We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today. - Stacia Tauscher
The car ride is bumpy. Crunchy. The sun is going to sleep. Maybe so are they. Maybe they are going to a very special place. Maybe it's a surprise. Maybe asking nice will help.
"Is it secret?" Standing on the seat. The car's still moving. Pulled down. Scared faces.
"Talk again, and watch what happens!"
A big breath in. A hand stopping the words. A head shaking no. Scared eyes. Quiet.
Stop.
Hands reaching. Hands pulling back like a fight. But big hands always win. There is a knife. There is red. The car door opens. Little hands push. Little voice screams.
"Run!"
The ground is sharp. It bites. It hurts. Can't run. No hiding place. Just open.
Big arms grab. Now it's time. Not a surprise. Fight. Push.
The knife comes anyway.
Go to sleep, just like the sun.
The call comes at 3:20 AM. Hotch knows it's not good. Nothing good comes to him at 3:20 in the morning.
"Hotch. We've got a case. It's bad."
It's JJ. It's 3:20 in the morning. Of course it's bad.
Within twenty minutes, they have all gathered in the conference room, ready to work, but undeniably exhausted. When the first image comes up on the screen, however, they all snap to attention.
"I just got a call from a detective in Houston, Texas. Eight hours ago, six people were murdered and a seventh badly injured. 68-year-old Maxine Keller, 47-year-old Nina Ellis, 25-year-old Taryn Michaels, eight-year-old Alisha Michaels and six-year-old Kendra Michaels, and 21-year-old Janice McAffrey. All brutally stabbed in the face and chest. The crime scene photos indicate the younger girls were sexually abused. Benjamin Jackson, 23, the final victim, was badly injured, gunshot blast to the chest. He's currently in surgery, but was able to identify his attacker."
"Wait. If the unsub's already identified, then why call us?" Reid asks, sitting forward.
"Jackson identified a coworker, 26-year-old, Michael McAffrey. " JJ continues seriously. "All the previous victims were related to our unsub. In-laws, nieces, wife… They all lived in the same neighborhood within miles of each other. According to Jackson and evidence found on scene at the McAffrey house, they have children."
Hotch lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding. Now, the screen in front of them shows four young faces. All were beautiful, sitting close together, with light brown skin and warm dark eyes. He can also see signs of abuse. Not obvious, but they are there. The smile on the oldest boy looks frozen, and fearful. The older girl looks caught off-guard, the younger boy is possibly the saddest child Hotch has ever seen. Only the youngest girl looks unaffected by whatever chaos is going on in the home. She is laughing.
"Five-year-old Elijah, four-year-old Zahara, three-year-old Josiah and two-year-old Amira are currently listed as missing with the Houston PD. There's an Amber Alert out for all of them but so far, nothing."
"It's been eight hours…" Emily offers skeptical and sad. "They could be dead."
Rossi leans forward. "Garcia? What do we know about this Michael McAffrey?"
There is the click of computer keys and then a tense and serious voice. "He has a wrap sheet as long as my arm. A history of drunk-and-disorderly conduct, drugs…"
"Domestic abuse?" Morgan interjects.
"Nothing official," Garcia shakes her head. "Looks like they caught him trying to cross the border into Mexico."
"Yeah," JJ nods. "He's in custody of the police department. They found him bloody and covered with superficial wounds. He insists it was a drug deal gone bad and that the dealer took his kids as collateral. He says he has no idea where they are."
"What about the other murders?" Hotch asks.
"He maintains he knows nothing about them. Blames the same people he says took his children…" JJ says wearily.
"Those wounds don't fit that M.O." Emily points out. "The kills are angry, rage-filled, and most important? They're personal. You don't target only women and girls in family and stab and slash them multiple times when one good cut would take care of them, especially the little girls…"
"He's probably high out of his mind…" Derek observes.
"The blood wasn't his," JJ says and crosses her arms as if to ward off a chill. If those kids are alive, they don't have long at all.
"Wheels up in 30," Hotch says, already trying to focus his attention on this case, and not his own five-year-old, at home, waiting for him.
"It doesn't make sense," Reid muses on the flight to Houston. "Taking four kids under the age of six as collateral for drug money…"
"The blood on Michael McAffrey makes it sound like we're going to be recovering bodies, not kids," Emily repeats, stifling a yawn.
"We operate under the assumption that they're alive until we have a concrete reason to think otherwise. Garcia's running background on the family, trying to see if we can find something to use as leverage against McAffrey. I'll deal with the interrogation. JJ, talk to remaining family, see what you can find out. Dave and Prentiss, go to the Michaels residence. See what you can piece together there. Morgan and Reid, the McAffrey house."
The grass is poking. The flies are buzzing.
There is too much wet.
Go and see. Go and touch. Go and say wake up.
Next, there is too much still. Too much cold.
Crawl far away. Fall asleep again in the dark.
Hotch takes a deep breath before he walks into the interrogation room. He's going to need to be steady for this one, and right now, he does not feel steady. Right now he feels off-balance. Horrified. Angry.
He is convinced, looking through the window at the self-important smirk on McAffrey's face that Hotch is not dealing with a grieving father who lost his family, but a family annihilator who did all of this…and thinks he can get away with it.
Slowly, the images of the four missing kids filled Hotch's mind. Elijah with his gap-toothed smile. Zahara with her startled expression. Josiah and his big brown eyes and constant pout. And Amira, with her wild curls, who looked to be in the middle of laughing at a great joke.
Hotch vows to find them all. He vows to bring them home.
