A/N: I don't own any of the Criminal Minds characters and I am not making any money from writing this.

Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.

This story is a sequel to my story "Past Sins", that is a sequel to my story "Fall". I recommend reading those two first in order for this one to make sense. It is a case!fic: many focus on the case and some friendship and character dynamic throughout the story. No actual shipping, only Derek/Savannah and maybe Spencer/Dorian as a subplot. There is little to no Aaron Hotchner in this story. Just the story purpose.

This story takes place in season eleven, sort of like the third episode of the season, so I titled it " Till Death Do Us Part", which is supposed to be the title to an actual (yet to aire) third episode of season eleven.

Cast

Casper van Dien as captain Leonard Key

Oliver Hudson as Kyle Lake

Sean Dugan as Chuck Walsh

Tiffany Hines as Jenny Smith

The night was windy a cold. The moon was barely visible due to the thick grey clouds. The shadovy figure was breathing heavily, looking down at two dead bodies lyong on the bed in the nicely decorated master's bedroom. The petite looking brunette and a little taller blonde were staring up with the lifeless eyes, their hands still held together tightly. The intruder covered them up and rushed outside, only stopping to look at the empty crib near by.

#

It was a warm October morning and the sun was shining unsually bright. Savannah smiled assuringly at the blonde haired teenage girl who was lying on the table in her ordination, wearing a blue T-shirt and grey shorts with grada stains on them. She sat on the chair next to her and the girl fondled her hands together.

"OK", she said, taking another look at the documents in her hand. "You don't have a concussion. Just take a lot of rest and don't go to school for a day or two."

The girl smiled and climbed off the table, her legs still a bit shaky. "Great", she whispered. Then she turned to face Savannah. "How long will I have to take a break from the games?"

"For a week or two", Savannah explained sympathetically.

The girl nodded her head, a bit disappointed and acceptant, and then started leaving.

Savannah watched her walk away for a few seconds, contemplating something, before calling out: "Rita!"

The girl, whose name really was Rita, stopped in her tracks and turned to face Savannah, a slight look of anxiety on her face. "I... I noticed that you have a lot of bruises."

Rita shifted in place, feeling herself shiver. "I told you. I play soccer."

"This is the third time you've visited me in two months. With serious injuries. And I can rarely reach your parents."

Rita gulped, her cheeks blushing. "It's a tough game", she whispered before turning around and walking away, closing the door behind.

She was about to head for the exit when she felt Savannah's hand gripping her shoulder.

She spun around and Savannah handed her her card.

"Call me of you need anything and if you have any problems, OK?"

Rita said nothing. She just took the card and ran outside.

#

Sometime latwr that morning, at the BAU headquarters, Derek was walking down the hallway swiftly, almost getting late on a meeting. He was talking to Savannah over his phone, both trying to help her and to end the conversation as soon as possible.

"I don't know what to tell you, Savannah. There doesn't seem to be any clear indication of an abuse."

On the other end of the line, Savannah sighed, standing up from the cafeteria table. "I don't know, Derek. Something is off. I feel it."

"Contact the local police", Derek advised her, brushing by Rachel Dawson. "Or social services."

Savannah groaned. "I had cases like that. They don't do anything Unless something really serious happens!"

"Well, there isn't the much I can do either", Derek protested.

"Just do a research on her and her family", Savannah pleaded. "Maybe send somebody to talk to her. Please. I have a bad feeling about this."

"OK", Derek agreed half heartedly as he approached the glass door.

"See you later", Savannah replied before ending the call.

Derek shoved the phone down his pocket and walked into the conference room, closing the door behind. All the other team members were already there, just beginning to read the files that Spencer had given them. Derek took his file as Garcia stood up and walked over to the movie screen on a near by wall. She took a deep breath before starting. "Yesterday evening, an anonymous tip led to a discovery of two dead bodies in Philadelphia suburb." She clicked at the remote. Photographs of the two smiling young Caucasian women appeared on the screen. "Meet Trudy Morrison and her wife, Wendy. Found dead in their home, in the master's bedroom, on the bed, laying face up next to each other, both shot to death: once in the forehead and once in the right fist from a close range with a .22 caliber revolver. No match in IBIS." A few crime scene photographs appeared on the screen.

"Very specific ritual", David noted, rising his eyebrows.

"Signs of a forced entry through the back door, the perpetrator probably used a crowbar", Derek read. "The alarm was turned off, probably because both spouses were at home."

JJ was studying the preliminary autopsy findings. "No apparent signs of other violence, torture or a sexual assault, nothing under their fingernails, no valuables stolen."

Spencer frowned. "The report says that they had adopted a baby girl six months ago."

Penelope cringed. "Yes. A girl named Heather, now fourteen months old." She took a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions. "She is missing. A ransom note was found on the bedside table."

She clicked at the remote, making another crime scene photograph appear on the screen. The ransom note was written on a wrinkled piece of paper in a red ink. It read: "FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS IN CASH OR HEATHER'S DEAD. NO COPS!"

Spencer frowned, reading the note one more time. "No specific location or a deadline stated. Pretty messy handwriting. It is almost like whoever did that had barely thought about the ransom angle."

"It could be a forensic countermeasure", JJ suggested. "Setting police of the track, concealing an actual motive."

David sighed, feeling his insides twist. "Which probably means that the abduction is sexually motivated."

"Both bodies were covered, suggesting remorse", Spencer noted. "Maybe those were the undub's first kills or he knew the victims."

Derek sighed. "Or both."

"The anonymous tip was issued from a phone booth a mile away from the murder scene", Penelope explained before clicking at the remote. An audio file appeared at the screen. She clicked at the "Play" button. The slightly muffled sounds soon filled the room.

911 Dispatcher: 911 call, what is your emergency.

A silent voice of a young woman was barely audible.

"Please come..."

"What's wrong, ms?" Even the dispatcher sounded confused.

"Come to the Apple Street 28, they are dead."

"Who is dead, ms?"

"Trudy and Wendy!", the girl cried. The call then ended.

Penelope turned back towards her colleagues, an audio file still visible but not playing. "According to the preliminary voice analysis, person who made that call is an African American woman in her early to mid twenties who likely grew up in the area."

David sighed. "Well, that is helpful", he commented ironically.

"But she was fast. According to the autopsy report, the victims had been dead for an hour or two maximum by the time the police arrived."

"So, maybe she is a witness?", JJ suggested.

"Whatever is the case, the first twenty four hours are crucial", Spencer reminded them before he stood up. "We're leaving in twenty minutes."

#

The unsub walked over to the stroller in the dark corner of his bedroom, breathing heavily. Little Heather was lying face up inside the stroller, was just staring around with her big warm eyes, her face expresionless. The unsub ran his fingers down the baby's chest gently, looking her in the eyes solemnly, then ran his fingers up and undid the first button on Heather's pajama top, sighing as he did.

~OPENING ROLES AND CREDITS~