And Justice For All

Summary: Dave and Garcia work together to track down a killer.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm just playing with them.

Chapter 2 – Fox and the Hounds

Morgan rapped three times on Garcia's apartment door. He and Emily exchanged a glance as they waited for the door to open. After half a minute, he knocked again.

Emily pulled her key ring out of her pocket and slid one of the keys into the deadbolt. She turned the key then unlocked the knob and pushed the door open.

"Garcia," Emily called out as she crossed the threshold.

"Baby Girl where are you?" Morgan yelled as well.

They quickly searched the empty apartment.

"Where the hell is she?" Morgan asked. Frustrated he flipped open his phone and dialed. "Maybe we missed her."

"Morgan," Emily said as she moved to the kitchen. "There's a note."

He snapped his phone shut and moved to her side. "What does it say?"

Emily picked up the note and read it aloud. "Years ago I made a decision that led me to the BAU, today I have made a decision that may ultimately lead me away. I know we all think we are doing the right thing. And who knows maybe we are all doing the right thing. But at this very moment David needs my help. He doesn't know it yet but I do. Take care loves hopefully I will see you again soon. Garcia"

Morgan flipped open his phone and dialed.

"Hotch," he said when the phone was answered. "Things just got worse, Garcia has gone after Rossi."

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"Yo Davey! Wake up! There's some broad here that says she's going to close my bank accounts and max out my credit cards if she doesn't see you real soon."

"That would be Garcia," Dave mumbled from his pillow. "I take it she's alone?"

"Yeah," the man in the doorway replied.

"Tell her very nicely that I said go away."

"Yeah, ok" the man replied as he backed out of the doorway and closed the bedroom door.

Dave listened to the receding footsteps for a moment before reaching over and turning on the bedside lamp. Any minute now and he would be having an unwelcomed guest. It wasn't long before the door opened and hurricane Garcia blew in.

"Go home," he said succinctly.

"Not happening," she replied sweetly as she relieved herself of her many bags against the bedroom wall. "You need to get a move on we have lots of things to do. Where are we going from here?"

Dave threw back the covers and sat up. His bare feet dangled over the side of the bed. His hair was mussed and his pajamas were slightly askew on his frame. Garcia tried to hide her smirk at his rumpled state.

"You are going home," he stated in his best interrogator voice.

She shook her head. "If I go back without you they will throw me in jail."

"Says who?"

"Me," she replied sadly. "I've broken so many rules to find you they will put me away for the rest of my life. You don't want that to happen do you?"

He stared at her pensively for a moment. "What did you do?"

"I tampered with the FBI's main server," she confessed.

It was his turn to shake his head. "I don't even know what that means."

"The server is the place that stores any and all information that is accessed by the individual computers," she explained. "It's the brain of any computer system."

"And what did you do to it?" he inquired.

"I erased a lot of really pertinent data," she cringed.

"I still don't see the problem," he sighed as he stood up and stretched.

Garcia was momentarily distracted by the ribbon of skin above his pajama bottoms that was exposed when his shirt rode up. A trail of dark hair split his abdomen in half as it descended from his belly button to somewhere below the waistband of his pants. Dave yawned loudly breaking the spell she was under.

"You need me," she told him.

He lowered his arms and glared at her.

"If I hadn't come here they would have made me find you," she continued. "And then what? You wouldn't be able to solve this case and it would eat at you just like that case in Indiana."

He started to speak but she cut him off. "Look how fast I caught up to you and I'm not a profiler." She grinned at him. "I told you once, you can't hide from me."

"This isn't going to be a vacation," he said harshly wiping the smile from her face.

"I know. I am familiar with field work," she reminded him.

"You have to do what I tell you without hesitation," he said as he moved to stand directly in front of her. His voice dropped to a whisper. "If I tell you to duck, you duck. If I tell you to leave, you do it. No questions asked. Understood?"

She nodded.

"We're going to need as much information as we can get. You go do your thing on the computer while I go take a shower," he ordered.

"I've already compiled everything I could last night," she smiled hesitantly. "We can discuss it when you're done with your shower."

"We'll discuss it in the car," he smiled in return. He leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you're here. We'll leave when I get dressed."

Dave grabbed his go bag and left the room as Garcia processed the fact that he had just kissed her. Sure, it was a peck on the cheek but he kissed her.

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Dave's cousin, who lived in New Jersey, was kind enough to loan them a car; a very spacious, very fast car. Garcia made herself comfortable in the passenger seat and stared at Dave as he drove.

"So we've got eight victims," Dave stated. "Seven of whom are similar in age, education and physical makeup and one just thrown in there randomly. The only thing in common was the dump site. Too bad we don't have any pictures of the crime scene."

"Unfortunately those weren't scanned into the computer," Garcia apologized.

Dave nodded as he maneuvered through the local traffic trying to head north. "I wonder if we call the locals if we'd have any luck," he pondered.

"What if the team is already there?"

"I doubt it. They probably just realized I'm not there unless a new case came in and Hotch tried to call me," he assured her.

"You shut off your phone right?" she asked anxiously. "One of the first things they will try to do is track us through our phones."

"I remember," he said softly. "It's going make communication difficult for us."

"We should get some throw phones," she mumbled while she searched through her purse.

"That's a good idea," he agreed. "Keep an eye out for a place where we can buy some."

They rode in silence for a few miles before spotting a chain store that would serve their purpose. Dave waited in the car while Garcia went in to buy what they needed. She was gone for about fifteen minutes before returning with two bags full of stuff.

"How many phones did you buy?" he questioned.

"Just two," she assured him. "I got some other stuff since we're going to be on the road for a while. I figured we could rely on some snacks to help us get more miles behind us faster."

"Huh?"

"We won't have to stop for food for a while," she said slowly. "Fewer pit stops."

"Oh good lord," he muttered. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot as Garcia began opening packages.

"I'm going to program my number into your phone and your number into my phone. We should use a code though."

"A code?" he repeated. He rubbed his face with one hand. "You're not going all James Bond on me are you?"

"I just want to be careful," she replied. "If one of us gets caught then the other should know not to answer the phone."

"Ok, you have a code you want to use."

She smiled at him. "Just text me before calling."

"What should I say?"

She thought for a moment. "Just text my nickname."

He glanced over at her.

"Kitten," she urged.

He smiled. "What are you going to text to me?"

"Tom."

"Tom?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

He waited for her to explain. She was distracted by the two phones in her hands. "Well?" he prompted.

She looked at him.

He sighed. "Why Tom?"

She grinned. "Tom, as in tom cat. Roar!"

"Oh geez," he groaned.

"Every kitten needs a tom," she smiled. She handed him a phone. "Don't lose it."

"Yes dear," he muttered. He slipped the phone into his shirt pocket.

Three hours later they stopped for gas and to use the restrooms. Dave flipped through the file as he waited for Garcia to return. He needed another advantage or he would be getting no where quickly. As he re-read the notes he realized that all of the files had been updated periodically even if it was to say that nothing new had been found. He decided to take a chance. Flipping to the front of the file he looked for and found the name of the lead detective, Max Carlton.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the number for the local police department. When it was answered he asked for the detective by name.

"Detective Carlton," the deep voice stated that answered the phone.

"Detective, I'm hoping you can help me."

"I'll sure try," the man replied with a distinct New England accent.

"My name is David Rossi," he began.

"Wait!" The detective ordered. "Let me call you back on my cell phone. Give me two minutes. I promise. I'm here for you."

"Ok," Dave said cautiously. "I'll be waiting."

"Who are you calling already?" Garcia asked as she walked up behind Dave.

He turned around. "Detective Carlton."

"What did he say?" she asked anxiously.

"Not much," Dave frowned. "Once I told him my name he told me to wait and said he would call me back from his cell. They can't trace it, right?"

She shook her head. "That's just weird. Why did you call him?"

"You're questioning me?"

"I'm just trying to follow along," she explained. "I have no idea where you are going with this."

Dave was about to answer when his cell phone rang. "Hello," he answered cautiously.

"Sorry about that," Detective Carlton replied. "I didn't want anyone to hear our conversation. The whole department is flipping out because the FBI is coming."

"I see," Dave said.

"I got a call from Aaron Hotchner who told me you might be calling me," Carlton said.

"What else did he say?"

"Just that you were looking into the case of Sylvia Mathers murder and asked us not to help you," Carlton explained.

"I understand," Dave replied dejectedly.

"However," the detective continued. "I've been following this case since the beginning and I would like to see it closed the right way. If you know what I mean."

"I think I do," Dave said feeling more confident. "I had a feeling we were of the same mindset. You're still investigating, aren't you?"

"Yes," Carlton whispered. "Under the radar which hasn't gotten me very far."

"Any chance I could get some help from you?"

"Absolutely," the detective smiled. "When Agent Hotchner called I knew the time had finally come."

"Detective…"

"Max. Please."

"Max," Dave acknowledged. "I'm also looking into seven other murders; white women who were found in the park."

"I know what you're talking about," Max replied.

"I'd really like to see the crime scene photos," Dave told him. "I have the preliminary reports but no pictures."

"Sure. I can get them for you," Max said. "Agent Hotchner never said anything about those cases."

"Good," Dave replied. "I'm hoping he won't find out for a while."

"You think these are all related?"

"Don't you?"

The line was silent for a moment then Dave heard Carlton speak away from the phone. "Tell the FBI I'm talking to my wife and I'll be in there in a moment."

"The team has arrived," Dave told Garcia.

"Yes they have," Carlton confirmed. "Are you in town?"

"No. Unfortunately I have to drive there. I won't be arriving for several hours."

"Alright. I'll gather up what I can and try to keep these guys running around in circles," he laughed. "Call me when you get here, use this number, and we'll meet up."

"Thank you Detective."

"No. Thank you for doing what I've wanted to do for years."

Dave hung up the phone and looked at Garcia. "Looks like we have an inside man."

"Can we trust him?"

"We're going to have to," Dave said. "You want to drive for a while?"

"A 2010 Camaro? Absolutely! Boyfriend you do know the meaning of foreplay!"

Dave shook his head as he climbed into the passenger seat and belted himself in. He wondered what he had just gotten himself into. "Don't get stopped for speeding," he reminded her. "Or our time as The Lone Ranger and Tonto will come to a quick end."

"Yes dear," she grinned as she peeled out of the parking lot.

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"We really don't have a lot to go on," Reid stated for the fifth time since they arrived at the police station. "If we had multiple victims then we could build a profile but…"

"Tell us something we don't know Reid," Morgan cut in.

"I think the victim and her attacker knew each other," Reid speculated.

"Why would you say that?" Detective Carlton asked.

"Look at the crime scene photos," he said as he handed a photo to the detective. "See how her arms are crossed? She was mostly covered up and she hadn't been raped."

"I don't understand," the detective replied.

"The crossed arms shows remorse," Morgan filled in. "The suspect was sorry that this happened."

"What about the lack of rape?" the detective questioned further.

"Most female homicides are done by sexual predators," Reid explained.

"Murder is an after thought," Hotch supplied as he walked into the room. "It's a way to cover up the original crime. This is different though, she didn't fight back and her clothes weren't ripped. I agree with Reid our attacked knew her, which doesn't help us much."

"Sure it does," Detective Carlton voiced. "We can interview everyone who knew her and find the killer."

"No we can't," Hotch said grimly. "I thought I made it clear when I called Detective. We're not here to solve this case; we're here to find an Agent who has lost his way."

Detective Carlton snorted. "Lost his way? Are you kidding me? He's trying to solve this case isn't he?"

Hotch nodded.

"I'd say someone is finally doing the right thing!"

"I understand," Hotch said. "And please believe me I agree. Unfortunately, I have my orders."

"So you're going to let a murderer continue to go free?" the detective asked.

Hotch glanced around the room and saw that they had garnered the attention of everyone in the police station.

"Agent Rossi is working outside of the law and even though his intention is well put it is misguided. Anyone caught trying to help him can and will be punished by federal law. David Rossi is my friend and I know that what he is doing is the right thing however, sometimes we have to do what we are told," Aaron stated loudly. "Even if it means letting a killer go free. I'm sorry."

Detective Carlton sighed and let his shoulders slump. "I know. I was just hoping that after all of these years something good would come out of this."

Aaron stepped next to the detective and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand your frustration," he whispered. "Trust me we're going to drag this out as long as we can."

"I'm sorry?" Detective Carlton frowned.

"Tell your wife, I mean you ex-wife, to hurry his ass up."

Detective Carlton bit back a smile. "I don't know what you mean."

"I'm sure you do," Hotch replied as he stepped away.

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David Rossi pulled the car into a shabby looking motel about three miles from their destination. After two hours of reminding Garcia to slow down and listening to her sing loudly to the crap she called music he had had enough and made her switch with him. He had changed the station immediately and turned the volume down that had been four hours ago. Garcia had pouted for about twenty minutes before falling asleep. Now Dave was really tired and wanted to get some sleep himself but he knew he had a long night ahead of him.

"Where are we?" Garcia asked.

"The area's least finest motel," he answered.

"We're not staying here, are we?"

"You don't like it?"

"It looks like the Bates Hotel," she replied.

"It probably is," he muttered as he got out of the car.

"David!" She followed him to the office. "Can't we go a little further?"

"We'll change hotels tomorrow," he assured her.

"I don't want to sleep alone in this place," she grumbled as she grabbed his arm and clung to it.

"Ok," he agreed. He smiled at the desk clerk. "We need a room."

"I don't have any doubles," the clerk stated. "One room, one bed. Is that ok?"

"That's fine," Dave said quickly ignoring the pain in his arm as Garcia squeezed it tightly. He looked at her pointedly as the clerk stepped away. "What?"

"We're sharing a bed?"

"Unless you want your own room," he said. "I'm not sleeping on the floor or in the bathtub."

She huffed at him.

"Ok," the clerk said. "That'll be forty bucks."

Dave handed over some cash and took the key. He signed the registry and they left the office.

"I hope you didn't just sign your name," she said darkly.

He grinned at her. "I did. Mister Tom Katz and his beautiful wife, Kitten."

Garcia laughed as they made their way back to the car then up to their room. As promised the room had one bed, gratefully it was a queen sized bed. They placed their bags in the room; Garcia scrounged through her shopping bags as Dave surveyed the room.

"We don't have much food left," she announced. "In fact we only have a handful of crackers."

"We'll get something when we meet up with Max," Dave told her.

She looked at him round eyed. "I'm going too?"

He nodded. "You won't meet him. In fact, I want you to observe from a distance and pretend that you don't know me. Can you do that?"

She nodded. "Where are we going to meet him?"

"I don't know. I need to call him and let him know we're in town or close to it."

He pulled out his cell and dialed the detective's number.

"I was starting to worry," the detective said as he answered.

"Sorry, it took longer than I expected," Dave explained. "Can you still meet me tonight?"

"Yeah," Max replied. "There's a church at the edge of town on the east side, can you meet me there in say, an hour?"

"Ok," Dave agreed. "What kind of car do you drive?"

"I have a green Ford truck but I'll be walking the church is about three blocks from the police station," Max stated.

"Ok. I'll meet you there," Dave stated and hung up the phone. He looked at Garcia. "Let's go."

"We're going now?"

He nodded. "I want to scout ahead. Always be prepared."

"Isn't that the boy scout motto?" she asked.

"It's our motto now as well," he informed her.

"If you say so Tom," she laughed as they left the motel room.

End Chapter 2