A/N: I own nothing and please forgive all of my mistakes. We are almost at the end of Part One. Thanks for your continual support.

Twenty-four

Caller reported his wife has been missing for twenty months.

And is starting to get worried.

—LIMA CITY POLICE BLOTTER

Their fake deputy didn't fall for any of their traps. After they'd locked down urgent care for over three hours as officers searched the place from top to bottom, they did not find a trace of him or Ashlyn. So, they expanded their search, bringing in the helicopter and search and rescue dogs to comb the area directly behind the urgent care center.

Once they'd lifted the lockdown, Cedes' parents took Gina home, she got Mike Bowen's number from her father and texted him, asking if Ricky could go stay with them. Mostly to sit by Gina's side, to comfort her like he did after she saw the news broadcast. It was a lot to put on a teenage boy, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The surveillance video clearly showed the fake deputy—they continued to call him Abrams because they still didn't have an ID on the guy—going into the room pushing a cart and leaving a few minutes later, so whatever he'd given the girls was fast-acting.

They hadn't blocked the roads quickly enough. He could be well on his way to Seattle by that point. Or Vegas or LA or even Mexico.

But she also agreed with Gina. Abrams wanted Debbie Caswell to suffer. He wanted her to pay for giving him up for adoption. That could be his only motivation.

"Wait," Cedes said. They were still in the urgent care center, and Jay was reviewing the footage in the security room when something caught Cedes' eye. "Go back."

Jay rewound the video. "This is when he goes into the room."

"Yeah, but look at that cart. That's not big enough to fit Ashlyn."

"You're right," Jay said. No way he put her in there. Does that mean—?"

"She's been here the whole time?"

Jay, Hunter, and Cedes exchanged glances before taking off toward the recovery room they'd had Ashlyn in. They were able to go straight through because all the officers were out of the building, searching other areas and canvassing the county.

They opened every door and searched every corner of the room, but while they saw no signs of Ashlyn, they did find a lot of stuffing folded inside sheets, metal springs, and levers.

"What the hell is this?" Jay asked, but Cedes and Hunter immediately looked at the recliner by the window. It was a hospital chair that folded out to a bed should someone need to stay overnight with a patient.

The closer they got to it they noticed a little circle of blood around the back of it. Hunter knelt down and lifted the chair gently to peek under. Then he turned it completely over.

"She's gone." He sighed in frustration.

But Jay was looking at what was left of the inner parts of the chair. A lock of hair had gotten tangled in the reclining mechanism, and Abrams had pulled it out of her head when he took her from out of the space he created in the chair to hide her. "She was here the entire time. He took her while we were looking at the footage once the lockdown was lifted."

This did not happen," Cedes said being delusional. She would happily be delulu if it meant that Ashlyn did not have to pay for their mistakes.

"Thank you for all of your help." Cedes ended the call she'd made on the way back to the sheriff's office, she'd investigated Artie Abrams to see why Schuester had hired him. And the fraud posing as him had come with such exceptional recommendations.

Even though he was hired before she was sworn in as sheriff, she'd read his file while looking for a possible mole who was working with Schuester and Cooter Menkins. Having spoken to real Artie Abrams who their fake deputy had assumed the identity of, she realized why he had chosen this particular officer to emulate. They both were the same height, same eye color, same build, and the same weight. Artie Abrams had been surprised when Lima Springs did an inquiry on him when he hadn't applied there but thought no more about it.

Cedes wanted to know how the former sheriff didn't catch that. Then again, maybe he did. According to her investigation into Schuester, the guy was a certifiable crooked hot mess.

Agent Campion was using the FBI's resources to try to find out who'd adopted Debbie Caswell's baby, so they could at least get an ID and possible history. But that wasn't going to help them now.

Since the gig was clearly up, they plastered his face all over the news and social media, along with a new Amber Alert, and a hotline just for tips on his location.

And that was where they were when Cedes walked into the sheriff's department. McCarthy gestured toward the holding cell in the deputy's room. The one in which one Sam Menkins currently was locked in.

"He's very angry," he said.

And then Cedes understood why he said that. A crash echoed throughout the area, shaking the walls and knocking dust off the ceiling.

"What the hell is he doing?" She ran to the holding cell and opened the solid outer door.

Sam stood in all his angry glory behind a set of bars, his expression unreadable except for the fact that his green irises had caught fire. Metaphorically speaking.

She did not need this right now. "What the hell are you doing, Menkins?"

"Open the door and find it, Porter."

"Hell naw to the naw naw naw." She sang.

"Where is she? Did you find her? Is she okay?"

Cedes' delusional state finally completed evaporated. "We're still looking for her."

Before she even finished the sentence, he kicked the bars so hard she was afraid he'd broken them. The crash made everyone around them jump, and she realized his hands were cuffed behind his back.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet. His tone lethal. "Open. The damn door now."

"Why?" she asked, "do you know something we don't?"

"I can track her and find her."

"Sure."

"I've done it before. It's what I do."

"I know, Sam. I know you do. You found Stevie, and we wouldn't have found Ashlyn the first time without you, but this time is different. We don't even know what area to focus on."

"The first time?" he asked as though confused. "Ashlyn is missing again?"

"Yes. Who did you think we were talking about?"

He stepped back and sat on the cot. "I thought it was Gina. Oh my God."

"Why would you think that?"

He leaned back against the wall. "I heard her name, and I heard that she was drugged, and I heard a girl was missing."

Why did he feel so close to her daughter that he was trying to break out of jail to find her. Why did the fact that he cared that much for her daughter give her such an incredible sense of pride and gratitude?

"I can still help. You know I can." He still cared even if it wasn't his nephew or Gina missing.

"We need to narrow down the search area first."

He sighed, leaned his head back again, and closed his eyes.

"If I open this, are you going to behave?"

"Probably not."

At least he was honest. "I'm coming in. And I'm going to uncuff you, but you have to be nice and stop trying to tear down my department."

He looked at her. "Aren't you supposed to do that through the cage?"

She opened the barred door. "Yes."

He stood when she walked in, but he didn't turn around. Not allowed to have anything in the cell beyond his clothing, he wore only a T-shirt that molded to his the biceps on his amazing arms like paint, a pair of jeans that fit comfortably, and socks.

And he was looking at her as though he were starved, and she was made of chocolate and whipped cream.

"You'll have to turn around if you want the cuffs off."

"Please, let me help you find her."

"If I need your help, I'll come back."

With deliberate slowness, he turned and let her unlock the cuffs. They'd dug into his skin, leaving grooves in his wrists, and she tamped down the surge of anger that jolted through her.

Her team showed up after she locked her prisoner back in his cell, and they studied a map, scouring the area for ideas while Sam stood with his head at the bars and watched.

"There are too many empty cabins this time of year," she said. "We can't possibly check them all before tomorrow."

"Who says he'll wait until the sun comes up?" Hunter asked. "Legally, she turns fifteen at midnight."

He was right. It would be careless of them to assume he would wait a second longer than his warped brain told him he needed to.

"Wait," McCarthy said. "What about the land she was first found on? The owner is all alone out there since her husband died, and Abrams did take Ashlyn to their well house. Maybe he knows her or knows she's vulnerable."

"Someone get out there ASAP," Cedes said. "Recon only."

Hunter snapped, pointed at his twin, and headed for the door. "We're on it!"

Jay followed him, and Cedes looked up at Mason McCarthy, the young deputy with a caring disposition, that deep concern for the well-being of others, was why the man was on her team. Every law enforcement agency in the world needed someone with a sense of empathy.

"It won't take them long to get to there," she said. "In the meantime, what else do we know about this guy? You've spent the last six months getting to know him."

McCarthy's expression became strained. "He was that guy, Sheriff. The one who's impossible to get to know. He never really talked about his life. He never went out for drinks after a shift. We thought maybe he was into weed or something because he wouldn't go out for drinks when he was off duty. We didn't even know where he was lived."

"And after a while," Dani said, walking up and handing Cedes a cup of coffee, "we quit asking him questions about himself."

McCarthy looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, his guilt so evident.

"Deputy," Cedes said, "no one saw this coming. This is not your fault."

"It kind of is," he said, twisting his hands. When Cedes raised a brow, he explained. "I was the one who vetted him for Schuester."

"Yeah, well, I vetted him, too when I got here. I vetted all of you. He slipped through all our fingers."

The man nodded, then steeled himself. "We checked his house again a few minutes ago. No sign of him or any dogs."

"And you never saw him with anyone? No friends or hookups?"

Both of them shook their heads. He was probably too busy stalking the Caswell family. Cedes was a little surprised no one in their household had noticed him. But that was the thing about the man pretending to be Abrams. He was so very ordinary. So easily dismissed.

Jay called in, and she put her on speakerphone.

"Hey, boss." Her voice sounded sad, and adrenaline shot through Cedes' body. "I didn't want this over the radio."

"No," she whispered.

"I'm sorry. He's definitely been here. The owner, Mrs. Sosnowski is dead."

"Mrs. Sosnowski?" For some reason, she turned to Sam, and he stiffened.

"It looks like he's been staying here for a few days. He must've wanted to keep an eye on Ashlyn while he had her in the well house."

She studied Sam. His solid jaw. His full mouth. His presence was comforting. "If he was staying at her residence, why go to the well house from the opposite direction?"

"To throw us off," both Sam and Jay answered simultaneously.

"Just in case," Sam added.

"Well, it certainly worked. He's not there now?"

"No," Hunter said. "But his patrol unit is, and it's still warm. There are some tracks beside the house, but hell if I know how old they are. Either way, looks like we just missed him."

"And it's getting dark," Jay said. "We need to get on this. We need Menkins."

Sam grabbed a rifle from the back of Cedes' cruiser. He started to take off, but he turned, grabbed the lapel of her parka, and pulled her close. With his mouth barely inches from hers, he said, "Keep your head down, and try to keep up."

He didn't wait. He took off at a dead run, following the tracks left in the snow, as the rest of the team did indeed try to keep up. Cedes, Hunter, and Jay ran through the snow and brush as darkness crept in around them, and while Cedes lost any sight of tracks a half mile back, Sam kept going at a breakneck speed.

Then, without warning, he slowed his pace so they could catch up. Their breaths fogged in the air, the altitude making breathing even harder. He knelt and held up a fist, signaling for them to stop.

They gathered around him and took a knee. "We're closing the distance. We need to strategize."

"Why?" Cedes gasped for air. "We need to catch up to them. That's a good strategy."

"No, we need to take the high ground." He looked at Jay and then at her rifle, a rifle she carried like a newborn in her arms. "How good are you with that?"

"Very."

"See this?" He pointed to a disturbance in the snow. "He was dragging her before. Now he's carrying her, so I don't know if she passed out or if he's caught on to the fact that we're behind him and has picked up the pace. He's going for that hunting cabin over there. He must've been scoping out this area for months to know it's there. We can't let him get to it."

"Why?" Hunter asked. "Besides the obvious."

"The obvious being the fact that any cover is good for him and bad for us. That cabin has no windows at all. He'll force a stalemate and kill her before we can even get close."

Cedes nodded in understanding. "We need to get to that cabin before he does."

One corner of his mouth lifted, just barely, as he studied her. "Remember how you used to run from my family?"

"Sam," she said, still panting, "that was a long time and a hundred pounds ago."

When he only stared at her, apparently giving her a minute to come to the same conclusion he had, she caved.

"Fine. We'll go around this ridge and get to the cabin while you two"—she looked at Jay and Hunter—"come in from behind." She leveled a hard look on Jay. "If you get the shot, you take it. He went to a lot of trouble to get to Ashlyn. He will not hesitate to kill her. His sole purpose at this moment is to make his biological mother pay." She pointed to Jay. "Sniper." Then to Hunter. "Spotter." Then she took hold of Jay's shoulder and gazed directly into her eyes. "If you have to shoot him in the fucking back, you take the shot."

Jay nodded just as Sam grabbed Cedes' arm, lifted her to her feet, and took off. And she thought he'd taken off at a dead run before. He flew through the trees, and it took everything in her power to keep him in her sights.

The snow and altitude made the last mile feel like a hundred. She'd lost feeling in her legs a while back, but it didn't make them any lighter.

Still, they were so close, her adrenaline kicked in. Then he stopped and pointed down the mountain. A cabin, barely visible in the moonlight, sat to the side of a small clearing.

Thanking God for the full moon, she fought to fill her burning lungs and slow her pulse. She looked at Sam as he studied the area.

"Don't," he said, his voice hoarse.

She frowned and followed his gaze to the clearing. "Don't what?"

He reached out and pulled her close. She stumbled against him and put her palms on his chest for balance.

The fog of their breaths mingled as he looked down at her. As he ran a gloved thumb over her mouth. As he bent closer, his gaze locked onto hers like a predator. "We have to get down this mountain, and we have to do it fast."

"Okay."

"And if you keep looking at me like I'm some kind of hero, you're going to be very disappointed in the long run."

"I don't think so."

He held her chin as if to memorize every feature on her face, then asked, "Ready?"

She could only nod because he had stolen her ability to speak, but leave it to Hunter to interrupt the moment. They could hear his voice asking, "Are you guys making out?"

They were using a short-range in-ear comm set. She gritted her teeth. "What part of radio silence—"

"We have eyes and are looking right at you," he said.

They both turned and looked at the clearing. Abrams was just emerging from a tree line, heading for the cabin.

"Damn it to hell," Sam said, and he pulled Cedes down the mountain.

They half ran and half fell. Sliding through huge drifts of snow, they landed on the side opposite of Abrams and Ashlyn. She could only pray he didn't see them.

"She's unable to get a shot," he said, peeking around the side of a stack of firewood.

She looked around him. "Any ideas on how to get this asshole, then?," she asked.

"You're the brains," Sam said. "I'm the brawn."

"We have to get her away from him first."

"No shit Sherlock."

She drew in a deep breath, her stomach raw from all the acid pumping into it. "I have an idea. Jay, be ready."

"Always," she said, her voice already in the zone, as she centered the crosshairs on her mark, slowing her pulse.

Cedes explained her plan, then said, "He's got to be exhausted. I'll get her away from him. You just make sure he doesn't make it into the cabin with her if I fail."

"Em, you never fail," Sam said.

She looked at him again.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispered as Abrams got closer.

The smaller man was groaning, straining against the weight of Ashlyn and the resistance of the snow at his feet now that the burst of adrenaline he had earlier had probably worn off.

They realized the girl was awake because they could hear her cries.

"Sam," she whispered.

He reached back and took her gloved hand into his.

"If I do fail, will you take care of her?"

They both knew she wasn't talking about Ashlyn.

It took him a long moment to answer. When he finally did, he echoed Jay's words when he said, "Always."

She nodded and went behind the stack of wood as Sam went onto the porch of the cabin from the back and slunk around to the front to head Abrams off.

Abrams started to take the first step when she realized he was carrying a hunting knife in one hand, and she almost lost her nerve. He could do so much damage to Ashlyn in such a short amount of time with that knife, but she had no choice.

She made herself visible just as his foot landed on the first of the steps. That was Sam's cue, and he played his part beautifully.

"Can I ask what you're doing here?"

The plan was to make Abrams think Sam owned the cabin and was in home.

Not expecting company, Abrams stumbled back in surprise. It was the opening she needed. She rushed him from the side, grabbed hold of Ashlyn, and pulled with every ounce of strength she had.

At the same time, Sam shot off the porch and, while Cedes did succeed in getting Ashlyn away from him, she also succeeded in allowing him to get a grip on her instead.

Before Sam could get to them, in a quick move Abrams had his arms around her and the knife at her throat. A knife that had a blade that was longer than her forearm.

"Get the hell back!" he gave Sam a warning glare as he dragged her backward.

Sam slid to a stop a few feet from them and raised his hands.

"I will cut her throat so fast she won't even know it until she sees her blood spraying onto your face."

"Abrams," she said, her voice calm.

He was beginning to unravel. All his plans spoiled.

"My plans would have worked if that idiot Schuester had won the freaking election," he said. "Oh, my God, that man was so stupid."

"Will you tell me your real name?"

"Why, Sheriff Porter? Do you want to be my friend to the end?"

"If you want me to be."

"Yeah, well, you can cut that cop talk right now. How did you figure it out?" He kept moving with her, turning her as he scanned the distance as though he knew Jay was out there trying to get a kill shot.

"Your hairline is exactly the same as Debbie and Ashlyn Caswell's."

The injury he had had forced him to wash his hair before applying his touch up and because of his injury he had brushed his hair back instead of letting it fall forward, and she could see the red hair growing in at the roots in a widow peak and how it was exactly like the female Caswells. It's usually inherited.

He pulled her around again. "No kidding?"

"Ashlyn didn't do anything to deserve any of this."

"Where is she?" he asked, spinning her around as he looked at the trees again.

"Who?"

"Jay!" he yelled into the quiet night. "I know you're out there, gorgeous. Let me see your beautiful face or Cedes dies."

"Jay's not here. We didn't have time to wait for her."

He hugged her to him, his mouth at her ear. "You know, Gina and I have a lot in common."

"Yeah?"

"I was a surprise to my mother when she was a teenager as well."

"Really?"

"Only my mother sold me away. Of course, the minute my adoptive mother got little me, she got pregnant and suddenly I didn't matter anymore when their baby boy was born ten months later. They had their dream kid who looked like them and wasn't a ginger. I was no longer wanted or loved. Do you know what they did to me?"

"No, I don't why don't you tell me?"

"They took me to meet her when I was fifteen." He laughed, the sound disgruntled in the quiet night air. "I stood on the doorstep to this . . . mansion and rang the doorbell while my parents stayed in the car. And Deborah Caswell answered the door, her redheaded daughter at her heels. I told her who I was." He squeezed her tighter as the memories washed over him. "I begged her to take me in, but she said I had the wrong house. Told me to never come back and closed the door in my face while my adoptive parents laughed."

Cedes felt the sting of the knife nicking her a second before she felt a warm drop of blood slide down her neck. He was getting more unstable by the second. She needed to change the subject. "The deputies at the sheriff's office said you've been a great cop."

He humored her. "Are you offering to give me my job back?"

"I think you still have a lot to offer the world."

"Where are you, Jay?" he shouted, completely ignoring Cedes.

She heard Jay's voice in her ear. "Can you fall down?"

Sam gave the barest shake of his head, but she nodded. If she could get a hand underneath the blade, she could drop to the ground and give Jay the shot.

Sam glowered at her showing his anger, but she ignored him. Closing her eyes, she offered up a prayer to God and counted off with her fingers out of range of his vision. But before she fall to her knees, Abrams fell to his and took her with him, hugging her to his chest, his chin on her shoulder, his mouth at her ear.

"No cheating." His breaths came in shallow gasps as adrenaline coursed through him.

"I'm not going anywhere."

He pulled her even closer, his grip like a vise around her ribs. "How about we both go out together, like Thelma and Louise? Except I will take you out, and then Jay will kill me, and everything will be right with the world."

"As long as Ashlyn is okay. I am fine with that"

He burst out laughing. "Oh, she's dead, beautiful. If not, then she will be very soon."

Cedes stiffened and glanced at the unconscious girl in the snow. "What do you mean?"

"She kept fighting me. I got pissed off and gave her all the GHB. I've been told I have anger issues. Still, I did want to cut her up and leave her in little pieces on mommy dearest's porch, just like she left me."

"You don't know how hard that was for Debbie to do."

He was rocking Cedes now in his arms, making peace with whatever demons possessed him, preparing to die. Question was, would he take her with him?

Jay came back on. "A couple of inches to your right, in five . . ."

"I'm sorry it's come to this, Abrams."

". . . four . . ."

He looked at her from over her shoulder, tears shimmering in his eyes, and whispered his real name. "My name is Brett."

". . .three."

She turned to him, tilted her head to the left, and put the tips of her gloved fingers on his jaw. "Brett."

". . .two."

"You can always give up and drop the knife."

"...one."

Blood exploded across her face so quickly she almost fainted from the pressure. Brett's head shattered before she even heard the shot.

Sam quickly dove for the knife before Brett's muscles could tighten in reflex and cut her throat. Something she hadn't even thought of. He held on to the blade until Brett's muscles realized his brain was no longer in control.

It was barely a second. Maybe two. But it seemed like an eternity until he went limp and fell to the side. Cedes ran to check on Ashlyn. Jay and Hunter also ran toward them as Cedes and Sam checked the girl to see if she was alive.

Her body was still warm and she was able to breathe barely.

The medics arrived in a helicopter and stabilized her enough to fly her to the hospital.

The cabin, which was normally accessible by road, had been cut off due to the blizzard earlier that week. If not for small miracles, Brett could have just driven Ashlyn there and killed her before they even got to them.

Clearly, someone was watching out for Ashlyn. She wondered if it was God who had probably given her the premonition in the first place.

After the helicopter took off, another one landed, blowing ice-cold bursts of snow around them. They would secure the scene and take Brett's body to the crime lab.

About thirty minutes later, everyone else had arrived. The engines of several emergency ATVs roared in the clearing to deal with the crime scene and dead body. Cedes had been busy organizing the emergency personnel after a medic had cleansed Brett's remains from her face, and now she had to decide what to do with Sam Menkins.

She looked over at him as he leaned against the porch rails of the cabin. He'd saved a life tonight. Possibly two. But he'd also confessed to killing his uncle.

His eyes were always on her when she looked in his direction. This time when she caught his eyes, he started walking as if he were taking a leisurely stroll in the park, he put one hand in his pocket, tipped an invisible hat with the other hand, and then disappeared into the darkness surrounding him like he belonged to it.

She decided to let him go.

For now.