"A child's fear is a world whose dark corners are quite unknown to grownup people; it has its sky and its abysses, a sky without stars, abysses into which no light can ever penetrate."
- Julien Green
"Rebecca Griffith," Garcia began reading from her laptop as her colleagues stood around her in the conference room, "Grew up in Charlottesville, Virginia, went to school in New York where she got her Bachelor's degree in International Relations, went on to get a Masters in Communications from the University of Virginia in 2006, and recently acquired her PhD in... "Transregional History" from Georgetown. Wow. Busy Girl.
"She had lovely little Olivia in September of 2010, no father listed on birth certificate..."
"He voluntarily terminated his parental rights to Olivia before she was born." Reid offered, his attempt at seeming apathetic useless against a room of profilers, "Last Rebecca knew, he was living somewhere in California. His name is Brandon Jameson."
"Brandon Jameson is...living in Oklahoma City - guess he never made to Cali," Penelope commented, "He shows no indication of recently traveling to the East Coast or trying to get into contact with Rebecca. Not even a Facebook friend request."
"Keep an eye on him," Rossi offered from his seat across the table, "He might still be involved somehow."
Garcia nodded and quickly wrote a program to track Jameson's financial activity. Any large deposits or withdrawals from his account and she'd know before his bank did.
"Reid," Agent Hotchner addressed the younger man, "Is there anyone else you can think of that would have a vendetta against Dr. Griffith?" Honestly, the lead agent truly wanted to inquire about the nature of doctors' relationship. Reid hadn't spoken a word of this 'Rebecca,' yet he knew the name of the man who abandoned her and had a comfortable enough relationship with her daughter that he was the first one she went to when trouble arose. Still, there was a time and place those questions, and it was neither here nor now.
Reid took a minute to ponder the question- and to run through a very long list in his head- before responding.
"No one that stands out," He answered honestly, "She makes a living by writing comprehensive articles and producing educational videos about some pretty controversial topics, so she usually gets a lot of threats. Nothing's come from any of them, though."
"I'll run through the comment sections of her videos and articles," Garcia stated, collecting up her laptop and scribbling a note to herself on her forearm, "See if there are certain IP addresses that stand out as particularly threatening. I'm off to go troll hunting!"
As the technician flounced out of the room and back to her office, the agents turned towards the white board placed in the front of the room.
On it was Rebecca Griffith's driver's license photo, captioned with her name, date of birth, and missing date. The sight made Reid's stomach churn. He couldn't fathom Rebecca as a victim, and yet here she wasn't. Her little girl, her proudest achievement, was sitting in a dark office with two people she didn't know, reliving what would undoubtedly be one of the worst mornings of her life. Her mother, currently driving up from Charlottesville, was probably worried sick. Her closest friend was stuck in Bethesda, her brother was hiking in the Rocky Mountains and had no idea she was missing, and her romantic partner was sitting in a conference room, staring at her picture on a board and trying not to lose his mind.
He could account for every active member of her life. Everyone but her. And it was driving him insane.
There had to be something he missed, some reason for two men to kidnap in the dark of night from her own damned house. There had to be something. So where was it? And where was she?
~0~
Olivia sat on the couch in Mr. Morgan's office, warily examining the darkened room as Mr. Morgan and Ms. Lewis pulled up two chairs and sat in front of her.
"Olivia," Mr. Morgan started, his voice noticeably softer from how he spoke earlier, when they were in the larger office space with all of the people. And all of the light. "What we're going to do here is called a "Cognitive Interview". Do you know what that means?"
Olivia shook her head, still studying the dark walls and shadowed corners, as though they held the most dangerous secrets in the world. And for all she knew, they may have.
Derek and Tara took note of the girl's palpable anxiety. She was obviously – and understandably – upset. Chances were that the trauma she suffered earlier this morning was finally starting to settle in her brain, and being in a strange room with strange people and no light was clearly not helping. Still, there wasn't much they could do about it right now, so they continued.
"A cognitive interview is when we take you back to a certain time and place," Tara explained, treading very lightly around the fidgety girl, "There are memories that are locked away in your mind, and a cognitive interview will help us get them out."
Olivia's composure continued to dwindle as a few stray tears fell from her eyes. She wanted to be strong for her mother. She needed to be strong for her mother. But she was scared. She was scared and alone and she just wanted a hug.
"Will it hurt?" She asked, her voice cracking and her eyes settling on a blank space on the back wall.
Tara shook her head softly. "No, sweety," she replied honestly, "You won't feel a thing."
"Is it scary?"
"It can be," Derek told her, continuing with Tara's honesty, "but we'll be right here with you the entire time. Nothing bad can happen to you."
For whatever reason, this seemed to have to opposite effect that the agents were hoping for. Instead of being reassured by the promise of their presence, Olivia became even more anxious. She scooted as far back into the couch as she could, pulled her legs into her chest, buried her face in her knees, and mumbled, barley loud enough to hear, "I want Mr. Reid, please."
~0~
Tara appeared in the conference room door, a slightly concerning look in her eyes.
"Reid," she called out, motioning out the doorway, "Olivia wants you."
A brief look of terror overtook the young man's face as he bolted away from the white board and out the door.
He knew he shouldn't have left Olivia alone, he freaking knew it. She was a strong, smart girl with a tenacity befitting Alexander the Great, but she was still a little girl. A little girl who was taught to stay away from strangers, who was scared of the dark, and who just lost her mom. Reid was the only familiar face she had right now, and he had left her. Alone. With strangers. In the dark.
When he got to Morgan's office, the lights were still off, but the door was cracked open. He entered slowly, so as not to startle Olivia, and made his way over to the little girl quaking in her yellow blanket.
"Olivia," He said softly, kneeling down next to her, "honey, what's wrong? Why are you scared?" It was a ridiculous question; he knew. But Olivia, like Rebecca, never appreciated it when people assumed that they knew something. As Rebecca always said: Stupid questions are better than no questions.
Olivia shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Understandable. On top of everything else that was probably bothering her right now, it was likely that she was dealing with a massive emotional overload. It was almost unreasonable to expect her to sift through everything and come back with a coherent response. Right now, all they could do was try to pull her out it long enough to get the interview done. After that, she would feel sated in her contribution to finding her mother and finally be able to relax. Or cry. Whichever she preferred.
Reid took a hold of one of her tiny little hands and ran his thumb across her fingers, just like Rebecca does. "Do you still want to do the interview, Liv?"
Olivia took a shaky breath and nodded. She unfurled and scooted closer to the two men in front of her. Upper lip still quivering, she took a few deep breaths before looking in Morgan's direction.
"Okay, Olivia," Morgan started, "What I'm gonna need you to do is close your eyes. Softly. Like you're pretending to sleep."
Olivia complied and Derek continued.
"Now I want you to think back to this morning. As far back as you can. What's the first thing you remember?"
"Dark," she replied instantly, "It was dark. Mommy turned off my Night Time lap. She does that."
"Okay Olivia, what happened after that? What was the second thing you noticed?"
"A…a voice." She said, her own voice trembling.
"Dude, just shut up, alright? It's gonna be fine."
Olivia froze in her bed. That was a man's voice. And not Mr. Reid's. And it was dark. There shouldn't be a not-Mr. Reid-man in the house when it's dark; especially not when it's bedtime.
"I don't think 'kidnapping' is gonna be fine, man."
Oh no. There was another voice. Two men. And they were talking about kidnapping. And they weren't supposed to be in the house. And they were going to kidnap someone. But it was only her and her mommy. Who were they going to…oh. Oh. Oh no.
Olivia slid further under her blankets as she heard the two men come upstairs. Should she scream? No, then they'd nowhere to find her. Maybe if she just hid under her blankets more, they'd go away.
The footsteps walked past her bedroom door. Ha! They didn't find her! Now they'd go away!
Oh. Oh no. They were going into her mommy's room. She could hear them turn the corner, open her door. They walked in. They were going to kidnap her mommy. Can people kidnap mommies? Is that allowed?
Olivia slid out of bed and cracked open her door. She could still hear voices, but not like before. They were quieter, whispering. She snuck out her room and tiptoed down the hall, avoiding the creaky floorboard in front of the towel closet. She peered around the corner and saw into her mommy's room.
There were two men standing on either side of Mommy's bed. One man motioned to the window, the other argued about something. Eventually, the other man, the shorter one with the wider shoulders and bigger arms, picked Mommy up and put her over his shoulder. Mommy didn't look right. She should've woken up.
The other man, the taller one without Mommy, said something else to the shorter man, before moving towards the bedroom door.
Olivia darted away from the corner and slid into the towel closet, the sound of the creaking floorboard masked by the man's footsteps. Through the shutters of the door, she could see the man. She committed his face to memory, intentionally storing it away for later use, and waited until she heard him leave.
When the patio door closed, she quietly emerged from the closet.
"I went and got Emergency Money from the Pug bowl," She said, "And walked to the bus stop that Aunt Jess told me about. They didn't want to let me on, but I said I really needed to get to Quantico, please, and they agreed."
Derek nodded, ignoring the "pug bowl" comment for now.
"You drew us a pretty good sketch of the first guy, Olivia," he told her, "Do you think you can do that for the second guy, as well?"
Olivia shook her head almost violently, her tears coming back.
"No," she nearly sobbed, "I didn't see him real well. I don't remember him."
"Do you remember looking into your mom's room?" Reid asked, knowing how Olivia's visual memories tended to work. The young girl nodded, and Reid continued, "Do you think you could draw that? What you saw when you looked in there?"
She nodded once more, and Reid went to lift her off of the couch.
"Then why don't we go back to my desk," He offered as he braced Olivia at his side, "we'll get you some blank paper and a pencil, and you can draw what you saw."
"Will that help?" Olivia asked quietly, mumbling into her yellow blanket.
"It won't be as good as having his photograph," Reid answered truthfully, knowing Olivia didn't respond well when she thought she was being deceived, "But it'll give us something to go on. Think you can do that, Liv?"
Olivia nodded for the third time, and Spencer walked them out of the Morgan's office.
~0~
It was cold.
That was the first thing she noticed: how cold she was. Her immediate response was to wonder why there were no blankets covering her when she distinctly remembered crawling under her comforter last night.
The second thing she noticed was the hard, dirt floor in place of where her mattress should be. The third: her hands and feet were bound.
Rebecca shifted as much as she could, propping herself against some kind of stone wall so she could kind of sit up and get a look at where she was.
A basement, she thought to herself, and an old one. It reminded her of childhood friend, Lindsay Ann. Lindsay Ann had an old house on the outskirts of Charlottesville, and it had a dirt-floor basement. She and Lindsay used to play pretend in the basement whenever Rebecca came over to visit.
But this wasn't Lindsay's house. And whoever brought her here wasn't playing pretend. A bolt of fear rushed through as she remembered Olivia.
Where was Olivia? Was she okay? Did these people have her? Did these people hurt her? If whoever did this laid one hand on her baby girl…
Rebecca stopped herself as she felt her heart rate jump. An anxiety attack wouldn't help her or Olivia right now. She had to stay calm and figure this all out. She couldn't do any good for her baby while she was confused and tied up. She had to figure out what was going on, and she had to get out of these restraints.
Though her hands were bound behind her back, Rebecca had a decent visual on her legs. Over the fabric of her fleece sweatpants a long piece of twine wrapped maybe five or six times around her ankles. From what she could feel through the flannel shirt she stole from her brother a few years ago, the same material seemed to tie her wrists together. She took a moment to consider what this may have said about whoever took her.
It was probably one of two possibilities. Either they were a first-timer, and didn't really understand what they were doing. If they were experienced, they'd have probably tied her up with something thicker than twine. Maybe a rope or duct tape. Something that wouldn't be easy for weasel her way out of.
On the other hand, twine was strong and sturdy. Her dad always had 3 spools of it: one for the home garage, one for the work garage, and one for his car. He used to joke that he could hitch a trailer onto the back on his car with nothing more than some twine and a good knot. It held strong, and it didn't wear out easily. So maybe her kidnapper had a history – either personal or familial – that allowed them to know that.
In the first case she had the upper hand. Her kidnapper was inexperienced and thus, probably had little to no plan. This gave her leverage. In the second case, the kidnapper knew what they were doing, and her leverage was severely lessened.
Still, she wasn't about to go down without a fight.
Rebecca figured she could undo the knot around her wrists with her teeth if she could just get her hands back in front of her. She also figured if daily yoga practices were ever going to pay off, it would be now.
~0~
"Can you stay in here with Grandma for a little while, Liv?" Spencer asked as he led Olivia to where her grandmother was waiting in Hotch's office, "I'm sure she could use your comfort."
Olivia nodded obediently as Reid opened the office door, drawing the attention of the frazzled older woman standing by the window.
"Oh Spencer!" She called, rushing over to him and wrapping him in a tight hug, "How did this happen? What's even going on? Is Olivia okay? Olivia, are you okay my little ladybug?"
Olivia gave a stiff smile to her grandmother and responded in the affirmative. Reid noticed her grip on his hand tighten slightly, and understood her discomfort. Both Olivia and her mother were reserved by nature, while Grandma Audrina was much more…Garcia-like. While the young girl could normally reciprocate her grandmother's enthusiasm on any normal day, today was far from normal. Besides, it was hardly 9 am, and Olivia usually doesn't begin functioning well until at least 10.
Wait.
"Audrina," Reid asked as the older woman cooed over her granddaughter, "How did you get here so quickly? The drive from Charlottesville to Quantico usually averages-"
"I'd rather not disclose that information to a federal agent, if you don't mind," Audrina half-joked, though the underlying threat in her tone told Reid to drop the subject.
He nodded his head, gave Olivia a quick kiss on the hand (she didn't like it when people kissed her face), and walked toward the conference room just as Anderson was leaving it.
"The police in Springfield have secured the scene," Hotch told him as he entered the room full of his colleagues, "The personal nature of this case has convinced them to give it to us willingly. You, Morgan, and Lewis will go examine the crime scene. Is Olivia with her grandmother?"
Spencer nodded.
"Good," Hotch confirmed, "Then get on the road. Springfield is-"
"36 minutes away," Spencer finished in a flat tone, following Derek and Tara as they walked out of the conference room.
I've created a general outline for this story, and it looks to be about 8 chapters long, with the chapters varying in length. The story will feature "flashbacks" occasionally, which will be typed in full italics. If you have trouble reading in full italics, let me know and I can provide copies of the flashback scenes in regular typeface.
As always, please let me know if you catch any spelling, grammar, or continuity errors. Keep in mind that some mishaps (fragmented sentences for emphasize, poor grammar to match speaking patterns, ect.) are intentional.
Sincerely,
Cut Into Dreams
