Eddie explained how Gabby's abduction had occurred to Terry over the phone, but nothing made sense to her. All he had to do was get Gabby and leave the safe house. It didn't sound like a big problem, so what had gone wrong? Ethan was looking worriedly at her and trying to keep his anxiety at bay.

"It happened in the blink of an eye. I went inside to get her teddy bear. And when I came back. . ." His voice diminished. He couldn't bring himself to say the words.

The news devastated her. She took three minutes to process it and accept that reality was finally closing in on her. This was what she'd feared most, and it had come to pass. Her heart sank. She slumped into the seat, found strength, then said, "Where are you now?"

"At the police station in Virginia. I've already reported her missing to the cops. The sheriff has dispatched a team to search for her."

Terry had trouble focusing as Eddie talked her through what the cops were doing to find her missing daughter. She still couldn't believe someone had kidnapped her daughter from her father.

"Did you see the person who took her?"

"No, but I saw Gabby inside the SUV that brought us to the safe house. I went back to look for the federal agents but nobody was there."

She stifled the urge to break into tears in front of Ethan, but she was emotionally debilitated to worry about what he'd think. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen tears on her face. Terry cried silently.

"I'm truly sorry. I didn't take your advice seriously. I even thought you were being paranoid. I let my guard down." His voice was full of tears and for a moment, she felt sure he'd break down into it.

Terry imagined what he must be going through. His suffering surely was worse than hers. He'd seen his daughter being taken away, and he was also beating himself up for not prioritizing her advice and even doubting her.

"It's not your fault, Ed. I'll call Esther to pick you up. Then we can both go through this together and find our daughter."

She was shocked at how easy it had been to accept what was happening. But then she realized worrying, feeling qualms and tears weren't going to bring Gabby back. Nor give them any closure. Another reason for her calmness was that she suspected Clinton might have taken her daughter as leverage to get to Ethan if the accusations against him were true, which she hoped weren't.

They wrapped up, said their goodbyes and she clicked off. Then she placed another call to her cousin whom she'd constantly kept in touch with through emails. She was happy to hear her voice. Terry told her what was at stake and what she needed from her. As always, her cousin was ready to help wholeheartedly. Terry ended the call and gave Ethan back his phone.

"They kidnapped my daughter," she said in a sad monotonous voice.

Rather than shocking him, the news saddened Ethan and he said genuinely, "I'm sorry."

Terry knew he meant it. Somehow she was beginning to trust this stranger, which felt weird.

"I'm sure it's Clinton." He said it as though it was a fact.

Terry suspected it too, and she hoped her daughter was with him. At least she wouldn't worry she was in danger.

"I thought that too. But what would he gain from kidnapping my daughter?"

He wasted no time in replying to her. "Leverage."

Terry nodded. That was also a possibility she'd considered. Wistfully she said, "I'd die if anything happens to her."

Ethan didn't say a word. He felt sure he'd have done the same if Ronnie had been kidnapped. Fatherhood had made him understand the fear of losing a son or daughter. "It won't get to that. I'll help you find your daughter. But first, I need to call someone."

#. #. #

Before predawn, the cabin was swarming with U.S. Marshals-a team that had been put together by the director herself in search of Ethan. In the living room of the cabin, a group of technicians had set up a computer system on the table. Four serious-looking men and women moved around, scouring the place. They dusted walls for fingerprints, collected blood samples, and took photos from various angles.

Shelby Willet, Director of the U.S. Marshals Service was upstairs looking at the picture of Ethan's family when an agent came to inform her they were getting a signal off Ethan's lawyer's phone. After digging up information from the web, Shelby was able to find the name of the attorney who defended Ethan.

When Ethan went on the lam, she'd searched high and low for a way to make contact with him. But the seasoned commander had been hiding from the public so well, using burners and changing them regularly, which made her quest for the fugitive seem futile with every second that passed by. Then finally she decided to drop that angle because if Ethan didn't want to be found, then they wouldn't find him.

That's when she picked up another angle to work from. His lawyer. Shelby had instructed agents to surveil the lawyer and report anything that would lead her to the outlaw. For two days, Dan Brown's house in Charleston had been heavily put on surveillance. They followed him as he commuted on daily basis, even broke into his house for evidence, and they finally obtained his phone number. Shelby was certain it was only a matter of time before he or Ethan made contact. And now was that time she'd been desperately waiting for.

She dropped the portrait on the bureau and followed the agent downstairs, her ponytail swinging wildly at her back. They huddled around the technicians. One of them said, "I'm narrowing down his location using triangulation."

"Good. Can you tap his phone? I want to hear what they're saying," she said hastily and reached for the headphone.

With a nod, he typed with the speed of lightning. Whatever he was doing to make her request possible seemed to be taking forever, and Shelby started to lose the little patience she had left. The clacking of keypads worsened her condition. She had to close this chapter of the story and soon to move on. She couldn't do that when Ethan was on the loose. Finally, a voice materialized on the channel. She recognized it and quickly put on the headphones.

"Dan, how're you? It's been a while."

"My God, Ethan. Is that really you? Where have you been?"

"Hiding."

"With the Judge? Don't tell me you've killed her already."

He retorted, "I'm not a murderer, and you of all people should know."

"Damn, you're not. The whole of South Carolina thinks you are, and if I didn't know better, I'd have thought so too. What were you thinking kidnapping Judge Terry? That's felony."

Right now he was too agitated about the disappearance of Terry's daughter to worry his head with the legal ramifications of his actions. He had already been sentenced to death row once. What retribution was worse than death?

"She's fine."

"I don't believe you."

He wasn't surprised to hear this. And he didn't exercise hurt that his friend mistrusted him.

"You want to hear for yourself?" he said in a terse voice. "Then be my guest."

He passed the phone to Terry who was grieving silently.

"Your Honor, are you all right?" Dan asked with all the seriousness he could summon.

The formality in his voice sounded a bit awkward to her. She didn't even feel like a judge who had the power to pass sentences to defendants. For the first time, she'd felt what it was like to be unfamous and susceptible to threat, all thanks to Ethan for kidnapping her from her house.

"Terry's okay," she said. "And I'm fine, Dan. He didn't hurt me."

They shared a tense look. She meant it literally. Terry remembered how he'd broken into her house this morning, scared the crap out of her, and taken her away at gunpoint. In some instances, he had inflicted emotional pain on her, like when he bound her to the chair, but not too extreme he'd hurt her physically. He'd also fed her like a baby and made her take a shower. If she was asked to describe how she felt around him in one word, she'd use safe and not regret it.

"I'm glad to hear you're okay. I was worried about you. Everyone is."

"You shouldn't be. Ethan is a good man. That's what they don't know. I believe he was framed."

Ethan was astonished to hear this. If the Judge thought he was innocent, then it was only a matter of time before everyone thought so too.

"Take care of yourself, Your. . . Terry."

"I will." She returned the phone to him and he put it to his ear.

"There, Dan. You good?"

"Yes. . .and I'm sorry. I know I-I. . .shouldn't have. . ."

"It's okay. Like you said, people are told what they want to hear, not what they want to know."

"I need your help. They've got Terry's daughter."

"Who?"

"The people who framed me."

"I want a name so I can look into it."

"James Clinton."

A silence fell for about five seconds, then he said, "You sure?"

"A hundred percent."

"You're accusing an attorney general of felony and you don't get cold feet."

"That man is shady. The bad thing is that he's very good at hiding it from the public and everyone." He redirected the position of the phone. "This is where the story gets interesting. He assigned Terry my case and told her bullshit that I was a lousy commander. You need to check this guy out."

"It will be difficult. He's too powerful."

"Then we must act with caution. I don't know how he fits in, but I think he's in cahoots with Admiral Peterson."

"Well," he sighed, "that's one hell of an accusation. Do you have any evidence?"

"No, but I'm working on it. The allegations. I have to tell you but not on this phone. Someone might be listening as we speak. I'll call you back on another line. At the moment look into Clinton and find out if he's got anything to do with the kidnapping. I'm headed to Virginia."

"Will do. Stay safe."

"You too."

He clicked off, disassembled the phone, and hurled it through the window. He looked at Terry. "I trust Dan. He'll get us something."

"I hope so."

Shelby pulled off the headphones as she watched the screen of the monitor go blank. A pop-up displaying SIGNAL LOST appeared with a pinging sound that irritated her.

"We lost signal."

She said, "Yes. I can see that."

Shelby walked off to the shuttered windows, violently pulled back the drapes, and stared out. The dark sky was clearing off, and already, she saw a thin layer of cloud scudding across it. They'd spent the night hunting down the fugitive only for him to elude them again. There was nothing he'd said that she didn't already know. Like Ethan, she too wanted evidence. Hard evidence to prove all the daunting accusations. At least, she and Ethan had one thing in common. Get to the bottom of this mess.

"If he makes contact again, tell me," she instructed one of the agents.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And protect the Judge's daughter. She's too vulnerable."