Zac rolled off the couch where he’d gone to sleep the night before and staggered into the kitchen. Looking around at his family, assembled at the kitchen table, they didn’t look like they had fared any better than he in trying to get to sleep. His Mom was red-eyed from crying as was his two sisters. His Dad was comforting Avery, stroking her hair and rocking her slightly as she hugged him. Ike was leaning against the kitchen counter with Zoe in his arms, rubbing his chin back and forth over her spiky short hair. 

"Where’s Mackie?" Zac asked wanting a complete inventory of every member of his family.

"He’s upstairs," Ike reported. "He won’t get out of bed."

"I’ll go get him," Jessica volunteered.

"I need to fix you kids some breakfast," Diana said woodenly.

"Don’t bother, Mom," Ike said. "I’ll fix some cereal."

"Thanks, honey," Diana said nodding her head in a distracted manner that scared her oldest son and she turned and left the kitchen. Ike shot a look at his father and Walker nodded.

Walker bent down to his daughter and hugged her. "Honey, I need to go talk to Mommy right now. Help your brothers fix breakfast," he instructed and followed his wife out of the room.

With a quivery lower lip, Avery just transferred her clinging hug to her closest brother, who happened to be Zac. 

Zac needed a hug himself, so he gave his sister a bear hug that lifted her clear off her feet and spun her around with a growl. Avie didn’t giggle as usual, but she did crack a smile.

Ike put Zoe into her high chair and started putting cereal bowls down on the table. Zac raided the cabinet for cereal boxes bringing out to his disgust only healthy non-sugared varieties. 

Jessica came into the kitchen leading Mackie by the hand, still in his pajamas. They’re littlest brother crawled up into chair and grabbed a spoon. Ike poured milk over his cereal and sprinkled sugar over the top and watched as Mackie dove into this breakfast. The girls were a little slower, but they gradually started to eat their breakfast too. Ike stirred up some instant oatmeal for Zoe and fed her while the rest of his siblings ate their breakfast in silence. 

Agent Curtis and his ‘posse’ as Zac had nicknamed the other three agents that worked for him, arrived at their house at eight in the morning. They had left only six hours before and had left one agent on duty in the den all night. He conferred with Walker that no phone calls had been received and took up residence in Walker’s office. His agents were dispatched back to the studio for more interviews. Their primary objective: find someone who had seen or heard something.

The entire Hanson family was on edge and snappy. Every minute that the phone didn’t ring was the longest minute of their lives. When the phone did ring, they froze in fear. One by one the agents returned and reported their findings. Walker and Diana, Ike and Zac were the only family members allowed into the study while they were discussing possible suspects.

Agent Curtis’s subordinates outlined their findings one by one. 

Agent Newman: "Eighteen interviews. Basic conclusions the same. Taylor’s a well mannered young man. He doesn’t seem to be temperamental or egotistical. Comes in does his job, listens well, and follows instructions without argument. Eight out of the eighteen saw him come into the studio. Four didn’t pay attention to him leaving, the other four did see him leave but they weren’t paying particular attention because it was a normal occurrence. Only one name came up as even a minor possibility was Zachary Ty Bryon. He had a minor role in the movie and apparently he and Taylor didn’t get along."

Ike was standing behind his Mom’s chair with a hand on her shoulder. He looked up and responded. "Zachary and Tay didn’t get along, but I don’t think Zachary would hurt him."

"He’s a jerk!" Zac challenged angrily. 

"Just because he’s a jerk doesn’t mean he’d hurt Tay," Ike objected.

"Newman?" Agent Curtis interrupted addressing his colleague.

"We got his address and stats from the studio. No criminal record. No arrests, couple of traffic violations nothing serious. I sent Freeman over to talk to him."

"Reiger?" Curtis snapped.

The young agent pulled out his pocket notebook and read off the statistics. "Interviewed twenty-seven people. Most of them, crew for the movie. Nothing new to report. Some thought, he, Taylor I mean, was a bit of a loner. He had a habit of taking off for a few minutes by himself after working on a scene. Spent quite a bit of time with one of the women on the catering staff, a Nancy Summers. She’d deaf, and has limited speech capability. A Marcy Mircle, a fellow worker, acted as interpreter. Miss Summers reported that she was teaching him sign language, and had loaned him several books. Just friendship, nothing sexual going on that she would admit too."

"Nancy and Tay are friends, nothing more," Ike interrupted. "Jeez, Tay’s just sixteen, Nancy must be twenty-one."

Agent Reiger didn’t even look in his direction. "Twenty-four. Miss Summers confirmed that. She also reported that last week, that during a trip over to the commissary she and Taylor drove by some fans and one of those fans threatened Taylor. According to Miss Summers a woman, of medium to small build with dark brown shoulder length hair screamed that she was "going to get him".

"Tay didn’t say anything about being threatened," Walker exclaimed.

"He didn’t hear it," Agent Reiger reported. "Apparently there were some loud machines making noise at the time. Miss Summers ‘heard’ it by reading her lips. She’s not the most reliable source as an eyewitness, since lip-reading can be interpreted many ways. When she told Taylor about it, he laughed it off. Told her that there were a lot of weirdo’s that hang around and not to worry about it."

"So who is this woman?" Zac demanded.

"We talked to the girls that were outside the gates. None of them were there last week and none of them report anyone of that description having been hanging around for the last couple of days," Agent Reiger reported. 

"So how do we find her?" Zac asked.

"Marshall," Agent Curtis snapped ignoring the question. 

"I’ve been through the personal files of everyone that’s worked in the Hanson camp since July of 96," Agent Marshall reported. "Three dismissals. Jeffery Addison, 31, road crew, terminated for theft. He paid restitution and the charges were dropped. He’s currently working at a construction site of Wilson Construction. Ferral Linwood, 22, electrician, terminated for not showing up to work. Currently, working on the road show of the Country Celebration of Stars. Larry Wagaman, 34, backup musician, terminated for drug abuse. Deceased, drug overdose, four weeks ago."

"That’s it?" Agent Curtis demanded.

Agent Marshall opened his briefcase and tossed half a dozen paperback books. "Unauthorized biography’s, several were on the best seller’s list. One, ‘Tell All’, if you could call it that. Ravi XXXXXXX, claims to be a friend, yet he hints at being dissatisfied because his contract as a back-up guitarist wasn’t picked up."

"Ravi’s an opportunist, but he wouldn’t hurt Tay," Ike said. "He liked Tay. If he had a problem with anyone it was me. He could string Zac and Tay along because he pretended to be their friend, but I wasn’t as quite as naive. When I found out he was keeping a journal on all of us, I thought he was up to something. I told Dad we should have sued him for breaking the confidential contract."

"I contacted the office in Newark, they’re tracking him right now, but he’s a loose cannon." Agent Marshall explained. "We’re trying to keep a lid on the press and if he isn’t involved we certainly don’t want to tip him off."

"Ravi would leak it to the press for sure," Walker agreed. "Anything to get his name back in the headlines."

"That’s all we have?" Agent Curtis demanded. "A couple of disgruntled ex-employees and a mystery woman who threatened him. Not much to go on. Dig deeper!" he ordered and the men left the office.

Agent Curtis looked down at the phone on the desk as if willing it to ring. But it didn’t. He looked up at the Hanson family member and shook his head. "Our best hope for a lead, is a call. Until that happens, we just don’t have much to go on. I know it sounds impossible, but you need to return to your daily activities as much as possible. We’ll keep doing our jobs. It’s just a waiting game."

* * * *

Taylor woke up groggy and stiff and tried to change positions. Every few hours he would wake up simply because his body was so cramped up that his muscles were knotting up and cramping painfully. He suspected it was morning but because his eyes were taped over and his head hooded, it was really just a guess. The sounds of his surrounding were slightly different. Before there had been occasional barking of dogs and he could clearly make out the sounds of cars, now he couldn’t hear any animals sounds and there was a more constant hum, a more steady flow of traffic on the road outside. Taylor flexed his arms and legs as much as he could within the constraints of his bonds. His captors had left the house. It was hard to estimate time, but he guessed they had been gone for several hours. He’d heard footsteps and undistinguishable voices and then he’d heard a door slam. It was hard to concentrate. He had the worst headache he’d ever had in his life and he chuckled with humorless mirth because of the irony. He always fought with his Mom because he didn’t like taking medicine even as simple as an aspirin. Now he could only wish and long for something so simple that would give him some relief from his agony. How long were they going to keep him here? Were they after money? Notoriety?

Taylor leaned his head back against the wall and in a sudden fit of anger, pulled and tugged at his bonds. He only managed to hurt himself, banging his wrists and ankles against the hard metal of the handcuffs and chains. Taylor brought himself back to a stillness that masked his internal anguish and bewilderment of his predicament.

* * * *

"Ike I can’t stand this!" Zac growled and to emphasis his point he threw his pencil across the room.

Ike looked up from his own book. "What are we supposed to do about it?" he questioned.

Zac looked over at his brother and he was glaring at him. This was one of those times when an older brother was supposed to know what to do! 

"It’s been over twenty-four hours, Ike!" Zac yelled.

"I know that," Ike sympathized and responded. "It’s been exactly twenty-eight hours!"

"Then why aren’t they doing something?" Zac demanded.

"Agent Curtis says they don’t have anything to move on yet," Ike said.

"I don’t think he wants to find Tay," Zac exclaimed. "I heard him tell Agent Marshall that he hasn’t ruled out yet that he may be a runaway."

"That’s stupid," Ike objected.

"I know that and you know that that, but HE doesn’t get it." Zac fumed. "Nancy said she saw that woman threaten Tay. Why doesn’t he try to find her?" Why doesn’t he follow up on that clue? He acts like that, just because she’s deaf, and has to lip read that she really didn’t see it! Nancy’s probably more accurate at lip reading than Curtis is at hearing!"

"I agreed," Ike said nodding his head. "Let’s go talk to Nancy."

Zac gapped at his brother in surprise. "You mean it?"

"If you’re not in the car, before me, I’m going without you," Ike warned. "I’ve got to go tell Dad we’re leaving."

"Yes," Zac punched the air with his fist. Finally, they could be doing something that might help find his brother.

Ike explained to his Dad that he wanted to get Zac out of the house before he attacked Agent Curtis physically just out of general principles. His father agreed with his assessment of his brothers’ sense of helplessness. None of them were very pleased with Agent Curtis’s demeanor, but they had to deal with him. Walker had his hands full keeping Diana from going right over the edge of hysteria.

Ike drove himself and his brother back to the studio. It was awful to drive through those gates and know that they were back exactly where they started the day before, and yet so much had changed. Tay, wasn’t with them, and they didn’t know how to find him.

Ike parked in his usual spot and they walked over to the studio. As they entered the studio, Phil and Eddie both came to meet them anxiously. 

Ike shook his head before they could even ask a question.

"Damn!" Phil exclaimed.

"We came to talk to Nancy," Zac said. "How come the catering people aren’t here?"

"We’re shutting down production until Taylor is found," Phil explained. "I called Stephen, he’s outraged that something like this could happen on this lot. He said he’d be coming by to see your folks. If there’s anything we can do, just call, anytime."

"For now, just tell us where we can find Nancy," Ike suggested.

"Probably over at the commissary. She and Marcy cleaned up about an hour ago," Eddie reported.

Ike and Zac walked back to the car and drove over to the commissary. They caught Nancy just as she was about to leave for the day. Nancy gave both of them a big hug and apologized for not being able to be more help.

"Actually, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about," Ike said. "Agent Reiger said that you saw a woman who threatened Tay, and we just wanted to hear it from you."

"I told them everything I remember," Nancy explained.

"We know, but those agent guys aren’t exactly sharing information with us," Zac explained. "We thought maybe you could tell us too."

"How about we take you out for pizza or something," Ike suggested. "That way we can talk in private."

Nancy agreed, and they headed over to local Pizza House in separate cars, so she wouldn’t have to return for her car. Once they were settled into a booth in the back and Zac had ordered a large pizza and drinks they got to business. Zac was better at translating Nancy’s sign language and what she couldn’t make clear by either speech or sign language she would resort to writing out on a pad of paper. It was an odd combination of conversation but it was communication of the best kind, because it was honest. Nancy felt guilty that she hadn’t reported the incident. Ike reassured her, that there was still no confirmed connection between the woman’s threats and Tay’s disappearance. When they parted company, Nancy assured the brothers that she would help them in any way possible.

Ike and Zac returned home to the bad news of no news. No phone call had been received yet. They joined their family in the continuing vigil of waiting. One by one as the evening spent itself the younger children were sent to bed. It was past eleven o’clock, and Zac’s head was beginning to nod when the phone did ring. Every time the phone rang, everyone went on alert. Walker had been instructed by the FBI on how to talk to the kidnappers. How to detain them on the phone long enough for the FBI to trace the call. Walker took a deep breath, praying it was the right phone call.

"If you want your son back, it’s going to cost you a million dollars. If you call in the police, I’ll kill him," the voice said roughly.

"I want to speak to Taylor," Walker demanded is voice shaking.

The phone line went dead.

* * * *

Taylor’s captors were back. He heard them come in, but so far they hadn’t come in to where he was being held. He had been left alone all day. He was really hungry and really thirsty and worst yet that drip over his head was driving him crazy. He’d tried to ignore it, but it was constant and steady with the most annoying plopping sound. He’d even resorted to counting the drips but he’d lost count somewhere around the three thousand mark. At this point, he was just imagining tasting the drops of water. 

Taylor’s attention was drawn out of his own thoughts as he heard loud voices in the adjoining room. He could clearly decipher two male voices and one female voice, all raised in anger. He could only occasionally make out a word or two of what they were arguing about and it seemed to be money.

It was probably for the best that Taylor couldn’t hear the conversation going on right outside the bathroom where he was being kept. 

Standing in the living room of an abandoned house, Taylor abductors, a large man and a small woman stood arguing with another younger man. 

"What do you mean you kidnapped a kid?" the younger man exclaimed angrily.

"That kid in there is worth millions of dollars," the large man explained.

"Are you crazy," the younger man exclaimed. "I’m not getting involved with a kidnapping! I can’t believe you idiots did this."

"It’s easy cash," the woman interrupted. "They’ll pay it easy."

"God help me. You don’t get it," the younger man said angrily. "Kidnapping is a federal offense. I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life in prison because you two crack heads got some stupid idea that kidnapping is simple. By now, the FBI is probably all over this case!"

"Well, you’re in it," the larger man snarled. "You told us to get a cash flow, so we got one."

The younger man looked at the two people standing in front of him. Both of them were coming down off a crack high and both were jittery and nervous. Dealing with drug addicts was his business. He was a dealer and a smart one, never taking the drugs himself that he sold and hooked his stringers on. These two had been selling for him for some time now, but they were becoming more trouble than they were worth, since they were using up more of the supply than they were selling. When his dealers became more users than sellers, they were dangerous liability to him.

"Rand told them not to call the cops," the woman explained with a simple-minded vulnerability that came with long-term drug abuse. Her brain was fried from trying to use drugs to a point of no pain. "Ya’ got something you can give us on account?"

"Yeah," the younger man said making a decision, quick and blunt. "Let me go out to my car and I’ll give you something to hold you over until we can figure out this mess."

Walking out to this car in the darkness, the young man looked over at the old section of neighbor that was about to become part of a city wide renovation project. Half of the street was fenced off, but it didn’t keep anyone out that wanted to use the boarded up houses as a place to crash. He slid into the seat of his sixty-five thousand-dollar specially equipped Mercedes and opened the glove compartment. He pulled on some disposable rubber gloves and opened a nylon pouch revealing hundreds of tiny plastic bags filled with small granular rocks of crack. He picked up two pouches and then changed his mind and dug deeper into the bag and pulled out two bags with a name stamped across them in black letters--Fatal Beauty. He dumped the rock out into his palm and opened the two unmarked bags and dumped the contents into the open pouch. He refilled the bags with the ‘Fatal Beauty’ rocks in his palm. Zipping the zip-lock tops together he put the pouch back in the glove compartment and laid the plastic bags down on a paper napkin and folded up the edges. Then he pulled off his plastic gloves and tossed them into the seat and picked up the napkin carefully placing it between his knuckles and being careful not to leave touch it with his fingertips. He reentered the house, wiping the doorknob as he entered and then wiping the inside doorknob and leaving the door open.

"Hey, Joanie, you’ll like this," he said waving the two packets that were placed between his knuckles. 

The woman grabbed the packets desperately. "Thanks, Jimmy," she breathed anxiously looking at the bags and over to her boyfriend, Rand, unable to disguise her impatience to get to the contents. 

"No problem," he said without a second look in her direction. "I’ll be back tomorrow," he lied and he turned his back on two people he’d known for years. They’d served his needs, now it was time to move on.

As he walked out the door, Joanie shut the door and ran across the room to join Rand in the bedroom. Rand was ready and within minutes they had shakily prepared the drug for use. As the drug slowly took effect they waited for their own private nirvana to remove them from their pain of their abused and addicted bodies. Less than a minute into their downward spiral Fatal Beauty took its permanent toll.

* * * *

Taylor was beginning to drift off into sleep again. He’d heard the door slam and then nothing so figured he was alone again. It was night again. He could hear the dogs barking in the eerie silence of the dark. He began to hum a church hymn that was his favorite.