Rossi sat shotgun as Pritchard drove to the meet up with the K9 unit. "We sent the dogs to follow the route that Micah took every day. The whole town knows the route he takes through town, I always meant to tell him to change it up, but you don't worry about boys the same you do with girls. And the kid makes me feel like a midget, I don't know how he could be taken."
"Let's be real, is anyone certain he was kidnapped?" Morgan stopped Pritchard's protest, "No, just listen. He's 16, maybe he got tired of small town life, found a cute girl, he's probably living it up in DC for the weekend, while half the cops in the state are out looking for him." Morgan was baiting the man for his reaction and everyone in the truck knew it.
Pritchard ground the gears of the truck as he slammed it into park, jerking his passengers against their restraints. He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel before turning to look Morgan in the eye. "How about you listen, Fed, Micah is not some runaway. He checks in with annoying frequency, no one has heard from him for hours now, his phone isn't on and he never shuts that thing off. He's the most careful kid I've ever met."
"Why's his school record littered with fights, if he's so careful?" Morgan challenged.
"If you read those reports through, you'd see that Micah ends fights, he doesn't start them. He has had a string of fights in the last few weeks but he was defending Preeta and witnesses reported that he took a defensive stand not pressing his physical advantage."
"As for running off, the kid doesn't know how to be irresponsible and he certainly isn't off with some girl, whooping it up. Hell, it wasn't until last Easter that the kid would voluntarily hug someone. Not his mom, not his sister, no one before then. The boy is slowly recovering from a nightmarish childhood. I don't know the whole story, but I've seen the scars and they're bad enough that I don't want the details because I would string up whoever did it. I have also witnessed the process he's made since coming to town and I am hoping to watch him grow into a halfway decent person, we need to find him. So get your head in the game. If you can't, get out, the interstate's that way." Pritchard jerked his thumb to the south and flipped around into his seat breathing hard.
Rossi gently said, "This is the second time someone has jumped down our throat in the last hour, all we want to do is help. Tell us what the hell is behind the anger. It only slows the investigation if you hold back information."
"I'm not holding anything back, I don't know what's going on. Its more a sense of dread. I don't know of any one in the area who would chance an attack on the Clemmens. Micah's a good kid, amazingly, and Sera is going to freak out if we can't find him. I know what to do for them as a cop, but as a friend its much tougher."
"Then you need to focus on how you can help her. This situation is excruatingly tough everytime we see it. We'll do everything possible and then some." Morgan added from the back.
"That's true. But the Clemmens, Sera is the lynchpin of the community, her family has been for decades. When the Klan tried to move into the city, Sera's daddy, Cedric, held the cemetary hostage, he was ready to desecrate the land. Around here that means damning generations to hell. The town chose to run the Klan out rather than try calling his bluff."
Pritchard got the truck moving again as he continued the story. "Now, Sera has always been pretty beneficial to the community. She's gotten scholarships for the kids, runs fundraisers, brings in new businesses. Heck, I even owe her for my job. She convinced me to go into law enforcement, got me a seat in the program. She took in my sisters and let us live in the house, so I didn't have to worry about anything. I was a 20 year-old orphan with two baby sisters to look after, she was fifteen and changed my life."
"Sounds like an awesome person to have on your side. Where's the problem?"
"The first thing she said to me this morning is that we need to recover Micah's body." Pritchard paused as he made a turn, "Sera lost her mind for a year or so when her parents died in an airplane crash. She was a zombie, wouldn't talk to anyone other than 'thank yous' and that's only cause she was raised right. She couldn't bury her parents, if she can't bury her son, she's going to go nuculear."
Rossi was shocked at the defeatest attitude. "The outcomes aren't limited to finding or not finding the body, we are still confident that we will find Micah alive."
"I'm not new to the game fellas, abductions rarely end well. And I just...I just have a bad feeling."
"The faster we move on this case the better Micah's chance of being found safe and alive. We work under that assumption until we know different." The three rolled out of the truck and met the officers blocking the road.
/\/\/\
"Wanna talk about it?" Emily shielded her eyes as she scanned the terraced levels of the cemetery. The day was getting hotter, never a good thing during stressful situations where tempers didn't need to flare any faster.
Not receiving a quick answer, she turned back to the building. "Come on." The two walked around the building, Reid lagging behind in thought.
"When we were little, she said she lived in a castle, I didn't believe her so I had her make me a map." They began the desent to the bay doors, "She labeled this the Catacombs. And that," Reid tipped his head back and pointed up at the chimney, "Was Sherlock Holmes."
"A kid nicknamed the crematorium 'Sherlock Homes'?"
"Her mom didn't want to say that it was a burning day so she would just look out the window and comment on how hard Sherlock was thinking. Sera mentioned it often in her letters." With a final look up, Reid went to the side door and pounded on it with an open hand.
Emily angled her head and caught a few strains of music from behind the door, the keys jangled as she unlocked the door. She was almost bowled over as the thump of drums assulted her when the door cracked. As the two walked into the clammer, the door slid smoothly closed, the 4 inches of steel hitting home to seal the noice in. The bay doors were similarly thick and they passed a serious block and tackle system that could only be used to ease those doors open for deliveries.
Emily didn't like being surrounded by all this sound while she was on the job. She was a rocker from way back, but a smoky club was one thing, this was quite another. She was raised to see mortuaries as solemn places to pay last respects and the Foo Fighters had no place in her version of a funeral. Her hand slipped down to unsnap her holster before she opened the inner door.
The sight they came upon wasn't in her definition of morticians either. Stephan Rutherford was banging out a drum solo and lip syncing with painful intensity. Even from across the room, Emily could see veins popping out of the man's neck and forearms. Closed eyes and guitar riffs shielded the BAUers enterance until the man hit a power note and opened his eyes to see two strangers in front of him. He embarrassedly fumbled the stereo controls, hitting nearly every button before finding the power.
"Sorry, Desa, hope you weren't waiting too long, just releasing some stress I... you're not Desdemona. Who are you people?" Rutherford's hair was messy from his recent performance, he finger raked it back under control. He moved forward, exposing his hawaiian print shorts and letting Reid see that his shirt was a promotional tee from a diner. His flip-flops were almost expected by this point.
"We're from the FBI, SSA Emily Prentiss and Dr. Spencer Reid. You are Stephan Rutherford, is that correct?" Emily shook his hand while Reid began pacing the room.
With a deep southern accent, he said, "Call me Ford if you want, y'all find something?"
"We are working with the locals to find Micah Clemmens, Dr. Reid and I just want to talk to you for a while."
"One of the deputies already asked me about my 'whereabouts' this morning but sure, shoot." Ford pivoted to keep Reid in his sight but submitted to Emily's questions. Ford had taken over the mortuary after Mr. Clemmens death, having been his apprentise. He bought the business from Sera ten years ago, to include the name and building. He had his own apartment adjacent to the mortuary, private entry and locks, but joined the family for most meals and during holidays. They went over his morning, matching up with the reports submitted by the deputy. He had spent the morning prepping Mrs. Saperstein, she was to be transferred to a funeral home in the next county in a few hours. The plans being changed in deference to Micah's disapearance. He repeated the line about death not waiting, Emily wondered who was parroting whom.
"So you cranked some music and sped up your work."
Ford's hackles raised as he sensed Emily's disapproval. In defense, he was more offhand than usual."Well, she's a fun gal, didn't think she would mind the tunes. Although she's probably more into Beatles than the Foo." He stared at Emily, waiting for the traditional joke about warming up a cold date.
Emily was startled as Ford shouted, still staring at her with cold blue eyes, "If you open that drawer, I will cut your fucking hand off!" Ford and Emily both whiped around to see Reid jump, his hand on the release to one of the body drawers. Ford was at the man's side in a blink of an eye, swatting the hand away. Reid backed away from Ford, surprised by the outburst. "Its my responsibility to protect these bodies while they are under my roof. I don't care if you are Feds, you can't just go about disturbing their rest. If you need something, you ask, savvy?"
"What are all the c-colored flags for?" Reid couldn't keep the stutter from his question, he had only been curious about the post-its on the front of each drawer. Four were neon pink, the other 16 boring yellow.
Ford answered in a clipped manner, "The colors are holding current guests, the yellow are empty. Was it that so hard?" Ford's eyes narrowed as he studied the man in front of him. "Do I know you?"
"I've never been here before." Which was the truth, but he added anyway. "I knew Sera when we were kids. In Vegas."
Ford pinched the bridge of his nose and ruffled his hair again. Not getting enough release he pushed his palms into his eyes, pressing hard. The agents watched as he took a seat, slouching his back against the work table. He put his head back and spoke to the ceiling, "God, why are you hitting us with all ths shit at once?" The fight seemed to leave the man, he emitted an palpable despair. Still addressing himself upward, "First you take Micah from our sight, then you send specters and half-remembered faces to torment us. I'd say you were funny, but really you're just an ass."
Reid gave Emily a sidelong glance, she was much more comfortable with this 'god' stuff than he was, it helps to have a lapse Catholic on the team. He nudged her forward as she shot him a scathing look.
"You always talk to God like that?" She tried a bit of humor to lighten the mood.
"I haven't talked to God in a long time, this is just a bad habit I've picked up living with the Clemmens. Unlike most around here, they have a personal connection with God, talk to him like an old friend rather than someone to be awed. The relationship is on the rocks, more often than not. Swearing is always involved, sometimes multiple languages. Basically, it won't help if I beat the hell out of Agent Reid so I abuse God cause that fucker can take the hit." Ford popped his knuckles before stomping off the stool to pace the floor.
Emily shuffled to shield Reid a bit. "Well, you're just making friends left and right around here, aren't you Reid?"
Reid flinched but remained quiet.
Curiosity finally got the best of Emily who blurted out, "When we came in here, you mistook me for someone else. Now, you're the second person to call me Desdemona. What's with that?"
"Desa is Sera's cousin, aunt, something like that. I can't keep the generations straight, probably aunt since I think Sera's the only one in her's." Ford went to a bookshelf stuffed with medical texts to unearth a battered photo album. He flipped through until he found a group shot. Six, obviously related, people raised glasses toward the camera, laughter could almost be heard from the happy faces. In the center, face tilted to the left was Emily's double, the difference being a puggish nose while Emily's was long and narrow. The woman was younger but the same wide mouth and bright eyes appeared with hair caught mid-flip.
"Well now I know what all the fuss was about."
Ford caught her eye, holding her gaze he commented, "Yeah, the similarity is remarkable. I realized you weren't her after a second but, you're real close. If it weren't for the badge I would accuse you of being family."
Their words went over Reid's head as he studied the picture, "Emily..." Reid's nose was almost touching the page as he looked at another part of the photo.
As she looked closer, Emily saw what was bothering him. A young, happy Hotch was staring out at them, arm wrapped around the neck of the man next to him. "Is that Hotch? No, way."
"I never saw the resemblance before," Reid mumbled to himself.
Ford leaned over to see who they had focused on, "Don't know who Hotch is but that's Cedric Clemmens, Sera's dad."
/\/\/\
JJ cleared her throat, trying to gain the woman's attention. Sera and Hotch were staring at each other, apparently at ease. Hotch could wait hours for the girl to break but they didn't have that type of time today. They still didn't have a lead, unless the K9 unit panned out.
"Miss Clemmens? You were going through the events of the morning?"
Sera shook her had to clear it, dragging her eyes away from Hotch. "Um, yes, Cevin realized that Micah wasn't back around 7:30 and brought it to my attention. Micah's phone wasn't on which was weird, so I called our neighbors to get a visual on him, but I lost track of him between the Brodrick's and Mjedovich's farm. Zed Mjedovich took a walk along his property but didn't see Micah. I called John Pritchard then, Micah's like a clock, takes the same route every morning, he's training to join a lacrosse club in the fall."
"So, he's pretty athletic?" Hotch made some notes as he asked the question.
Sera addressed his bent head, "Yeah, he hit a growth spurt last year, you've seen a picture, he's a big boy. I've been working with him to expand his social circle. He prefers to join city leagues rather than going for the school teams."
"How's he do within that team dynamic?" JJ heard a light southern accent emerge from her boss, realizing that he was mimicing Sera's voice.
"He's okay, doesn't join in the group outings afterward or the horsing around, but he holds his own. Celebrates the scores, good sport when the team loses."
"So he likes the activity but not the commradery? The other folks are just there, but not pals. Keeps himself to himself."
Anger flashed across Sera's face as she noticed the change in accent. "You don't have to trot out the drawl for me, Agent Hotchner, you've been swallowing it for years, don't waste the energy. Yes, Micah keeps to himself. As part of a team he can blend, the wins and loses are not solely on his shoulders which is why he stopped tennis and boxing. The people he plays are older but he is more comfortable with them than his peers who ask too many questions."
"Why does he avoid questions?" Hotch held her gaze and kept the drawl.
"Micah's father was a complete waste of oxygen. The boy's riddled with scars, scars that make teenagers ask questions, probing for weakness. The adults have too much on their minds to worry about an average player who's been knocked around. Doesn't hurt that Micah is a quick change artist."
Hotch heard JJ texting Garcia for more information on Micah's early life. "What's the father's name?" He wasn't ready to admit they hadn't had any information on the boy's abuse or family before the Clemmens.
"Richard Devareaux. You might want to forward the name Robert Devareaux to your computer person, that's Micah's given name."
It was Hotch's turn to have anger flood his face. "Micah's not his real name, didn't you think we needed that bit of information earlier? You've wasted a lot of time, time we don't have."
"It shouldn't matter, I've spent a lot of time and resources deleting Robert from the face of the earth, Micah's the real one now."
"Deleting? What do you mean?"
"Robert Devareaux doesn't exist any more, everything is Micah Clemmens now, birth records, social security, baptism record, school records from before he came to me. The only connection to his old life is his father, who is rotting in the general population curtesy of the great state of Alabama."
"Richard Devareaux broke out of prison yesterday." JJ butted in with the fresh information from Garcia.
Sera shook her head in disbelief, swallowing hard to keep her stomach in check she avowed, "That's not possible, one of the guards calls me if there are any changes. He hasn't called." Her hand groped until she found her phone, she checked the messages in vain, knowing she would find nothing.
"A guard was found beaten to death, Geoffrey Monroe. There were signs of torture according to the autopsy."
"Get Garcia to forward Devareaux's picture to the team and the locals. Morgan and Rossi can flash it around town since they're already out with Pritchard." Hotch watched as Sera's face crumpled with the new information, but he also knew it was the best lead they had, it was too much of a coincidence to have Micah's father kill the one guard that knew the family. They had to follow it up.
Sera laid her head in her arms on the desk, muttering, "Geoff had a newborn, they came here for Christmas last year." She pulled her head up, propping it on her fists to look at the doppleganger in front of her. Tears trickled down, right before she rushed for the trash can, retching as the fear took her.