rolling his eyes, he tried the handle. It opened.

The moment he was over the threshold, he knew something was wrong.

The comforter was trailing on the floor of the living room. Pillows were sliding off the couch, and a bagel was left half-eaten on a plate.

'Alexis? Alexis! Are you here?' he called, striding farther into the room. 'Oh, god, no,' he gasped, seeing a small amount of blood on the edge of the coffee table. He pulled out his cell phone and dialled the morgue. After three rings, Jordan answered the phone.

'Cavanaugh.' She sounded exhausted.

'Jordan – it's Nigel.'

'Nigel – what's up? I was asleep.' Nigel heard someone snoring lightly in the background. 'This better be good.'

'I need to call in those hundred and one favours, Jordan. Alexis's missing.'

'What do you mean, missing?'

'I mean gone! Not at her hotel. And there's blood on the coffee table, and the room's a mess.' Nigel started heading to the back room, where the bed was. The suit she had been wearing when he tucked her in was strewn on the floor, and her suitcase was sitting open on the bed.

Nigel heard muttering in the background, and Woody's voice rang out, clearly irked at being woken. 'Look, Nigel, we're at the morgue – we'll be there soon.'

'No, look, Woody's been though enough this week, Jordan, it's okay,' Nigel said, and heard Jordan relating his message to Woody, 'but I need help, and a kit, and –'

'Nigel, Nigel, we're coming. Which hotel?'

After hanging up, Nigel went though Alexis's hotel room and looked to see what she might be wearing, or if she might have anything on her. As he went though her luggage, he couldn't find a pair of pyjamas – she must have changed after he left. Going though her purse, he found makeup, a PDA, and earphones, but no cell phone. Hopefully she had that with her. He could track it.

'Nigel?' He heard Jordan's voice call from the main room, and he ran to meet her. 'Nige! There you are!'

'Jordan, thank goodness. Woody, hi.'

'What happened, Nige? Did you find anything?' Woody asked, walking father into the room, and spotting the disarray.

'Well I looked though her clothing, there're no pyjamas. She must have changed and moved into the living room after I left. Hopefully she kept her phone by her or something: it's not here. If she managed to grab it, I can trace it.'

'This place is pretty swank,' Woody commented, looking around. 'There are probably cameras all over.'

'I was going to check the security cameras when you got here, but I wanted to make sure they would give them to me – or, rather, a cop?'

'I'll go talk to the security guard on duty. I'll be back in a minute.' Woody left Nigel and Jordan alone.

'Quite a week, huh?' Jordan asked, walking over to the coffee table and setting down her bag.

'I can't believe it. Who would do this?' Nigel strode over and pulled a pair of gloves out of the case.

'Who knew she was here?'

'Jessica's father sent her down… her company knew, as well… of course, she had to pull a few political strings to be a part of the investigation. And Jessica obviously knows she's here, but she's under surveillance at the hospital.' After a moment of silent scraping, he said, 'Listen, Jordan, I'm sorry I had to pull you and Woody away, but-'

'Don't mention it, Nige. Just think of it as my showing of gratitude for years of putting your butt on the line for me. What about downtown? Who saw you?'

'This one bartender was being a real jerk to her – asking where I got her from, like I had bought her. And the waitress who told us Jessica would be back on Monday. And a guy who might've been Jessica's pimp…' He swallowed deeply, and cried, 'We have to find her, Jordan.'

'We will, Nige. Don't worry.'

'Guys, we struck gold with the video tapes,' Woody said, bounding into the room. 'They're all in hi def, recorded on DVD. All hallways, all doors, including service entrances, and all elevators and staircases.'

'Man, they take security seriously, don't they?' Jordan remarked as she picked a short red hair from the couch. 'Alexis's a brunette last time I checked, right Nigel?'

Thinking of the feel of her soft hair between his fingers, he replied, 'Yeah. And it's quite a bit longer. I'll bring it back to the morgue along with those tapes. See if I can match it to anyone.' He paused, and said quickly, 'Thanks, you guys.'

As he handed Nigel the disks, Woody told him, 'Go save her, Nige.'

'What are you doing back here?' Kate barked at him as he walked into the lab.

'Hello to you too,' he replied shortly, sitting in front of the computer and loading the security footage.

'Well you're in a good mood.'

'Not that I didn't have a nice time with you the other night, but I've got a bit of an emergency on my hands, and I'd appreciate it if you either help, or get out. Alright?' he snapped, looking up her cell phone provider.

'Wow, happy go lucky has a temper.'

'I'm not kidding, Dr Switzer, please, just go away.'

'I believe you gave me another option,' she told him, 'what can I do to help?'

Nigel froze over the keyboard, and turned round to face her. 'What?'

'How – can – I – help?'

'Since when are you helpful?'

'Since you look like me on sugar. What can I do to help?'

Looking her over, Nigel said slowly, 'Well, there's a hair that's processing – it needs to be matched to someone… and a blood sample that I haven't gotten to yet…'

'Consider them done.'

'Why?'

'Because I know why you're doing it. And I'm not about to let a girl die because you got my car stolen.'

'Why does this happen to me?' Nigel asked himself as he hacked into the Telus service. He was trying to find her cell phone on their network. If he could find the signal, he could find out if she had her cell phone on her.

She had to be out there somewhere.

She just had to.