Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was always at his desk early. It was just easier if he came straight in after dropping Jack at school. He could have gone home or stopped off for coffee, but he enjoyed the feeling of being in control that he got from being the first one in the office.
This morning he was reading and signing routine paperwork when his desk phone rang. Answering it, he noticed that the call was coming in on his direct line and that the caller ID showed a blocked number. Curious - Not many people had this number.
"Agent Hotchner," His routine phone greeting.
"Agent Hotchner, I don't know if you remember me, my name is Arthur Maxwell. We met when you were a prosecutor." The man's voice sounded confident.
"I certainly do remember you, Mr. Maxwell. I attempted to put you away for racketeering, money laundering, and prostitution. Unfortunately, I didn't succeed." Hotchner remembered the case well, one of his few losses in the courtroom. It still rankled him.
"I see I made an impression," Mr. Maxwell seemed relieved. "I am hoping you can let bygones be bygones. I have a series of real crimes which have been committed and I need your help. And your discretion," he added.
"The FBI generally doesn't get involved in any investigation unless invited in by the local authorities. Have we heard from them?" Hotch thought he needed to make that point clear from the beginning.
Mr. Maxwell seemed unfazed, "Actually, No, but this situation crosses several state lines and I believe under those circumstances these crimes do fall under your jurisdiction."
Hotch thought for a minute. It must be something serious for a man like Arthur Maxwell to be calling him. His type generally went out of their way to avoid all law enforcement officials.
Hotchner replied carefully, "I'm listening." He hoped he wouldn't regret it.
