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2018-06-13
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2023-11-26
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Psychic Investigations

Summary:

A missing boy. An unrelenting reporter. And a very reluctant psychic.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

For the last two months, I’ve been immersed in the fascinating world of psychic investigations. Full disclosure: I love having my future read. I’ve probably visited every fortune teller and tarot card reader in the Pacific Northwest area. But I’ve always considered it to be more of a fun past time rather than having any real merit. And if some of my readings have been right one, that’s probably just luck, right?

When my producer Nic approached me about doing a podcast about a renowned psychic investigator, I jumped at the chance. This wasn’t just some phony fortune teller set up in a tent on the local funfair. This was a well-respected academic who has worked with everyone from local police to the FBI. But then things… changed. The reality is, this podcast started as one thing, but very quickly became something else. At a certain point, my producers and I had to make a decision. Do we stick with our original vision, or do we follow the interesting, confusing, and occasionally dangerous story that had started spilling out around the edges? After numerous lengthy discussions, we decided that we would let things play out exactly as they happen to us.

This is Psychic Investigations. I’m Alex Reagan. Stay with us.

Chapter 2: A Tale of Two Psychics - part 1

Chapter Text

"Most people think of being psychic as switching between channels on tv or searching on google. Like pressing a button and the image will just appear. Reality is much more complicated and… strenuous than that."

Alex smiled and nodded encouragingly at Braun, to convey that he should keep talking. Tannis Braun was one of America’s most noted psychics and parapsychologists. He had been employed by police forces all over California and Oregon and even the FBI to assist in missing person cases. He was also a bestselling author and the founder of the Braun Institute for Higher Learning.

In other words, he was more than comfortable being interviewed and spoke with confidence and conviction. Personally, Alex found his lavish charm and unrelenting positivity a little hokey, but there was no doubt that it would go over great with their audience.

"It is more like dreaming," Braun continued to explain. "You’re aware of what’s happening, but you can’t always control where the dream takes you or even understand exactly what it means. Of course, as with everything you get better the more you practice."

"So how does this work for finding missing people? How can you ensure that you see what you need to see to find someone?"

"The unfortunate truth is of course that it doesn’t always work. I try to establish some sort of connection with the person. I usually start by meeting their loved ones, those closest to the missing. I ask to see photographs, their diaries, personal belongings… anything to get a sense of who they are as a person."

"When did you first start to realize that you have this… gift?" Alex asked, in her best professional voice.

"When I was three."

"Seems very young," Alex remarked, trying to get him to elaborate without leading the conversation too much.

"My grandmother had the gift and she recognized it in me. Her support and guidance helped me unlock my abilities at a very young age. I’m a strong believer that everyone has this gift to one degree or another. Must people never get access it, and a lot of the people that do are taught to suppress their abilities because of the judgement and ridicule from society."

"I’m guessing you come across a lot of people who doesn’t believe you actually have these abilities? How do you deal with people who accuses you of being a fraud?"

Braun shrugged his shoulders, as if people questioning him didn’t bother him in the slightest. "My record speaks for itself. In the last 15 years I’ve successfully helped law enforcement to locate more than a dozen missing people."

"Would you mind showing us and our audience exactly what you’re capable of?" Alex asked, ready to move the interview into the next segment.

"Not at all."

Alex reached out to turn of the recorder and signaled to her producers that it was time to begin setting up the equipment.

"It’s going to take use a couple of minutes to set up all the cameras. Please, feel free to help yourself to another cup of coffee while you wait," she told Braun.

Braun had appeared in a PNWS episode about psychics back in 1993, where he had demonstrated his abilities to a team of researches. Truth be told, Alex had been more than impressed, not to mention a little awestruck, when watching the clip. But she wanted to put Braun abilities to the test for herself, to make sure that there was no question to its credibility.

"What do we do if this doesn’t work?" Nic questioned, clearly worried that this was going to mess up the entire show.

Alex merely shrugged. "I suppose we could always change the name of the podcast to ‘Exposing a psychic fraud’."

Braun’s return to the room put a halt to whatever else objections Nic was about to voice. Instead he merely shot her a warning look as he moved to help the interns set up the cameras.

"Everything alright?" Braun inquired, no doubt having picked up on Nic’s less than subtle exchange.

"Absolutely. Thanks for agreeing to do this. I’m guessing you get asked to prove your abilities more often than you’d like," Alex apologized.

"I don’t mind. I understand that some people need to see, or experience, these things for themselves to truly open their mind to it." Braun leaned back in his chair as he took a sip of his coffee.

"You think my mind isn’t open?" Alex asked, genuinely curious of the answer.

"I think you still have doubts. I would too in your shoes." Braun smiled, clearly not bothered by her skepticism. Alex had the distinct impression that very few things could get under his skin.

"We’re ready when you are," Nic informed them.

Alex signaled for Nic to begin filming as Braun put on the blindfold one of the interns handed him. There was one camera aimed directly at Braun and another camera behind Alex who was going to show the audience if Braun answered correctly or not.

"Okay, so we are going to start with something fairly straight forward. This is an ordinary deck of cards. My producer Nic is going to shuffle it," Nic put his hands in view of the camera as he shuffled the cards and then handed them to Alex, "and I’ll pick out three random cards," Alex explained, as she picked three cards and put them face down on the table.

"Can you tell me what the cards are?"

Braun didn’t hesitate as he answered, "Four of Spades, Seven of Hearts, Eight of Diamonds."

Alex slowly turned over each card.

Four of Spades.

Seven of Hearts.

Eight of Diamonds.

Alex could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. Nic’s mouth was frozen wide open in an expression of complete astonishment. The only person who was unaffected was Braun himself, who was waiting patiently for Alex to continue.

"I’m going to draw something on a piece of paper," Alex informed him, happy that her voice didn’t give away her excitement. Her drawing skills were somewhat limited, but she had doodled on enough textbooks to be able to produce a detailed drawing that the audience would be able to discern what it was supposed to be. "Can you tell me what the drawing is?"

Braun smiled, "A cat, and a pretty cute one at that."

Alex motioned for Nic to turn off the cameras and told Braun, "You can take your blindfold off."

"How did I do?" Braun inquired with a wide smile, clearly confident that he had aced the test.

"Consider me impressed," Alex declared with a smile of her own.

"That was incredible," Nic chimed in, his earlier worries effectively squashed. "We will put it up on the website the day that the first episode is released."

They were interrupted as Braun’s phone rang, and he excused himself from the room as he took the call.

Nic waited until the door had closed behind him before exclaiming, "Holy shit, that was amazing!"

"It was," Alex agreed.

"I mean, there is no way he could have faked that," Nic stated. He then seemed to doubt himself as he hesitantly asked, "Right?"

"I don’t see how."

"Soo… you think he’s really psychic?"

"I don’t know, I mean…" she searched for the words to express her inner turmoil. While she wasn’t prepared to say she was completely convinced, she couldn’t disregard what she had just witnessed. "I don’t know how else to explain it."

"You think he can tell us tomorrows lottery numbers?" Nic joked.

"Afraid not." Braun declared as he came back into the room. "That was the Los Gatos Police Department, they have asked for my help in the search of a missing boy. I’m taking the first plane out tomorrow morning. I asked them to book an extra seat, in case you would like to tag along?"

"Yes! Absolutely, that would be fantastic," Alex rushed to accept his offer.

"Excellent. Our plane leaves tomorrow morning at 9:30."

"I’ll see you tomorrow then."

She managed to contain herself until Braun was out of earshot, then she let out a squeal of excitement. "Can you believe this?! I’m going to be covering an actual psychic as he helps the police with a missing person case."

"Actual psychic? Ten seconds ago you were still skeptic about him."

"I’m just excited. Nic, if Braun finds this missing boy that could bring loads of attention to the podcast. This could be the biggest story since Serial."

"I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself," Nic cautioned.

"You worry too much Nic," she told him, with a gentle smile. When he still looked doubtful she tried to reassure him, "I have a good feeling about this."

"Now you’re psychic?" he joked, which earned him a light slap on the shoulder.

She knew Nic was just being cautious, but she also knew that this had the potential to be something groundbreaking. And her instinct was telling her that this this was going to be their best show ever.


"I was late picking him up," Maria Torres explained with a quivering voice. "He knows he’s supposed to wait in front of the school if I’m not there and to never wander off on his own."

Sebastian Torres had gone missing three days ago. The school security cameras showed Sebastian exiting the school but not where he went or with who and the teacher hadn’t seen anything suspicious. It wasn’t until Maria Torres had arrived five minutes later to pick him up that anyone realized that something was wrong and the police was notified. An AMBER alert had been issued immediately but so far there hadn’t been any leads. 

"A teacher follows all the students outside to make sure they get on their way safely and there was nobody left when she went back inside. We’ve talked to him about never going anywhere with a stranger. I don’t understand-"

"He’s only six years old. A friendly stranger with a puppy or an ice-cream would be enough to lure him away," Robert Torres interrupted his wife in a hard voice. It was the first words he had spoken since they got there.

"I would like to take a look at Sebastian’s room if that is okay. It will help me get in contact with his spirit," Braun explained.

Mrs. Torres’ face went completely white at his words. "Spirit. You mean he’s…"

"No," Braun was quick to reassure her. "Our spirit is the very essence of us as human beings. It will help to lead me towards Sebastian."

Robert Torres muttered something under his breath that Alex couldn’t make out but judging by his expression it wasn’t anything favorable. 

Mrs. Torres showed them both to Sebastian’s room and excused herself. It looked like your average six-year-old boys room. The only thing that seemed out of place was the tear stained pillow on the bed. Alex has a sudden vision of Maria Torres lying on the bed, hugging the pillow as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Needing to distract herself from the sudden lump in her throat she turned her attention back to Braun. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"Like I mentioned… I need to forge a connection with Sebastian, with his very essence. You would be surprised how well you can get to know a person just by observing. The better I can get to know him the easier it will be to find him."

Alex observed him for a couple of minutes as he slowly made his way through Sebastian’s room. He gave everything in the room his complete attention, from the drawings hanging on the walls to the toys scattered across the floor. It was fascinating to watch, but since he did it all in silence it wouldn’t make for any content for the podcast.

Alex eventually opted to leave him to it and went back out to the kitchen. She took a seat at the kitchen table and started to write down some notes of what she wanted to talk about on the podcast.

"Ms. Reagan?" Mrs. Torres tentative voice interrupted her.

"Please, call me Alex."

Mrs. Torres took a seat across from her, looking anxiously over her shoulders as if worried that someone would overhear what she was about to say. "Do you know him well? Mr. Braun?"

"I’ve only known him a couple of days."

"My husband thinks this is all humbug and a waste of time. I know he blames me. But you think it’s for real? That he really is psychic?"

It wasn’t often that Alex was at a loss for words, but faced with this woman’s obvious need for hope she found herself struggling with how to respond. She didn’t want to give her false hope, but would it necessarily be false? Braun certainly has some sort of gift and he had been successful in helping the police find missing people before. "From what I’ve seen… I can’t explain it, but he definitely has abilities that makes him special. Whether he is psychic or not, I think he will be very helpful in helping the police find your son."

"I don’t know what I’ll do if he…" she trailed of, no doubt lost in the horrible possibility that she would never see her son alive again. 

Alex was more than relieved when Braun entered the kitchen, drawing Mrs. Torres attention. He gave a slight nod towards Alex, which she took as a hint that she should start recording.

"Maria." He took Mrs. Torres’ hands in his own and urged her to stand up. "I can feel Sebastian’s spirit. Wherever your son is, he is alive and well. I promise, I will do whatever I can to make sure he will be back home with you as soon as possible."

Mrs. Torres had been trying to hold herself together since they got there, but at Braun’s words her resolve began to falter and tears started to stream down her face. "Thank you."

Alex once again found herself choking up and busied herself with her recorder. She was here to do her job and so far Braun was delivering a stellar performance. She just hoped that Braun would be able to make good on his promise and help bring Sebastian back to his family.

Chapter 3: A Tale of Two Psychics - part 2

Chapter Text

Her phone ringing woke Alex up at 5:30 the next morning. It was Braun, wondering if she wanted to come along to ‘follow the trail of Sebastian’s spirit’ as he called it. Half an hour later and she was seated in the backseat of a police car driving through the streets of Los Gatos. Braun was sitting in the front passenger seat, directing the officer who was driving the vehicle..

At first it seemed like there wasn’t much rhyme or reason to Braun’s directions, as they drove back and forth across the city. But eventually Braun told the officer to drive west out of the city. After almost an hour Braun called the car to a halt, just outside of Portola State Park.

Alex had kept quiet for most of the drive, not wanting to interrupt whatever it was Braun was doing. But as they began hiking through the park she took out her equipment and started recording.

"Do you think Sebastian is here somewhere? In the park?"

"It’s one of the possibilities."

"What made you decide to come here?"

"As we drove east my connection with Sebastian began to diminish, when we drove west the connection became stronger. This place… this place is important. Sebastian wanted me to come here."

"You seem very… confident," Alex remarked. During their interview the other day he had seemed much more obscure about how his abilities worked.

"Sebastian’s spirit is very strong. I can feel him reaching out, leading me towards him."

"Is that unusual?"

"Children are often easier to connect with than adults. Their minds are less closed off, less guarded. But Sebastian is… different."

"Different how?" Alex asked, but Braun didn’t answer. Instead he came to an abrupt stop and closed his eyes, as if he was listening for something. "Braun?"

"This way," he declared, then abruptly took off into the woods.

Alex could barely keep up with him as they rushed through bushes and shrubs. When Braun came to another abrupt stop she almost crashed into him. Then she saw it, under a bush and half covered in mud, a small teddy bear. Braun kneeled down next to it, inspecting it closely.

"Do you think-"

"It’s Sebastian’s," he stated with certainty, cutting of her question.

It only took a couple of minutes for the officer to establish that Sebastian indeed had had a teddy bear with him to school that matched the description of the one Braun found. Within an hour the park was sealed off and swarming with cops, both Alex and Braun forbidden to go anywhere near it.

"What happens now?" she asked Braun, as they were waiting for someone to give them a ride back to the hotel.

"We wait, let the police do their job and sees what happens. It will probably take a couple of days until the police request my help again. I’ll see if we can get a flight back this afternoon."

"That’s it? Shouldn’t you? I mean…"

Braun laughed at her ramblings. "It can be frustrating. But I can only do what the police allow me to do. With some luck, Sebastian will soon be found and there will be no more need for me to help."

Frustrating didn’t even begin to cover it. Braun had managed to accomplish more in the last 24 hours than the police had did since Sebastian had gone missing, and now they were just supposed to sit back and wait.

While Braun booked them a flight back to Seattle, she made a quick call to Nic to update him on the situation and let him know she would be back in the office tomorrow.



"Welcome back," Nic greeted her as she entered the office.

"Hey. Did you listen to the recordings I emailed you?"

"I did," he responded, his voice somber. But Alex was still too fired up about yesterday’s events to even notice her friend’s subdued mood.

"Nic, it was incredible. It wasn’t even as if Braun just happened to find it, he went straight to it. And the park is almost 20 miles away from where Sebastian disappeared, I mean-"

"Alex," Nic interrupted her.

She finally noticed his worried expression and that he was fidgeting with his hands in a way that he only did when he was nervous. "What’s wrong?"

"Braun’s agent called this morning. He said Braun is quitting the podcast."

"What?!" At first she almost thought this was Nic’s idea of a joke, but his demeanor made it clear that he was serious. "Why?"

"He said that Braun had to many things on his plate right now and the podcast was taking up more of his time than he had expected."

"That’s crazy! Except for the first interview I’ve just been following him around as he does his job, it hasn’t taken up any extra time."

This didn’t make any sense. Had she said or done something that offended him? He had seemed like his normal friendly self on the plane back to Seattle, telling her about some of his earlier cases. Something had to have happened after they had said goodbye at the airport, but what could it possibly be that would make him quit without a proper explanation?

"I’m gonna call him."

"I’m not sure that’s such a good idea," Nic interjected.

"Why the hell not?"

"Alex," he said, in a voice she knew all too well. It was his ‘Alex is about to do something unethical and compromise her journalistic integrity’ voice. "If he doesn’t want to do the podcast there is nothing we can do about it. The why doesn’t really matter."

"He could at least have had the decency to tell me himself," she complained, a little hurt that Braun would blow her of without even a proper explanation.

"It’s not the end of the world. We just have to change the direction of the podcast slightly," Nic tried to reassure her.

"Tannis Braun was the whole premise of the podcast."

"So, we change it to a podcast about different paranormal investigators, we can have a new subject every week. We can still use the audio with Braun and make that the first episode. Him finding that teddy bear is still going to make a great story."

"I suppose."

"Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, make it a long weekend. Then we can regroup and begin working on coming up with a new concept for the podcast on Monday."

Alex reluctantly agreed. She knew Nic was only trying to help, and there wasn’t anything she could do right now that she couldn’t do from home. Besides, after the roller coaster of the last few days she could probably use some time to herself.



Alex spent the weekend editing the audio with Braun and searching the web for any update on Sebastian’s case. Several news sites mentioned that the police were currently searching through Portola State Park, but there was no mention of Braun or the teddy bear that he had found.

When she arrived at the office on Monday morning she had made up her mind. With or without Braun she wanted to follow up on Sebastian. The first thing she did was to make a call to the Cupertino Police Department. It took her the better part of an hour, but she was finally allowed to talk with the police chief.

"Ms. Reagan," he greeted her in a stern voice.

"Chief Colins. I was just calling to hear if you could give me an update on Sebastian Torres."

"That’s classified."

"Of course. Are you still searching through Portola State Park? "

"That’s classified," he repeated, his tone making it clear that he wouldn’t budge.

"Right. Can you tell me if Tannis Braun has been asked to come back to help?"

There was a long pause before he answered, "Mr. Braun is no longer working on the Sebastian Torres case."

"What?" That was probably the last thing she had expected him to say. Braun had given the police their first real lead in the case, why would they not want his assistance now. Was this the real reason Braun had dropped out of the podcast?

The police chief hesitated for a moment before elaborating, "I talked to Mr. Braun this morning to request further assistance. He declined, said he had done all he could do and hoped that Sebastian would be found soon. I assumed you were already aware of this."

"No, I-"

"You work for Braun, yes?" he demanded to know, his tone taking on slightly more suspicious tone.

"I was interviewing him for a podcast, but… Braun has recently ended our collaboration."

"I see," he answered, although Alex had the suspicion that he was as perplexed as her at Braun’s behaviour.

"Thank you for your time," she ended the call, her thoughts going in a million different directions. Cleary there was something weird going on here, something that had made Braun decide to abandon all his current commitments.

She was out the door within seconds, glad that it was still early enough that the office was mostly empty. Nic could say what he wanted about her journalistic integrity, she needed some answers and there was only one person who would be able to provide them.



Braun was currently working on a three-year project with Seattle University. The school had him set up in a townhouse just outside of campus.

As Alex made her way up the stairs her mind was racing with possible explanations. Maybe he had a vision that police were going to find Sebastian in the park? Maybe he was terminally ill? Or maybe he was just a big fraud. Except Alex didn’t actually think he was. As insane as it felt to claim that he was really psychic, everything he had done up to this point had made him seem legit. And if he was faking it and worried about being exposed he certainly wouldn’t have had to agree to do the podcast to begin with.

She stopped in front of the door to gather her thoughts, then knocked decisively.

Braun opened the door, almost doing a double take when he saw her. "Alex?"

"You seem surprised. As a psychic I figured you would have seen that I was coming," she quipped, not bothering to hide her displeasure.

"Not quite how it works," he told her with a smirk.

He took a step back and gestured for her to step inside. "I believe my agent had talked to your producer?"

"He did," Alex confirmed, taking in her surroundings.

"Please, sit down," Braun invited, taking a seat on the couch. He waited for Alex to sit down as well before saying, "I’m sorry if my dropping out has caused you any trouble, I know it was quite sudden."

"I understand, you’re a very busy man," she stated, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible as she added, "especially with the Sebastian Torres case."

Braun looked at her in silence for a moment, his piercing gaze making it feel as if he could see right through her. "I’m no longer working with the police on that case. But you already knew that."

Alex squirmed slightly in her seat, for the first time feeling uneasy about Braun’s uncanny abilities. But she wouldn’t be discouraged now, at the very least he owed her a proper explanation. "Why?" she asked, needing to understand his reasoning.

He sighed deeply at her question. "When I agreed to do your podcast I-"

"I’m not asking about the podcast." Alex interrupted him. "Why are you not helping the police with the Sebastian Torres case?"

"I’ve done all I can do," he told her, carefully avoiding eye contact. For the first time she got the distinct impression that he was lying to her.

"What is that supposed to mean? Sebastian still hasn’t been found."

"I wish I could do more, I really do, but…"

"But what?" she pressed, not willing to let it go until she got an actual answer.

"There are forces at work, dark forces that are keeping me from finding Sebastian."

She regarded him intently for a long moment. He seemed earnest, but as far as Alex was concerned he was fraud, psychic or not. "You promised Maria Torres that you would do whatever you could to help bring her son back to her," Alex reminded him, the image of Maria’s hopeful expression etched permanently into her mind. "I promised her that you were going to help."

"I’m sorry." he apologized, his demeanor suddenly that of a man defeated.

"That’s it? You’re sorry?"

He only looked at her regretfully in response. It was becoming increasingly clear that he was not going to change his mind. Suddenly she felt utterly defeated and found herself fighting back the urge to scream, or perhaps cry. With one last resentful look at Braun she got up and walked out without a word.

She was halfway down the stairs when Braun called out, "Alex!"

For a split second she considered just ignoring him, but her curiosity got the better of her. She turned around to see Braun standing in the doorway, regarding her solemnly.

He took a deep breath before he spoke, as if unsure that he should be saying anything at all, "If you want to find Sebastian… contact Richard Strand."

"Who’s Richard Strand?"

"Goodbye Alex," Braun responded, stepping back inside and closing the door.

Chapter 4: Hanging By A Strand

Chapter Text

When Braun had told her to contact Richard Strand, Alex never could have imagined that it would be such a difficult task.

In the last week she had called both his work number and his personal number more than a dozen times. She had talked to his assistant, his publisher and even his landlord. But getting to talk to the man himself appeared impossible.

Nic had dug up as much information on Strand as he could. She knew he was born and raised in Washington, currently residing in Chicago. He had a daughter that lived in California. He’d been married, but his wife had gone missing in 2005 and had never been found. He had degrees in Religion, Mythology and Psychology from Yale. And she knew that he had worked with the police on several missing person cases, the most high profile being the Ashley Tyler case in 1997. Tannis Braun had also worked on that case.

Unlike Braun however, Strand had never talked about what exactly he did for the police. He had published several books, but they were all about his academic research. He had opened the Strand Institute in 1999, but it had been inactive since shortly after his wife disappeared.

There were no interviews, he had no social media accounts and the only picture Nic had been able to find was a publicity shoot were his face was half covered with a book.

Alex had tried contacting Braun again, but he wasn’t taking her calls and according to the University he would be continuing his work with them from his personal residence in New York.

In other words, she had no idea where to go from her.

She was interrupted in her self-wallowing by Nic softly knocking on her office door.

"Listen, Alex," he said in a soothing voice, as he took a seat next to her. "I know you really want to continue on with the Sebastian Torres case, but I think we need to start looking at other options. The first episode is all ready to go and right now we don’t even have an outline for a second episode. Maybe… maybe this podcast isn’t going to work out right now."

"You want to pull the plug?"

"I just think we should consider that maybe we need to go in another direction. We can release the episode we have as a standalone on Pacific Northwest Stories and that way you can follow up on the story if… well if there ever is anything to follow up on."

Nic must have seen the disappointment on her face, because he added, "I tell you what, Paul and Terry will be gone this week. We’ll have a meeting with them on Monday and decide what we want to do."

"In other words, I have one week to come up with a second episode," Alex deduced.

"Honestly Alex, I don’t see what else you could possibly do at this point."

But she wasn’t willing to give up yet, not until she had exhausted every avenue. "If I get an outline for another episode before Monday, we go one with the podcast. Deal?"

"Alex-" he started to object but cut himself off when he saw her determined expression. "Fine."

"Great. Then I need to book a plane ticket to Chicago."

"Chicago? Alex-"

"I need to talk to Richard Strand," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I’ll be back on Monday."



Alex knocked on the door for the third time. She knew he must be home since his car was parked outside and she could see the lights spilling out from under the door. She knocked for a fourth time. If he thought she was just going to give up and go away, then he was in for a disappointment.

"Can I help you?" a deep voice from behind her asked.

She turned around and found herself looking up into cool blue eyes that were observing her intently. The man before her was tall, good looking and carried himself with a confidence that seemed to radiate off him. "Dr. Strand?"

"Alex Reagan, I assume?"

Her shock must have shown on her face, since he went on to explain, "I recognized your voice from the eleven voicemails you’ve left me."

"You got those?" she retorted, a little sarcastically.

"Yes," he answered, clearly indifferent to her scorn. "I don’t give interviews."

"I’m not after an interview… exactly. I want your help on a missing person case."

Dr. Strand regarded her in silence for a moment, then said in an odd tone, "I suggest you try the police."

"The police is already working on the case."

"And what make you think I would be able to help find someone if the police can’t?"

"Tannis Braun recommended you," she casually disclosed.

That certainly got his attention. His body went ridged and his eyes narrowed, studying her in a way that reminded her of a predator sizing up a prey. "Let’s talk inside."

Strand didn’t wait for her to respond, simply entering his apartment and leaving the front door open for her to follow.

She hesitated for a moment, following a man she had just met into his apartment didn’t seem like a wise idea. She could basically hear Nic berating her for doing something so reckless, but she had come too far to give up now.

His apartment was modern but minimalistic. It reminded Alex more of a showpiece one would see in a designer magazine than an actual home. She followed him into the kitchen where they sat down at the kitchen table. Alex took out her reorder as she asked, "Would it be okay if I record our conversation?"

"No." Strand announced, his tone short. "What exactly is this… podcast, of yours about?"

Reluctantly she put her recorder back in her bag. As much as she wanted to get this conversation on tape, she figured she had a better chance of convincing him to work with her if she didn’t push it. "Originally it was going to focus on Tannis Braun’s work as a psychic. He was assisting the police in their search of a missing boy, Sebastian Torres."

"Was?"

She debated with herself over how much to tell him. If he was friends with Braun it was possible that he knew more than he was letting on. Then again, she hardly knew herself why Braun had quit working on the case. "Braun had to end is work with the police and the podcast for… personal reasons," she explained, opting to remain vague. And it wasn’t exactly a lie.

"I see," he sneered, clearly not satisfied with that explanation. "I’m afraid I can’t help you Ms. Reagan. My days of consulting for the police is long over."

"Why?"

Strand smirked slightly. "Personal reasons."

"Are you psychic?"

He scoffed out loud at the question. "No."

"Why would Braun suggest I contact you then?" Alex challenged, becoming annoyed with his haughty demeanor.

"I have no idea."

"What did you do when you consulted for the police? Why would they hire you if you’re not psychic?" Alex pressed, refusing to let herself become discouraged.

Instead of answering her question, he turned the attention on to her, "Tell me Ms. Reagan, why are you so invested in this? I’m sure you could find another subject for your podcast."

"A six-year-old boy is missing Dr. Strand. I want to make sure he is found and reunited with his family."

"You’re assuming he’s still alive."

"Braun seemed positive that he was."

"And yet Braun is no longer working on the case," Strand pointed out. "While the boy’s disappearance is unfortunate, it is not my responsibility to make sure that he is found."

"But you could help find him?" Alex insisted.

Dr. Strand seemed to have reached the limit of his patience, standing up and straightening his jacket as he declared, "I believe this conversation has come to an end. I hope this will put a stop to your pestering of me and my acquaintances."

He then walked back out into the hallway, leaving Alex no choice but to once again follow him. 

She was starting to feel desperate to get him to change his mind. Desperate enough to say, "You have a daughter. I’m sure you can imagine the horror this family is going through. If you have the ability to help, surely it is your moral obligation to do so."

Strands voice was ice cold when he spoke, "Get out of my home."

Realizing she had crossed the line and there was no way she could redeem the situation now Alex quickly left the apartment, Strand slamming the door shut behind her.



After a restless night’s sleep Alex was once again sitting in an airport waiting for her flight to be announced.

She made a call to Dr Strand’s office and left a message apologizing for her remark yesterday and assuring him this would be the last he heard from her. She then called Nic to let him know she was on her way back. He berated her for a good minute about her, as he called it, impulsive and ill-conceived behaviour.

She was able to cut the conversation short when her flight was finally announced. While she was standing in line to board her cellphone rang.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Reagan? It’s Richard Strand."

She almost dropped her phone she was so taken aback. "Dr. Strand…"

"I’ve decided I’ll take a look at the Sebastian Torres case, see if I can be of any assistance." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "That is, if you still want my help?"

It took her a moment to be able to process what he had just said. "Yes. That would… that would be great."

"I have some things I need to take care of first. I’ll meet you in Los Gatos on Thursday, I want to take a look at the place where the boy was last seen."

Making a split-second decision, Alex quickly exited the line and told Strand, "I’m still in Chicago, would you have time for a quick interview? Give some background information for the podcast."

A long silence followed her question, until he finally answered, "I have time tomorrow afternoon. Stop by my office around four o’clock. I take it you already know the address?"

"I do," she confirmed.

"I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodbye."

"Dr. Strand."

"Yes?"

She didn’t want to push her luck and risk him changing his mind, but her curiosity got the better of her. "What made you change your mind?"

"Personal reasons."



"I’m not psychic," Strand stated, his deep voice assertive. "There is no such thing. The word ‘psychic’ was conceived to describe people with abilities that science is yet to understand. This doesn’t mean these abilities are supernatural or can’t be explained with science, only that we don’t have the tools we need to do so. Yet."

"But you have these abilities? Abilities that some people would describe as psychic?" Alex questioned, trying to make sense of the enigma that was Richard Strand.

"I can’t predict the future or talk to dead people if that’s what you’re asking," Strand sighed deeply, as if this was a conversation he was tired of having. "What I have is an ability to see connections that most people overlook. It can sometimes appear… extraordinary to people."

"And this is why the police used to hire you as a consultant on missing person cases?"

"Yes."

"What about the Strand Institute? What kind of work did you do there?"

"Primarily we conducted research to better help us understand the science behind these kinds of… abilities that some people have. Trying to develop the tools needed to explain the science behind it."

"People like Tannis Braun?" Alex questioned.

"Among others."

"Why has the institute been inactive for the past 10 years?"

"What exactly does this have to do with Sebastian Torres?" Strand snapped.

She was slightly taken aback by his sudden shift in mood, but kept her voice calm as she explained, "I just want to know more about the man that is going to be the main subject for the podcast, as does our audience."

"Let’s make one thing clear," Strand commanded, looking her straight in the eyes. "I’m here because you’ve asked for my help in locating Sebastian Torres. My personal affairs, past and present, is not your concern."

"But your work is. How do I know that you’re not a charlatan doing this for attention?" Alex challenged, starting to get fed up with his arrogant attitude.

"I can certainly provide you with references if you wish. I would however remind you again that you asked for my help."

"And I’m graceful for your help Dr Strand. But you need to understand that I have a job to do. I promise I won’t ask you about things that aren’t relevant for the podcast, but you need to trust me to know what is relevant and what isn’t."

Strand studied her in silence for a moment, then seemed to relent, "The Strand Institute has been inactive because I decided to shift my focus on to other ventures."

As far as explanations goes, Alex thought that was probably the most elusive answer he could have given. But she decided to let it slide for now and instead asked, "What kind of work have you been doing for the past ten years?"

"Writing mostly. I’ve also been teaching some courses at the University of Chicago."

"Okay. I think that’s all I need for now," she told him and turned off her recorder. "My producer Nic has booked us plane tickets to San Jose for tomorrow."

"I’ve already bought a ticket."

"Well then, you can send the receipt to our office and we will reimburse you for it."

"There is no need for that, I can pay for my own ticket." "I’m sure you can," Alex hissed out through gritted teeth, "but since you’re doing this in collaboration with the podcast, it is our policy to pay for your traveling expenses."

When Strand just sighed deeply in response it was all Alex could do to keep from rolling her eyes.

"Whatever, do as you wish. I’ll see you tomorrow," she told him, hurrying out the door not bothering to wait for his reply. It was just as well that he had his own ticket, the last things she wanted was to have to spend a four-hour flight sitting next to Richard Strand.

Chapter 5: A Red Herring

Chapter Text

If working with Tannis Braun had been a cakewalk, then working with Richard Strand was an uphill battle. Most of her questions were meet with curt responses and deep sighs.

However, what he lacked in charm he made up for in efficiency. The principle had refused Alex’s requests to access the school, but Strand managed to persuade him by pointing out that it wouldn’t reflect well on the school if it came out in a podcast that they were refusing to help in the search for Sebastian.

Five minutes later they were standing in the first-grade classroom talking to Sebastian’s teacher, Jenny Tudor. "I always follow the student’s outside at the end of class. I didn’t see who Sebastian left with but when I went back inside everyone had left. I had no idea that anything was wrong until Mrs. Torres showed up a few minutes later asking for Sebastian."

"Did you call the police?" Alex asked.

"Not right away. Sebastian’s grandmother sometimes picks him up, we thought maybe she had gotten the day wrong. Mrs. Torres called her and then she called her husband. When it became clear that he wasn’t with either of them I called the police right away."

"How would you describe Sebastian? Does he have a lot of friends?"

"He’s friend with most of the other boys in his class. He’s a little bit quiet, not shy just content to sit and play by himself. He’s very creative, he loves to draw and comes up with the most imaginative stories."

"This is Sebastian’s desk?" Strand inquired, already starting to riffle through its content.

"Yes," Ms. Tudor confirmed, then turned her attention back to Alex and explained, "We decided to leave everything as it is. In case that… well, we’re all still hoping he’ll come back."

"How have the other children reacted to Sebastian’s disappearance?"

"It’s been difficult. Some of the parent haven’t wanted their children to know what’s happened, they don’t want to scare them. We have a very good school counselor that has been in contact with all the kids and their parents."

"Have you-"

"Several of these drawings feature a man he seems to refer to as Paul. Do you have any idea who that is?" Strand interrupted them, handing over one of Sebastian’s drawings.

"He’s Sebastian’s imaginary friend, he talks about him all the time," Ms. Tudor explained.

"Are you sure he is imaginary?" Strand asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"Yes, of course," the teacher assured, seemingly thrown off by his question. "Having an imaginary friend is quite common at his age."

"What are you people doing here?" an accusatory voice called out. Maria Torres was standing in the doorway, observing them with an angry stare.

"Mrs. Torres…" Alex began in greeting but trailed of as she realized she had no idea what to say. She had reached out to the family when Strand told her he wanted to visit the school, in hopes that they would agree to another interview. But Robert Torres had made it perfectly clear to her that they wanted nothing to do with her or, as he put it, ‘another lunatic like that bastard Braun’.

Ms. Tudor stepped in, her voice distressed, "I’m sorry Maria. Principal Burkhart told me to show them around and answer their questions. They’re doing some sort of documentary about Sebastian’s disappearance."

Mrs. Torres kept her gaze firmly locked on Alex, her voice quivering with repressed emotion, "I believe my husband made it very clear that we don’t want anything to do with you or your podcast."

"I just want to help," Alex pleaded.

"Chief Colins told us that Mr. Braun is no longer working with Sebastian’s case."

"He’s not," Alex confirmed, then gestured towards Strand who had come to stand beside her. "This is Dr. Richard Strand. He’s helped the police with missing person cases in the past. I was-"

Mrs. Torres didn’t let her finish, "I want you to leave right now or I’m calling the police."

"As you wish," Strand intervened, his voice gentle as if he was trying to calm a frightened animal. He put a hand on Alex’s back to coach her into motion. "I’m sorry," Alex offered, fighting to keep her tone even. She then hurried out of the room, unable to meet the other woman’s gaze as she past her.

She walked with brisk steps out of the school and towards the parking lot, Strand following behind her. Just as she arrived at their rental car and was about to open the door he spoke up, "Don’t take it personally."

"I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job," she snapped, her emotions to raw to keep her temperament in check.

Strand merely nodded in response. Immediately Alex started to feel a little guilty for her outburst. Strand however appeared unfazed by her hostile tone. "You were with Braun when he found Sebastian’s teddy bear?"

The sudden shift in the conversation took her by surprise. "Uh… yeah."

"Do you remember the location?"

"Yeah, I th-"

"Good, let’s go," he interrupted before she could finish. He then opened the car door and climbed into the passenger seat without waiting for her response.

Alex took a deep breath to try and quell her irritation before getting into the driver seat. It was going to be a long day.



It took her almost half an hour of trudging back and forth through the forest of Portola State Park, but she finally found the right spot. "This is it… I think. It was lying underneath these bushes."

"Completely visible?" Strand asked.

"It was covered in mud and dirt, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if I wasn’t looking closely," Alex admitted, her thoughts drifting back to when she was here with Braun. Suddenly a sneaking suspicion occurred to her. "How did you know about the teddy bear that Braun found? That information hasn’t been made public."

"I have my sources."

"Was it Braun? Have you talked to him?"

"No," he stated, his tone making it clear that he wanted her to drop the subject.

But Alex was far from deterred by his displeasure. "Just your ability to see connections then was it?" she remarked sarcastically.

Strand merely glared at her in response, then declared, "We’re done here."

It took her a second to realize he meant they were leaving the park, at which point Strand had started striding back towards the car.

"That’s it?" she questioned, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice as she half ran to catch up to him. "What was the point of even coming here? We haven’t learned anything of value."

"On the contrary, we learned something very important."

"Would you like to elaborate on that?" she asked, holding her recorder out for him to explain to the audience, and her, what he meant.

When he stubbornly ignored her question, she grabbed a hold of his arm, prompting him to stop and face her. "Listen, if us working together is going to work you’re going to have to start being a little more cooperative."

He sighed deeply but gave a reluctant nod in agreement. It was hardly a ringing endorsement, but it was a start. She repeated her question, "Would you like to elaborate on that?"

"Why would the person who kidnapped Sebastian take him here?"

"The park is almost 3000 acres, it’s a good place to hide," Alex reasoned.

"It would have been a good place to hide the body, but the police have searched through every inch of this place and there was no sign of Sebastian."

"You think he’s dead?"

Strand sighed again, seemingly annoyed by her question. "You’re missing the point."

God, could this man be any more infuriating? Talking to him was like pulling teeth, was the man completely unable to answer a simple question like a normal person? "Well then, spell it out for me. That’s what you’re here for isn’t it?"

"It’s a red herring."

"What?!"

"They took Sebastian to the park and made sure the teddy bear was left behind to ensure that the police would be looking in the wrong place," Strand explained confidently, as if it was the only logical conclusion.

"But the teddy bear was lying in the middle of the woods, not near any of the trails. They couldn’t have known that Braun would find it," Alex objected.

"They probably had a plan for when and how the teddy bear was going to be discovered. Braun just beat them to the punch."

Alex mulled over that for a moment, a disturbing thought occurring to her. "You don’t think… Braun could have been involved do you?"

"No," Strand answered. When Alex’s worried expression remained unchanged he elaborated, "If Braun was involved he wouldn’t have quit working on the case and he definitely wouldn’t have gotten involved with your podcast."

"Should we tell the police?" "Telling the police that they were led on a wild goose chase is hardly going to go over well and we might need their goodwill later. Not to mention we don’t have any actual evidence to show them."

"So, what do we do now?"

"I need to talk to Robert Torres."

"He has made it pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk to us," Alex reminded him.

Strand smirked. "I can be very persuasive."



Alex agreed to Strands request to go to the Torres’s house, mostly because she didn’t have any other suggestion of where to go from here. But the closer they got the more her instincts were telling her that this was a mistake.

Dr. Strands theory sounded convincing, but that was all it was, a theory. He had nothing to back up his claims. Unlike Braun, he hadn’t shown any evidence to indicate that he had any sort of capability to help find Sebastian. All he had said was that he had an ability to see connections, but what did that even mean?

Yes, he had worked with the police on missing people cases in the past, but she didn’t have any insight into what he had actually done. The only reason she had reached out to him was because Braun had said he could help, but Braun had hardly proven to be a reliable person. What if Strand and Braun were working together. My god, what if-

"Take a deep breath."

The sound of Dr. Strands voice startled her out of her spiraling thoughts. "What?"

He was typing something on his phone, seemingly preoccupied and for a moment she thought she had imagined it, but then he spoke again, "You’re breathing is rapid and irregular. Take a deep breath before you start to hyperventilate."

Realizing that she was in fact on the verge of hyperventilating she took a moment to breathe deeply, feeling it flow through her and edge out a little bit of the tension.

"Good," he approved, putting his phone away and turning his attention fully on to her. "Now, are you going to tell me why you’re on the verge of having a panic attack?"

She took a moment to think on how to respond, trying to get her jumbled thoughts in order. "I just… I’m not sure this is a good idea."

"Why is that?"

"The Torres family has made it very clear they don’t want to speak to us, I think we should respect that."

Strand observed her intently, as if sizing her up. "Do you not find it peculiar that the family doesn’t want us looking into Sebastian’s disappearance?"

"No," she answered firmly. "I mean, they have no reason to believe we could be of any assistance. I don’t even know if we can be of any assistance."

"Robert Torres didn’t want Tannis Braun involved either, even though the police were the ones who requested his help."

"How do you know that?"

"I told you, I have my sources."

Alex opted to ignore that for the moment and focus on the subject at hand. "Robert Torres probably don’t believe in psychics."

"A lot of people are skeptical to the notion of psychics, as they should be. But when a loved one goes missing, especially a child, people are generally willing to try anything to find them no matter how unconventional. Not to mention, Braun did in fact find the first, and so far only, substantial clue. Yet Robert Torres seems to despise him."

"Yeah, because Braun refused to continue working with the police on the case;" Alex argued.

"I very much doubt the police would have told them that."

"I suppose…" Alex conceded. "Look, what you’re saying… it makes a lot of sense but in the end it’s just guesswork. You don’t have anything to back this up."

"You’re right, I don’t," Strand readily agreed, seemingly unconcerned about that fact.

"We’re not the police. We don’t have any right to expect him to talk to us."

Strand appeared to mull over her objections, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "When you showed up unsolicited at my apartment you told me you wanted to make sure Sebastian Torres is found and reunited with his family."

Alex felt herself blush at his not so subtle dig. "I do! I just-"

"You want some sort of guarantee that am right, there isn’t," Strand interrupted. "Now, we can either go talk to Robert Torres, or we can head back to the airport and go our separate ways. It’s your decision."

As if on cue they arrived in front of the Torres’s house. Alex parked the car next to the sidewalk and took a deep breath to steel herself. "Okay… let’s do this."

Chapter 6: Suspicious Minds

Chapter Text

Robert Torres opened the front door, his eyes narrowing as they fell on Alex. "What do you want? I told you on the phone to stay the hell away from my family."

Before she got a chance to reply, Strand took a step forward and spoke up, "Mr. Torres, I’m Dr Richard Strand-"

"I don’t care if you’re the queen of England, get off my property or I’m calling the police!" Mr. Torres threatened.

Before he could close the door in their faces, Strand calmly responded, "Good, then you can tell them all about the phone call."

Alex had no idea what Strand was alluding to, but it instantly became clear to her that Robert Torres did. His whole body froze mid movement, and his eyes became wide with panic even as he insisted, "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"I’m talking about Sebastian kidnapper’s calling you and demanding that you don’t agree to having Tannis Braun working with the police." Strand clarified nonchalantly, as if he was simply discussing the weather. "Would you like us to wait for the police out here or may we come inside?"

For a brief moment Alex thought he was going to refuse, but then he reluctantly stepped away from the door and gestured for them to step inside.

The three of them stood in the Torres’ small hallway, a tense silence filling the room. Robert Torres looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here and Alex had to bite her tongue in order not to start hurling questions at the man. Only Strand seemed unaffected by the situation, standing with his hands in his pockets and a indifferent expression on his face.

Eventually Mr. Torres spoke, his voice hoarse, "I don’t know where you got this idea from, but it is absolutely ludicrous."

Strand’s only reaction was a raised eyebrow, but it was enough to convey his disbelief.

But Strand’s derision only seemed to make Mr. Torres more adamant in his denial. "Ask her," he demanded, pointing at Alex. "Braun did consult on the case, and it was the police who put an end to his involvement, not me."

Alex knew that wasn’t entirely correct, since the police had asked Braun for further assistance, which would back up what Mr. Torres was claiming. However, she was also mindful of how hostile he had been when she had been here with Braun. Unsure of what to believe at the moment she kept her thoughts to herself.

Strand however didn’t miss a beat as he promptly responded, "Your wife agreed to let Braun help out with Sebastian’s case, you had told her not too, but you didn’t tell her why, so she agreed to it anyway. She was more concerned about finding her son than her husband’s sudden animosity towards psychics."

"This is ridiculous," Mr. Torres persisted, but his voice was dejected, as if he knew there was no use in denying it.

Strand sighed deeply, seemingly becoming aggravated with the other mans continued denial.

Unable to keep her thoughts to herself any longer, Alex interfered, "Mr. Torres, if you were contacted by the people who took Sebastian you have to notify the police."

"Absolutely not," he quickly objected. He appeared to realize what his knee-jerk reaction had given away, his color draining from his face. His eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to her. "Are you recording this?"

"No."

"Give me your bag," he insisted, reaching forward in an attempt to grab her duffel bag.

"What? No!" Alex refused, pulling the bag behind her to keep it out of his reach.

Dr Strand stepped between them, holding his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. "I suggest you calm down Mr. Torres, otherwise the police will be called and we would have to tell them what caused this altercation. And as we have already established, that’s not something you want to happen."

When Mr. Torres stepped back, Strand put his hand down and assured him in a calm voice, "Now, Ms. Reagan is a professional journalist and knows better than to record someone without their permission. Isn’t that right Ms. Reagan?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, ignoring that nagging voice in the back of her head that sounded a lot like Nic. Reaching into her duffel bag she pulled out her equipment for them to see. "Here… my recorder and my phone, both turned off."

"Alright?" Strand asked, still on alert.

Mr. Torres nodded profusely, clearing his throat repeatedly. "I’m, sorry… Ms. Reagan. I understand that my actions might come across as irrational to you, but I just want Sebastian back safe. And I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to make that happened."

"What do they want?" Strand inquired. When Mr. Torres gave him a confused look in response he elaborated, "The people that kidnapped Sebastian, what were their demands?"

"That we don’t talk to the press and that we don’t agree to letting Braun consult on the case."

"That’s it? No ransom demand?" Alex asked. She was hardly an expert, but it struck her as odd that the kidnappers would contact the family if they didn’t want anything.

"They said that as long as we do as they say, Sebastian will be returned home unarmed."

"You’re going to take the word of the people who kidnapped your son?" Strand questioned.

"What choice do I have?" Mr. Torres countered, his demeanor instantly becoming defensive.

The look on Dr. Strand’s face seemed to indicate that he thought there was decidedly better options, but he didn’t press further. "I believe we’ve taken up enough of your time."

"Just to be clear," Robert Torres spoke, his voice hard, "If I hear anything about this on your podcast, or if I find out you’ve talked to the police, I will make you regret it."

Strand simply grunted in response and moved to open the door, then paused. "One more thing." He turned back to face Robert Torres. "Who’s Paul?"

"What?" Mr. Torres gasped, appearing stunned by the question.

"Your son has made several drawings featuring someone he refers to as Tall Paul. Who is he?"

"That’s… Sebastian imaginary friend," Mr. Torres told him somewhat reluctantly.

Strand reached inside his coat and pulled out a paper, unfolded it and held it up to show one of Sebastian’s drawings. "Sebastian’s imaginary friend is a tall dark shadow man named Paul?"

"He probably got it from tv or something," Mr. Torres reasoned.

"Or he could have gotten it from you," Strand suggested, observing the other man intently. "Do you know anyone named Paul?"

"No."

Strand nodded in understanding, then without a word he turned and walked out of the house. Alex hurried after him, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing behind her.



"How did you know that the kidnappers had contacted Robert Torres?" Alex inquired, biting into a crispy french-fry. They were sitting in a booth at a small café, trying to make sense of what they’d learned.

"It was the logical conclusion," Strand answered, a plate of pasta carbonara sitting untouched before him as he stared out the window.

"It really wasn’t," Alex countered, not willing to let him off the hook that easy. She couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of unease at his behaviour. Somehow Braun’s claims of having psychic abilities had been easier to accept than Strand’s assertion of being able to ‘see connections’.

Strand turned his attention to her but didn’t otherwise respond to her prompting.

"Okay, Mr. Logical. Explain to me why the kidnappers would contact the family if they don’t have a ransom demand?"

"I don’t know."

That certainly took her by surprise, up until now he had had speculations on everything concerning Sebastian’s kidnapping.  "You must have some theory," she pressed.

He shrugged his shoulder and started swirling his fork in the spaghetti. "There is no logical explanation why they would risk contacting the family if they have nothing to gain from it."

"So what… you think Robert Torres was lying? That they did want something?"

"He told us what they wanted," Strand pointed out.

"No contact with the press and not have Braun consult with the police. Do you think that’s why they haven’t made any further contact? Because Robert Torres didn’t meet their demands?"

"The more important question is if they are not after money and they are, if we’re actually going to trust the word of a child abductor, planning on eventually returning Sebastian Torres to his family, why did they take him to begin with?"

Alex could think of a handful of scenarios, each one more disturbing than the last.

"The logical conclusion would be that they are not actually planning on returning Sebastian, but if that’s true then there is no reason for them to contact the family. They already have Sebastian," Strand reasoned, his tone frustrated.

"This is hopeless," she groaned in aggravation. They had just unearthed information that should be a big break in this story, yet they were just as stumped as before and she couldn’t even talk about any of it on the podcast. "Maybe we should talk to the police? Tell them what Robert Torres told us."

"We don’t have any proof, it would be our word against his." Strand took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair, his lunch still mostly untouched. "Do you know how Braun got involved with Sebastian’s case?"

"The police called him, asked for his help."

"Braun told you that?"

"No. I mean yes, but I was there when they called," she explained, confused over what he was getting at.

"Who else at your company knew about this?"

"Just my producer Nic. And our bosses, Paul and Terry. Why?"

Strand observed her intently, once again giving her the feeling that he was sizing her up. "Braun’s involvement in the case still hasn’t been made public. Which mean the only people who knew he was helping search for Sebastian was Braun himself, the police, the Torres family, you and your colleagues and-"

"The kidnappers!" Alex exclaimed in shock. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized it earlier. This was huge. "But how?"

"Clearly somebody told them," Strand stated rather pointedly.

Realizing what he was insinuating she felt her face grow warm with anger. "You’re not seriously suggesting that I or someone from PNWS would be involved in Sebastian’s kidnapping?"

"It’s a possibility," he said, his voice infuriatingly nonchalant.

"What about you?" she shot back at him. "That would explain how you knew about the kidnappers call to the Torres’s, and that they found Sebastian’s teddy bear in the park."

"True," he conceded. "However, it wouldn’t explain how the kidnappers knew about Braun’s involvement."

"You used to work with Braun. He could have told you," Alex pointed out. She had lashed out at him in anger at his accusation, but now she was beginning to feel slightly uneasy as she started to become aware that it might be an actual possibility.

"The most likely scenario would be that it is someone within the police working with the kidnappers," he noted, as if they hadn’t just been pointing the finger at each other.

"That’s a pretty serious accusation. Don’t suppose you would have any actual evidence to back it up."

"If I did, we wouldn’t be sitting here," he reminded her, sighing heavily.

A long tense silence followed. Alex tried to get her thoughts in order, she needed to be rationale about this. There was no actual reason to suspect Dr. Strand, and if he was somehow involved then he had to be pretty foolish to agree to work with her. And she was confident that he was no fool. "So, where do we go from here?"

"We need to figure out why Sebastian was taken, there has to be a reason."

"Do you think he was targeted specifically?" Alex questioned. When he nodded in affirmation she contested, "But that doesn’t make any sense. They couldn’t have known his mother would be late picking him up that day."

"My guess is that they had been watching Sebastian and his family for a while. When the opportunity presented itself, they took him."

The police had seemed convinced that Sebastian had been taken at random. Then again Strand’s instincts hadn’t been wrong yet. It was definitely worth investigating. "If that’s the case then someone might have seen something, one of the neighbors or a teacher. We could ask around, see if anyone had noticed anyone suspicious."

Strand shook his head in response. "I’m sure the police would have already gone down that road of inquiry. Besides, Sebastian was taken in broad daylight, surrounded by people. Whoever took him would be someone who blends in, someone who didn’t raise suspicion when walking off with a six-year-old boy."

"You think it’s someone they know, someone that Sebastian trusted," she discerned, the thought sending a shiver down her spine.

"We need to talk to someone who’s close to the family. Someone who knows their routines and the people they come in contact with."

"What about Sebastian’s grandmother? Sebastian’s teacher said she would sometimes pick him up after school," Alex suggested, her excitement returning at the prospect.

"Think she would be willing to talk to us?"

"Worth a shot. If nothing else, I need something I can actually put in the podcast."

Chapter 7: Coming Apart

Chapter Text

"My god! I hardly believe it," Nic exclaimed after Alex finished informing him about their confrontation with Robert Torres.

"I know," she agreed, her head still spinning from the day’s events. 

"Do bad we can’t include any of it on the podcast. This would make one hell of a story."

Alex sighed deeply. It was so typical that she would stumble over a huge development like this and not be able to use it for the story. Sometimes having to comply with the journalistic code of ethics was extremely inconvenient. "Yeah, hopefully we will be able to talk about it after Sebastian is found. If he’s ever found."

"Look, I hate to be the pessimist here, but we need to come up with material for another episode." 

"Well, we have the conversation with Sebastian’s teacher. And tomorrow we are going to visit his grandmother, see if she’d be willing to talk to us," she reminded him, even though she knew that wasn’t enough. 

"Yeah, but that’s not going to amount to a whole episode, we need something that will get the audience excited. Look Alex, I know you’re very invested in this but unless something new comes up, something we can actually share on the air then-"

"I know, I know. I’m working on it."

"So how is it going working with Dr Strand? Are you two getting along okay?"

Alex let out another deep sigh. She still wasn’t sure what to make of Strand, he had certainly been correct when it came to Robert Torres, but his explanations for how he reached his conclusions were vague at best. "I guess. He’s just so frustrating. I swear that man enjoys pushing my buttons."
  
"He must be something else to have gotten under your skin," Nic teased her.

"You have no idea. I’ll send you the recordings I have so far, even though it’s not much."

"I’ll try to go through them this weekend if I have time, we’ve been really swamped up here."

"Thanks Nic. I’ll check in when I have something new."

"Good luck, and Alex… be careful."

She shook her head in exasperation, it was so typical of Nic to worry. "Don’t worry, I will."

They said their goodbyes and Alex put her phone on silent. She needed a hot shower followed by an uninterrupted night’s sleep. Hopefully tomorrow would generate some new leads.


Teresa Torres was a kind looking elderly woman that reminded Alex of her own grandmother. Her hands shook as she poured them coffee, adding three pieces of sugar even though they had both asked for one. Alex wondered if it was a sign of the toll the disappearance of her grandson had taken.

"Thank you for agreeing to see us Mrs. Torres," said Alex, as she started her recorder. 

"My son told me not to talk to you people," she informed them, her voice tired.

"Then why are you?" Strand asked. Alex threw him a warning glare, which he promptly ignored. 

"The first few days, Sebastian’s disappearance was on every news channel, the locals were organizing search parties and putting up posters. Now it only gets mentioned as a footnote in the local paper, if even that. People are already starting to move one. They all assume that he’s not going to be found alive. Someone needs to be talking about it. Remind everyone that he is still missing."

"What can you tell us about Sebastian?" Alex asked, trying to ease into the interview.

"Oh, he’s such a sweet boy. Always saying thank you and please. For my birthday he made- oh darn, I forgot to put out the sugar," the old woman declared, hurrying up and into the kitchen.

"We have sugar," Alex called out, but her objections went unheard as Mrs. Torres returned with another bowl of sugar and proceeded to add another two into Alex’s cup. Strand had strategically placed his cup out of reach.

Alex merely smiled politely and took a small sip of her sugar with coffee. "I understand you would sometimes pick Sebastian up from school?"

"Every Tuesday and every other Thursday, when his mother works the evening shift."

"Does Sebastian like school?"

"He loves it, he’s very smart and he adores his teacher, she’s a lovely girl."

"What about his classmates? Does he have a lot of friends?"

"Oh yes, he’s always talking about the games they play and the toys they have."

"Did he ever mention anyone named Paul?" Strand interjected, earning himself another glare from Alex.

"Yes, that’s one of his friends."

"Have you meet him? This Paul?" Strand urged.

"Oh gosh, I’m not sure. There were a lot of kids at his birthday party, but I’m afraid I can’t remember their names."

Before Strand could continue his questioning Alex cut in, "Is Sebastian involved in any after school activities? Does he play any sports or maybe play an instrument?"

"No, he used to play baseball but he stopped a few months ago."

"Do you know why he quit?"

"Oh, his trainer was awfully rude, Sebastian didn’t like him it all. He said he’d rather spend the day here with me," Mrs. Torres explained proudly

Alex made a mental note to check up this trainer. It was a long shot, but it couldn’t hurt. "You mentioned that some of the locals had helped search for Sebastian. Do you know who organized these search parties?"

"The police arranged the first one, the day Sebastian disappeared. They thought maybe he had wandered off and gotten lost. Then Gordon organized a few, after the police became convinced someone had taken him."

"Gordon?" Alex inquired.

"Yes."

"Is he a friend of the family?" Alex prompted, when it became clear Mrs. Torres was not going to volunteer any more information.

"I suppose, it’s a small community most people know each other."

"What’s Gordon’s last name?"

"Wallis."

Alex wrote down the information in her notepad, it shouldn’t be difficult to find him. "Is there anything else you can tell us? Something that could be important?"

The old woman’s eyes began to tear up and her lip quivered as she answered, "Sebastian’s a good boy. A sweet, caring boy and he doesn’t deserve this."

Ignoring the tightening in her chest, Alex handed her a tissue and gave her a gentle smile. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to us."

"One last thing," Strand spoke up. He took out Sebastian’s drawing and handed it over. Teresa Torres frowned, an appalled expression on her face. "Goodness me, where did you find that?"

"You recognize it?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes. Bobby used to call him the Tall Man. He would have terrible nightmares about him. Used to come into our bedroom at night wanting to sleep in our bed, his father would always get angry, saying he needed to toughen up. But Bobby was so upset, said the Tall Man was coming to get him. It stopped when he came back, thank god."

"Got back? Back from where?" Strand questioned, leaning forward and observing Mrs. Torres intently.

The old woman didn’t appear to hear him, still staring at the drawing in astonishment seemingly lost in her thoughts.

When it became clear she wasn’t going to answer Alex intervened, "Mrs. Torres, we’ve taken up enough of your time-"

"Where did Bobby go?" Dr Strand repeated, his voice urgent.

Mrs. Torres finally seemed to snap her out of her stupor, and she looked at Strand in confusion. "Bobby? Well I imagine he’s at work, he’s chief operating officer you know, the youngest to ever hold that position at the company," she explained proudly.

Deciding that enough was enough, Alex stood up abruptly and said as politely as she could manage through her anger. "Thank you, for your time and the coffee. We really appreciate it. Dr Strand?"

He gave a loud sigh at the glare she directed his way but stood up and bid Mrs. Torres goodbye.


Alex hurried out of the apartment complex, leaving Strand trailing behind her. She got into the car and made sure to slam the door shut hard. She briefly considered driving off and leaving him to walk but managed to reign in that impulse. 

Strand got into the passenger seat, his demeanor exasperatingly unbothered. "Is there a problem?" he drawled, as if he had no idea why she would be upset.

She took a deep breath to try and curb her boiling anger. "I’m the reporter here, remember? That means I ask the questions," she reminded him through clenched teeth.

"You asked me here for a reason," he argued.

"Yes, to help find Sebastian. Not to interfere when I’m trying to do my job."

He let out another deep sigh. "In order to find Sebastian, I need more information. If you are not going to ask the relevant questions, then I will."

"Excuse me?!" she erupted, losing what little patience she had left. How dare he criticize her competence at doing her job. "I’m asking the relevant questions. You however haven’t contributed anything that brings us closer to finding out who took Sebastian. All you do is ramble on about that blasted drawing."

"Because it’s relevant," he reasoned, completely unfazed by her anger.

"How?"

"Did it escape your notice that she thought the drawing was made by Robert Torres rather than her grandson?"

Alex had the sudden urge to shake the man. He was clearly either delusional or pulling her chain. "She was confused, she’s an old woman. She also put five sugars in my coffee and had her slippers on the wrong foot."

"And it doesn’t strike you as weird that everyone I’ve asked about this drawing doesn’t hesitate to dismiss it as a simple figment of Sebastian’s imagination?"

"I hate to break it to you, but children having imaginary friends is neither uncommon nor abnormal. When I was little, I had an imaginary friend named Wendy. She was half horse, half mermaid."

Strand raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk appearing on his lips. "Like a mermaid with a horse’s head?"

Alex let out an annoyed huff in response. "No… she was a mermaid in the water and a horse on- that’s not important. My point is that it’s normal for someone Sebastian’s age."

"I’m well aware of the psychology behind the phenomena," he assured her, his tone patronizing. "Let us say you’re correct and I’m mistaken about the significance of this drawing. What would you suggest should be the next step from here? "

Alex had to bite her tongue to keep herself from yelling obscenities at him. It took all the will power she had to keep her voice level as she told him, "If you had been paying attention you would realize that Teresa Torres just gave us two new people to talk to. Sebastian’s baseball trainer and Gordon Wallis, the man who organized the search parties."

"Neither of those people will help us find out what happened to Sebastian," he dismissed, as if he expected her to take his word on it.

"You don’t know that. Are you aware that some abductors will insert themselves into the search for their victims to avoid suspicion?"

"Did you learn that from watching Law and Order?" he asked mockingly. "The police will have already looked into these people, talking to them will just be a waste of time."

"Maybe the police missed something. I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot. If you don’t like it, you can piss of!" she yelled, all thoughts of being professional and polite flying out the window.

Strand however didn’t seem to take any offence at her outburst, he merely nodded in resignation. "Fine. I have some work I need to get done. I’ll take a cab back to the hotel and you can go do your interviews without me asking irrelevant questions."

"Fine," she agreed, relieved to get away from his company. Normally she would have offered to drop him of at the hotel, but she was fed up with Richard Strand and his bullshit. When she got back to the hotel she would call Nic and tell him to buy a ticket back to Chicago for Strand, she would be better off continuing this investigation on her own.

Chapter 8: Perilous Path

Chapter Text

Sebastian’s former baseball trainer turned out to be a 17-year-old girl named Jaime. She had pink hair that was tied up into a messy ponytail and she thought podcasts were ‘totally lit’.

They found a bench outside of the high school to sit and talk. "I’m sure you’ve heard about the disappearance of Sebastian Torres?" Alex began the interview. She had already gathered the basic information, but they needed to go over it again for the listeners.

"Yeah, it’s so cray. Normally nothing happens here, it’s like the most boring town in the world. And Sebastian is such a nice kid," Jamie answered.

"You were his trainer when he was playing T-Ball?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know why he stopped?"

"Yeah… I mean, they didn’t give a reason, just said he wasn’t going to come to practice anymore. But it wasn’t a surprise, Sebastian was never really interested in baseball."

"How so?"

Jamie shrugged. "I could just tell. He wasn’t very active, at practice or when there was a match. He’s just one of those kids who’s not really into sports, you know? Usually he would sit at the bench and draw in his notebook."

"Sounds like it could be frustrating, for you as the trainer I mean," Alex noted, curious if there was any validity to Sebastian’s grandmother’s claim that he hadn’t liked his trainer. Jamie seemed like a very nice girl, but you never know. Then again Teresa Torres wasn’t the most reliable source.

Jamie rolled her eyes scoffingly. "Please, I train 6-year-olds, half of them can barely hit the ball. The only thing I care about his that the kids have fun and I try to encourage them to do their best. Sebastian didn’t enjoy it so I didn’t push him, I remember what it was like when your little and your parents are forcing you to do things you don’t want."

"You think it was his parents who wanted Sebastian to play?"

Jamie nodded her head vigorously. "His dad, definitely."

"What makes you say that? Did Sebastian tell you?" Alex questioned.

Jamie leaned across the table, as if she was about to share something very important. "I heard them arguing once, Mr. Torres and his wife."

"What were they arguing about?"

"I only heard some of it, they were in the parking lot after practice. Mrs. Torres seemed really angry, she yelled at Mr. Torres that he needed to stop putting his compulsions on Sebastian. I figured he was trying to fulfill his dreams of being a baseball player through his son, a lot of parents are like that."

"When was this?"

"A couple of months ago, it was the last practice Sebastian was at. I guess Mrs. Torres won that argument."

"I know there was a couple of search parties organized to help look for Sebastian. Did you participate in any of them?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, the principal encouraged all the seniors to go. It seemed like half the town was there."

"Do you know the man who arranged it, Gordon Wallis?"

"Sure… I mean, I don’t know him, but I know who he is. He’s always in the local paper or organizing some event. Rumors say he’s planning on running for mayor next year. My dad says he just likes being the center of attention and because he was some big wig in the police everyone listens to him. "

That caught Alex’s attention. "He worked in law enforcement?"

"Yeah, he was police chief or something like that."

Instantly Alex’s instincts when on high alert. She had a sudden flash back to yesterday at the café, when Strand had suggested that someone within the police could be involved in Sebastian’s disappearance. If he was the former police chief, Gordon Wallis probably still had a lot of connections within the Los Gatos police force.

"Thanks for taking the time to talk with me, I really appreciate it," Alex said, as she turned off her recorder.

"No problem," Jamie answered with an easy smile. "So, when is this going to be released?"

"Uh, I’ don’t have a date yet but… I’ll send you an email when I know," she promised. She didn’t want to brush the girl off, but she was itching to get going and investigate her new theory.

"Awesome."

After giving Jamie a card with her contact information Alex hurried back towards her car, already searching on her phone for Gordon Wallis address. Maybe instead of telling Strand that his assistance was no longer requested she would get the satisfaction of telling him she had solved the case all on her own.


Gordon Wallis lived in a small farmhouse ten minutes outside of town. Alex parked her rental car next to the semi-truck already parked there. A large German shepherd barked loudly at her from its kennel as she exited the car.

She walked up the porch steps, taking in the confederate flags adorning the house wall and the large sign that read ‘trespassers will be shot’. She rang the doorbell, impatiently waiting for someone to open the door. When several moments passed and there was no answer she rang it again, trying to peer discreetly in through the window to try and see if anyone was home.

Unable to discern any movement inside she turned her attention towards the barn located behind the house. It looked like it was on the brink of falling apart, but the tracks leading up to it indicated that it was used for something.

She made her way over there, searching for any sign of movement. She stopped in the open doorway, peeking inside. The building appeared to be used as storage for old tractors and other types of machinery. Seeing a light coming from the back she took a tentative step inside and called out, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

When there was no answer she stepped further inside. "Hello?"

The sound of the door creaking behind her made her turn around so rapidly she almost tripped over her own feet. She tried to keep calm as she was faced with a tall stout looking man holding a large shotgun.

"Maybe you didn’t see that sign out there? But trespassing is a serious offense," the man told her, gazing her up and down.

He was clearly trying to come of as intimidating, but Alex refused to let herself be cowed. Giving him her most disarming smile she asked, "Are you Gordon Wallis?"

"Who’s asking and why the hell are you trespassing on my land?"

"My name is Alex Reagan, I’m a reporter for Pacific Northwest Stories. I’m doing a story on Sebastian Torres."

“Is that so,” said Mr. Wallis. He stepped inside the barn, the door falling shut behind him.

Alex forced herself to stay calm. The door wasn’t locked and he was stepping past her giving her a clear path to the exit should she need it. He put his shotgun down against a lawnmower and Alex held in a sigh of relief.

“You’re from that internet show that Robert talked about I suppose?”

“A podcast, yes. I heard from some of the people I’ve interviewed that you had organized search parties to help look for Sebastian. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Not that much to tell though. We didn’t find any signs of the boy.”

“I’ll need to record our conversation,” Alex said, pulling out her recorder from her purse.

“Of course,” he agreed readily enough. “Let’s go into the back room, I’m sure we’ll be more comfortable in there.”

Alex hesitated for a split second. She knew Nic would berate her to no end for getting in to an enclosed space with a potential suspect, especially when no one knew where she was, but then she never listened to him anyway.

Following Mr. Wallis through a labyrinth of machines to get to the door in the back she made sure to hold herself straight and her expression relaxed. But when she entered the back room and was meet with a wall covered with various weapons, everything from hunting rifles to hand grenades, she couldn’t stop herself from freezing in her tracks. She recovered her composure quickly but she didn’t doubt that Gordon Wallis had caught her apprehension.

Pushing past her growing uneasiness she took a seat in one of the chairs located next to a small patio table. Turning on her recorder she asked, “I hope you don’t mind if I begin with some background questions to introduce you to our listeners?”

“You want some coffee?” he asked, ignoring her question. Before she could respond he was already placing two mugs, that didn’t appear to have been properly cleaned in god knows how long, on the table. He grabbed a thermos from a shelf and poured coffee into both cups.

Deciding that she needed to take charge of the conversation Alex switched gears, “Do you hunt? It’s quite an array of weapons you’ve got there.”

Mr. Wallis regarded her in silence for a moment before taking a seat opposite her, “Yes, I do.”

“What kind of animals do you hunt?”

“All kind. Deer, bears, alligators. Name a creature with four legs and I’ve probably bagged one at one point or another.”

“Can’t imagine you get a lot of alligators here in California.”

“No, you need to go to Florida for that. We do get the occasional black bear however, so be careful if you’re going to go scurrying around out in the forest. You never know what you might come across.”

Alex wasn’t sure if she was imagining the threat in his words, but she refused to be cowed. “How long have you known the Torres family?”

“I’ve known Robert Torres his whole life. His father and I was at school together. His wife moved here when she meet Robert, over ten years ago now.”

“How would you describe Sebastian?”

Mr Wallis shrugged. “He seems like a nice enough kid. A little quiet, never made much of a fuss.”

“I understand you organized search parties to help look for Sebastian?”

“Chief Colins organized a search the day the boy first went missing. After that the police started focusing their investigation on searching for an abductor. Some of the townsfolk felt it was still possible that the boy had just wandered off on his own, so I helped arrange some of the locals into helping search for him. We covered over 160 square miles in three days, not a sign of the boy.”

“Did you search in Portola State Park?” she asked in her most casual voice.

Mr Wallis huffed, his face turning slightly red, “Of course not, that’s over 20 miles outside of town. No way the boy would have walked that far on his own.”

Alex nodded in understanding. He was right of course, but his reaction was a little too agitated.

“It was reported on CNN that the police were searching through Portola Park two weeks ago. Do you know why they would be searching for Sebastian there?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze turning hard. “No, I don’t.”

Alex pressed on, “You haven’t heard of any potential leads that could explain the police having focused their investigation to that area?”

“Of course not. What the hell kind of question is that?” he barked.

“You used to work for the police didn’t you?”

At that Mr. Wallis straightened in his chair and answered in a more controlled tone, “I was on the force for over 35 years. 10 of those years I served as police commissioner. However I am no longer employed by the Los Gatos police department and therefore have no insight into their current cases.”

“You must still have friends within the force. None of them have told you anything about the ongoing investigation?”

“No.”

Alex nodded again, letting a moment of silence drag on, not breaking eye contact. “Why did you retire from the force?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I worked hard for a long time, I think I deserve some peace and quiet in my old age.”

“From what I’ve heard you’re still very active within the community. There’s even rumors of you planning to run for mayor. Doesn’t sound to me like a man looking for peace and quiet.”

“You know, Robert Torres wasn’t too keen on you snooping around, sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. I can see why.”

“I’m just trying to find out the truth,” Alex insisted, feeling a surge of triumph when Mr. Wallis finally broke eye contact.

“Like a dog with a bone, you damn reporters. Never know when to quit.” With a deep sigh he stood up and walked over to a cabinet located in the corner of the room. “You should have taken a page from your friend Mr. Braun. He at least had the sense to know when he was in over his head.”

Alex’s satisfaction promptly turned to dread. Maybe it was the detached tone his voice had suddenly taken on, or maybe it was the memory of Braun telling her there was dark forces at work, but all of her instincts were screaming at her that something was about to go horribly wrong. As slowly as possible she reached for her recorder. Not daring to put it back into her purse for fear that it would catch his attention she instead put it into the pocket of her jacket, letting it continue recording.

She couldn’t see what he was doing, his body blocking her view of whatever was in that cabinet. The door to the room was closed but not locked, but he was standing right next to it, even if she made a run for it he would be able to stop her before she made it out the door. She quickly scanned the room for something, anything, she could use as an distraction.

The telltale sound of a gun being cocked echoed across the room and Alex felt her body freeze in fear, she didn’t dare to even so much as breath.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this Ms. Reagan,” said Mr. Wallis, his voice completely void of emotion.

She wanted to scream but her voice was as paralyzed as the rest of her.

“Alex!” a voice suddenly boomed from outside.

Alex was brought out of her stupor at the same time as Gordon Wallis spun around, gun in hand pointing towards the door. Running on pure instinct Alex grabbed her forgotten cup of coffee and threw it in Gordon Wallis’ face.

He let out a shout as he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall, but Alex was already at the door, throwing it open and running out into the maze of machines. Running has fast as her legs allowed she had no idea if she was even heading in the right direction. Turning a corner around a tractor she found herself colliding straight into a firm chest.

Panicking she tried to push the person away but two strong hands grabbed an almost painful hold of her shoulders, a familiar voice calling her name, “Alex!”

“Dr Strand?” she asked, looking up in confusion at his worried face, her mind unable to comprehend why he was here.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his gaze raking over her body. “Are you injured?”

“He has a gun, we have to get out of here.” The words where barely out of her mouth when the sound of a door being thrown open and heavy footfalls could be heard coming towards them.

Strand put a hand on her back and pushed her forward. “Go, to the car.”

Seeing the sunlight coming from the now open barn door she sprinted towards it. The light outside was blinding but she didn’t let that slow her down, her lungs and legs burning with effort. It felt like it took an eternity to reach the car. Throwing herself in the driver seat she frantically began searching for her car keys in her purse. She managed to fish them out just as Strand got into the passenger seat, but her hands where shaking so much she couldn’t get them into the ignition.

Strand reached over and snatched the keys from her, get them in just as she saw Gordon Wallis come running out of the barn, shotgun in hand.

“Drive,” Strand bellowed.

The wheels of the car screeched as she reversed out of the driveway at a breakneck pace. She had just righted the car on the road when a shot rang out. Alex flinched at the sound but didn’t let it slow her down as she hit the gas and sped down the road.

Another shot rang out and the side-view mirror on the passenger side of the car shattered. Alex couldn’t hold back a whimper at the impact.

“Just keep driving,” said Strand, his voice surprisingly calm given the situation.

Alex didn’t need to be told twice.

Chapter 9: Coming Back Together

Chapter Text

Alex hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were turning white. There was some annoying noise in the background but she couldn’t make out what it was over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears. She didn’t register the landscape rushing past outside the window or what was on the road signs she was passing. The only thing her mind could comprehend was that she had to keep going, keep driving, as far and as fast as possible.

A hand grabs her wrist followed by a loud shrieking noise. It took her a moment to realize that the noise had come from herself and the hand in question belonged to Strand, seated in the passenger seat.

“Alex, stop the car,” he said, his voice way too loud in the silence of the car. 

Why was the car silent? Shouldn’t the engine be running?

“Stop the car,” Strand repeated.

“N-No,” she stuttered out, her teeth chattering. Why was it so damn cold in here? 

“You’re in shock. You need to stop the car.”

Alex vehemently shook her head. “I need to keep driving.”

“We are 8 miles from the house, it’s safe now. Just pull over to the side of the road and stop the car.”

“He could be following us,” she argued, her grip on the steering tightening even more until it felt like her hands were going numb.

“He’s not,” Strand insisted.

“He has a gun!” Alex shouted. She could hear the panic in her own voice and to her horror she found her eyes beginning to water, making the road blur before her. “He was shooting at us, he-” 

“Listen to me,” Strand bellowed, somehow still managing to sound more calm than agitated. “You’re currently driving 20 mph above the speed limit and we’re heading away from the city out into the forest. You need to stop the car before you either crash it or we run out of gas in the middle of nowhere. Pull over to the side of the road, we’ll switch places and I’ll drive us back to the city.”

His hold on her wrist had tightened to the point of being painful but strangely enough it helped break through some of her panic, like an anchor into reality. She didn’t have the wherewithal to pull over but she managed to put her foot on the break and stop the car. She could hear Strand open his door and get out but she couldn’t get her hands to cooperate enough to let go of the steering wheel. For a moment she had the thought that maybe her hands were permanently stuck, but then the door on the driver side was opening and Strand reached inside to help pry her fingers off the wheel.

Somehow she managed to get her legs to work enough to step out of the car, the dead grip Strand had on her arm the only thing keeping her knees from buckling under her as he walked her around to the passenger side. She struggled for a while with getting her seatbelt on and she had the sudden realization that she noise she hadn’t been able to make sense of must have been the no seatbelt alarm. 

Strand got into the driver’s seat and started the car. He didn’t say anything as he turned the car around and began the drive back towards Los Gatos. Alex appreciated the silence, as it gave her a chance to get her herself under control. She busied herself with counting backwards from 100 in increments of 3, a trick she remembered from a segment she’d worked on for PNWS on how to deal with panic attacks. It helped to distract her and she could feel the panic begin to recede. At first it would spike up again each time they passed another car, the fear that it was Gordon Wallis chasing after them gripping hold of her, but the closer they got to town and the more traffic they encountered the less freaked out she got.

By the time Strand pulled into the parking lot of a small convenience store she was feeling enough like herself to question him. “What are you doing? We need to go to the police.”

“Agreed,” he said, however he unfastened his seat belt and turned to face her. “But first I need to know what happened.”

The confusion she felt rendered her momentarily speechless. Perhaps Dr. Strand wasn’t as unruffled as he appeared. “What do you mean what happened? He shot at us!”

“I’m aware,” he said in that condescending tone of his that always grated on her nerves. “What I’m not clear on is why. What happened before I got there?”

For a moment all she could do was blink in response. In her panic it hadn’t occurred to her that Strand had just showed up out of nowhere, right when it had all started going pear-shaped. How had he known she was there? Why had he come looking for her?

“Ms. Reagan?”

Shaking herself out of her racing thoughts she reached into her pocket for her recorder. “I recorded our conversation.”

She played him the audio of her interaction with Wallis, from when he first caught her snooping in his barn to her mad dash out of there. Strand listened intently, his brow furrowing when he heard Wallis bring up Braun, if it was in confusion or agitation she couldn’t tell. After he’d listened to it once he asked her to play it again. “He’s involved in Sebastian’s kidnapping,” he stated after she’s turned the audio off.

"Which is why we need to go to the police," she reminded him.

“You realize we don’t have any proof?”

She stared at him incredulously. “He tried to kill us.”

“We don’t have any way to prove that. Nothing on that tape is in any way incriminating, other than you saying he has a gun and the vague sound of gun shots. It will be our word against his. As a former chief commissioner his word will carry a lot of weight."

Alex shook her head fervently. “He admitted that he knew that Braun had been involved in the case and that he’d refused to help the police further. How would he know that if he wasn’t involved?”

“You said it yourself in that recording, he could have friends within the police who told him about the ongoing investigation. That might be a problem for the person who told him but Mr. Wallis won’t have done anything illegal.”

She had to bite her tongue not to slash out in anger. As aggravating as his objections where she couldn’t deny that he was probably right. She let out a deep sigh and slumped back in her seat, all the fight leaving her as she came to accept the truth of what he was telling her. “So am I just supposed to pretend none of this happened?”

“No. You need to report this to the police if for no other reason than to make sure he doesn’t try to come after you again. But you should be realistic about your expectations.” 

Alex nodded in acceptance. 

He observed her in silence for a moment, seemingly searching for something but at the moment she was too wrung out to care. "What was the name of the officer who asked Braun to assist in the search for Sebastian?"

"Chief Colins."

Strand started the car back up. "Alright, we’ll go talk to him."


Alex request to talk to Chief Colins was initially met with a polite refusal. When she tried to insist it turned into scathing words and eye rolls. However, as soon as Strand began throwing around words like ‘former police commissioner’ and ‘attempted murder’ in a rather loud voice, the officer they’d been talking to became considerably more accommodating.

They were shown into an office and asked to wait for the police chief to join them. When the door closed after the officer and they were alone Alex turned to Strand, one eyebrow raised. “What happened to having no proof?”

He merely shrugged in response. “All the more reason to play up the emotional angle, they will hardly take us seriously if we’re calm about accusing someone of trying to kill us.”

“I thought you didn’t think they’ll believe us either way.”

“They won’t,” he agreed, then added with a smirk, “That doesn’t mean we need to make it easy for them.”

For the first time all day Alex found herself breaking a smile. Before she could come up with a witty retort however, the door opened and a middle-aged man entered. He had a round face and grey hair surrounding the balding dome comprising the crown of his head. He looked them over with wary eyes before taking a seat in the chair behind the desk. “Ms. Reagan, I assume?”

“Yes. We spoke on the phone last week. I’m with Pacifi-“

“I remember,” he interrupted, his voice gruff. He turned his eyes on Strand, his brow furrowing in thought. “And your friend?”

“This is Dr. Richard Strand,” Alex quickly interjected, before Strand could open his mouth and say something that would undoubtedly put him on the police chief’s bad side. “He’s working with me on the podcast.”

“Another psychic, huh?” the Chief said scornfully.

“Not at all,” answered Strand.  

Chief Colins merely huffed in response and turned his focus back to Alex. “We are in the middle of a very time sensitive investigation. I don’t appreciate having to take time out of my day to deal with meddling reporters coming here and causing a ruckus.”

Alex bristled at the accusation. “With all due respect, Chief Colins, I have information that could be vital in the search for Sebastian Torres.” When all she got in response was a quirked brow she leaned forward in her chair and looked him straight in the eyes. “I assume you’re familiar with Gordon Wallis. Not only did he threaten and try to shoot myself and Dr. Strand, I have reason to believe he’s involved in the kidnapping of Sebastian.”

“Funny you should say that,” the Chief drawled in response. “Cause I got a phone call from Gordon Wallis not twenty minutes ago. He said that a female reporter had illegally trespassed on his property and made unsubstantiated accusatory claims towards him. He also reported that when he tried to defend himself a male co-conspirator of the reporter showed up and threatened him.”

“That is not what happened,” Alex objected, unable to keep herself from raising her voice. “Mr. Wallis agreed to an interview and when I asked about his affiliation with the police he became hostile and tried to shoot me!”

He stared her down with narrowed eyes. “Do you have a written statement from Mr. Wallis stating his agreement to be interviewed?”

She forced herself to bite back a curse. “No, I had planned to have him sign one after our interview, however my plans got disrupted when he tried to kill me.”

“Gordon Wallis tells a different story.”

“Are we to understand then that you believe Mr. Wallis account of events?” Dr Strand remarked, before Alex could protest further.

Chief Colins hesitated for a split second before stating, “Gordon Wallis is an upstanding citizen of this community, not to mention former commissioner of this department. I have no reason to believe that he would make a false statement.”

“One would think that the events that led to Mr. Wallis retirement from his position as police commissioner would be enough to cast some shadow on his righteousness,” said Strand, his voice dripping with condescension.

Chief Colins shifted uneasily in his chair but his face remained carefully impassive. Alex had to bite her tongue not to demand an explanation. Clearly Strand knew something she didn’t and as much as it irked her that he was once again taking over the conversation she needed to let this play out and see if he could manage to sway the Police Chief to believe their story.

“There were never any charges filed against Mr. Wallis."

“Very convenient then that Mr. Wallis resigned of his own free will only two days after the allegations against him were made. Otherwise it might have seemed as if the LGPD was covering up for one of their own.”

“I don’t appreciate what your insinuating Dr. Strand. I can assure you that the LGPD take all allegations about misconduct of anyone in our department most seriously.”

“Then you won’t have any qualms about letting us take a look at the records from the investigation looking into the allegations made against Gordon Wallis by his ex-wife.”

Alex felt like she was watching a tennis match, only instead of a ball she was watching two men throwing arguments back and forth. 

“If you leave your contact information with the front desk Dr. Strand someone will have those documents sent to you. It might take a while, we are quite busy at the moment.” Chief Colins turned his gaze back to Alex and asked, “Do you have any physical evidence connecting Gordon Wallis to the kidnapping of Sebastian Torres?”

“No, but-”

He stood up from his seat, signaling that the conversation was over. “Keep away from the Torres family, Ms. Reagan. If I find you poking around in my investigation again I will be charging you with obstruction of justice.”

“Hold on a second,” Alex exclaimed, leaping out of her chair in slamming her hand down on the desk in anger. “You can’t just ignore what I’ve told you. I may not have any proof of his involvement in Sebastian’s disappearance but that doesn’t change the fact that Gordon Wallis tried to shoot us.”

“Officer Bale will take your statement and look into it,” Chief Colins replied, appearing completely unfazed by her outburst. “You might want to keep in mind however that this might prompt Mr. Wallis to report you for trespassing and harassment.

“I’ll take my chances,” she muttered as she sat back down.

As promised an officer came and took statements from both Alex and Strand about their encounter with Gordon Wallis. They left the police station in silence, Alex to worn out from the ups and downs of the day to even protest when Strand took the car keys from her.

She spent the drive to the hotel with her head leaning against the passenger window, struggling to keep her eyes open. She must have nodded off because suddenly Strand was pulling to a stop outside of the entrance to the hotel. 

“You head inside. I’ll park the car,” Strand told her.

Alex nodded in response and did as instructed. When she got to her room she went directly to the bed, collapsing on top of the covers. She knew there were thing she should do. Take a shower. Eat something. Call Nic and tell him what had happened. But she couldn’t muster the strength to do them. 

Someone had tried to shoot her.

As a reporter she wasn’t unfamiliar with people threatening or trying to intimidate her. She’d had people send letters threatening to kill her, had people yell at her and trying to get physical with her. But this had felt different. Those altercations had been people responding with anger, taking their grief or fear of a situation out on her because she’d been a convenient target. Gordon Wallis had been calm. Cold. Calculating.

And the worst part was that she’d been alone. If Strand hadn’t showed up she might not have made it out alive. She would have been shot dead, probably buried out in the woods, with no one ever knowing what happened to her. Just another-

Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

She ignored it. She just wanted to sleep. Preferably for a week.

Another knock, this time more insistent.

“Ms. Reagan?” Dr. Strand called from the other side of the door.

She continued to ignore it.

He knocked again, forcefully enough that she could feel the vibrations in the bed. “Ms. Reagan?! If you don’t open the door I’m going to get the manager and have him open it for me!”

Alex groaned into the pillow. She would have continued ignoring him if she hadn’t been confident that he would do as he threatened. Her limbs felt as if they were weighted down with lead but she managed to clamber her way of the bed and to the door.

Strand loomed in the doorway, the ever-present frown on his face making her already sour mood worse. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, “Look Strand, I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now, alright. Whatever it is it will have to wait until tomorrow, right now I just want some peace and quiet.”

His mouth snapped shut, apparently not having anticipated that reaction. “I didn’t-” he cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I’m not here to lecture you.

Alex crossed her arms and gave him her best ‘yeah right’ glare.

He let out a long sigh. "I owe you an apology." 

That was the last thing she had expected him to say and she found that she could only blink in response, caught completely off guard.

Strand’s entire body seemed to slump and she realized that he looked as exhausted as she felt. "You were right about Gordon Wallis. I should have listened to you and I shouldn’t have left you to confront him on your own."

"That’s…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say. The fact that the arrogant Dr Strand was not only apologizing but acknowledging that she’d been right would normally had made her feel triumphant, but today had not been a normal day. It was hard to take any pleasure in Strand’s admission of being wrong when she herself had messed up so royally. “It’s not your fault. There was no reason to think it would be a dangerous situation, it was just an interview. Even so, I should have known better than to put myself in that situation.”

"Yes, well… I’m still sorry."

“I forgive you,” she responded, and she meant it. How could she not when he appeared, for the first time since she’d meet him, to be genuinely remorseful.

He nodded in acceptance, but his demeanor revealed that he still felt uncomfortable. Whether that was because he still felt bad or because he was peeved he’d needed to apologize was anyone’s guess. “I… was going to order something to eat. Can I get you anything?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I still have some Chinese food left from yesterday.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He paused as if to say something else, then sighed again. "Good night, Alex."

"Good night, Strand." After she’d closed the door she let herself lean against it, eyeing the bed longingly. Tired as she was she knew she needed to eat something and she really should call Nic and tell him what had happened. But first she needed a shower. Tomorrow was a new day and as harrowing as today had been she was not going to back down from this story now. Gordon Wallis trying to kill her only proved that she was on to something and she was going to get to the bottom of it. And it looked like she might not need to do it on her own after all.