Chase was sitting at his dining room table. Gus, J.D. and Skeeter were sitting around him as they all were going through a mound of paperwork and maps, trying to discover which of the several properties that Douglas Zarchy owned was the next logical place to search. It was a slow, frustrating process because none of those seven properties stuck out from the rest.

“Is Melissa going to be okay?” Gus asked as he looked up.

Chase glared at him. His wife was still upstairs crying her heart out with two of his children joining in. He would be consoling her except he was kicked out of his own bedroom while Melissa demanded the only thing he do was find their baby. “She’ll calm down soon enough. Karen’s up there with her. I shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up, but I was so sure we’d find Jenny at the church, it just all made perfect sense.”

Gus decided to stay quiet. His own thought was to tell the man to start expecting the worst, especially after a failed rescue attempt, but he chose not to say a word. His experience told him that the fact the note that was left behind without a ransom demand, that the child may already be lost to them forever. He sighed heavily and returned to his work.

A half hour passed of total silence as the men plotted lines on a map. They tried to think of things logically; tried to think of things criminally. They tried to see what perceived benefits and disadvantages each property had in an effort to narrow down the list so they could plan their next assault and hoped for a better result.

A cell phone rang, playing an odd tune that each man recognized but none could identify, save Gus, who programmed it. He snatched the phone from the leather holster, flipped the phone open with his thumb and hit the talk button. “Cantrell here,” he spoke clearly.

An operator from the FBI informed him of an interesting caller that wanted to be put through to him. One that may have important information.

“Certainly,” Gus leapt to his feet. “Put him through.”

“Agent Chase Milan,” a shaky voice said as the call was connected.

The group of men were all looking up at Gus who was nervously pacing three steps in one direction and then returning to his chair. “No,” Gus said in a calm voice that didn’t match his demeanor. This is Special Agent Cantrell that you are speaking to, and you are?”

“You already know who I am. I’ll only talk to Agent Milan,” the voice said a bit more firmly.

“He’s right here, hold on.” Gus lowered the phone. “Chase, we got a call for you, it’s Marquis. Now, it’s very important that you remain calm, don’t get confrontational with him.”

Chase stood up. Just the statement to remain calm put him on edge. He took the phone from Gus, trying not to appear grabby. He put the cell phone up to his ear and listened a moment, perhaps he would be able to hear his daughter in the background and know that the hope he was holding on to wasn’t in vain. He heard nothing, he took a deep, silent breath and exhaled slowly. “This is Chase.”

“Agent Milan,” the voice said in a now steady voice, but sounded like even as the man spoke he was questioning what he was doing. “You’re daughter is still among the living.”

Chase fell to his knee and would’ve gotten to all fours if Gus hadn’t caught him and held him up. It seemed just as soon as on weight was lifted, another was added and the man’s body was unprepared for the effects. “What do I need to do to get her back?” Chase asked as he fought back the tears of relief of hearing that his daughter was still alive and the rage of wanting to tear into those who had taken her.

“Just come quickly and come in force,” Marquis said plainly. “There are those of us here who want to see her dead and that’s going to happen fairly soon. You don’t have the luxury of another day.”

“Tell me where and we’ll be there.”

Marquis finished giving instruction to Chase of where he and Jenny were and where the other two would be stationed for some time. He hung up the cell phone and looked to the sky. “Thanks for the strength,” he said to the Heavens and then shook his head.

Chase relayed the information to the men in his kitchen and immediately a flurry of activity began. “Don’t tell my wife, let’s not dash her spirits twice in one day, but let’s move quickly,” Chase said as he scrambled for his car keys. He had the location of a daughter, who was but a county away, and each said was an agonizing eternity.

Jenny watched as the man walked back into the shed. She was still naked, still hungry, still exhausted to no end, but she also displayed the same slight smile that spoke of a certain pride. She did not know of the call that Marquis had just made, only of the prayer in which she led the man.

Marquis looked at the child. He smiled too, then checked that the restraints still looked like they were fastened, even though they weren’t. “Thank you, angel,” he said with sincerity as he kissed the child on top of the forehead. For the first time in his life he was at total peace with himself. “This will all be over soon, but there is one more sin for me to commit, but I promise it’ll be my last,” he said cryptically. “Now, if either of those two come in to harm you, you run. There are woods no more than twenty feet if you turn left out of the shed. You can hide there.”

Jenny nodded. She figured whatever the sin Marquis figured he had to commit, that it would involve violence and the two other captors. She was in no shape to object and hoped the ordeal would soon be over as the man had said.

“I’ll see you in heaven,” Marquis said as he backed away. He looked at the child one last time. Though he still didn’t get excited at looking at her naked, he knew it was only a matter of time before he again faltered. Marquis closed the door behind him after he left the shed.

The man walked around to the back of the shed. The supplies he had prepared were waiting. The noose was still tied and a note he had written in as neat a penmanship he could manage sat folder under a rock that kept it from blowing away. In the distance he heard the whirl of a chopper blade, he knew his time was short.”

Marquis stood upon two crates stacked one atop another. “Father forgive me, a sinner,” he said softly a tear rolled down the side of his face. “Into thy hands I commit my spirit,” he said, and in a moment he spoke no more.

Chase looked out the side window of the police helicopter they borrowed from the Nashville Metro police department. Though the small city’s police force was growing, they weren’t quite big enough to justify air support. Below him and off to the right was a row of black SUVs marching along. Off in the distance he knew his child was waiting and he would be there soon. He rubbed the handle of his gun. “Hold on, Baby, I’m coming,” he thought.

Fifteen minutes after he received the call the helicopter peeked over some trees and there was the property that held his daughter captive. It took less then a minute for the pilot to find a clear spot and touch down in between the house and the shed where they were informed the girl was being held.

Dee and Doug were caught off guard. They heard the helicopter as it landed, but they were in the bedroom doing what Marquis was suppose to be doing in the shed. Dee wouldn’t admit it to her husband, but she was envisioning the act of their compatriot as Doug made each thrust; she had never been so aroused until then. With the sound of whirl from the helicopter, the mood was shot. Doug pulled up his slacks and raced towards the window. “It’s the Feds,” he shouted frantically. “Grab the gun, we’ll end it now.”

Before Dee could move or object, the door to the bedroom imploded and four very serious looking weapons were pointing at them. “Don’t move,” one of the men wielding the gun shouted at them.

Chase ran to the shed. A towel was draped over the handle; the signal that was left to tell him only his daughter was inside. Still, he proceeded with caution. A discarded little league uniform and a soiled, bloodied pair of his daughter’s panties were not too far away from the shed and that caught Chase’s eye but did not deter him. His anger flared, but he kept himself in control. He kicked open the door and rolled out of the way, just incase of an ambush.

Jenny looked at the open door. The bright sunlight hurt her eyes. Her young body tensed with uncertainty as she debated if she should make a run for it then, but as soon as the thought popped into her mind, a shadow filled the doorway and her route was momentarily cut off.

“Jenny!” Chase yelled in relief as he saw that his daughter moved her head.

“Daddy?” Jenny’s eyes tried to adjust as her mind tried to figure out if she was somehow dreaming. But it wasn’t a illusion and she attempt to roll off the cross towards him.

Chase sprinted the few feet to his daughter. She was bruised, battered, and bloodied. He could tell she was cut and burned. She looked like she’d been through hell, but she never looked more beautiful to the man than she did right then. He embraced her and cried. “I’m here, Baby,” he sobbed. “Daddy’s here.”

Her father’s embrace hurt. Everything hurt, even moving. She didn’t show the pain though, the hug hurt, but felt so good at the same time. “I knew you’d come,” she said in a horse whisper which was as loud as she could talk. “I just knew it.”

Chase removed the restraining cuffs from his daughter and discovered how much pain she actually was in. Jenny was in no shape to walk, she barely had the strength to sit up and two weeks without any activity made all her muscles atrophy and they were sore on top of all the abuse. An ambulance siren could be heard in the distance; a hospital stay would surely be required. “I’ll be right back,” Chase said as his hand reached down to his holster, he felt the strong need to break someone in half.

“Don’t go Daddy,” Jenny cried. “Please don’t go.”

“Stay put Chase,” a voice said from the door. “This is where you’re needed most.”

Chase turned around to see Gus standing at the door. He nodded. “Okay, Jenny. Nothing is more important than you being okay anyway.” Chase cradled the girl in his arms.

Gus slowly walked to Chase and looked at the child who clung to her father. “We’ve been looking for you, young lady,” he said and gave a big smile.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” Jenny said weakly.

Gus chuckled and turned serious as the girl fell asleep. “The two men are dead,” he whispered into Chase’s ear, trying not to disturb the child. “Marquis Turner hung himself behind the shed, by the time we got to him it was too late. If it matters, he left a note apologizing for his role in all this and causing you any pain. The other one, Doug Zarchy, he died while they were reading him his rights. The boys tried CPR, but,” his voice trailed off.

Chase nodded. “I don’t care. I got my baby back. That’s all the matters.”

Skeeter waited outside the cabin as the Feds pretty much handled all the work. He knew he wasn’t really needed there, but his curiosity got the best of him. He knew that the coroner had been called, that the old preacher had finally breathed his last, and for that he had felt no remorse.

Dee was led out of the house, cuffed and draped in a sheet. She held her head high as she made it through the door. Her ex-husband was there waiting for her, so it seemed. “Oh, it’s you.”

Skeeter viewed his ex-wife, he figured he would feel anger or remorse, but those feelings never arose. “You’ve lost some weight, Diane,” he said casually “it suits you.”

Dee stared at her ex, waiting for some insult, some form of ‘I told you so,’ the fact that it didn’t come upset her. “And I’ve heard you’ve done well for yourself. A detective now, and all that, congratulations.”

“We’re happy,” Skeeter said. “Me and Shawn that is. Life has been going well, until of course all of this mess. But I suppose that things will be getting back to normal soon enough. You’d be proud of our boy, he rolls with the punches quite well.”

“Proud of that little queer,” Dee turned spiteful. “He’ll turn out to be just like his father…”

Skeeter wasn’t about to let his ex-wife have the last word. “God willing he will do just that, turn out just like me that is, and no matter what I’ll be proud of him. Take this,” Skeeter paused as he thought of what words he should use, “this person away. Goodbye, Diane.”

Dee was dragged off the porch. “I’m not through with you and that queer yet, you hear me.”

Skeeter shook his head. “You may not be through with us,” he said in an inaudible whisper, “but we are sure through with you.”

Author's note: There is only another chapter or two left and an epilogue, I hope the conclusion to the kidnapping was palatable to people. This has been an epic journey for me. I don't know if suicide was the right answer, but it seemed to be fitting. There has been a lot of Bible quoting going on. Now, I am not one to be a proponent of ending one's life, but I see the benefits.