Chapter 1-The Past
"We have a case right here in DC," JJ said. "Two murders in one night. Both in the same household. Viviana and Amos Romano. They have a daughter, Clara, who is 15."
"Is there any sign of rape?" Morgan asked.
"No, but the wife was strangled to death and the husband shot 3 times in the head."
"Is the daughter at the police station?" Hotch scanned over the crime scene pictures on the tablet. JJ nodded.
"Wasn't there a case similar to this last week? The wife was shot though and the husband was strangled," Morgan spoke.
"Yeah, but it was in Williamsburg. A few hours from here" ,Reid said. "Amy and Caleb Dann. They had no children. The local police were taking care of that case, but never found any evidence of who the killer was. It remained unsolved."
"Then why did they bring us into this one? It isn't much different," Rossi looked at JJ.
"Strauss said it was because they were so similar in time, place, and way of murder. It might give them a lead on that case and this one," JJ responded.
"What was the occupation of the Romanoes and Danns?" Hotch asked.
"I'm not sure," JJ flipped through her stack of papers.
"Sorry I'm late everyone!" Garcia ran in the conference room as fast as her green heeled feet could take her. "I overslept. Sorry Hotch," she responded quickly to the glare he was giving her.
He shook his head and said, "Have a seat. I need you to look up the jobs of the two families involved in this case."
JJ handed Garcia her tablet. She immediately started tapping. After about 30 seconds, Garcia said, "Got it! Caleb Dann was a 4th grade teacher at Brooks Elementary School in Williamsburg. Amy worked for Interpol in England. Then transferred to the US eight years ago. She met Caleb a few months later, and they got married after a year."
Prentiss flinched a bit when "Interpol" was said. Reid was the only one who noticed and gave her a glance that asked 'Are you okay?'. She nodded.
"I'm surprised because Amy was an Interpol agent, they didn't send someone in sooner. What about the Romanos?" Morgan asked slightly looking at Prentiss.
Thirty more seconds passed of red painted nails tapping against the touch screen. "Viviana was an architect for Exclusive Homes, and Amos worked for Interpol first in Italy, then transferred to the US eight years ago."
Again, Prentiss shifted uncomfortably in her seat. From across the table, Reid saw a worried look on her face. This time, she didn't meet his eyes.
X X X
Clara Romano was texting and listening to music when the team walked in. A police officer tapped her on the shoulder and told her the FBI wanted to talk to her. Since last night, she spoke to no one and ignored nearly everybody. Who could blame her. Her parents, the only family she ever knew, were dead.
Hotch met up with the man in charge. "Agent Hotchner, nice to see you again.". They shook hands.
"You too, Officer Greene. So did you find any evidence?"
"Well, actually we were waiting to go back to the crime scene until you got here. You possibly would have seen something we missed. We just did a sweep of the bodies."
Hotch looked kind of aggravated at this news, but tried not to show it. "Reid, Prentiss. You talk to Clara. JJ, we don't have a profile yet so talk to Garcia about possible suspects. Morgan, come with me to the crime scene."
"Where did Rossi go?" Morgan asked.
"He stayed with Garcia for some reason. Something about learning how to use Twitter?" Hotch facepalmed.
Everyone headed to where they were supposed to go.
"Hi, Clara," Prentiss said as she sat down beside her. "I'm Agent Emily Prentiss and this is Dr. Spencer Reid." Reid waved his hand and sat on the other side of Clara. "We would like to ask you a few questions."
She brushed her long dark brown hair out of her piercing blue eyes, and looked up at Prentiss, saying nothing.
The cop who tried to get her attention earlier spoke. "She's said nothing since the 911 call. We've tried nearly everything to get her to talk. Given her food. Brought in her friends. Everyone at the station tried to get her to speak."
Reid spoke to Clara next. "I know how you feel about losing your parents. You have no one to turn to. Especially if they were your last relatives."
This caught her attention. "You lost your parents," Clara whispered. "But not through murder."
"My dad left when I little because my mom has schizophrenia. She's in a mental institution now," Reid looked down at his tapping foot.
There was a moment of silence before Clara whispered again, "Mi dispiace tanto. Se fa una consolazione mi รจ stato adottato."
"Were you just speaking in Italian?" Prentiss asked.
Clara nodded. "It's my first language. I was born and raised in Italy for seven years. Then when Papa got the job here in the US, I had to learn English."
"You said 'I am so sorry. If its any consolation, I was adopted'," Prentiss said.
"Tu parli Italiano?" Clara asked in shock.
Prentiss nodded, "Si."
"Can we please switch back to English?" Reid pleaded.
The girls laughed and Prentiss said fine.
"My real mom was originally going to have an abortion," Clara twirled her phone in her hands,"but she changed her mind and had me put up for adoption."
Prentiss thought back to when she had her baby in Italy. She had the same thoughts about abortion but changed her mind.
"Prentiss, are you okay?" Reid asked.
She flashed back to the present. "Yeah, I'm fine. I need to go to the restroom. Reid, can you talk to her by yourself?"
"Yeah, of course." He turned to Claire. "Is there anyone you know of that seemed like they didn't like your parents?"
Clara shook her head as Prentiss headed to the restroom.
In the empty bathroom, Prentiss put both hands on either side of a sink thinking, "What are the odds that I see my daughter in a different county in which I left her?"
She stared at herself in the mirror and thought what similarities Clara had to her. Near-black, naturally straight hair. Eyes are different. When Emily was fifteen, she was pretty tall. Clara seems to be that way.
But there are still the odds of finding one kid out of 8 billion people. Either way, Prentiss still felt the need to protect Clara.
Prentiss had to come out sometime. She had been in the bathroom for at least ten minutes. As she was about to walk out, Clara walked in.
"Reid sent me in to get you. He was worried," she said.
Prentiss sighed. "Typical Reid. I have a question. How did you find out your parents were dead?" she asked.
Claire hesitated. "Dr. Reid already asked me this question."
"Oh, well you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Prentiss said sympathetically with her hand on Clara's shoulder. They walked out of the restroom.
"I heard a gunfire. It was muffled but i heard it. It was around midnight when it happened. I didn't get out of bed until 3am because he would have killed me too. When i did get out of my room, I saw Dad with blood all over his face. Mom just had a blank stare in her eyes," Claire spoke softly. "Its a terrible feeling when someone you love is taken away from you.". There was a pause as they stood in the hallway. "When I saw them, I immediately called 911. But I already knew they were dead."
"Im sorry, Clara. If I had known this..."
"It's fine... And Dr. Reid, Agent Prentiss, I appreciate your support," Claire said sitting down. "However, that won't change I'm going to an orphanage or foster home."
"Maybe you don't have too," Prentiss said. Reid gave her a crazy look. "You could stay with me until we find you a home."
"But you have your job," Clara said checking the time on her phone.
"We'll work around it," Prentiss nodded. Clara's face lit up. "We can stop by your home and pick some things up today."
"Emily", Reid motioned her over ,"how are you going to take care of her with your job?"
"I'll figure it out. I can't let her go."
"Yet you can let the other kids who lost a family member go."
"She has no one, Reid. All her family is in Italy, but her life is here," Emily facepalmed. "I feel like I have to protect her. Like she's my daughter."
Reid nodded. "I see. I can try to help."
Prentiss laughed. "I appreciate it, Spencer. Now talking about it to Hotch will be a problem."
X X X
"Morgan, look around downstairs for something that may help. I'll check upstairs."
Hotch ventured upstairs of the home. It was fairly big. Four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, and a pool. They had a lot of money. Then again, the mother was an architect. The father worked for Interpol.
Hotch went into the master bedroom. The bodies were taken for an autopsy, but the rest of the evidence remained. He was looking around on the dresser, when a manilla envelope caught his eye. There was no return address. Hotch looked inside. There was a picture of a woman. Of Emily Prentiss.
A/N: I know this makes Prentiss like 30, but let us just pretend she's older, K? ~Torkidog
