Steven smelled whiskey on the man's breath and said nothing. Eggleston was a grieving father. Steven would have preferred to see the man sober, though, if for no other reason than to answer the questions he needed to ask. But everyone dealt with grief and terror differendy. While Marvin Eggleston blustered, his petite wife sat quietly crying.

Anna Eggleston grabbed her husband's arm, holding on for dear life. Her face was haggard, her eyes haunted. Beyond pale, her skin had a translucence, the look of being stretched too thin over her bones that came from forty-eight hours of constant fear and tears. Her voice shook when she spoke and Steven's pity grew. "Marvin, please. Serena will hear you." Steven was grateful Mrs. Eggleston's mother had taken four-year-old Serena upstairs when he arrived. No child needed to see her parents so wildly grieving. More tears welled in Anna's eyes and spilled to her cheeks, unchecked. "You're not helping. Please, sit down." She turned to Steven. "I'm sorry. It's just that we've had no sleep." She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking as a new wave of sobs took over. "We can't sleep. He has my baby," she whispered, her hand still clutching her husband's arm.

Steven placed his hand over hers, feeling the chill of her skin. "It's all right, Mrs. Eggleston. I truly understand. You don't have to apologize to me." He placed his other hand on Marvin's arm, creating a circle, connecting them. "Mr. Eggle-ston, if I knew where your daughter was, believe me, she'd be with you right now. I know it doesn't help, but we're doing everything we can."

Eggleston slumped, his chin dropping to his chest. "God, I can't believe this," he whispered. "I feel so damn helpless." He looked up and in his eyes Steven recognized the desperate terror he himself felt when that bastard Winters held Nicky.

"Yesterday, the young one from your office…" Eggleston shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "The one that took the cast of Sammie's footprint outside her w indow."

"Agent Thompson?"

Eggleston nodded, not breaking eye contact. "Yes, he's the one. He said it had happened to you. That someone had stolen your child out of his bed."

Steven wasn't sure whether to thank Kent or curse him to eternal perdition. "That's true."

Anna looked up, her face streaked and puffy. "But you got your son back."

Steven nodded. "I did, yes."

She bit her lip. "Was he… all right? After you got him back?"

Steven knew what she was asking. Was his baby molested? Was his baby normal? Was his family normal? The answer to every one of those questions was a resounding no. "The man that abducted my son didn't physically hurt him, if that's what you mean, Mrs. Eggleston. But no, my son is not all right. He has nightmares. He refuses to sleep in his own bed. His schoolwork suffers. He doesn't hug anyone and hasn't since that day."

The Egglestons absorbed this information. Finally Marvin Eggleston drew a deep breath. "So even if we get her back, she won't be our daughter anymore, will she?" he asked gruffly.

Steven carefully avoided the "if." These parents were grasping at straws, trying to hold on to hope. "She'd need counseling. You all will."

Anna blinked, sending fresh tears down her stained cheeks. "You did?"

Steven nodded. "I did." He squeezed Anna's hand and Marvin's arm, then let go and sat back in his chair. "I need to ask you all some more questions. Some of them may sound the same as questions I asked yesterday and the day before. Please don't become frustrated with this process, though. Sometimes you remember tidbits today that you didn't think about yesterday."

"And those tidbits could help you find our Sammie," Anna said, very faintly.

"They might."

Marvin Eggleston pulled his chair forward and collapsed into it. "Then ask."

"Please understand I am in no way blaming your daughter for what happened," Steven began. Marvin held out his hand and Anna placed hers in his, the gesture so trusting that Steven found himself wishing he had someone to lean on. Jenna. Steven let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding and focused on his notebook. "Can you tell me about Samantha's friends?"

"She was popular," Anna said. "She had lots of friends."

"Did she date?"

Anna shook her head. "She had a boyfriend, but they broke up about six weeks ago."

"What happened?"

Anna lifted a shoulder wearily. "They're sixteen. Nothing lasts forever when you're sixteen."

"Why did they break up, Mrs. Eggleston?"

Anna clearly hesitated and Marvin turned to fully face her. "What, Anna? What happened that you two didn't tell me?"

Anna sighed. "He dropped her for another girl."

Steven watched Marvin's fist deliberately clench and release. "You didn't approve of the boy I take it?" Steven asked and Marvin tightened his jaw.

"No, I didn't. He was a fast boy."

Anna laid her hand on Marvin's arm again, this time gently. "And she said 'no,' Marvin. That's why he dumped her for another girl."

Marvin swallowed hard. "She cried for a week over that sorry piece of shit."

Steven cleared his throat and Marvin looked up, his eyes filled with tears. The sight shook Steven soundly. "Does the sorry piece of shit have a name?" he asked carefully.

"Gerald Porter," Anna said, stroking her husband's arm as Steven scratched the name on his notepad. "She didn't want you to know because she knew you' d give him a piece of your mind."

"And I would have, too," Marvin muttered.

"And she would have been embarrassed," Anna murmured. "She wanted to keep her dignity at school. To hold her head high and pretend Gerald hadn't hurt her so badly."

"So she may have been vulnerable in that respect," Steven said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean by that?" Marvin demanded.

"Not that Samantha did anything wrong, Mr. Eggleston," Steven reminded him and Marvin's body relaxed a notch or two. "Just that if she'd been abandoned by the sorry Gerald, then maybe she would have been more readily accepting of someone new. Who would she have confided in?"

"My wife," Marvin said.

"JoLynn Murphy," Anna said at the same time. "I know you think my relationship with Samantha is that close, Marvin, but it isn't. She doesn't tell me everything."

"She loves you," Marvin said, desperately.

"Of course she does," Anna murmured, stroking his arm. "She loves you, too. But I was a sixteen-year-old girl once and I didn't tell my mother everything." She looked over at Steven. "I also understand that you found no evidence of forced entry into the house or her bedroom. Wherever she is, she started out, at least, of her own free will."

It was true, Steven thought. No forced entry and Saman-tha's perfectly formed shoe print outside her window. What could he say? "If not her own free will, at least on her own two feet. JoLynn says she hasn't talked with Samantha in over a week. Did she have any other friends?"

Anna closed her eyes, thinking. "Pamela Droggins," she said finally. "And Emily Robinson. They're all on the cheer-leading squad together." She opened her eyes. "And Wanda Pritchard. They knew each other from the drama club. I don't think I gave you Wanda's name the other day."

Steven smiled at her. "No, ma'am, you didn't. Thank you for trying so hard to remember. Now, do you happen to know the name of the girl that Gerald Porter dumped her for?"

Anna shook her head. "No, she wouldn't tell me that. All she would say is that the new girl 'put out.'" She curled her lip distastefully. "Sammie said she was a low-class slut."

Steven looked at his notepad. He had names of one new friend and a sorry piece of shit and an unnamed low-class slut. Progress. He stood up and slid his pen in his pocket. "I want to thank you for your time," he said. "I know how difficult a time this is for your family."