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Chapter 4

"I don't get it..." Sheriff Lenten scratched his chin as he stared at a printout of the typed dialog pulled from the videos related to his brother's murder. "What the hell is it that could have made Brandon a target for this sick son of a bitch?" He, Carla, John and Rachel had been going over the printouts for nearly four and a half hours after the brief introduction of the second F.B.I. agent.

"I know what you mean." Carla agreed, her own stack of paper covered in pen and high lighter marks. "In one of these so called 'clues' he makes a clear reference that he's holding his hostage in an abandoned house. In another, the reference he makes is clearly about a warehouse. It's like he's not even sure where he's at."

"That hostage had a name..." Mike said in a slightly angered and matter of fact tone."

"Sorry..." Carla offered. She didn't bother more then the simple apology, knowing that it was pointless to try anything more then that considering that it was still sinking in for Mike that his brother was, in fact, dead.

"He's probably begun to loose his sense of place, considering that he's done this so much by now. It's not hard to make the assumption that this game of his some how excites him. Maybe he's actually getting so caught up that he's loosing control."

"We both know that it's stupid to make assumptions about this guy, Rachel." A fist slamming onto the table drew the attention of the agents before any more could be said.

"All these dam assumptions and guesses aren't getting us any closer to finding this guy... Or getting my brother's body found." Carla wanted to reach out, to give a soothing hand on the sheriff's obviously tense shoulders. She couldn't bring herself to do it though. Instead, letting her hand fall back to her side and looking back down at the paper in her hand.

The four of them barely took notice of the deputy who came into the room then, the officer bending over to whisper something in Mike's ear. The sheriff visibly tensed, if it were possible for him to do so more then he was, then quickly got up and let the deputy lead him out of the room.

"What the hell was that about?" Rachel asked as soon as the heavy wooden door of the conference room slammed shut behind them. John could only offer a shrug in reply.

"Why don't we get back to work then?" Carla offered. The two agents nodded, pulling out the nearest chairs and began pouring over the 'clues' again.

Sam couldn't remember how many of these overly bland interrogation rooms he had been 'asked' to wait in while the upper brass of that particular station decided either to shine an un-necessarily bright spotlight on him in their investigation, or throw him out on his ass as some kind of crazy.

By the time that the sheriff entered the room, Sam had paced the eight by eight room for nearly half an hour. The sheriff immediately took a seat at the interview table, but Sam chose to lean against the wall directly across from him.

"Why don't you have a seat?" The sheriff's tone was an attempt at the same false friendship that he had heard from nearly all of the officers that Sam had talked to in the last...he didn't care to remember how long.

"I'd rather stand if that's alright with you." Mike sighed and let his frustration enter his voice slightly to give it more force.

"Look, just sit down and tell me what it is you came here to say. I have an investigation to get back too."

"I'm sure your investigation is important sheriff..." Sam countered. "But you have no idea what I'm about to tell you. I'm standing across from the two way mirror, speaking clearly, and not making any aggressive movements, so I don't see the need to sit."

"Look kid, I'm not in the mood for games so sit your ass down!" Mike was surprised that he was shouting so quickly, but didn't give it a second thought.

"Either you're gonna throw me out after I say what I'm about to, or you're going to want to question me more, so I suggest you calm down sheriff." The last word was said with emphasis, Sam trying to remind Mike of his official law enforcement position.

Mike didn't take the hint. A slammed fist and flying chair were visible signs that their conversation was about to end, one way or another.

"If you think that I'm going to put up with these stupid games then you..."

"He's already picked his next target."

Mike paused at the interruption, but it still took him a few moments to actually hear what Sam had said.

Chapter 5

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mike's voice had dropped in volume considerably, but it still held the anger and annoyance.

"The man who posted the videos where people die. He's already picked his next target." The time between Sam's last word and the moment that Mike had him pinned against the wall by his shirt collar could have only been measured in milliseconds.

"Just what the hell do you know about him?" The question was shouted loud enough that it made Sam's eyes shake, but he continued in his calm, level tone.

"I know that he's here. That he's been doing this a long time, moving faster every time. And, I know that he's already decided on his next victim." Mike was shaking as he held the slightly younger, slightly shorter, stranger against the wall.

"And just what makes you think that? What makes you think that he's already got his next victim planned?" The sheriff asked the question through gritted teeth, his anger still present.

"Follow the pattern." Sam finally answered, his eyes almost mocking in their refusal to avert from the sheriff's. For a few silent moments, the sheriff rolled his answer around, trying to see if it was worth the song and dance it took to get.

"You don't know shit..." He finally spat, releasing his hold on the younger man and stepping back a bit. "You're just guessing based on what you got from the news."

Sam shook his head 'no', but the sheriff had already made up his mind. "You're just some punk who's trying to get attention by clamming to have information on the case. I should lock your ass up for obstruction of justice."

"You may just want to lock me up anyway when you hear this next part." For some reason, the way that Sam sounded so sure of himself made the sheriff pause. The silence dragged out for almost a minute before the sheriff turned to fully face him again, his breath shallow with anticipation.

"I know where his body is." Sam was expecting to be slammed against the wall again, so when he realized that he was on the floor, a numb throbbing in his cheek, he could do little more then stare up at the sheriff.

Sam guessed that he must have been knocked for one hell of a loop because buy the time that his mind got firing on all cylinders again, two deputies were pulling the sheriff away from him by the arms.

"You piece of shit!" The sheriff was screaming as the two deputies were pulling him away. "I'm gonna beat the crap out of you, you little bastard!" The sheriff's ranting carried throughout the station, hard concrete block walls making a perfect echo chamber. So it was no surprised that Sam could still hear him as he slowly sat back up.

The numb throbbing in his cheek had begun to turn into a dull ache, then more painful throbbing, so Sam cupped his cheek. He knew that there was blood in his mouth, the sick coppery taste making him swallow a few time with a wince.

"You know, you're lucky that he didn't take you head off..." Sam looked over to the door, then groaned. He managed to push himself up into a chair, the stars still swirling around his head from the punch.

"Yeah, well, someone should tell him to do something about those anger issues..." Sam shot back, his tone shifting from confidant and slightly condescending to down right spiteful.

"Come on now Sammie..." Sam winced at the nickname, glaring at Rachel as she continued. "Showing up in the last part of an investigation, telling the police that you had inside information about the killing, and then flat out pushing every button you could on the sheriff. You were asking for it."

"What the hell do you care anyway Rachel?" The question was more snipant then he had intended, but he didn't try to save face. "I thought you were still working with John on the case in Spokane."

"She was..." John said as he stepped into view. "Until we got a call that he had already moved." Sam mentally cursed himself, then cursed out loud.

"You know, that whole appearing out of nowhere bit is more aggravating then cool by now." John smiled pleasantly, clearly amused with his successful irritation of Sam. "But it never fails to earn you points on the weird-creep-o-meeter."

John's reply was cut off when one of the deputies that had dragged the sheriff from the room came storming back in.

"Do you have some kind of death wish?" He nearly shouted, his face red. "I stuck my neck out and told the sheriff to come and talk to you because you said you had information on the case. And instead of just telling him what you knew, you piss him off until he nearly kills you."

Sam could barely hold back a smirk, the deputy's shaking voice and trembling face actually quite amusing. The deputy could tell that he was amused though.

"You really think it's funny to tell the sheriff that you know where his brother's body is?"

Sam sat silently for a moment, his face loosing all expression. He looked over to the two F.B.I. agents, then back to the deputy.

"Brother?"

Chapter 6

"You mean you didn't know?" John was staring at Sam with a little bit of curiosity. "You, the one who's been giving us all the information when we're stuck in a dead spot in the investigations, didn't know that little jewel?"

Sam wasn't in the least bit happy with the situation, but he wasn't going to let his predicament lead to an 'I told you so' from John. The F.B.I. agent had warned him time and again that showing up during an investigation with seemingly no connection but having all the answers could lead him to trouble.

"It's not like it was tattooed to the sheriff's forehead or something." Rachel defended as she walked over and lifted Sam's chin to look at the clear indentation of where Mike's fist had left it's mark. Sam shrugged off her hand, not wanting the attention. He got to his feet quickly, making a small show of dusting off his cloths.

"So, how many does this make now?" John asked, grabbing a chair from the table and sitting backwards in it, his eyes on Sam.

"More then I care to think about." Was the sighed response. Carla finally decided to make her presence known.

"And just what the hell do you know about all this?" Sam and John both chuckled as Rachel walked over and stood next to John. Carla looked between the three, a bit confused at what was just so funny.

"I guess that I should have been a bit more thorough in my showing of the victim tapes..." John answered. "Sam here...is our killers first victim.

"Just let me go dammit!" The sheriff finally managed to pull himself free of his deputy's grip, shoving one back as he regained his balance. The two deputies that had dragged him away stood ready in case he tried to make a break back for the interrogation room to continue with Sam's beating.

"Sheriff.." One of the deputies started.

"I'm fine!" Mike shouted again, visibly shaking in frustration. He hadn't planned to hit the man he had just met, but he couldn't help wanting to kill the guy for his brazen attitude towards his brother's death. He made a move to go back to the room, but both deputies stopped him.

"I don't think that it'd be a good idea for you to go back in there until you calm down, sheriff." Mike looked between the two, his eyes like swords cutting through them. Finally, he gave a deep sigh.

"Look, I'm not going to attack him again alright, but I want to know what the son of a bitch knows." The two deputies looked between each other, then finally parted to let him through. Mike gave them both deep glares before calmly walking back to the interrogation room.

"What the hell do you mean, 'First victim?' Carla stared at Sam in almost awe as he walked over and resumed his position against the wall.

"Simple enough to understand I'd think..." Carla didn't bother getting irritated with Rachel's slightly condescending tone, but still waited for an answer.

"I was his first experiment in destroying people."

"I'd forgotten your theatrical side." John joked, earning an elbow to the shoulder from Rachel. Carla looked around the room, not really looking at anything in particular. It wasn't quite shock or awe that she felt. Just some kind of overwhelmed that had her in disbelief.

"So where the hell is his body?" The four of them jumped slightly when the sheriff stormed back into the room, Sam pushing himself off the wall to be better prepared to defend himself if necessary. "Well?" Mike demanded again. Sam looked over to John and Rachel, trying to decided if he should tell or not, then back to the sheriff when their looks didn't give him any indication.

"He's over in the office of a warehouse on the old Hillinger road off route 3." The sheriff nodded and called for a deputy, giving him instructions to prepare the sheriff's cruiser and have a unit ready to go and collect his brother.

"If he is there..." The sheriff growled back at Sam without looking in his direction. "Then you will have a hell of a lot of explaining to do."

With that, he stormed out of the room, Carla wondering if she should go after him. She wondered if it was a good idea at all that Mike was going in the first place, but finally decided that there wasn't really anything she could do to console him. He definitely wasn't going to wait while the others went and collected his brother's body, so she decided to be ready for him when he came back.

"I think we should move to the conference room." John offered, grunting slightly as he stood back up. "It'll make the explanation a lot more simple."