'I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey.'

The Criminologist

Chapter 1

The rain pounded on the roof of the SUV sliding down the windscreen in sheets as the wipers vainly did battle, giving Morgan the briefest glimpses of the road before his vision was obscured again.

"I still think we should stop and wait it out."

Morgan set his jaw determinedly and tried to keep his eyes on the road.

"Reid, we've been through this."

Garcia shot Reid a warning glance from the passenger seat into the back where he sat with his arms folded.

He seemed impervious to Garcia's not so subtle message and continued, "I'm just saying that it would be much safer if we..."

"Look!" Garcia interrupted before Morgan could, "check out those motorcycles."

Through the curtain of water Reid and Garcia watched as person after person sped past the car.

"I would not want to be them in this weather," Morgan commented humourlessly as he leaned closer to the glass, straining his eyes through the rain.

"Actually I don't think I would want to be them at all," Reid interjected from the back seat. "Did you know that the death rate for motorcyclists involved in an accident..."

A loud bang cut off Reid's monologue as the car lurched and Garcia yelped. Morgan gripped the wheel tightly, fighting for control as a second later another loud bang shook the car. His hands were trembling slightly as he managed to bring it to a controlled stop and glanced at the other passengers.

"Everyone all right?"

Reid nodded white faced from the back and Garcia said nothing, merely opening her tightly shut eyes and turning them to Morgan.

"I think..." Reid swallowed around his harsh breathing, trying to get it under control, "I think we just blew a tyre."

"Or two," Morgan muttered, leaning his head back against the seat, "and we don't have two spares."

"Just wait till you hear the worse news," Garcia whispered, checking her cell phone, "there is no signal."

"Great," Morgan muttered, "looks like you got your wish Reid."

"Guys, I think there was some kind of a house back there," Reid was peering though the back windscreen, completely oblivious to Morgan's comment, "maybe we could ask them if they have a land-line?"

Garcia's eyes widened, "You mean that spooky looking place?"

Reid tossed her a look over his shoulder and Garcia threw her hands in the air in mock surrender. "Hey, it might not look creepy to you but you go into those type of places as your day job. I just call them as I see them. Creepy."

Morgan sighed and reached for his gun, buckling it to his waist. "Well there's no point staying here."

Garcia jabbed her finger at the rain, "I'm not going out in that. Do you know how long it takes to create the vision of perfection you see before you?"

Morgan grinned at her and reached for the car door.

"C'mon Baby Girl."

He opened up and stepped into the torrential downpour, Reid following seconds later, slinging his satchel over his shoulder. With a sigh Garcia stepped out after them.

The rain hit her like a cold shock and she gasped as it quickly soaked through her clothes. Glaring out into the darkness she mentally cursed the weather and slammed the SUV door shut behind her. Reid and Morgan were staring curiously at the double blown tires, frowns marring their foreheads.

"What is the probability of a double flat?" Morgan asked rhetorically, kicking at the traitorous second tyre.

"I could give you the actual statistic but I don't think that's what you want to hear. It's not very high." Reid found himself having to shout the reply over the roar of water. Garcia joined them, already dripping.

"It's kind of suspicious actually," Reid added.

Morgan made a mental note to be more alert as he gestured Reid and Garcia to walk ahead of him and they set off back down the road.

The rusted gates of the mansion creaked eerily, in the kind of clichéd way that made Garcia grimace.

"Rusted gates, strange noises, a storm, a spooky mansion," she muttered under her breath, "this has all the marks of an old B-movie."

Morgan's lips twitched in what may have been a smile but the rain was beginning to obscure vision in the form of matted eyelashes.

It was with great relief that they took shelter under the front porch. Whilst Garcia pulled a face at her drenched clothing and Reid ran a hand distractedly through his hair, shaking out the water, Morgan reached for the doorbell and rang it.

"What if they don't let us in?" Garcia commented anxiously, feeling a chill enter under her skin; the type that only a hot shower, warm, dry clothes, and a steaming mug of tea could banish.

"Pretend to be pregnant," Reid responded instantly, ploughing onward despite Morgan's warning glance. "Although there is no law that states you must allow pregnant women access to a toilet, discretion is often applied in these situations, and most people..."

"Reid..."

"No, no, no," he attempted to reassure, "It's a compliment, honestly..."

Garcia cut across him. "Reid, I love you, but if you ever imply that I could pass for being pregnant again I will systematically erase your online existence."

Reid frowned slightly in puzzlement, "I wasn't aware that I had one..."

Morgan tried to turn his laugh into a cough and was saved from Garcia's wrath as she turned dagger like eyes onto him by the huge old door creaking open.

Standing in the gap was a gaunt faced figure, hunched over with white blonde hair hanging in thin strands. Garcia was eerily reminded of the henchman Igor in all those horror films. He looked from one to the other warily, eyes sharp and assessing.

"Yes?" he drew out nasally.

Morgan took charge. "Sir, our car has unfortunately blown two tyres and we are unable to get phone signal," he waved his cell back and forth as though to emphasis the point. "Would it be possible to use the house phone?"

Again they were subjected to a scrutinising gaze. Morgan sighed and prepared to reach for his badge. He didn't really want to play the FBI card as it often made people more nervous than helpful but Hotch was expecting them somewhere entirely elsewhere and he needed to check in.

"You're wet." The strange figure pronounced unnecessarily.

"Yes," Reid cast a look at Garcia and back to the man, "it's raining."

Again he looked them all over, gaze lingering for a long time on each one before opening the door wider.

"You had better come in."

Morgan tilted his head in thanks, voicing the same sentiment as he stepped over the threshold. Reid came quickly after, and, with some slight hesitation, Garcia followed. The door shut behind her with a bang that made her jump.

"Was it just me," she muttered under her breath, "or did that sound eerily final?"