NOTE: This is my first story that's realistic. XD I just noticed that. The rest of mine are either fantasy, sci-fi or historical. This is my only story that might actually happen. I really don't know. Anyway, the point is, this is really outside of my comfort zone and I'm not sure how it will turn out, but I hope that people will enjoy it all the same. There is an added character by my sister, Abby Glazer. Basically, I'm writing about after Sandra joins and she's writing pre and post Sandra. This is set just after the start of season six, right when JJ leaves, but you'll see what I do with that. Enjoy~
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"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." –Norman Cousins
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She was there for me after Haley's death. Day in and day out. Night after night. I battled my own personal demons, trying to lead the Behavioral Analysis Unit, but I couldn't do it. When I came back to the BAU, I wasn't Unit Chief anymore. That was Derek Morgan's new job. He was doing well.
But I was a broken man. I couldn't lead the BAU. Hell, I could barely care for Jack. I had to have help, but that was ok. She knew how to care for a boy, seeing as she had one about the same age- Aaron. My name. I share my name with her boy. He inherited her black hair. It sticks up in the back.
When I returned, the team tried to coddle me. I told them that it was ok, that I didn't need it, and they stopped. Oh, I still wasn't Unit Chief, but I still went on cases as a regular agent. I was also able to balance work and caring for Jack. It didn't help anything that I saw Haley's face in every victim. I was eventually able to stop it, and remembered that she'd want me to celebrate her life.
My outlook on life improved. I became a better father. I wasn't so clueless when it came to parenting anymore. And you know what? It was all because of Sandra Shea Abner.
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It was the day that Aaron Hotchner was reinstated as Unit Chief. Sandra walked into the conference room, her straight black hair slightly disheveled. Most unusually, Garcia was sitting there too. Morgan nudged Sandra playfully as she sat down. "Didja have a late night?" He grinned.
Sandra pushed one lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh like you had last week with…oh, what's her name? Jessica? Or maybe Jennifer?" She smirked. "Or Jacinth?"
Everyone laughed. That is, until JJ came in with their new case. "Emily Andersen. She's the third young woman to go missing in San Diego this month," she said.
"What about the first two?" asked Prentiss. "What happened to them?"
JJ put up the other two pictures up. "Alyson Walsh and Diana Ross."
"Oh, like the lead singer of the Supremes?"
"No, smart one. A fifteen year old girl," said JJ with an incredulous stare. "They were found on top of the sign of the local high school in a community called University City exactly one week apart. Both were raped and it looked like they'd been beaten or tortured. Both of their ankles were broken."
"When did the bodies surface?" asked David Rossi.
"Diana Ross went missing the day after Alyson Walsh's body was found," said JJ. "Emily Andersen went missing after Diana Ross's body was found. The bodies are always found on Friday and the next girl goes missing on Saturday."
Hotch stood up. "Wheels up in an hour."
"Will do, Hotch," said Sandra.
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"I've got to go to San Diego this time, Nicholas," Sandra said, twisting her wedding ring on her finger, as she always did when she was nervous.
Nicholas held her. "It'll be ok, sweetie."
She snuggled in closely. "You know I hate it when you call me that," she said jokingly. Sandra's petite frame of 5'3'' folded quite easily into his 6'6'' frame. It looked like Sandra was a paper being folded into an envelope.
Nicholas kissed the top of her head. "You'll be fine, Sandra. This isn't your first case."
"I know, but it still scares me. I can't get used to it."
"You wouldn't be able to, not after only roughly ten cases," he said.
"I thought I'd be prepared for this, with all my SWAT team experience. And when I was a prison guard or a regular police officer! It just isn't preparing me like I thought it would."
"This is something different, Sandra, and you know it. Back then, you weren't analyzing their minds. You were just arresting them."
"I can't argue with you, can I?" Sandra laughed. "I guess I'll just have to grit my teeth and do it. Why aren't you in school?"
"The school said I had to use some of my sick days. I've got the week off," Nicholas said. Their four year old son Aaron walked in. He ran over to Sandra and she picked him up.
"Mommy's gonna leave for a while, ok?" Nicholas told Aaron.
Aaron looked at Sandra with wide eyes. "Why, Mommy?"
"Mommy's gonna go catch the bad guy. Just like Superman!"
Aaron grinned at her. "Like Superman!"
"Give your mommy a kiss goodbye, Aaron," said Nicholas.
Aaron kissed Sandra on the cheek and put his little arms around her neck, as far as they could reach. Sandra hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Aaron."
Aaron hugged his mother tightly again. "Love you too."
Sandra put Aaron down and hugged Nicholas tightly. She kissed him briefly on the lips.
"I love you, Catwoman." Nicholas grinned.
"Love you too, Boy Wonder." She grinned back at him. They kissed again, briefly. Sandra got her go-bag, which was near the door. Nicholas followed her out. He hugged Sandra again. "Be safe."
Sandra looked at him. "I will. You can be sure of that."
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The plane had barely taken off when the team talked about victimology.
"All three young women have black hair and blue eyes," said JJ.
"What about age?" asked Sandra.
"They are all between the ages of fifteen and eighteen and they all went to the same school," said JJ, consulting her files.
"Lemme guess. UC High?" asked Spencer Reid.
JJ looked at him. "How do you always know these things?"
"I just do," he replied, with a joking smile.
"We'll have to look into everything- religion, grades, family, friends, the works," said Rossi.
"Well, that's a given," said Morgan.
Hotch took command. "Sandra and Rossi, go to the Andersen's." They nodded. "Morgan, go to the Ross's. Abby, go to the Walsh's. Prentiss, you and I will go to the crime scene. JJ and Reid, you'll go to the police station to establish out investigation."
"Do we have any suspects so far?" asked Sandra.
"None," said JJ.
"What about ex-boyfriends?" asked Prentiss.
"We can't rule out that possibility," said JJ. "But at the moment, there are no actual suspects."
"Well, no matter what happens, we'll catch the Unsub and bring Emily Andersen home alive," said Prentiss.
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"Emily is a good girl!" Mrs. Andersen was sobbing. "She's always been a model student!"
"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, did she act any differently than normal before she disappeared?" asked Rossi.
Just then, the phone rang.
"Let the machine get it," said Mr. Anderson with a wave of his hand.
It was a telemarketer. Conversation resumed.
"Does your family attend religious services?" asked Sandra.
Mrs. Anderson hiccupped. "E-every week."
"Where?" asked Rossi.
"At a synagogue near the mall," said a read eyed Mrs. Anderson.
Rossi wrote it down. "What classes does she take at school?"
"She's an artist and an honors student. She has all honors core classes, except for math. She's also taking PE," said Mr. Anderson readily.
"Has she had many boyfriends?" asked Sandra.
"Maybe four in the last two years," said Mr. Anderson.
"We liked them all," said Mr. Anderson, "but there was something off about Jacob."
"What did you not like about him?" asked Rossi.
"He was always…um, well…dodgy…" said Mrs. Anderson. "He always had a shifty look about him." Her eyes were still red and puffy.
"In what way?" asked Sandra.
"I can't explain it," said Mrs. Anderson. "It was a gut feeling."
Sandra nodded. Rossi wrote it down.
"His last name is Phillips," said Mrs. Anderson.
"There's something else." Mr. Anderson looked at his wife. "One of Emily's best friends, Melany." He paused.
"Yes?" Sandra prompted.
"Jacob is Melany's sister," said Mr. Anderson.
Rossi wrote that down.
"Jacob, Melany and Emily were the best of friends for years. Since eighth grade," said Mrs. Anderson. "Jacob and Emily got together after she broke up with someone."
"They were together until…" Mr. Anderson paused.
"Please, continue," said Sandra.
"He was off. I think he has a mild case of paranoid schizophrenia," said Mr. Anderson. "At least, that's what I guessed."
"How do you know what to look for?" asked Rossi.
"I'm a psychiatrist," he said. "I'd know."
Professional arrogance… thought Sandra.
Rossi stood up from where he sat. "Excuse me." His phone was ringing. "It's our unit chief." He went into the other room.
Sandra and the Andersons sat in silence until Rossi came back in. "Sandra, let's go." He gestured urgently with his hand.
"We're going to have to get going. Hank you for your time," said Sandra standing up.
Just as Rossi opened the door, Mr. Anderson said, "Wait! Mrs. Abner!"
"Yes? It's agent, by the way," Sandra replied, putting emphasis on the word.
"Please, bring Emily home safely. I'm begging you!" His eyes began to well up with emotion.
Sandra walked up to him, feeling slightly dwarfed. Her piercing blue eyes looked into Mr. Anderson's brown ones. She put her hands on his shoulders. "We'll bring Emily home alive. Our team will make it happen. I promise."
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They went back to the field office, driving with the lights on and the sirens blaring. Cars parted before them like the Red Sea. They arrived within minutes.
They rushed in.
"What happened?" Sandra was breathless.
Hotch looked at her. "Someone just came forward as the killer."
"You're kidding!" Rossi was incredulous.
Hotch shook his head. "Reid says it's a partner."
"What makes him so sure?" asked Rossi.
Reid walked in. "He just took a Polygraph. He told us that he's the partner, but that he doesn't know where the other guy takes the girls."
"Did he say anything else?" asked Sandra.
"He said that he wants to help our investigation," said Reid.
"And you believed him?" said Sandra skeptically.
"Like I said, this was all on the Polygraph," Reid replied. "Why don't you go talk to him yourself?"
"That's a great idea. Rossi, you and Sandra can go in and talk with him," said Hotch.
Sandra and Rossi nodded. Reid showed them where he was being held and they walked in. The young man who sat before them looked scared. His eyes betrayed a look of regret. He eyes Rossi first, then Sandra nervously. His entwined hands were shaking slightly. Rossi and Sandra sat down.
"What're your names?" he asked, his voice cracking.
"I'm Agent Abner and this is Agent Rossi. We were told that you wanted to help our investigation," said Sandra, in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "What's your name, son?"
"B-Brain. I-I mean, Brian," he said, stumbling over his words. He took a couple of deep breaths and swallowed. "Jacob forced me to b-be his get away driver."
"And how is it that you don't know where he takes them?" asked Rossi.
"He made me drop them off a few blocks away," said Brian shakily. "If he found out I was here…" He shuddered.
"It'll be ok, Brian," said Rossi.
"C-can I stay here?" Brian stuttered. "N-not here, in this room. A-at the station."
Rossi and Sandra exchanged a look.
"I don't know," said Sandra. "Most likely."
Silence.
"We can leave you in here for a while," said Rossi.
Brian let out a sigh. "He's gonna be so mad at me." He hugged himself tightly. "So, so mad."
"What would he do?" asked Sandra.
"Ho-horrible things…"
Deciding that it would be best not to push him in this particular area, Sandra changed the subject. "What kind of car do you use?"
"It's a van. A really big van," he said quickly and quietly. He was really shaking hard now.
"What color?"
"It's like a gr-gray blue or a gr-gray green, or something. I-it's in the p-parking lot," he said, turning whiter by the syllable. He was shaking really violently now, so much so that white foam was now forming in the corner of his mouth. He fell out of the chair in curled into a ball.
Sandra and Rossi knelt by his side immediately.
"Medic! We need a medic!" Sandra yelled.
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"Brian Winlon. He's seventeen years old," said Garcia. "He's had a history of seizures; he's been in and out of the hospital for about five years now."
"Any connections with Jacob Phillips?" asked Reid.
Silence. "Yeah. They have most of the same classes at the high school," said Garcia.
"Look into both of them more," said Hotch.
"All right. I'll let you know A-S-A-P," said Garcia.
As they waited, tension and apprehension ruled over this domain.
"Guys, I had a thought," said Sandra.
All heads turned to her. "What is it?" asked Rossi.
"If it turns out that Phillips is our Unsub, which I think is a nine out of ten chance, by the way, I want to lure him into the open."
Hotch's face contorted. "No. Absolutely not."
"Think of it, Hotch. I know martial arts and I fit the profile! I look young enough to be in high school! For crying out loud! When I go out with Nicholas, people think I'm his daughter!" She blushed. Sandra hadn't meant to say that last little bit.
"Well, it does fit," said Reid. "The Unsub likes girls with black hair and blue eyes. All the victims have also been smart." He gasped. "That would mean-"
He was cut off as Hotch's phone rang. "Garcia, you're going on speaker." He pressed a button.
"Just remember Boss Man, I charge extra for groups."
Silence.
"This Phillips guy has a few trips to Juvie under his belt already," said Garcia. "The record is sealed. But this guy is also one smart cookie. He's taking a few psychology classes. One at high school and the other at a community college."
"Unseal the record," said Hotch.
"Already done," said Garcia. "It says here that he was caught stalking someone three times. The last time he appeared before the judge, the guy was sentenced to two months in juvie."
"When was he released?" asked Reid.
"Last month."
"Well there's our stressor," said Prentiss. "He'll be devolving."
"So mine is the only plan we've got!" said Sandra exasperatedly.
Hotch recognized the truth in this. "Fine; but Sandra you'll be wearing a wire at all times." Hotch's eyes shone with worry. "What's your plan?"
She rushed through it.
Hotch nodded. "It's a good plan." He took charge at once. "Prentiss and Morgan!" They turned. "Go with Sandra and get her ready for this!"
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"Do I have to wear the skirt?"
"Hey, this was your idea, Sandra. But yeah, it's too short. How 'bout these?" Prentiss held up a pair of jeans.
Sandra saw the pants and grabbed them out of Prentiss's hand. She went back and put them on. When she came out, Sandra looked just like a teenager.
Morgan put his hand on her shoulder. "You'll do."
"We'll still need to get a couple more shirts," said Sandra, pointing to the store. "Let's get two more."
And so it was that Sandra got her disguises; but the illusion wasn't complete. They went and got her some basic school supplies and even a backpack. Now she could go. It would begin the next day.
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Sandra, Prentiss and Morgan filled Hotch in. The strain was evident- he didn't want Sandra to do this, but he recognized that it might be their only chance to catch Jacob Phillips.
The next morning, Hotch (dressed in his suit) and Sandra (in her disguise) went down to the school. The secretary, Norma, noticed them right away.
Hotch walked right up to her desk. "Is the principal available?"
"Principal Monroe doesn't usually handle new students, sir," said Norma.
"This is different, Ma'am," said Sandra.
Norma glanced at the two of them. "I don't see how."
Hotch pulled out his badge and showed her. "That's how."
She eyed it nervously as he put it away. "What's the FBI doing here?"
"We need to speak with Principal Monroe, please. Ma'am, this is important," said Sandra.
She pressed a button on her desk. "Principal Monroe, you have to take this meeting. They'll explain."
"How is it so important?" came the deep voice of the principal.
"They'll explain," Norma repeated.
"Send them in."
She stood up and ushered them to his office. They were greeted by the tall principal. He had a weary eye. "What's this about?"
"The whole administration needs to know about this," said Hotch. "The vice principals and counselors too."
Principal Monroe narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"This will have to suffice for now." Hotch showed him his badge.
His eyes widened. "I'll call them in." He stood up. "Please, excuse me for a moment." He left the office. The door closed.
Hotch turned to Sandra. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? Once we fill them in, there's no turning back."
She turned to him, amazed. "Haven't I made that abundantly clear, sir?"
"You have," said Hotch with a sigh. He paused, gazing at her flower pin that had a tiny but sensitive microphone embedded in it. It was the kind that Garcia might wear. They sat in silence for a moment. The door opened and eight tired looking individuals entered the office behind Principal Monroe. This vice principals were introduced as Mrs. Steele, Mr. Olsen and Ms. Pace. The counselors were Mr. Ruben, Ms. Stein, Mr. Dyke, Mr. Greybar and Mr. Lasker.
"I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner, unit chief of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit."
"And I'm SSA Sandra Shea Abner."
"What's this all about, Will?" asked Mr. Greybar, the head counselor.
"I don't know," replied Principal Monroe. "I can't think…" Comprehension dawned. "The bodies."
Hotch nodded. "Our investigation."
"Our plan is to have me infiltrate the school as a student," said Sandra.
Everyone looked confused. "How would that help at all?"
"Because we believe that our Unsub, our number one suspect, is a student," said Hotch, "who likes girls with blue eyes and black hair who are smart." Hotch was going to continue but his phone rang. "Excuse me." He picked it up. "Make it quick, Prentiss." He listened and hung up. "Sandra, I trust you can fill them in. The Unsub left a note." Hotch left.
The administration turned their expectant gazes to Sandra. This was her first time dealing with anything like this, but it wasn't much different than talking to the police department. "Because so much of it is classified, I'll have to give you only minor details."
They nodded.
"So essentially, our suspect is a student here. We need to lure him into the open and to do that, I'm pretty much going to be bait for him," said Sandra. "Emily Anderson is in his hands and we need to get her out alive."
"So you're going to force his hand?" asked Principal Monroe.
"That about sums it up," said Sandra. "How many classes a day take place?"
"Six," said Mr. Greybar.
"You're sure this will do it?" asked Ms. Stein.
"We're sure of it," said Sandra.
"It's really happening?" asked Mr. Lasker.
Sandra nodded.
"Well, I can't pretend that I like what's going on, but it's our only plan." Principal Monroe adjusted his tie. "The district was talking about closing the school. They said that if the killer wasn't caught, they'd do it."
"It'd be too coincidental if I was in all six of the same classes," said Sandra. "Four would be best, I think."
"Classes start at 8am." The clock read 7:39am. "We should get this all sorted out right now," said Mr. Olsen.
"And we'll need to fill in the teachers," said Sandra.
Everyone nodded.
A few minutes later, Sandra's new schedule was sorted out and they called her six teachers to the office. The administration was dismissed and the teachers filed in. Principal Monroe nodded to each of them.
"Mr. Murphey, Pre-Calculus." A tall, meek and balding older man.
"Ms. Hyde, Advanced Biology." A severe looking shorter woman.
"Mrs. Boot, Expository Reading and Writing." A woman with a soft expression.
"Ms. Lynn, AP Psychology." A plump woman with curly hair.
"Mr. Turpin, AP Government and Economics." An older, bigger bald man.
"Mrs. Bell, French." A short tanned woman with stringy hair.
Sandra told them the entire plan (again) and all of the teachers gasped. No one could say much; that is of course, until Mrs. Bell spoke. "You can handle all of these classes?"
Sandra nodded. "Et votre classe aussi. Je parle francais." For those who didn't speak French, Sandra translated- "And your class too. I speak French fluently."
She assured the rest of the teachers that she could do it- in their classes, anyway. At last, they were reassured.
The clock now read 7:53am.
"Here's a map." Principal Monroe tried to hand her one, but Sandra denied it.
"No thank you sir." Sandra smiled. "I'm pretty good at finding my own way around."
He smiled back. "So how long do you think you'll be here?"
"It's Monday, so no later than Friday."
"Sounds good." The bell rang. "You'd better get to class."
All seven of them nodded.
"Sandra!"
She turned. It was Mr. Murphey.
"Walk to class with me," he said.
She nodded. "Lets go."
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The lesson was a blur, as were the next two classes. As the day wore on, Sandra found her way easily. Not until the fourth class of the day, AP Psychology, did luck smile upon Sandra. It was in the second class they shared. She sat down next to Jacob and he stared.
No way, thought Jacob.
Sandra glanced at him and smiled. "Hi."
Oh, my Lord…"Hi." He smiled. "What's your name?"
Sandra made a split second decision. "Sandra Collins. What's yours?"
"Jacob Phillips." He looked at her binder. "That's your schedule?"
Sandra nodded.
"Can I see it?"
Sandra pulled it out and handed it to him.
"We have the next two classes together."
Sandra smiled broadly. "Really? Well then, I guess you can show me the way."
This is awesome! My next girlfriend. "So, wanna sit with me at lunch?" He grinned.
"Sounds good."
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Back at the police station, Reid and Prentiss were listening to the recordings.
"Good. She's got him hooked," said Prentiss with a slight grimace.
Reid merely nodded. "This is getting boring. It's just high school."
Prentiss had been about to reply when they heard something of interest. "Shh! Listen!"
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"So I'll see you tomorrow?" It was after school, and for that, Sandra was glad. In order to do this correctly, she needed to do the homework. Maybe I'll have Reid help me. Actually, I will.
He laughed. "Of course you will!" He smiled at her. "I'll meet you outside the nurse's office before school."
"See you there." She yawned, closing her eyes as she did.
"You know what?"
"Hmm?"
"You're cute."
She blushed. "See you tomorrow."
"See ya." He walked away. He ran back to her and gave her a card. It had his number on it. "See you tomorrow."
Sandra turned and walked away. There was Rossi, waiting for her like she had asked. She reached him and gagged. "This is torture!" She grimaced. "He's a narcissist! He thinks he's all that!"
"Then you'll just have to get this done quickly." He said it without much sympathy. He eyed the books in her hands. "You're really getting into this, aren't you?" It wasn't a question.
"If it's worth doing, it's worth over-doing," she said with a smirk.
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"So what did the note say?" asked Sandra.
Without a word, Hotch led her to where they had placed it. It simply read:
Good luck finding her.
"When did it get here?" asked Sandra.
"About 7:15 this morning," said JJ.
"He knows we're here." Sandra crossed her arms.
"But he doesn't know who you are," said Reid. "If he did, he wouldn't have bought into your disguise so well."
"Well, we've been here for two days already. If his pattern continues, she's got until Friday- three days," said Hotch.
"But if he's devolving, she could only have one day," said Prentiss. Her eyes widened in realization. She pulled out her cell phone and called Garcia. "I need to know if the Phillips house has a basement or an attic."
After a moment, she thanked Garcia and hung up. "The Phillips house has an attic."
"That could be where he hides the girls!" said Sandra. "We need to get to Brian Winlon!"
"Why Winlon?" asked Reid.
"He knows more about Phillips than I do from today!" said Sandra.
"There's no time!" Hotch pulled out his phone, called Garcia and put it on speaker.
"You've reached my lair of unfettered knowledge," came the voice.
"Garcia, we need the Phillips address," said Hotch.
She gave it him. "You think you have the guy?"
"We hope so. See you back in Quantico." He turned to Sandra. "Call him and see if you can come over."
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They were at the door to the Phillips house; she said that she wanted to because her protective older bother wanted to meet him. Hotch went with her. He wore his suit. If pressed, he was to be the older brother who worked at a law firm.
Sandra rung the bell and it was answered pretty quickly. "Hi Sandra. This must be your older brother." He held out his hand and Hotch shook it. "Come in."
"Jacob, can I use your bathroom?" asked Sandra.
"Sure, it's upstairs," Jacob gestured towards the staircase.
Sandra handed her purse to Hotch. "You don't mind holding it, do you?"
"Not really." Hotch shook his head.
Jacob turned to Hotch. "Would you like to go in the living room?"
Hotch nodded curtly, remaining silent. They sat down across from each other, sitting in plump chairs.
Meanwhile, Sandra climbed Sandra climbed to the top of the stairs. She got to the top. The bathroom door was right across from her. To the right, the master bedroom. To the left, the office and the twins' bedroom. All of the doors were open. No hint of an attic. She looked up. A trap door! But there was no pull string.
"Gotcha," murmured Sandra. She looked around for something, anything that could open it. She opened a cabinet. There was a stool inside. She pulled it out, and stood on it, directly below the handle. Not for the first time, Sandra cursed her small frame. Struck by a sudden idea, Sandra called Rossi. "Get over here; I need you."
"You mean Hotch wasn't enough?"
"I'll explain later," Sandra pleaded. "Please, just get over here and distract Phillips!"
"Can't reach the handle to the attic?"
"Will you please just get over here?"
"Even with a stool?"
"Seriously. Get over here."
"All right," said Rossi. Still wondering why the plan wasn't working. "I'll call when I'm almost there."
"Thanks, Rossi. I'll explain later."
"I'll hold you to it." He hung up.
Next, Sandra called Hotch. She heard him say, "It's the office." And walk over to the backyard, closing the door behind him. "Yeah?"
"The attic has no pull string. I couldn't get to it, even on a stool."
"I don't think that's all, Sandra. I know you."
"It's not all, sir. I got off the phone with Rossi. He's going to be here in a few minutes to distract Phillips while you and I get into the attic," said Sandra. "Hang on." She looked at her phone and pressed a button. "You're here, Rossi? I'll tell Hotch." She pressed another button. "You still there?"
"Yeah," said Hotch. "Is Rossi here?"
"Uh-huh," said Sandra.
"I'm coming up."
They hung up and Sandra flushed the toilet, fooling Phillips; or trying to anyway.
She waited as Hotch came upstairs. He stood on the stool that had thwarted Sandra and reached for the handle. He reached for it and tripped. He started to fall. Sandra ran in front of him and held him up. Hotch got a hold on the handle. He pulled. There was a folding ladder. Hotch unfolded it and climbed up. Sandra was right behind him.
They reached the top. Hotch went to the right, Sandra to the left.
In his own brand of sign language, Hotch said, "I'll look this way."
Sandra nodded. In the same signs, she said, "Then I'll go the other way."
Hotch nodded. Still in the signs, "Clap three times if you find anything."
Sandra nodded.
Hotch turned on the light and closed the trap door.
The attic was big. And confusing. And daunting. Sandra wove through various items, boxes, whatever the Phillips family hid up here. Eventually, Sandra came upon the wall. As soon as she did, Sandra heard three claps.
Moving as quickly and quietly as she could, Sandra made her way to the other end of the attic. Hotch was kneeling beside a bed. On it, Emily Anderson slept. Sandra gently shook her awake. She jumped. "W-who are you?" Her face was bruised and bloody. Her eyes were swollen.
"We're Agents Abner and Hotchner with the FBI. We're here to get you out of here," said Sandra.
"Can you walk?" asked Hotch.
"N-no," said Emily. "He broke my ankles." Even as she said it, Sandra's and Hotch's eyes drifted down to them. They were black from all the bruises.
Hotch handed Sandra his glock 17 pistol. "You'll go first." He picked Emily up, princess style, and followed Sandra to the door.
Sandra tried to open it quietly, but no such luck. It opened with a crash. Hotch cursed. Sandra scrambled down the ladder and Hotch followed backwards. He almost fell, but he didn't, managing to steady himself; he got to the floor quickly. Emily Anderson was quivering.
Phillips suddenly appeared on the landing below. He saw the ladder, Hotch carrying Emily and Sandra holding the weapon. His face contorted with rage. He charged, running up the stairs. Sandra raised the glock, pointing it at him. He stopped at once.
"Back away. Now," growled Sandra fiercely. She reached for her cuffs, usually in her back pocket, but they weren't there. "Rossi!" called Sandra. He came quickly.
"Arrest this guy," said Hotch. Rossi nodded. He cuffed Phillips, and led him away, keeping a tight grip on his arm.
Hotch carried Emily to the ambulance while Sandra called the Anderson family.
Brian Winlon was arrested along with Jacob Phillips. Winlon didn't get as much time as Phillips, only a year, and Emily Anderson recovered.
They got back on the plane to Quantico. Sandra's last thought before she fell asleep was that she wanted to hug Aaron and Nicholas.
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"The test of the morality of a society is what it does for its children." –Dietrich Bonhoeffer
