"Evil is unspectacular and always human. And shares our bed and eats at our own table."
-W.H. Auden
Five cards were spread before her, all adorned with lovely red diamonds.
Elizabeth Prentiss admired them as though they were a prized gilt that had just won the blue ribbon at the county fair. She announced, "Flush." With a pert smile and tapped a manicured fingernail against the bottom corner of each card. "Let's see it, Tex."
On the other side of the table, Molly blinked slowly before lifting her eyes to glare at the Ambassador. She knew where she stood now, so she took her dear sweet time in revealing her hand. It irritated Elizabeth when one did not act with the utmost velocity. Stretching, the redhead let out a dramatic groan and leaned back in her chair. She pretended to take interest in the hummingbirds flitting about the garden just outside of the solarium window.
"My, my, my. The hyacinths seem to be in bloom rather early this year." She said with a fake southern drawl. "Aren't they pretty?"
"Those are hydrangeas." Elizabeth didn't even need to look away from her opponent to know that she was wrong. "Now, stop stalling."
Feigning innocence, Molly placed a hand to her chest. "Why would I want to stall? What when I have this gorgeous..." She set down her cards with a flourish, "royal family to present." An Ace, King, Queen, Jack, and Ten of clubs were placed in order on her side of the table.
Wrinkling her nose, Ambassador Prentiss slapped her own cards away so that they scattered across the surface. This was the ninth time in a row that the younger woman beat her.
"Alright, one more hand." She moved to stack and shuffle the deck but stopped when the chair across from her was scooted back and its occupant stood up. "Where are you going?"
"Well, if you expect me to annihilate you for another hour, I'm going to need snacks." Molly said over her shoulder as she waltzed towards the kitchen.
Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth rose as well. "You're not supposed to be walking without your cane!" She grabbed the wooden walking stick that Caleb-the carpenter that lived two houses down from them-had made just for the injured girl. "You'll only do further damage to your leg, and it's not like you have many more to spare!" She shouted the last part down the hall, as she wasn't really in the mood to chase her through the house.
"Really mother?" A voice from the foyer startled her.
The Ambassador jumped and spun around to face her daughter, who was standing with her arms crossed and smirking at her.
"Taunting the handicapped?" Emily tsked and shook her head. "So unbecoming."
Scoffing, Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips. "She started it." She replied, not caring that she sounded all of five years old. "Besides, Molly Prentiss is no more handicapped than you nor I."
She knew her daughter was only teasing-because that was just Emily's way-but instead of reprimanding her for it as she had done so in the past, she simply played along. It had been something she had made a point of doing for the past few months. With Molly convalescing in her home, she got to see Emily more than usual with her weekly visits to see how the younger woman was coping.
Elizabeth hoped that maybe-just maybe-if she made it a comfortable space, she would receive more visits even after Molly fully recovered.
Conceding with a tiny nod Emily chuckled. "Very true." She grinned and accepted the hug her mother approached with. "How are you two holding up?"
"Fine, fine." Elizabeth waved her hand flamboyantly. "We went to the farmer's market this morning and I showed Molly how to pick out the perfect apples and strawberries."
"A vital skill." Emily murmured as they made their way back towards the solarium.
Ignoring the quip, her mother continued. "And when we got home, I taught her how to play poker."
"Taught her?" Prentiss plopped down on the overstuffed chair by the wall of windows and cocked her head. "Why would you need to teach her? Molly knows how to-"
She trailed off when she saw the redhead in question entering the room. With wide eyes, she was motioning behind Elizabeth's back, imploring Emily to stop talking. But it was too late. The Ambassador not only picked up on what her daughter was saying, but she also caught sight of Molly flapping her arms in her peripheral.
"Young lady!" She put on her best tone of reproach. "Were you swindling me?"
Unable to stop herself, Molly snorted. "Swindling?" She parroted in almost the exact same voice. "No ma'am, I don't believe I was."
"Well, you told me you didn't know how to play!"
"No I didn't! You just assumed that I didn't know how and I never corrected you on it." Molly argued, sitting in the chair next to Emily and grabbing her hand in lieu of a hug. "You were so damn happy showing me how to squeeze apples and smell strawberries all morning; I didn't want to ruin that."
Slightly embarrassed, the Ambassador crossed her arms and turned to glare out the window. It was her way of pouting, but of course her daughters were unfazed.
"What are you doing here?" Molly asked as she repositioned herself to face Emily. "Are you taking the day off?"
Normally, Emily visited on Saturdays or Sundays-providing that she wasn't on a case. It was a rare occurrence to see her in the middle of the day on a Tuesday.
"They got a new Red Panda at the National Zoo." The agent answered motioning in the general direction of DC. "I was thinking you might want to..."
As expected, the sentence had barely left her mouth before Molly was up and hurrying towards the staircase. She called out something about grabbing her coat over her shoulder, but it was muffled by the thick walls she had already disappeared behind.
Elizabeth shook her head and rolled her eyes at the young woman's brazen show of wanting to get out of the house. She didn't know why it surprised her anymore. Every time Emily appeared, Molly was halfway out the door without so much as a goodbye.
"Make sure she rests her leg." She told her daughter who was still chuckling at the redhead's enthusiasm. "She was walking on it all morning at the market after she conveniently left this in the car." She handed the cane to Emily and crossed her arms. "Honestly, the girl is going to end up in the operating room again by Christmas if she keeps this nonsense up."
With a tight smile, Emily bobbed her head up and down as she bit back a comment about her mother's ever present nitpicking. She hated not being given the option to approve her ward's actions. Despite the fact that Molly was a grown adult, the Ambassador wished to treat her like the terrified twelve year old she had first met.
So, instead of pointing out-yet again-that she was being ridiculous, Emily gave her a comforting tilt of the head as she stood back up.
"I'll bring it in myself." She brought the cane closer to her chest to indicate its importance. "I was going to take her to one of the new food trucks in the Mall. Want us to bring you something?" She smirked, already knowing what the answer would be.
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and shook her head, grimacing at the thought of the potential greasy contraption that could possibly infiltrate her home. "No, thank you." She managed to keep her response polite. "And make sure that Molly doesn't have too much junk. Her nutritionist is coming by tomorrow and he can smell fried cheese from a mile away."
She knew better than to put a complete moratorium on the slop her girls considered food, but she could at least attempt to limit it.
Uneven steps could be heard descending the wooden stairs and a moment later, Molly appeared with a clean shirt and her navy pea coat hanging off her arm. "By Liz!" She shouted, leaving the front door open behind her.
Emily took this as a sign that she was expected to follow her immediately. "I'll pop in when I drop her off." She promised, kissing her mother's cheek before slipping out as well.
Elizabeth watched them go from the front window and let out a tiny sigh.
Well. She thought, wiping her palms over her sweater and looking about the now silent house. Finally, I can get some work done.
/\\\/\\\
It was early September, but the intense storms from the week before brought in a cold front that competed with November's dampest of days.
Emily cranked up the heat a bit when they pulled up to the first red light outside of her mother's neighborhood. She glanced over at Molly who was fiddling in her seat with an eager smile. It was obvious that she had news that she could barely keep in, but Prentiss decided to play dumb.
"Do you have to go to the bathroom already?" She fabricated a tone of irritation as she pressed on the accelerator. "Think you can hold it until we get there?"
Ignoring her, Molly lifted her right leg and let it rest on top of the dashboard with a heavy thud. Slowly she inched up the cuff of her jeans, revealing a steel-blue series of metal wires and bars. "Aren't you going to compliment..." She paused for dramatic effect as she gestured the device with Vanna White hands. "...My new leg?"
With a laugh, Emily admired the prosthetic the best she could while operating a motor vehicle. "Oh my, how could I have missed it?" She gushed. "When did it come in?"
Dropping her leg, Molly tried to calculate the endless days in her head. "Last...Monday...I think?" She estimated. "It's about damn time too! I only had to have it refitted five hundred times!" It was more like two times, but after months of using her half-broken prosthetic, she was a bit testy.
"Why does it look like the inside of The Terminator?" Emily asked.
The last leg had been a simple metal mechanism with a ball and socket joint and the typical nuts and bolts. This new one looked as though it had been created in Garcia's greatest fantasy. Wires wove through metal bars like veins through flesh and it almost appeared to glow under the overcast sky.
"Your mom apparently knows someone who knows someone." Molly shrugged, waving her hand haughtily. "It's a prototype invented by some NASA scientist or something. This obviously means I'm ready for space travel."
Laughing at her sister-in-law's faultless logic, Emily pulled onto the interstate that would take them towards DC. Barely six months had passed since they'd apprehended Molly in Colorado. She let herself go through the grieving process while recuperating at the Prentiss Estate. And while it took most people months to go through the five stages, it took her less than a week.
This would have been disconcerting if it had been anyone else, but with Molly it was pretty normal. Even Elizabeth didn't seem bothered by the quick turnaround.
Of course, there were still moments of rage here and there-a broken Ming Vase that once sat proudly in the front entry was the most expensive casualty to show for this. Molly hurled it at her physical therapist when he all but ordered her to stop jogging every morning. She would not go without her five miles. She told the quack that if he thought she was pissed when she was able to do her run, he should see her when she couldn't do it.
The discussion was dropped after that.
A shrill ring filled the car, interrupting the calm they had settled into. Emily, at first happy to see Aaron's goofy grin taking over the screen, cringed when she noted that he was calling from his office phone. He only used that line for work related conversations, while his cell was for their private-and altogether more enjoyable-conversations.
"I take it that's not a booty call." Molly must have read her expression. She was spending too much time with the team-especially Garcia given that she had just uttered the phrase 'Booty Call'.
Emily gave her a tight smile and held her phone to her ear. "Hey."
"Have you already picked Molly up?" Aaron's stern voice came through.
"Uh-huh." Prentiss nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced over her shoulder to switch lanes. She figured it would be best to go ahead and get off at the next exit considering that she was probably going to have to turn around.
He was probably only asking her out of courtesy, because regardless of her status, she would need to come in if it were a case. Her impromptu afternoon off was only granted because they were having a slow day at the office. She must have jinxed them when she noted that earlier in the day when asking Aaron if she could take off. He of course had no problem with it, but when they were at Quantico he was her boss. And she still had to ask for his permission there.
That of course did not apply when they got home.
"We have a case." He at least sounded a bit regretful. "In Maine-eight victims so far."
Emily cursed and nodded, despite him not being able to see her. "Okay, I just need to drop her back off and I'll be there."
"No, no, no!" Molly's pleas almost muffled Hotch's reply.
"If you're close, just bring her in with you." He offered. "It won't be the end of the world if we have to delay takeoff by an hour."
They weren't close per say, but Prentiss hated the idea of dropping Molly off at that boring house again. "Okay." She bobbed her head. "If anything, she can hang out with Garcia for a bit. I can have one of mother's drivers come pick her up later."
Liking what she heard from her side of the conversation, Molly simpered and relaxed back into her seat.
She loved herself a Red Panda, but she would choose a day at Quantico over just about anything else.
/\\\/\\\
JJ was reviewing the files with tired eyes and a heavy heart.
Two children, an elderly couple, a blind woman, and three handicapped teenagers.
It was clear what this creep's victim type was right off the bat. And as she did with every one of their Unsub's, she tried-for just a moment-to figure out how someone could be so cruel.
How was this still shocking to her?
Shaking her head, she tightened her jaw and folded her fingers beneath her chin. No. She scolded herself. Be shocked. Don't let this be a common standard for you. Because the moment she would allow her mind to function like that-like a machine-was the moment she would need to leave this job.
Three sharp knocks on her metal doorframe told her that Hotch was there. Hotch had three sharp knocks. Emily's was one or two soft taps on the door itself-so as not to startle her-and Reid was usually speaking before was even at the entrance. Garcia took a different approach each time; whether it be the smell of fresh baked cookies wafting through the door way or the jingle of ten metal bracelets waving about as she did jazz hands around the frame, she preferred a grand entrance.
Rossi and Morgan just walked in. It wasn't that they were rude. Rossi was oblivious to such customs and Derek grew up with sisters-so he was more than likely fed up with the sanctity of a woman's private space. But JJ didn't care. They were her family, so they could come in with a burning bag of trash and she'd be there to welcome them and help find an extinguisher.
"Em...Prentiss is on her way." Hotch slipped, as he did more than five times a day. Everyone on the team knew about the dark haired couple but they rarely spoke of it during their long work days.
It was just one of those inevitable things that finally happened. Like the yearly geese migration or the first bloom of the Spring. It's beautiful and comforting, but it's better to enjoy it in silence.
"I hope we didn't ruin her day too much." JJ sighed as she stood from her seat and followed Hotch out into the hall. "I know she's wanted to get over there for the past few weeks."
The Unit Chief nodded, giving a small wave to a passing agent as they passed them on the ramp. "She's okay." He assured her, pausing outside of his door. "Molly's coming in with her. She's probably just happy to be out of the house for a little while."
"Why?" Morgan's voice came from his desk, where he'd learned to eavesdrop on even the quietest of conversations. "That place has an indoor pool, a twenty-four hour pastry chef, and a couple of lovely maids. I don't think I'd ever leave."
He had only been in The Ambassador's home for about ten minutes when dropping off some casseroles with Penelope, but he'd scoped it out to the best of his ability. He had always been curious about the life Prentiss came from. And the large portrait in the entry-the one of a five year old Emily with no front teeth wearing a puffy blue dress-gave him all of the insight he needed.
"Well, I'm sure that even a Casanova like Molly gets sick of looking at the lovelies." JJ rolled her eyes at the ever-so-charming Derek. "Besides, from what I hear, Ambassador Prentiss has a habit of hovering. And if she drove Emily crazy, can you imagine the affect she has on a reclusive assassin?"
Morgan conceded to her point with a low whistle and shake of the head. He was smart enough to refrain from saying anything else on the subject. Hotch's glare was still somewhat effective for him.
"Oh, who is that lovely little Cinnamon Stick?" Penelope's voice rang out across the bullpen, startling the trio.
The Tech Analyst had her unique monikers for everyone on their team, but she extended this ritual to Molly over the past few months. And her labels consisted mainly of adjectives for her fiery hair or her lean stature. Cinnamon Stick was a new variation of the two.
To her credit, Molly always summoned up a heartfelt smile for the bubbly blonde. She was of course happy to see her, as she was everyone in the BAU, but it was difficult to match Garcia's enthusiasm.
"Welcome back." JJ threw Emily an apologetic smile as she approached them on the walkway.
The brunette pulled a face and shook her head. "Eh, it's fine." She glanced over at her sister-in-law who was trying to keep up with whatever story Penelope was telling her in rapid pace. "It was too cold to go to the zoo anyway."
Despite the tiny white lie, Emily couldn't really say that she was disappointed about the change of plans. She had been to the zoo at least twenty times over the past year with Jack and Aaron and she was fine with missing out on this particular outing. The whole point was to get Molly out of the house.
Out of the tiny prison sentence that was living with Ambassador Prentiss.
And judging by the young woman's relaxed posture and genuine laughs, it was clear that this was doing the trick just fine.
/\\\/\\\
Two rows of four lined the front screen horizontally.
Eight photos of eight people-the same photos that had been run in the local newspaper with their respective obituaries.
JJ put them in order from youngest to oldest rather than the sequence of who was killed first. For some reason it was more meaningful this way. It really showed how this evil, evil creature's tastes were broad. No one was safe from him.
As soon as everyone was seated-Garcia came in last after logging Molly into one of her computers to play games-she moved aside to give them all a clear view of the display.
"These are the victims?" Derek asked what they all hoped was a rhetorical question after scanning all eight faces. He was just as stunned as the others. Sure, they dealt with Unsubs who were all over the map when it came to victimology, but this was something else altogether.
Though the variations in age, gender, and race were definitely off-putting, it was what they saw beyond the standard features.
JJ, not wanting to prolong the inevitable, nodded and zoomed in on the first picture. A freckled faced little boy with a blonde bowl cut and crooked grin dominated the screen. "Mattie Burroughs was our first victim." She tried not to notice the similarities to Henry. But it was as plain as day. "He was found on the shore behind his house the day after Christmas. Nine years old, strangled to death. His mom died when he was three and he was brought up by a single dad. He was the primary suspect right away and they locked him up in the local jail until two weeks later when..."
Next she went to the two last photos of the second line. With eyes as joyous as the smiles on their faces, the elderly pair was definitely a beautiful sight. But the agents had learned long ago not to grow too attached to anyone who appeared on that screen.
"Charlotte and Yancey Preble were found a mile down the shore."
"They look so sweet." Garcia's doleful words reflected what they all saw in the couple.
They could have been any of their grandparents. Happy and content, retiring on a little island that was supposed to be their safe haven.
"Yancey fought in World War Two as well as Korea and Vietnam." JJ bit her lip. "He had defensive wounds on his hands and feet."
Morgan swallowed and bobbed his head. "Went out like he lived." He didn't need to elaborate. It was obvious how Sergeant Yancey Preble lived. He was a fighter until the end.
Feeling her calm start to slip, JJ tried to hurry through the next five individuals while still giving them the respect they deserved.
Emma Hartsfield-female, early thirties, tall and thin, blind-was the sister of the town's priest. She was found in the confessional booth three Saturday's after the Preble's were laid to rest. She was also strangled, telling the town authorities that this was the same offender, but unlike the others, she'd been raped. Pre and Post-Mortem.
The day after Emma, there was Kendall Washington-female, eleven years old. Her younger brother found her in the fort they'd built in the woods behind their house. It was determined that she couldn't have been dead for more than an hour when the police arrived. They were all relieved to hear that she only shared cause of death with Emma and the others. She had not been assaulted.
That was when Chief Garnett contacted the FBI. He had reached the end of the road and it was time for their tiny town to get help from outside sources.
JJ was reviewing the case and considering following up with Garnett as soon as they finished looking into the killings in Jacksonville; but the timeline changed as soon as she checked her messages after lunch.
On Swan's Island, there was only one school. It went from Kindergarten to Twelfth Grade but it only had about two hundred students in all.
Three of the two hundred were enrolled in the Special Needs Class. This tiny group-aged between fifteen and seventeen-didn't need to get to the school until about eleven because they had their respective physical therapies first thing every morning. A van would meet at the town clinic to pick the trio up and delivered them to their teacher- Miss. Graham.
But that morning, the van didn't arrive. When it was nearly a quarter till noon, Miss. Graham called the clinic-the driver, Hank, was seventy and didn't believe in mobile phones. The secretary ensured her that the kids were picked up right on schedule and left nearly an hour before.
Before anything else could be done, Garnett arrived at the school, letting Miss. Graham know that the Hank's van had been stolen in the middle of the night, but they were sending someone out to pick up the teens.
The Chief paled when Miss. Graham told him about her phone call to the clinic. He had just assumed the children were stranded. In this town, one could drive anywhere faster than dialing a phone, so calls weren't always customary. But if he'd known, he would have sent his men out to find the van instead.
Because it was the van that had picked the kids up. It was the van that drove out of the parking lot. It was the van that disappeared down the old bumpy road that led towards the school and pretty much everything else on the island.
It was the van that was found an hour later parked outside of Hank's house.
Thinking he was beginning to lose his mind, the old man hurried out to his driveway, scratching the back of his head. His neighbor-the nosy woman with three ferrets and a tortoise-was on her front porch before the first scream tapered off.
An ambulance came for Hank-acute shock and minor cardiac events-while the coroner retrieved the three bodies from the van.
Photos of the latest victims came up on the screen. A male, age fifteen, and two females ages sixteen and seventeen. All three were in wheelchairs, but they appeared very happy in their pictures.
"Joey Keen had Cerebral Palsy." JJ sighed, barely glancing at her notes. The information had engrained itself in her brain over the last hour. "Alyssa Wilks, Muscular Dystrophy, and Katelyn Oglesby had two prosthetic legs and severe developmental delays."
'The mental age of a five year old.' The report had said. She was in an accident when she was a child-the same one she lost her legs in-and lost air flow to her brain for nearly twenty minutes. It was a miracle that she had even survived.
"So he preys on the weak." Morgan growled not letting the typical contemplative silence settle over the room. "It's not enough to go after kids and the elderly. He takes out anyone who can't fight back."
As a general rule, they were advised to keep clear heads when profiling serial killers. But as it usually turned out, that was impossible. This guy was the scum of the earth and they were more than ready to find him.
Even Spencer had foregone the need to point out facts and statistics that sometimes set him up as some sort of a Devil's Advocate. He wouldn't let that mistake be made today. This Unsub was on his own. There wasn't enough data in the world to validate these heinous acts. All murder was wrong. But to kill someone like Joey-Joey with a fire engine red wheelchair and a Pokémon t-shirt-it took a whole other kind of evil.
"All of these victims are local, yes?" Rossi clarified, waiting for JJ's nod before continuing. "Are they thinking that the Unsub is also from the area?"
With a hesitant shrug the liaison tried to recall the folder full of notes that Garnett had sent to her. "They don't want to assume at this point." She said, not fully agreeing with that plan. "With such a small town, they're trying to avoid causing a panic or any kind of witch hunt."
Justin Burroughs, Mattie's father, had been renounced by childhood friends and family the instant he fell under suspicion. Though he hadn't moved away from the island, as most may have done, he was still struggling to mend those relationships. It was understandable why the Chief was hesitant to point fingers at anyone else.
He'd leave that to the FBI.
"Okay, we don't have a lot of time to spare." Hotch's gaze didn't lift from his tablet when he spoke, but he still commanded the room. "Wheels up in twenty."
The group dispersed, each heading to their respective spaces to retrieve their go-bags and other supplies.
Emily was greeted by Molly as soon as she stepped out of the conference room. "Hey." She chuckled and glanced over the redhead's shoulder. "Did you ditch Garcia already?"
"She's in the bathroom." Molly pointed in the general direction of the facilities. "Are you guys leaving now?" She lifted her hand to receive the high-five Derek was bringing her way, but didn't look away from her sister-in-law.
Prentiss took note of her pinched brow and steely eyes. It was strange. Molly never really seemed upset when they left. She wasn't one to depend on the company of others so it didn't bother her to see them go. Of course, she worried for her new group of friends-their jobs weren't what one would consider innoxious-but she didn't let these concerns show.
She camouflaged better than the best Navy Seals.
"Yeah." Emily said after a beat. "Will you be okay here? Penelope can take you home." She reminded her, moving aside so that Aaron and Dave could come out onto the walkway as well.
Molly's eyes darted over her shoulder for a brief second. She made it seem as though she was simply considering the question. But it wasn't a difficult one to answer. It was practically rhetorical.
"Uh...Oh yeah. Of course." She shrugged, waving her hand about. "I'm sure we can still go to the Food Trucks. I'll get Liz one of those mac and cheese stuffed burritos or something. That will add a bit of merriment to the night."
The two laughed and simultaneously glanced out over the bullpen. Morgan and Reid were already loaded up with their bags and JJ was wandering over to them with Garcia at her side. It appeared that she was giving the analyst a list of what they needed to be looked into while they were en route to Maine.
Clearing her throat, Molly reached out and grasped Prentiss' arm. "Good luck Em. Try to stay out of trouble." She teased before turning head towards the others so that she could pass the same sentiment on to them.
"That was weird." Dave's voice came from over her shoulder.
Emily wasn't really surprised that he didn't go into his office after leaving the briefing. Not when there was a conversation going on right within earshot. He was like one of the old Russian hens who sat on the front porches lining the neighborhood to near their house when she was young. They were constantly gibbering back and forth and gossiping about anything with a pulse.
Only Rossi didn't use the intel he gathered for evil. He simply kept his eyes and ears open to ensure that all of his younger teammates were doing alright.
Prentiss gave him a tight smile and shrugged one shoulder. "Eh, it's Molly." She said in way of explanation.
Molly was weird. Molly didn't have one particular band of emotions to choose from. She decided day-to-day what she would feel and how she would respond to those feelings. One day, she'd be a bundle of nerves and rage, reacting to every little hindrance with the temper of a Wolverine. And the next day, she'd be mellow-almost as though she'd downed a bottle of Elizabeth's Xanax.
So today, she was distracted.
Rossi remained where he was. He obviously didn't buy into her apathy about the whole scene he'd just witnessed, but he decided to take Emily's lead and let it go. Worrying about Molly Prentiss' erratic conduct would only lead to an ulcer.
"We should get a move on." He winked at the lovely brunette before ducking into his office.
Though he couldn't see her anymore, Emily nodded as she turned to gaze back towards the bullpen.
Reid was showing flipping through one of his many, many, resource books and talking to Molly a mile a minute. For her part, the redhead nodded along and at least feigned interest. She seemed content-happy even.
Emily. She scolded herself with a shake of the head. Maybe it's time that you look into raiding Elizabeth's medicine cabinet.
With a self-deprecating smile, Prentiss trotted down the steps and wandered over to the desks to get ready as well.