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♪It 's a song... it's just a song... ♪

♪ It's just a song... it's just a song ♪

♪ It's just a song about Ping-Pong! ♪

♪ Money order money, hear it today ♪

♪ I got another 15 seconds and I'm ready to play ♪

♪ I say money order money, hear it today ♪

♪ I got another 15 seconds and I'm ready to play ♪

♪ I got my, got my, got my, got my racket in hand ♪

♪ Not leaving till I play, don't think you understand ♪

♪ With that dirty dirty dirty dirty look on your face ♪

♪ I bet you know beef jerky has an aftertaste-- go! ♪

Tonight's top story:

a child abduction in Brooklyn.

The parents of Bailey O'Dell

plead with kidnappers for their child's safe return.

If the person who took Bailey is listening...

...we just want our child back.

We love Bailey so much.

N-- oh, no!

Our vic is Miranda Bauer...

...23, Columbia graduate student,

also a part-time receptionist at a financial investment firm.

Her cell's been ringing nonstop.

She's all dressed up.

Somebody's calling, wondering where she is.

I don't have the heart to answer it and tell whoever it is the bad news

that she's not going to make it.

There's several lacerations

and pieces of glass in the palms of her hands.

She tried to get up.

Means she was alive when the frame fell and busted her collarbone.

I imagine she tried to break the fall.

This sharp edge shattered the glass

and she went right through the window.

I'm coming up short on any witnesses.

A couple people heard the crash, but nobody saw what happened.

You two finding anything that says this is murder?

No defensive wounds.

No evidence of a struggle.

No indication that she was pushed.

Looks like Miranda Bauer simply stumbled out of her high-heeled shoes.

Stella, it's three nights in a row you've worked overtime.

You're running on fumes. Go home.

I'm fine, Mac.

Clearly, this is an accident. There's no need for both of us to be here.

Which means I'm going to wind up doing all the work anyway.

20 minutes from now, he's going to be on the train home as well.

Get out of here.

All right.

I don't want to go to bed!

I want to go home!

Sweetie, Jason's got ice cream, okay?

I don't want ice cream! Hey, Bonnie.

I just want to go home! Sounds like you have your hands full.

Oh, Stella.

Sorry.

My niece.

I volunteered to help my sister out,

and what we thought would be a fun little slumber party is basically a nightmare.

I apologize ahead of time if we keep you up.

Good night.

Good luck.

Why don't you go play with your doll?

Everybody out of the building!

It's a fire!Get out of the building!

Come on, people!Get out of the building!

Fire!

Go, go, go!

Get out! Go!

Hey, have you seen Bonnie? No.

She lives over here, uh,

blonde, she has a son that's 11.

Everybody out of the building!

Bonnie!

Bonnie!

Bonnie?!

Bonnie!

Anybody in here?!

Jason, come here. Jason, come on.

Where's your mother and your cousin?

I don't know. All right, just hold on and don't let go.

Come on.

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♪ Out here in the fields ♪

♪ I fight for my meals ♪

♪ I get my back into my living ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪

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You'll be okay.

Bonnie?!

Jason!

Are you all right?

How could you just leave him up there, Bonnie?

I thought you were right behind me on the fire escape. What happened?

I couldn't see you.

I'm so sorry, baby.

I didn't realize you weren't there until I got down here.

They wouldn't let me go back inside.

Where's your niece?

With the paramedics.

My sister's on her way. Are you okay?

Are you sure you're okay?

Yeah... Are you sure?

Come on.

Hey.

The sprinkler systems didn't work.

Here.

That's perfect.

So I got an extra room.

Thank you, Mac.

I think I'm better off staying at a hotel.

I snore.

Looks like it's arson.

Fire investigators determined the point of origin is down the hall.

And we got a victim.

Most significant burns are to the front of the body.

Stell, it'd be hard to tell who it is.

How many people lived in this apartment?

Uh... just one, I think.

A Sean...

I-I don't know his last name.

I met him in the elevator,

and then I think I saw him again twice after that.

According to the building's tenant manifest,

his last name's Nolan.

Lives alone; we're running the name with the DMV.

Maybe he has a car.

We can see what's inside, complete his story.

Nothing left in here gives us any help.

Excuse me.

Yeah.

He was so close to the door.

I can't imagine why he couldn't get out.

Flack said the fire started in this apartment.

Everything is pretty badly burned.

There's evidence of heavy and low burns.

A flashover.

Most of the furniture looks like it was incinerated in seconds.

And these burns on the hardwood floor--

they look like accelerant pour patterns.

You're thinking Sean started the fire?

But if he did, it doesn't add up;

he had plenty of time to make it out of the building.

Which is why I'm thinking someone else was here.

Maybe they had an argument, it got physical.

Sean Nolan goes down,

the attacker starts the fire and escapes.

Okay, but the fire investigator said the door was bolted.

We found the vic's keys on the table.

Can't bolt the door from the outside without the keys.

So maybe our "somebody else" didn't use the door.

The investigator said that this window was open.

That's a long jump.

Not impossible to survive,

but somebody's walking around with a broken tibia.

Our vic may be the fire starter.

Sean Nolan was convicted and served time

five years ago for arson.

Well, that might explain our malfunctioning sprinkler system.

Maybe he tampered with it.

I see doubt.

Doesn't fit the profile, Flack.

A guy starts a fire and then sticks around?

Most arsonists like to watch their work from across the street,down the block,

on the news.

Maybe this was Sean's idea of the perfect suicide.

Messer.

Hey, it's me.

Hey.

How's Stella doing? Is she okay?

Yeah, she's gonna be all right.

Well, you tell her if she needs anything-- all right?--

I mean anything-- I'm there.

I'll tell her.

So, listen, I was thinking before your shift maybe we could have lunch?

My turn to buy.

Actually, I got to run to the bank,

I got to run to the dry cleaners,

I got to... bring my bike to the shop.

I've been meaning to get it fixed.

Is everything okay?

What's wrong?

What are you talking about, "What's wrong?"

Nothing's wrong.

I just, I just got some stuff to do,

and, uh, I'll see you at work.All right?

Bye.

Maybe I should take a rain check on Messer's famous omelet.

It sounds like you have a busy day.

No, no, no, this is something you don't want to pass up.

This omelet is a masterpiece.

I'm making one for myself;

making two is like nothing.

Danny...

It's just a breakfast.Just breakfast, Rikki.

And last night was just sex.

Before my son died,

you were just a guy that I smiled at in the hallway

and joked with at the mailboxes.

What are we doing?

We're making each other feel better, all right?

Because Ruben's gone.

There's nothing wrong with that.

Danny...

One day, you're gonna wake up and realize

that Ruben's death wasn't your fault.

Yes, he was with you when he was shot,

but it was an accident.

And me...

Can't you see that I'm just taking advantage of the guilt you feel,

so that I don't have to be alone?

I don't care.

I don't care 'cause I just want this hurt to go away.

Don't you?

I really should go. Okay, okay.

But this is my shirt, all right?

I'm gonna need my shirt back, okay?

Before you go...

I must tell you, I don't, at this moment, have a C.O.D.

He didn't die of smoke inhalation?

No, because your victim didn't die in the fire.

The trachea was free of any soot deposits.

That means he wasn't breathing,

which means he definitely died before the fire.

And I ran DNA to confirm that this was our arsonist--

no match in our database.

Well, he'd have to be in there-- he's a convicted felon.

Yes, but there's a very good explanation.

Take a look at the FastSCAN.

Brow ridge and sinus cavity are small.

Your he is a she.

So this isn't the body of Sean Nolan.

Exactly.

Then who is she,

♪♪♪

The body we found in the apartment is a woman.

She was dead before the fire; 'cause of death, unknown.

Time of death?

The fire compromised all physiological indicators establishing T.O.D.

Flack is checking Missing Persons for a lead on the victim's identity.

He's also got an alarm out on NYSPIN

and a wanted card out on Sean Nolan.

Okay, so we're back to the evidence we collected from the scene.

Sid's preliminary autopsy report suggests our victim's age is

somewhere between 30 and 40.

I wouldn't guess she died of natural causes,

so our focus shifts to foul play.

How you doing? What'd I miss?

Perfect timing.

There's a lot of work to do.

Lindsay, catch Danny up.

Priority is the identity of our female victim.

I want to know who she is

and what's her connection to our arsonist Sean Nolan.

It may help us find him.

That fire may have been a cover-up for murder.

Why don't you catch up by reading this.

Yeah...

Is this real?

You think's someone's in trouble?

I don't know, Adam.

You know, I found these in my apartment after the fire.

The edges are singed and the paper is burned,

so, clearly, they were were in the apartment before the fire started.

And you don't recognize the writing?

No.

Maybe it's from a friend?

Oh, and this "friend" wrote me a note that said "Help me"?

Maybe you're a bad cook.

I'm-I'm just saying...

Uh, actually, Adam,

since I shot my boyfriend two years ago,

I don't exactly have people over.

Um... Well, maybe it's from like, uh...

a maid, building maintenance, gas company, doorman.

Nah, it doesn't make any sense.

I mean, I-I found these on the floor,

behind a piece of furniture.

If it hadn't fallen apart when I moved it,

I would've never have seen them.

If these notes were intended for me,

then why were they hidden?

"Please help me. Help my na..."

"my name," maybe?

Why don't you get a chemical fingerprint of the ink,

see if you can find a pen manufacturer.

Oh, and age the ink solvent.

Maybe that will tell me how long ago these were written.

I'll let you know what I find.

Oh, and, Stella? Um...

I'm, uh...

I'm-I'm glad you're okay.

Thanks, Adam.

What do you see?

Goldfish?

They were in Sean Nolan's apartment,

and these two little guys are going to help us establish our vic's time of death.

If goldfish are left in the dark

for an extended period of time, their color starts to fade.

They're made up of cells called chromatophores

that produce pigments which reflect light

and give coloration.

These pigments are stimulated by sunlight,

much the way a humans tan in the sun.

Pale pink is the result of roughly three to five days of darkness--

possibly our vic's time of death.

So you're saying our vic was dead in that apartment

at least two days prior to the fire?

And Sean Nolan wasn't there either?

The fish are faded.

Means no lights were turned on, the blinds were closed.

Basically no signs of life.

We normally determine time of death based on lividity,

but the fire compromised the body.

So what are we thinking here?

Our arsonist killed our vic, panics

takes off for a few days, but knowing he has a dead body in his apartment,

he comes back and sets a fire?

It's murder-- it doesn't have to make sense.

Hawkes.

Okay, okay. Let us know.

That's Flack.

He's got our arsonist, Sean Nolan, in custody.

Boom! A woman burned to death, Sean.

Her name is Marla Bronson.

She was taking care of my fish.

And killing her is your way of saying thanks?

I'll say it again: I have been in Boston

for the past week attending an insurance convention.

It takes a second to strike a match,

and less than an hour to get back to Boston by plane.

Is that the story? Did I figure it out?

You look a little nervous.

You just told me that someone I cared about is dead.

And you're accusing me of taking her life, which I did not do!

And I did not burn down my own home!

This wasn't an amateur job, Sean.

Somebody definitely knew what he was doing.

What kind of accelerant did you use?

Same as the last fire?

Lighter fluid?

Your neighbors don't have anywhere to live, Sean.

Some of them lost everything they owned.

Did you watch from across the street?

Did the fire excite you?

Maybe you were down the block, in the high-rise,

watching the plumes of black smoke.

I made a mistake in my past...

and I served my time!

I did not kill Marla, and I did not start that fire,

and I am done talking to you.

One of your neighbors is someone I care a lot about.

She no longer has a place to live,

and she risked her life pulling a boy out of that building

And when I prove you did this,

you will answer to me.

Marla Bronson's death is the result of a car accident.

I noticed small hairline fractures

on both her right and left thumbs,

roughly in the same place.

Fractures commonly caused by the release of an airbag.

Right. The driver holds onto the steering wheel,

airbag releases, and the impact fractures

the proximal phalanx of both hands.

But, Sid, nobody dies from broken thumbs.

Official C.O.D. is massive internal hemorrhaging.

This is Marla's ruptured spleen.

The damage to her body by the fire delayed my discovery.

Now, this, uh, tear in the tissue suggests

that the impact was pretty significant.

Despite that, her death wasn't immediate.

Because someone can suffer a ruptured spleen

and walk around for a couple days and not even know it.

Which would explain why she wasn't in a hospital.

So Marla had a car accident.

Days later, she collapsed because she was hemorrhaging.

She was dead on the ground in Nolan's apartment when the fire started.

And if we go with my goldfish theory,

time of death was roughly three days ago.

With that said, we can confidently draw the conclusion

that not only didn't she die in the fire,

but this is not a homicide.

But, Sid, if Sean Nolan didn't start the fire

to cover up her murder, what are we looking at here?

The fire didn't start in Sean Nolan's apartment.

But there were accelerant pour patterns, a flashover.

He's a suspect who's been convicted of arson.

You're gonna have to have a pretty good defense to counter that.

Exhibit A.

I took a sample of the floor

to determine the exact type of accelerant used.

I found traces of gasoline.

Now, I know there's no better fuel to start a fire, right?

I also found

varnish on the wood, so I took a surface sample--

no gasoline.

So the accelerant was beneath the varnish?

Or... mixed in.

Sometimes gas is used as a thinner for paints and varnishes,

and if burned, can be mistaken for pour patterns.

And suddenly, we have no evidence of accelerant.

What about the flashover and the evidence

of heavy and low burns?

Exhibit B.

Most of the furniture in Sean Nolan's apartment

was comprised of polyurethane foam.

Which is highly flammable; goes up in seconds.

It turned the apartment into an incinerator.

And explains the flashover.

So if the fire didn't start in Sean Nolan's apartment,

where'd it start?

I don't know.

Well, let's find out.

Nolan's apartment sustained the most damage,

as well as the apartment on the upper floor.

The adjacent apartment, here, is vacant.

That's Bonnie Dillard's apartment and mine.

And they both sustained

significant damage.

Doesn't give us a lot

to work with and we still don't have a motive.

So, what if a fire started in the vacant apartment?

Okay, let's try to prove that.

The exterior wall is brick.

It slows the fire.

And there's no furniture or flammables

in this room to fuel the blaze.

Right, but wouldn't that explain

why the fire traveled left and right?

Something's got to pull it in some direction, Lindsay.

The vacant apartment was the least damaged.

It's as if the flames just skipped right over it.

You eliminated Sean Nolan's apartment,

Stella didn't start the blaze.

That leaves one option.

Bonnie Dillard's apartment.

Mac.

Found this cigarette lighter under the bed.

I've got partial prints.

Bonnie's a smoker.

I can't believe she'd do something like this.

Isn't this her son's room?

If the fire started in here,

why did it do the most damage

to Nolan's apartment, which is further away?

A fire feeds on oxygen. It searches for it.

The window in Nolan's apartment must've been open.

The flames traveled through this air duct.

Lindsay, collect anything we can lift prints from and get it back to the lab.

We should be able to generate our own secondary reference sample

from items belonging to Bonnie or Jason.

We'll compare them to the partials on the lighter.

Someone in this apartment started that fire.

Flack just called.

Bonnie Dillard didn't leave a forwarding address with your super,

so he's going to check all hotels,

bus and train stations.

Linds, are you two seeing this?

You happen to have a picture of Jason or Bonnie?

I didn't know them that well.

You know, maybe I could give a description to a sketch artist.

Are you sure this is right?

I ran it twice, got the same result.

Doesn't make sense that this print would match the partial

we found on the lighter.

It's completely unrelated.

You guys want to let us in on this?

So far, none of the prints we've lifted off the Dillards' personal items

have been a match to those we found on the lighter.

So it wasn't Bonnie Dillard or her son that started the fire.

So, we're back to our arsonist Sean Nolan?

No.

Partials on the lighter are small.

They belong to a child.

To Bailey O'Dell.

The little girl who's been missing?

How's that possible?

Her parents registered her thumbprint

on our Safe Child database. I don't want to go to bed.

I want to go home! There's no question. It's a match.

£¿£¿ You want some ice cream? I want to go home!

It was her.

Bonnie Dillard has her.

She said it was her niece.

You saw Bailey O'Dell? No.

I heard her.

She was in Bonnie's apartment.

She was right next door.

I didn't see her. I heard her.

She was saying she wanted to go home.

How can we be sure that

that was Bailey O'Dell?

Because that's the only explanation

of how that little girl's prints were on the lighter.

She was within my reach, Mac. Right there.

I'll track down the other tenants

in the building, see if they can give us anything.

I want a subpoena on Bonnie Dillard's entire life; check with DMV on a vehicle.

I know she had a van-- silver.

Where does Bonnie work?

She's a... a florist.

Specialty place.

Does arrangements for hotels and high-end parties.

I-I don't know the name of the business.

What about Jason's school?

Any clubs, after-school activities?

I moved in two years ago.

I didn't make an effort to get to know anyone.

Hallway relationships.

Bonnie ever talk about her family?

She never mentioned a sister until last night,

and clearly that was a lie.

To tell you the truth,

I don't even know if Bonnie Dillard's her real name.

Right here.

There we go.

Let's try this.

Blonde woman, uh, five-eight.

She has a son.

He's 11 years old.

His name is Jason.

Jason Dillard.

Well, let me make it simpler:

Is there any male child,

11 years old, who's absent from school today?

We have a sketch that we can fax over.

No, I get it.

Thank you.

There, that's her van coming out of the building's garage.

That's definitely Bonnie.

Let's see if we can get the plate.

We got it; we'll set up an Amber Alert.

Thanks, Hawkes.

Thank you.

I'm going to get some coffee.

You want some coffee?

No.

Thanks.

How long are you going to stay mad at me, Linds?

Oh, is that what this is?

Me mad at you?

Is this still about missing your birthday?

Look, I didn't want to go to lunch yesterday.

Why do you got to make such a big deal out of it?

Do me a favor, Danny--

don't reduce me to some shallow, clingy girlfriend

that's starting to suffocate you,okay?

That's not what this is about.

Ever since Ruben Sandoval died...

...I feel like I've lost my best friend.

And don't mistake this for jealousy, okay?

I know what it's like to lose someone you care about.

To see them one day and then not see them the next,

and to know you're never going to see them again.

I would never expect you not to grieve.

But clearly, you know,

you've just decided to do it all on your own.

Okay.

I get it.

My mistake for thinking that you might need somebody to lean on.

And you know, for the record, I'm not mad at you.

I'm mad at myself.

Because I've fallen in love with you

and I have to figure out how to let that go.

We found Bonnie's van.

It appears to be abandoned.

Now, Flack posted unis at the scene,

just in case she comes back.

I sent a crew to process it.

Hopefully, they'll find something

that'll lead us back to Bailey O'Dell.

What about Jason Dillard? Where is he?

There was a tenant in the building

who actually knew what school he went to.

He hasn't been there in over a week.

Even before the fire.

I think Bonnie has him with her.

But he's already a troubled kid.

I can't imagine what he's thinking now.

He's troubled in what way?

When I first moved into my apartment,

he made a hole in the grout of an adjacent brick wall.

What the...?

What the heck?

Hey.

Where is it, Jason?

I don't know.

Boy stuff, right?

He could see right through to my bedroom.

He's just 11 years old.

So much of this case doesn't make any sense.

How does the fire play into all of this?

And why does a six year-old little girl

even know how to use a lighter?

What?

For the last two days, I've been trying to figure out

how to gingerly tell you to sit this one out--

go deal with the loss of your home,

take care of yourself-- but I realize now

what a total waste of my breath that would have been.

Hey, guys.

Bonnie Dillard called her insurance company

about issuing a check for the damage to her apartment.

She give an address?

She requested they call her when the check was ready

and she'd pick it up.

It's an ongoing arson investigation;

they won't process claims for at least another two weeks.

Or maybe with a little encouragement from us,

they can do it sooner.

Mm! My man's getting sneaky.

Have the insurance company call Bonnie Dillard,

tell her to pick her check up in an hour.

It's always the greed that gets them.

Danny, there she is.

Print green shirt, brown pants, sunglasses,

heading towards the insurance building.

You approach her. I'll cut her off.

Bonnie?

Hey, how you doing? Do I know you?

Uh, no. Not yet.

Don't move!

Where is she, Bonnie?

Where's Bailey O'Dell?

Come on, Bonnie-- you abandoned your own son in that fire

because you knew you had to hide that little girl before the police arrived.

Her face was all over the news.

You knew we'd know who she was.

Where is she?

I believe I have the right to remain silent.

Come on.

Where are you keeping Bailey O'Dell?

You know, I don't understand this.

My home just burned down,

my son was almost killed in the fire,

my niece is sick from the smoke.

She's not your niece, Bonnie.

You took this little girl from her family

and they want her back!

Well, they can't have her back.

Why not?

Because she's much happier where she is now.

And where is that, Bonnie?

Someplace beautiful and peaceful.

Better than with them.

They're divorced, you know.

Her mother's a single parent.

She works part-time at my floral shop.

Brings the kid in when she can't get a babysitter.

It was so easy to take her

'cause she knew me already.

When I was pregnant, they told me

I shouldn't be a single mother.

They said a child should have two parents.

When you were pregnant with Jason?

No.

This was before Jason.

And you gave the baby up for adoption?

They took her from me.

Bonnie, don't take this little girl from her family.

It's done!

They're not getting her back.

Just tell me where she is.

Is Jason with her?

Shouldn't I have a lawyer?

I mean, I'm not sure I should say anything more.

Stella?

Is Bonnie Dillard capable of murder?

If you'd asked me a week ago,

if I thought she could abduct a child I'd have said no.

And now?

I think she's capable of anything.

I think I might have a possible lead

on where Bonnie Dillard is holding Bailey O'Dell;

it's just a lead, though. We'll take whatever we can get.

Sandplain gerardia.

It's a pollen grain that fell off Bonnie's clothing.

She's a florist.

It makes sense to find that kind of trace.

Right, but this particular pollen

comes from the only federally protected endangered plant species in all of New York state.

In fact, six of the 12

natural populations in the world are in Long Island.

So we go to Long Island.

No, because I don't think that's where this pollen originated.

I found traces of a chemical toxin.

Now, the plants in Long Island,

they're not only endangered, they're federally protected.

There's no way they would let a toxin

interfere with the growth of the plant.

So it means this plant is growing somewhere else in New York.

Illegally.

So it's illegal to grow this plant?

Well, somebody had to steal a protected plant

to grow it outside of Long Island.

They could be federally prosecuted,

which is why I'm having trouble locating it.

Anybody who would know anything isn't talking.

So I made a few scientific, educated assumptions.

Now, wherever these plants are, they're near a factory.

That makes sense--

the toxins are carried by the wind,

deposited over the plants.

I've cross-referenced all the factories emitting that same toxin

with any vacant lots,

empty buildings, greenhouses in the city.

I can't promise anything,

but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

What do you want to do?

Well, let's hope Lindsay gets us something.

In the meantime, we go with the only thing we've got:

Bonnie Dillard in custody.

We got to get her to tell us

where she's holding that little girl.

Lindsay...

I'm sorry.

We should-- we should talk.

We have a rooftop address.

Get Stella.

Stella!We've got a lead on the little girl that was missing.

Adam, can I catch up with you later?

No. No, look, okay.You need to know this. I'm not playing around.

All right, you got 15 seconds.

The notes you gave me were written approximately

two years ago by an ordinary, everyday ink pen.

Oh, there better be more.

I decided to look a little closer and I found

traces of quartz, clay, limestone and gypsum.

Brick mortar.

The mortar acted as a developer

of several latent prints that otherwise would have evaporated.

Okay, so now I got a bunch of prints,

and what am I supposed to do but run them through the database.

Got no hits on any criminal activity,

but they were a match to the prints that Lindsay

and Hawkes lifted from the items in Bonnie Dillard's apartment.

Which items?

Football, basketball, iPod.

These prints belong to Jason Dillard.

He wrote those notes, Stella. He wrote "Help me."

She took him, too.

Hey, Mac.

Hold your fire!

Did you write these?

I am so sorry, Jason.

I just found them yesterday.

And now I realize

what a terrible, terrible mistake I made.

I accused you of something that wasn't true, and...

you were just pushing these notes through the wall

because you needed my help.

Oh, I'm so sorry I never got them.

I really am. That's okay.

I found out my first mom didn't want me anyway.

Who told you that? Bonnie?

Am I going to jail?

For what?

That dead body.

You and Bailey started the fire.

She was scared and wanted to go home.

I thought the fire would be a good idea

because the police would come.

I didn't want to burn anybody.

Of course you didn't.

No, Jason, you're not going to jail, okay?

Is Jason your real name?

No, just pretend.

What'd your first mom call you?

Austin Tanner.

I like that name.

Me, too.

You're going to be okay, Austin.

Austin will be a bit confused.

He's been told that you don't want him.

And he believes that woman who took him rescued him.

She used words to gain his trust and love.

He never ran away because

she convinced him there was no place to run to.

It'll probably take awhile for him to show affection

and he'll want to know why you never came to get him.

Children believe their parents can do anything.

So, saying you couldn't find him

or you tried everything,

just may not be enough.

Just be patient, Ms. Tanner.

I will.

He's coming home.

Austin Tanner was reunited with his family today,

after four years as a kidnap victim.

Let me look at you.

Let me look at you.Oh, my God!

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