Chapter Text
At Oz's Apartment
Daphne stood before Oz's apartment door, softly knocking first, then more firmly. Nothing. She frowned, shifted her weight, and knocked again. "Oz? It's me. Open up. We're all worried about you. Hey, mate, open up." Silence lingered, and Daphne started to knock once more.
"Miss, can I help you? Who are you?" the old lady from next door looked concerned at Daphne. "Sorry, Ma'ma. I am a colleague of Oz's. He called me earlier, but he is not picking up now. I was hoping to catch him at home. Have you seen him recently?"
The old lady took a step into the hallway. "Oh my my. No, I haven't seen him since he left for work. But I heard someone coming from his apartment or the one next door, I'm not sure. Pretzels barked, but I never saw anyone. When I opened the door, the hallway was empty." Daphne just nodded and thanked her.
When the neighbour returned to her apartment, she pulled out her phone and dialled his number. The line clicked once, and a flat, automated voice filled her ear: "This number is not connected." Her stomach dropped. "Fuck. How?" That wasn't possible. She had spoken to him only hours ago. What the hell happened in the last few hours?
Daphne shoved the phone back into her pocket and jogged down the stairwell, forcing herself not to panic. Still, she was angry and a bit scared for him. It wasn't like him to be missing when they had a big case. Also, the last time she spoke to him, he seemed different. That could have had something to do with his disappearance. Arriving in the parking lot, she scanned the rows of cars, her eyes instinctively searching for the old sedan Oz swore he'd drive until it fell apart. Nothing. No sign of it. Where the hell was he? Her pulse quickened. She leaned against her car, breathing slowly before fumbling her phone again and calling the precinct. They need to find him ASAP.
"This is Detective Forrester. I need a trace on Detective Ozdil's vehicle or his phone. Now. He is not at his home or the station. We are right in the middle of a big case."
There is a pause, and then the dispatcher's voice: "Copy that. Stand by… His phone is disconnected. The last place was near the precinct. Let me see if I can locate his car. Do you know if he has an external GPS device?"
Oh shit. Where the bloody hell is he? Yes, he bought a new one last month. He registered it. Soto should have it on file. We thought having all the information in one place would be good." Daphne ran her hand nervously through her hair. "Let's see. Yes, you're right. Soto provided the information. Yes… Location pinged. His car hasn't moved in about 2 hours. It's still parked outside that pub you logged earlier tonight." The dispatcher gave her the exact location. After hanging up, Daphne swore under her breath. 'What the hell happened tonight?' She called to say she was following up on a lead on the Oz location. Engine growling, she pulled out of the lot and swung the wheel toward the city centre. Whatever had happened to Oz, it had started at that pub.
At the bar
When Daphne pulled into the half-empty lot, the bar's neon sign still hummed faintly in the distance. Her headlights swept over cracked asphalt, trash tumbling in the breeze. Then she spotted it, Oz's car parked crookedly near the edge, the driver's side window fogged faintly from within.
Her chest tightened. She turned off the engine, grabbed her flashlight, and approached, hoping he was just drunk at the pub. But she knew he would never be so unprofessional as to get drunk on the job, especially when they had to protect Adam and Morgan from a serial killer they were currently trying to lure out.
"Oz?" she called softly, tapping the glass. Nothing.
She yanked the door handle. Unlocked. The beam of her torch swept across the interior and froze on Oz, slumped against the steering wheel. She pressed her fingers into his neck to check for a pulse. Exhaling, she felt a weak pulse and saw his chest rise and fall. But his breaths were irregular, a sheen of sweat across his temple. He looked rough, like he was drugged. Lifeless.
"Jesus, Oz." Daphne went around the front and slid into the passenger seat, shaking his shoulder. "Hey. Oz, wake up. Wake up. I need you to wake and talk to me." She pinched his arm to get a reaction. When nothing happened, she started to rub his sternum. Suddenly, he stirred with a low groan, eyelids fluttering before they cracked open in panic. His gaze darted wildly, unfocused, until it landed on her. His breath came out heavy and wet.
"D-Daphne? Where am I? Why d…." A coughing fit interrupted him. His voice was hoarse, cracked. He tried to sit upright, but his limbs trembled. His coughing was getting even worse. Panicked Daphne looked for a water bottle; she was sure Oz had it in his car. Opening the glove compartment, she pulled out a new bottle and opened it for him to take a sip. He grabbed the bottle desperately and took a big gulp.
"You're alright, you're with me. You were passed out in your car in front of the bar you met Adam in earlier," she said firmly, bracing him by the arm. "Can you remember what happened? Who did this to you?"
His breath came shallow, ragged, but the cough was gone. "I-I don't know. Adam left, and I paid for everything, then came out the bar's back exit. I heard someone shuffling behind me, and then someone struck me. Everything went black. I came to me when I felt someone pulling me across something wet. When I woke up, he was leaning over me. He thought I was out cold. Then my head hit the road when he pulled me over a pothole, and I was out cold again until you woke me up."
Daphne's stomach twisted. "Shit. Did you see his face?"
Oz shook his head violently, squeezing his eyes shut as if replaying it. "No. But I heard him. His voice. He said…" He swallowed, throat working. "He said, 'Hopefully the other two are back home. Ready to be visited.' I have definitely heard his voice before, but I cannot quite pinpoint where."
The words landed like ice water, both freezing in the car's stillness. "Adam and Morgan," Daphne whispered, the implication slamming into her.
Oz nodded, trembling harder now. "I thought—god, I thought it was Eli Tenner. It had to be him. But I don't know. I can't be sure. Let's go to see Morgan and Adam."
"No, no, you need a hospital. Morgan and Adam called me, worried about you. And someone was already in their house. A unit is already on its way. You need to focus on your health," Daphne pressed, already reaching for her phone.
"No!" Oz shoved her hand weakly, desperation flashing across his face. "No hospitals. No time. You call Soto. You take me to them. He's already moving. We need to help them. Gather evidence." He shook his head, forcing himself upright though his body sagged against the seat. We don't have an hour to waste in the ER. I will be fine. Just give me some Advil, and I will be fine."
Daphne clenched her jaw, torn between duty and instinct. One look at his pale face and stubborn eyes convinced her. Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car, told him not to move, and went to get her car.
Swearing, she parked her car next to his, exited the vehicle and opened the passenger door. Moving to his driver's side, she announced, "Alright, let's get you into my car and call forensics to take a look at your car. Maybe they can recover some evidence. Now move your legs outside. I will help you get up, but don't puke. Please." Nodding, Oz turned in his seat, pushed up from the seat, and stumbled into Daphne's arms, who caught him. "Wait, wait, everything is spinning. Let me … breathe." Slowly, they moved him into Daphne's car.
Getting in, she shoved the car into gear, wheels squealing as they pulled out of the lot. "Fine, if you feel sick, tell me immediately. Understood?" she muttered, waiting for Oz's response, who grunted. Can you call Soto while I drive? Don't worry; I will talk; you focus on not passing out again or puking." Oz closed his eyes, breathing unevenly, every muscle taut with fear. "Just get us there, Daph. Please."
The car was soon filled with ringing. Soto picked up after a few seconds. "Talk to me, Daphne. I heard you were looking for Oz. Have you found him?" Soto's voice was laced with concern. "Yes, I have. He is right next to me. Found him knocked out in his car. He was unconscious when I arrived, but he is talking now." "Hey, Lieutenant, I am fine, no worries. I was hit on the back of the head when I exited the bar. Daphne woke me up. I heard the Unsub, but I couldn't make out his face. He said that Morgan and Adam are next. Or at least I think that is what he meant. H-he … Daphne, pull over!"
Surprised, Daphne swerved and stopped the car. Almost immediately, Oz opened the door and dry heaved. Rubbing his back, she tried to calm him down. "Breath, you are alright. Just let it out." Soto, on the other end, was calling Daphne's name. "Sorry, boss, Oz is just feeling … unwell. Give me a second." Oz pulled himself back up and took a deep breath. "All good. Let's continue."
"Oz, are you feeling okay? Should I call an ambulance? And hold on, didn't Oz say he heard the Unsub say Adam and Morgan were next? You think he already got to them?" Soto offered, but Oz declined. Daphne continued, "Yes, I think so. Soto, Morgan and Adam called me earlier. Told me you weren't picking up, and Oz was sounding weird. They came back home, and someone had gone through their things. Morgan sounded so afraid. I told them I would try to find Oz and dispatched a unit to their house. Forensic is alerted to Oz's car, Morgan's, and Adam's homes. I hope they are safe. We will be there in twenty. You wanne join us?" "What? I never received a call from them, but weirdly, their phones weren't working either. You think something's up with their service? But how could the call you?" "I am not sure. But we will find out.", Daphne promised. "Alright, guys. I will call Malon and meet you at Morgan and Adam's."
The night had settled into a suffocating quiet when Daphne's car screeched to a halt outside Adam and Morgan's house. Malon and Soto were already standing in the driveway with their phones clutched. Soto's face was pale under the porch light, and Malon's face was too dark to see. By the time their car came to a halt, both of them were looking frantically around. The yard and house behind her were lit up.
"Their car is still in the driveway, and the lights are on," Daphne called to Oz as she jumped out. As Oz exited the car, he had to lean on the door for support, but soon caught his balance. He tried to keep up with Daphne's brisk pace, but his leg was sore, and his limp got worse with every step. Getting closer to their Lieutenant, the porch light made Soto look even more exhausted.
As Oz arrived next to Daphne, he heard her say, "… you knocked?"
Soto shook her head, jaw tight. "Yes… No answer. I tried calling them. Neither of them picked up. And the feed," she gestured toward the house. The cameras went black almost fifteen minutes ago." Malon nodded, a long, stern, angry look on his face.
A chill swept over Oz. "That's not possible. We hardwired half of them…. The only way he could disarm them was from the inside, from their laptop. Oh nooo. What if he already got to them? Daphne, didn't Morgan say the house was tossed?" Daphne nodded. Oz's voice was rough but urgent. "He's been inside. He knew exactly what to cut. He found their evidence."
The four of them didn't waste another word. Guns drawn, they approached the front door. Malon took out the spare key from her pocket, inserted it into the lock, and motioned for Soto, Daphne, and Oz to move and Oz to hang back. He turned the key, and the door sprang wide open. All three of them moved slowly inside but stopped immediately. Oz trailed slowly behind but stopped with an instant shiver. The Foyer was empty. No shoes, jackets, keys, nothing.
The house felt wrong. It was not just silent, more like vacant. Then, everyone exchanged glances and took off in a different direction. Daphne headed towards the kitchen, Soto and Malon went upstairs, and Oz headed towards the laundry room.
Daphne skimmed across the kitchen, two glasses still half-full of wine, a pen lying on the floor as though dropped in haste. She crouched, lifting it gingerly. "Morgan," she murmured under her breath. Daphne heard quite a clicking when Adam and Morgan called. Morgan was probably nervously clicking the pen, putting it back on the floor, and moving into the living room. She noticed the couch was crooked and the corner of the rug was folded. A small black line on the white floor looked like a mark from a rubber sole. Following the marks, she noticed the door to the porch was slightly ajar. "Guys …" she called out.
Meanwhile, Soto and Malon moved methodically upstairs, clearing the rooms individually. They were surprised by the clean rooms, but stopped dead in their tracks when they opened the study door. It was empty but …. They exchanged looks, then the silence was interrupted by Daphne calling out for them. "Daphne, what is it?" Soto's voice was grim when she called out to everyone. "I think I got something. What about you guys?" "Empty. No sign of struggle, no blood. But we found something as well." Malon called out. "We will come up.", Oz replied.
Oz and Daphne made their way upstairs, still looking around to glimpse Adam or Morgan. As they entered the study, the sight that greeted them made both freeze. The murder board Morgan and Adam had so carefully built was no longer neatly put away. It had been dragged into the centre of the room, its strings and photographs thrown into chaos. And on a sheet of white paper scrawled in thick, angry red marker:
WRONG.
Daphne's chest tightened. "Someone was here and wanted them to know. But how did he get in? The security alarm was not triggered. He must have had a key. But how? We need to see if the lock was picked. By the way, why is the unit I called not here already? I called an hour ago."
Everyone looked around, feeling weird. Malon spoke up first, "I will call dispatch. It's weird for sure. Give me a minute." He excused himself and went into the hallway. "Soto, what are we going to do? They are clearly not here. And we cannot know if they were taken, went willingly or are just visiting some neighbour?" Oz noted. Daphne cleared her throat. "I might know something. When I looked through the kitchen and living room, I saw some marks on the floor, and the patio door was slightly open. I think they were dragged out through the patio door. I think we should have a look outside. Maybe the killer ambushed them, and they fought back, and there are more scuff marks."
"Guys, I wasn't sure, but when I was in the laundry room, it felt like something was wrong or missing. The laundry basket was rummaged through. No way Adam did that, and Morgan, I also couldn't imagine doing that. And what struck me was a flower petal next to the basket." Soto looked at Oz angrily, and Daphne covered her eyes in frustration.
At that moment, Malon entered the study again. "We have a serious problem. Someone called and cancelled the unit Daphne ordered. They traced the call back to Oz's phone. Do you have any idea where your phone is?" Spooked, Oz searched his pockets but came up empty. "Oh no, he took my phone. Maybe when I was unconscious? But why? Just to call off the crime scene unit? There must be something else." Soto recapped everything for Malon, who just nodded along. Suddenly, they heard a thud.
Oz sat against the wall, pale, trying to steady his breath. "He said he was going to visit them. God damn it, he meant this. It is all my fault. He took my phone call from the unit Daph called and got to them. He must have waited for them and pounced when he was sure they were vulnerable."
Soto turned sharply, pulling out her phone. "It's not your fault you were ambushed. No one thought he was that close. No one thought he would attack an innocent friend. He never lost focus and attacked other people besides the couple. No one could have predicted that. Malon, when is the new unit coming? We need roadblocks on every exit. No one leaves this area without being checked. Even though the chances are very slim, he is still here. And someone call Steve and Danny. Maybe they saw something or someone suspicious. Now let's head downstairs to inspect what Daphne spotted." Everyone was feeling angry, panicked, and clueless. Whoever had taken Adam and Morgan was already gone.
Back downstairs, Daphne showed everyone the trail left on the white tiles leading to the patio door. Daphne crouched low at the back door to properly examine the lock and door frame. The lock had not been picked, and there was no damage or splintered wood. Soto asked if she could detect any evidence of a break-in, which Daphne negated. Oz crouched beside the askew couch and shone his torch under it. Hearing Oz grunt, Daphne pulled him up and crouched to retrieve the object Oz was trying to reach. She made contact with something cold and pulled out a small vial. There was no label on it, and only a small amount of clear liquid was left. Malon handed her an evidence bag while Soto checked the marks outside.
Faint drag marks scuffed the concrete on the patio and disappeared into the grass toward the back fence. "He pulled them out here," Daphne said, her voice quiet but cold. "And what then? Threw them over the fence? There is just a small pathway. On the other side. Wait, wait, I think I can see something over there." Daphne pointed at something cylindrical lying next to a rose.
Oz pointed his flashlight at the object in question. Upon seeing what it was, his jaw hardened. "He had syringes. He didn't knock them out the old-fashioned way. This was planned. The vial must have contained something to sedate them. He probably waited for them to come back and ambushed them. Injected some paralytic and pulled them outside. Maybe he had some mode of transportation outside waiting, but there is no way he could hide a van on this small path. There is no space."
Malon ran his hand over the panel and noticed a loose board. He motioned for Oz to give him some light. Malon started to pull panel after panel loose. In the end, six panels were missing, just the right amount for an adult to go through. Daphne grabbed her flashlight and went into the alley. "Guys, we need forensic asap. There are two whole footprints and two syringes. I want to know where this alley ends. Soto, could you come with me? Oz and Malon need to stay here when the unit arrives. Maybe he is just waiting for everything to quiet down again." Everyone nodded, and Daphne, with Soto in tow, made their way towards the end of the alley.
They trailed the faint signs of scuffs, disturbed leaves, until the tracks ended where a car must have been waiting. Tires had churned into the dirt, already smudged by the night's dew. "Daphne, please tell me we had cameras here or at least we have access to the street cameras." But Soto's question was already answered when she saw Daphne's devastated expression. "No, we thought that ally was leading nowhere. We had some cameras on the patio facing the alley, but no one thought they were abducted that fast and through the small alley. I will get a warrant to check if the camera recorded something. Let's head back, and I will call Judge Madison."
When they regrouped in the kitchen, the weight of failure hung heavy between them. The crime unit is already at work. Soto slammed her phone down on the counter. "Damn it. We had them wired, we had them covered, and still…" She stopped herself, raking a hand through her hair. "Whoever this guy is, he's one step ahead. Always. Daphne is trying to get the footage released from the camera up the road. But I have the feeling that it will not help. People, we need ideas."
Oz forced himself to breathe, to think past the knot of panic rising in his throat. The fear of being the reason was making itself known again. It all felt surreal. They never expected the killer to strike tonight, maybe tomorrow. The timeline suggested that the couples were abducted the day after meeting with a mate. Never the same night. Something has shifted. But what? Maybe he discovered they were undercover, which made him snap. But why? The only good thing was that there was no blood anywhere, and the timeline showed Morgan and Adam had a few days until he would kill anyone, but had already altered the timeline. What would happen and when was unclear. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Malon's voice. "We can't lose it now. If he wanted them dead, he'd have done it here. He's keeping them alive for a reason."
Leaning against the counter, Oz whispered, "That's almost worse."
Silence fell again, heavy and suffocating. Each of them pictured Adam and Morgan wherever they were now. Trapped, alone, facing a man who had already proved how dangerous he was. Everyone hoped that the killer had finally left evidence in his haste. But they were already a step further than last time; this time, they had a suspect.
Finally, Daphne straightened, her eyes sharp with determination. "We need to start with what we know. The flowers and the van are our best leads for now." Soto added in a serious voice, "Eli Tenner might be our Unsub, or he's at least connected somehow. We need to bring him in for questioning. And Paul is definitely too involved to ignore. We will have to keep looking until we find the link. Morgan and Adam are counting on us finding them." More reserved, she added, "And we don't sleep until we bring them back."
They stood in the kitchen for a few more seconds, the untouched wine glasses glinting in the dim light, the pen still on the floor where Morgan must have dropped it. The house now felt haunted, not by ghosts, but by absence. Everyone looked panicked yet still confident. With a nod, everyone went back to their assigned tasks. But before Oz could leave, Malon pulled him aside, telling him to get checked out by the paramedics just arriving. "Sir, respectfully, I am fine." Malon just shook his head and pointed at the ambulance sternly. "Nonsense, you are to go over there and let them have a look after that; get the vial and syringe to the lab and don't leave before you've got a tech looking at it. We've got it handled." With a deep sigh, Oz agreed and went to get checked out.
The sirens already attracted a big crowd. Almost all the neighbours stood on their front porches looking, unaware that its most watchful pair had just vanished.
With Adam and Morgan
Adam surfaced from blackness like a man drowning in oil. Thick, choking, every movement sluggish and wrong. His head pounded with a nauseating rhythm, the taste of metal sharp on his tongue. His stomach lurched, bile rising, but he forced it back down. He'd never felt so vulnerable and angry in his whole life. He felt emotions he had before, but now he wasn't sure why he thought them. His brain was too fussy to focus. At the same time, he felt cold. It was the first thing he registered besides the anger, making his chest tight. The air around him clung damp to his skin, heavy with mildew and stone. It smelled of rot, of water left to stagnate in dark corners. A drip echoed somewhere far off, steady and merciless. His brain tried to focus on the constant sound, but concentrating was too hard. His mind kept shifting into a kind of haze he recognised as waking up from anaesthesia.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, but everything started to spin, forcing him to shut them again and groan in pain. His throat felt raw as he tried to swallow. He needed to move. He tried to wiggle his arms free, but nothing. Then he felt the bite of steel against his wrists and the cold wood beneath his forearms. He was upright, slumped in a wooden chair with his arms secured to the armrests. Maybe his legs were free, but he doubted it. Moving each leg, he noticed they had more room to move. The clinking of the chains made his blood run cold.
He took another deep breath, hoping to calm the panic rising from being tied up. There was no way to escape this chair. But to be sure, he needed to see where he was. When he opened his eyes, his vision blurred but cleared in waves. Shapes shifted, shadows breathing against the walls. His chair was in one of the corners of a small cell. Behind him and to his side were dark, damp stone walls. In front of him were steel bars with a door in the middle. The bars separated the room into two halves. On the other side, Adam saw a chair with a small table and stairs leading up. His eyes travelled along the steel bars, then he saw something else. A figure on a narrow cot across from him. The cot was pushed into the other corner, maybe 6 feet from him. The figure lay still. Too still. Almost lifeless.
Morgan.
Adam's chest constricted, his pulse hammering in his throat. She was sprawled on the thin mattress, arms bound at her sides, her head turned slightly toward him. Her hair fell in a messy curtain across her cheek. Dirt and grass still in her blonde hair. Trying to focus on her chest, he saw no rise and fall of breath. He panicked. Looking back at her face, he saw how pale she was. He could see a dark spot on her left temple. It looked like blood, but he wasn't sure.
"No…" The word rasped from his throat, broken. His heart slammed, panic tearing through his chest like claws. Not her. Please, God, not her. Who could do this to her? What if she were dead and he wasn't able to protect her? There was no way he could look in her kids' eyes.
He yanked against the chains, the metal cutting into his skin. The chair rattled uselessly across the damp floor. His whole body trembled with the effort. Nothing gave. He was helpless. Everything felt too much, but he clawed through the hatred, trying to take over his mind again.
"Morgan!" His voice cracked, raw with desperation. He strained forward, his head bowed low as though sheer force could wake her. But for a long, gut-twisting moment, nothing. He tried again calling her name, but it ended with him coughing like crazy. Calming his breathing down, he heard a faint sound. A small, shaky breath. Her lips parted, and her brow creased. Slowly, painfully, her eyelids fluttered. But she shut them again immediately, her face scrunched in pain.
Adam sagged with relief so sharp it made him feel dizzy. "Jesus Christ," he whispered, his throat thick. "You're alive. You're okay. You're…" He cut himself off, clenching his jaw hard to stop the tremor in his voice. He couldn't stop the tears that started to escape his eyes. The relief of seeing her alive was overwhelming. His heart jumped in his chest, and for a second, he forgot about the panic and uncomfortable feeling of being tied up.
Morgan's eyes opened again just a sliver, glassy and unfocused. Confusion flashed through her eyes first, then fear. She gasped, trying to push herself into a sitting position, only to find her wrists restrained and no way for her to sit up properly. Too much effort for her strained body. The realisation struck her like a current, and her breathing turned rapid and shallow. She was panicking. She slumped back down, her eyes falling closed, a tear running down her cheek.
"Hey… hey, easy. You have to stay calm. Preserve your energy, don't exhaust yourself. You are not alone. Sweetheart breath. In and out." Adam leaned forward as far as the chains allowed, his voice low and desperate to anchor her. "You're not alone. Morgan, it's me. It's Adam. I want you to listen to my voice." He was now desperately trying to get her to calm down. Her breathing was becoming faster. She was hyperventilating.
Her gaze darted around the room, frantic, before landing on him. Her lips parted, trembling. She tried to push herself up again, her head lifting, but the effort was too much. She slumped back, the mattress groaning beneath her, and a heart-wrenching sob escaped her lips.
"Breathe. You will be alright. Listen to my voice. Breath in….. breath out…… again…… In….. Out. Yes, like this. Keep going. You are doing so well," Adam assured her. He was taking his own advice, breathing in with Morgan. His hands flexed uselessly against the shackles, skin raw now where the cuffs cut. He hated the helplessness. Hated seeing her like this. He wanted to go over there and comfort her. Give her a big hug and hold her tight. Take her face in his hands, to ground her in something steady.
Her chest heaved, panic still evident, but he could see that she slowed down her breathing. Listening to his steady breath. While he listened to her breath getting even and deep, everything inside him cracked apart. The feeling of being broken returned, and with it came the deep anger for the person who did this to them, especially Morgan. They needed to figure something out. Make a plan to escape and figure out where they were and who took them. Hearing a small whimmer from Moran, he reassured her, "You're alive, Morgan. That's what matters. … hang on. We'll get out of this. We can do it together. Let's focus on finding our voices again and defeating the panic."
He tugged at the chains again, straining with every ounce of strength. The wood beneath him creaked, the metal dug deeper, but something loosened. His muscles burned. But he had the feeling something was definitely loosening. But his lung was starting to hurt. The air felt like tiny pins and needles in his lungs.
Finally, breathless, he sagged back into the chair, chest heaving. His eyes never left her. She was fully awake now, terrified, yes, but awake, and her breathing was deep and regular. That was enough to keep him from breaking down. He gave her a reassuring nod, and Morgan gave him a tight-lipped smile, making Adams's heartbeat speed up.
The steady drip-drip-drip echoed like a clock counting down in the following silence. It made them both feel very uncomfortable, as if someone was torturing them with white noise. What felt comforting to Adam mere minutes ago was slowly making him nervous. For Morgan, it was even worse. Her brain, which usually worked at high speed, was dull, and she couldn't keep track of the drops. Her focus shifted every few seconds, and she forgot the number of drops she had counted. And even worse, she was sure he would blame himself when she told Adam about this. But it wasn't his fault — it was the one who abducted them. Morgan could see the fear in his eyes and the feeling of doubt. He was blaming himself for everything, making her crazy that he felt like it. The fear she saw made her feel sick, not because she blamed him. No, she was angry that she couldn't reassure him that everything was fine. But mostly, she hated that she couldn't hug him and kiss the fear away. She regretted being too afraid to tell him how she felt about him.
Suddenly, footsteps interrupted her thoughts from beyond the door at the top of the narrow stone steps. Slow. Deliberate. The metallic screech of a lock turning filled the cellar, a sound that cut through Morgan's chest like a blade. Someone was coming. The unease made its way down her spine. She lifted her chest a bit to see who was approaching them. The figure made his way down the stairs. The heel of his shoe had a clicking sound that grew louder with each step the man took. On the last step, Morgan looked at leather dress shoes like Adams. Her eyes travelled up the suit pants to a dark grey dress shirt with a dark green suit jacket. Everything felt very familiar. Then her glance met their unsubs. She gasped in surprise. Everything made perfect sense now.
At the crime scene
Oz had left about 10 minutes ago. One of the crime scene units took him back to the station. The paramedics reluctantly cleared him for desk duty. Still, they made him promise to go to the hospital as soon as this was over. There was no way to say definitively that he had no concussion without proper medical equipment. Still, all the signs pointed to a light concussion. All he had to do for now was wait for the evidence to be processed and the warrant for Eli's arrest. Daphne promised to update him as soon as they got permission.
Daphne was frantically calling the judge to get a warrant and was still at the crime scene. She hoped she could see something the others missed, but she knew her brain wasn't like Morgan's; still, she needed to try. She was waiting for Judge Madison to return to her chambers. It felt like an eternity when, suddenly, a deep voice answered the phone. "Detective, how can I help you this late?" Sighing in relief, Daphne explained the situation: that Eli Tanner was caught on camera stalking the Smiths, which fit their Unsub's profile. Daphne had already sent all the gathered evidence to his secretary. He listened to everything, promised to look at the evidence, and finally informed Daphne he'd call her back in a few minutes. Thanking him, she hung up and approached Malon and Soto.
"I reached Judge Madison. He will call back in a few minutes. I will give Danny and Steve a call to come by. They can help us process the scene. Maybe they have some insight that might help us. The more the merrier.", Daphne explained and was already reaching for her phone, but Soto stopped her. "Don't worry about it, I will give them a call. You keep your phone on loud if the judge calls back."
Soto moved to her car to give Steve's and Danny's supervisor a call. After a few rings, a familiar voice rang through the speaker. She exchanged some pleasantries and explained their situation. Upon hearing their current predicament, their supervisor agreed to let them help. He explained that the intel they gathered with the help of Morgan and Adam was a godsend. There was also evidence they might need for the abduction of Morgan and Adam. He promised to send everything to her e-mail and vowed to call Steve and Danny immediately. When Soto hung up, the anger flooded back. How could they have missed that the killer was already planning on kidnapping them? But she hoped the evidence he had suddenly left would help to convict him. Eli Tenner was there, man. He stalked Rachel and expressed the typical anti-social behaviour. Her thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking at her window. Daphne gave her a thumbs up and motioned for her to roll down the window.
"The Judge just called. We have the warrant to take Eli Tenner in. Also, Steve called Danny and himself. They are on their way; they will meet us at Eli's house. Malon is riding with you; I will follow." Soto nodded and started the engine as Malon sat next to her.
The drive took only 20 minutes. The police cruisers rolled to a stop at the curb a few houses down, headlights off, the quiet hum of radios the only sound inside. Soto sat forward in the driver's seat, vest tight across her chest, eyes locked on the two-story house across the street. Malon checked his weapon once more, jaw set like stone. They needed to be quick and quiet. There was the chance that Eli Tanner would run as soon as he heard the commotion outside.
The white police van with Danny and Steve arrived a minute later. Daphne, Soto, and Malon made their way towards the truck. Entering the back, they met a concerned Danny and an angry Steve. "Thank you guys for helping out," Soto said to them. "No worries. We were shocked when we heard. It's ridiculous. We haven't checked the footage from tonight yet, but Cap said there is something suspicious on there. Now let's get this guy. What's the plan?"
"Target's home," Daphne murmured from the back, tablet balanced on her knees. The surveillance feed from the block showed no movement. "Lights have been steady since twenty-two hundred. No exits since."
Then we move," Soto said. Her voice was low, clipped. She felt the pressure sitting between her shoulder blades. Morgan and Adam were out there, vanished, and every second mattered. "Steve Danny, you go round back. Cut off his escape that way. Daphne and I will knock on the front door, and Malon will stay at the garden gate if he's a runner. If no one opens up, we force our way inside. Be aware he might be armed and definitely dangerous."
The team fanned out across the lawn, boots whispering over the grass. Danny and Steve took the rear, waiting for the all-clear before slipping into position. Soto raised her fist. Three. Two. One. Nothing. They waited a few more seconds. Knocking again, nothing stirred in the house. Soto motioned for Daphne. The door blew open under Daphne's ram, the crack of splintering wood sharp at night. They stormed in, flashlights sweeping, commands echoing through the narrow halls. Nothing so far. Moving further into the house, they saw a figure in the kitchen with headphones in, moving to a beat.
"Police! Hands where we can see them!"
The figure stumbled, froze mid-step, arms lifting. Eli Tenner. His expression was a mix of shock and exhaustion, as if he had been dragged out of some restless dream. His eyes looked around frantically. His face got paler by the second. His breath came out shallow. All things pointed to him being on the verge of a panic attack.
"Down! Get on the ground!" Soto barked, moving closer with her weapon drawn.
Eli dropped to his knees, palms flat on the linoleum. He kept stuttering; he didn't do anything. Daphne moved in to cuff him while Soto stayed, pointing her gun at him. The cuffs snapped tight around his wrists a heartbeat later, and everyone relaxed. Soto called for everyone to enter and look through the house.
Steve and Danny moved in from the back through the house in a tight formation. Malon and Daphne went upstairs to check for Morgan and Adam.
"Clear!" Steve's voice called from the back room as he entered the kitchen, where Soto stood with a cuffed Eli. "Upstairs is clear! No sign of Morgan or Adam. Nothing." Daphne called out as she descended the stairs, with Malon following her.
Soto holstered her weapon, eyes never leaving Eli's pale, bewildered face. "Eli Tenner, you're under arrest for the suspicion of kidnapping two undercover agents. You have the…" Soto informed him while moving towards the car and putting him in the backseat. Behind her, Daphne, Steve, and Danny called for a CSU unit to gather evidence. Malon called the precinct to inform Oz that they would bring Eli in.
At the precinct
The interrogation room was dim, with fluorescent light buzzing overhead. Eli sat slouched in the metal chair, hands chained to the table. His leg jittered nervously in a restless rhythm. His face showed fear and distress. It was clear he was uncomfortable and surprised. Now and then, he looked around in terror. Steve, Danny, Oz and Daphne, on the other side of the two-way mirror, were slowly calming down to interrogate him. Still, everyone seemed to have a bad feeling. When Soto entered the room with Malon in tow, Daphne was about to say something.
Exhausted Soto started, "CSU found something. They found a lot of pictures of Rachel leaving her office, blurry images of her getting dressed, and her leaving home. There are more showing her shopping or at appointments throughout the city. But there are no pictures of any other victims. Your captain, Steve, and Danny sent over surveillance of Morgans and Adams from yesterday. He was lurking outside, but he only had a quick look around their front porch. Left after only a minute. CSU also found a lot of poetry books in different languages and time periods. He seems like a guy who reads plenty of them. We will try to gather information on Morgan and Adams' whereabouts. We need him to tell us something. Malon, come on, let's see if we can crack this guy. Time is slowly running out."
When Soto and Malon entered the room, Eli's eyes widened for a second, and Daphne could see a tear well up in his eyes. He was desperately trying to keep his breathing in check, but the fear wouldn't let him stay calm.
Soto sat across the table from him and leaned forward, file open before her. Malon stood in the corner, arms crossed, a silent wall of pressure. Daphne watched from behind the one-way glass, Oz beside her, both scribbling notes. Soto's eyes scanned Eli's face for something. She wasn't sure what she was searching for. Everything felt wrong, but he was their only suspect. He was almost perfect for the crime, but something felt very off.
"Let's start simple," Soto said evenly. "A few weeks ago, a couple of people were found. First, the husband followed by his wife. After that, three more couples followed. All were killed the same way and disposed of in the same manner. And tonight, another couple was abducted from their home. Coincidentally, we know you've been watching someone from this neighbourhood, and she looks almost identical to our missing wife. But your target is currently visiting friends, and we think you couldn't control your urges, but your intended target was gone. Does the name Rachel Smith ring a bell? We know you've been near her house. We have witnesses and photos of you lurking around her place. And there are multiple connections to almost every victim. You seem to have much free time stalking people and getting revenge."
Eli's face tightened. "I…" He swallowed, eyes darting between them. "I didn't… I never… look, yeah, okay. I followed Rachel. Sometimes. I liked her. She was… she is…” His voice cracked, shame bleeding into his tone. "I thought maybe she'd notice me. That's all. Your other victims, I have no clue who you're talking about. Sure, I had my fair share of odd jobs in the past, but I cannot imagine that I have something to do with a murder or multiple murders."
Soto's gaze didn't flinch. "Are you sure? What about Sara Lione? Wasn't she the one who tutored you? Or Jared Hahn? His family lived next to yours, and he bartended in a bar you frequented. Ring any bells?"
Exhaling sharply, he put his head in his hands, "I have no idea… I remember someone by the name Lione, but I don't know… I never… never had contact with her and the other one… I don't know. There was a family with a boy named Jared in our neighbourhood, but I don't… don't know him personally. Guys, there is no way … no way. I don't even like blood. How could I murder someone? Stalking, yes, okay. But it was nothing. Just so… some following around."
Soto interrupted him harshly and flipped a photograph onto the table. Rachel was leaving her office, Eli's car in the background. "You call this nothing? You were tailing her everywhere." She pulled out even more photos, "Taking pictures of her when she was most vulnerable. How can you say it was nothing? It was more than following. You sent flowers and gifts. Broke into her home, stole underwear…" Malon reached for Soto's shoulder to calm her down.
Eli's shoulders sagged. "Alright. Fine. I watched her. I sent notes. Flowers once. I thought it was harmless. Stupid, maybe, but harmless." His eyes flicked up desperately. "But I didn't touch her. I didn't break into her house. And I sure as hell didn't kidnap anyone. I am a creep, yes, but harming anyone is off limits."
Malon stepped forward, voice hard. "Adam and Morgan Renaud are missing. Taken from their home tonight. You expect us to believe you had nothing to do with it? You were lurking around their house yesterday evening, casing out a way to get to them."
Eli's eyes widened, real shock flashing across his features. "What? No… I didn't… Jesus, no!" He shook his head violently, chains clattering against the table. "I… I didn't even know they were gone. I swear. I'm not… I'm not that guy. Yes, I looked around yesterday, but only because the woman talked to Rachel, and I wanted to know who she was. I had never seen her before, and it felt different."
Soto studied him carefully. His panic didn't look rehearsed. It looked raw, messy. His hands were shaking violently, and all the evidence so far only pointed to him stalking Rachel.
From behind the glass, Daphne whispered, "He's rattled, but he doesn't fit. He only showed surprise when they mentioned Morgan and Adam. No anger, resentment or satisfaction. When mentioning Rachel, on the other hand, he showed several emotions that were conclusive of stalking her."
Steve and Danny nodded in affirmation, Oz added grimly. "Which means we're still chasing the wrong man. And Adam and Morgan are out there with someone else. Or he is masking everything pretty well. We need to know where he was tonight."
Soto leaned back in her chair, arms folded, eyes narrowing at Eli. "If you didn't take them, where were you between eight and ten tonight?"
Eli exhaled sharply, panic flashing across his face. Then, as though a memory jolted back into place, his posture stiffened. "Dinner. With my parents. They had…," He winced. "They had a friend over. Some girl they're trying to set me up with. We were at the house until after ten. You can call them. Call her. I went home immediately and logged into Call of Duty. You can have my login chart. Ask the people I was playing with. I just came downstairs to make some toast when you burst in."
Malon's eyes cut toward Soto. "Don't worry, we will follow up with them. Names," he demanded.
Eli rattled them off, rapid-fire, tripping over his words in the rush to be believed. "They'll tell you. My dad was grilling me about steady jobs, about settling down. I couldn't have left even if I wanted to."
From behind the glass, Daphne typed furiously, pulling up the parents' number and the girl they had over. Oz and Daphne went to their desk and started to make the calls. Steve and Danny followed. Steve called their supervisor while Danny looked through the evidence found at Eli's. The poetry they saw differed from the one they found on the victims. Danny couldn't explain why, but it was just … different. A moment later, Daphne looked to Oz, eyes wide. "They confirm it. All three of them. He was there the whole night."
Nodding, Oz answered, "The girl also confirmed it. Also, she said it was weird. She felt uneasy, but it was mostly because the parents talked on about steady jobs and children. She wasn't happy upon hearing he was questioned about a murder. She seemed to like the guy. How weird."
Steve's jaw tightened, unease spreading across his features. He pointed toward the evidence spread out on the desk. "But the flowers…. The order slips from Rachel's deliveries. They're from a shop downtown." His finger tapped one of the receipts. "Why did Eli order them when Rachel wasn't even there?" Daphne nodded her head towards the interrogation room to deliver the new information.
Knocking at the door, Malon answered. She whispered into his ear what they'd learned. Gritting his teeth, he turned back around. "Alright, your parents and friends confirmed your alibi. But tell me, Eli, why did you send flowers to Rachel? She wasn't even there?" Malon asked, annoyed. "Well, this bloke near Rachels offered a free delivery. His van said Cherries or something. I had to take this opportunity. Maybe she was coming back earlier than expected."
"You might have an alibi for tonight," she said coldly. "But you don't get a free pass. You stalked Rachel. You invaded her privacy. You sent her notes. That ends now. Call your lawyer if you have one; no one will be appointed. Soon, an officer will come by and transfer you to the cells where you can make your phone call."
Eli's shoulders sagged, his chains rattling as he let his head drop into his hands. "I just wanted her to see me," he whispered, broken. Malon's voice was ice. "What she saw was a threat." He pushed back from the wall, moving closer. "You're going to be charged. Stalking, harassment. You stay in custody until we sort this out." Eli nodded weakly, too drained to fight.
Soto and Malon exited the interrogation room and headed to the bullpen. Soto spoke up first. "Guys, he is not the one. We have him on record admitting stalking Rachel and the flowers he bought just in case from a shop named Cherries or something." "Wait, hold on. Have you seen this?" Danny held up a blurry picture.
With Morgan and Adam
Adam swore under his breath, "Those are my clothes!" The clothes were in his closet, laid out for tomorrow's lunch. Morgan once told him the colour made him look approachable.
The hinges groaned. A sliver of light cut through the dark as the door creaked open. Adam heard Morgan gasp next to him. He straightened instinctively, every muscle locking tight. From the shadowed doorway, a figure stepped inside. Slow and deliberate. The light barely caught him, only enough to show the outline of his shoulders, the calm, easy posture of someone who belonged here. His face was covered by a mask, only showing his eyes. He didn't rush. He didn't need to.
The man moved closer, dragging something metal across the floor, another chair, and sat down in front of the bars. When he sat, he put his hands on his knees. His hands had a few scrapes and bruises, as if you had fought something or someone. The suit jacket was too big for him, and the dress shirt showed a few stains. Probably blood.
Adam squinted, trying to discover where he had seen these eyes before. He was sure he saw them just recently, but where? "Who the hell are you?" Adams' voice was strained with rage. He felt hopeless, and he needed to protect Morgan.
The voice that answered was almost casual and conversational. "I think you already know, or at least one of you should know. Isn't that right, Morgan?"
Morgan, next to him, flinched when she heard him say her name. The tone was familiar enough to make Morgan's stomach twist. There was a faint accent in it, a measured, pleasant rhythm that he'd heard before but not like this. This voice had no warmth. She was sure she had heard it before, and his bluish green eyes reminded her of someone. But her mind was too fussy to remember. It felt like she was wrapped in cotton, preventing her from thinking straight.
The man leaned forward, just enough for the light to brush across his covered features. He looked Adam up and down, scuffing and looking over at Morgan. His eyes widened slightly, and a possessiveness suddenly appeared. It was disgusting.
Their kidnapper smiled faintly. "You know, I've been watching you two for a while. You're… convincing. Very convincing. But it's all an act, isn't it? The closeness, the love and the constant bickering? Right?"
Adam said nothing. He could feel the bulb's heat on his skin, smell the oil and dust. Morgan's breathing had steadied, but she couldn't say anything. Her mind was still trying to convince herself who the Unsub was. His cold eyes were… wrong. It made her feel like she needed to cry. She hated how small it made her feel. Her partner, Adam, was looking at her with concern. She wanted to crawl over, hug him, and hide her face in his neck. She needed comfort, and the worst thing was she knew she would get it with him, but there was no way it would happen.
The Unsub tilted his head. "Tell me something, Adam. How does it feel? Pretending to love someone like that, every day? Sleeping next to her and touching her and whispering things that aren't true. You played her from the beginning. Hiding her away made her feel important, but you left her alone. She was always alone, buying her own flowers. You didn't care for the beautiful things in life. You only cared about your perfect image. She was alone at night. At night."
Adam clenched his jaw. "You don't know anything about us. I am there for her. I care about her. She is the love of my life. There is no other one for me. She is way too independent for me to constantly be by her side, but I am whenever it counts."
"Oh, but I do know you." His tone softened almost to pity. You think you can fool her, but I see through it. She deserves something real, not whatever this… performance is. I saw you sleeping on your couch downstairs. She was all alone in your bed. How can you tell me you love her?"
Adam shifted in his chair, the faint sound of wood scraping concrete. When the Unsub got up and moved towards the bars, he continued hushedly. He tried to sound soft, but it sounded like he had explained some observations he had made. "She's different, you know. Kind. Smart. She listens. I bet you don't even appreciate that. Knows her limits. Submit and let others decide."
Adam's hands ached against the cuffs. He could feel his pulse pounding at his temples. The Unsub's comments made his blood run cold. Yes, Morgan was kind and Smart, but she didn't submit at all, and she definitely knew what she wanted. What the hell was the guy on about? "If you hurt her…." Adam's voice was shaking with anger. But mostly, he feared that creep was going to hurt Morgan.
The creep chuckled, a sharp, humourless sound. "Hurt her? No. I'd never hurt her. I'd give her what you can't. Someone who actually means it. Who loves her? Who shows her that she doesn't need to be in charge. I will give her someone she can submit to, and don't worry about not being cared for. You two are just fake. Wrong for each other like you little murder board."
Adam forced himself to stay steady. "You think this is all fake? That we're pretending? And what do you mean by murder board? Morgan is a journalist. She has an investigatory board, but I have no clue about murder."
Adam watched in horror when the Unsub opened the door within the bars and got inside. He moved slowly towards Morgan, who was pushing herself even more against the walls, trying to get as much space between them as possible. But right before he was beside Morgan, he turned around and stalked towards Adam.
The unsubs expression flickered, just slightly. "Is it? I could have sworn you were agents trying to catch me. But when I think about it, she is way too pretty to be an agent. Make me believe you are not agents. Make me. You might have a chance of survival. But maybe I will just take her anyway."
Adam hesitated, then spoke carefully, slowly. "We're not agents. We're private investigators. Before that, I was an author and Morgan was a journalist. We entered the neighbourhood when the Smiths felt like someone was watching them. Rachel is an old friend of Morgan's, whom Morgan met when Morgan needed an interior designer. Since then, we have been in contact, and the Smiths hired us, so we looked into buying or renting a house near them. When we saw the neighbourhood, we decided to finally move, not only because of Rachel, but also because we wanted to build something together. When we started to investigate, we noticed a pattern. That's all. We were just trying to help them. But still we are…."
The words threw the Unsub off for a moment. His brow furrowed, and he interrupted Adam. "You're lying. You bastard. You are lying straight to my face." Suddenly, he just stared at him, silent. His jaw worked as though he were chewing over the thought. The air grew heavier, thicker, as if the whole room were waiting.
Then his voice came, low and uncertain. "But maybe you believe your own lie. Maybe you've even convinced her. But still."
The Unsub took one step toward Adam, pulling something from his back pocket. A slight, metallic hiss cut through the air. Adam's eyes widened at the sight of a syringe. Scared, he looked from the syringe up into the Unsub's face. Whose expression was unreadable as he crouched in front of him. "You shouldn't have lied, Adam. I was going to let you live if you'd just told me the truth. But now… I need time to think."
"Don't…". The needle plunged into his neck before he could finish. A burning numbness spread through his veins. His vision blurred. The last thing he saw before everything dissolved into black was the eyes of his worst enemy hovering over him, strangely calm.
And just before his eyes closed completely, Adam heard the softest whisper, almost tender:
"She'll understand soon enough. She was never yours anyway." And a heartbreaking scream pierced through the air.
With Adam down, the Unsub turned towards Morgan in his hand, still holding the syringe. Morgan was now crying and screaming like crazy. She couldn't stop it. Her worst nightmare came true. She didn't know if Adam was dead or just sad. Flailing her arms, she was trying to escape her chains, but there was no way to escape.
The Unsub came closer, and she suddenly froze, disbelief cutting through the fog in her head. The florist. The quiet, polite delivery guy who had smiled, waved, and carried petunias like they were made of glass. His eyes were staring right at her. With a small gasp, she whispered his name. "Liam Carter." But how could they have missed this?
With a loud laugh, he pulled his mask over his head. And indeed there was Liam Cater. He walked towards Morgan, another syringe in hand. "Well done, love. It took you long enough, but it's time to sleep again. I need to think. Your husband told a fascinating tale. I might need to look into you further than I thought. I usually take more time before I invite you here," he gestured to the cell they occupied just now, "But you seemed so lonely, and when you came home, I couldn't anymore. Carol left you, but you will stay and love me."
Another scream left Morgan, her head rolling to the side. The last thing she saw was Adam's lifeless body. She just hoped he was alright. He needed to be. He was the one who would be able to get them out of this. He needed to get them out of this. I love him was the last thing that entered her mind before darkness.