Oh, please dear Goddess, don't let anyone with mad technical skills read this chapter. I did some research before writing Garcia's part (thanks to my technopuppy), but I'm afraid I'm essentially hopeless when it comes to computers. Please be kind in your reviews.

This is where you might benefit from reading chapter 10 of Condemned. It'll stand without it, but if you're looking for a little more background, that's where you can find it.

I do not own, rent or otherwise lay claim to Criminal Minds, I simply use it for my own twisted fantasies.

XOXOXOXO

Detective Bains drove Morgan and Prentice from the Cutter's home in Green Lake the short distance to the Lunnar's home in the University District. This neighborhood was strikingly different from the first. The homes were older and middle class. Prentice noticed that the Lunnar's front lawn was verging on over-grown and one of the windows maintained a large crack covered with clear tape.

Four weeks had passed since their son had gone missing. His body had been found sooner than any of the other boy's suggesting the unsub had grown tired of him sooner for some reason. The agents hoped to find out why.

Morgan knocked on the door. Though the Lunnar's had been alerted beforehand of their impending arrival, they waited a full minute before the door opened. Mrs. Lunnar, with her long, dark curly hair and flowing peasant dress, presented like a modern-day hippie. Mr. Lunnar stood behind her. He was dressed comfortably in jeans and cable knit sweater. His long, slightly graying hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail. The scent of incense was strong.

Mrs. Lunnar opened the door wider and offered a sad smile, "Please, come in." As the trio entered their home, she explained, "We were in the middle of cleansing our home of negative energy." Morgan and Prentice exchanged a skeptical glance.

As they were ushered into the living room Prentice asked, "How are you, Mr. and Mrs. Lunnar?"

"Gloria, please, and my husband is Tom. We're doing as well as can be expected, I suppose." Both agents noticed that Tom had not said a word. He seemed to be numbly following his wife around. Judging by the numbers of fertility goddess statues hidden amongst the stacks of dusty books, this was a matriarchal home. Noting Agent Morgan's apparent interest in her books, Gloria continued, "I'm a professor of English literature at the university. Tom teaches Medieval European history."

Morgan, wanting to get back to headquarters as soon as possible, got down to business. "We're interested in learning more about Cole." At the startled, quizzical looks he received from the parents, he clarified, "We think it'll help us better understand the person who did this, and help us catch him."

Though they understood, the parents still seemed hesitant to talk about their son. They acted almost embarrassed. Exchanging tentative glances, Tom began, "Cole was a . . . umm . . . that is, he could occasionally be, well, difficult. He was a good boy. Really. But he was strong-willed. He didn't take guff from anyone. Not even his teachers. In fact, when he was . . . taken, he was on school suspension for a week for, well, for throwing a book at a teacher."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to do it," continued Gloria. "It's just that sometimes he let his anger get the better of him."

Reassuringly, Prentice said, "We're not here to judge Cole, we'd just like to learn more about him. Would it be possible to see his room?"

"Of course," Gloria said, "it's this way." She led them to his small, appropriately messy room.

Once again, Morgan scanned the entire room, while Prentice and Detective Bains did a more thorough search of his computer desk. Skimming over the school papers, book and clothing scattered about the boy's room, Morgan's attention was caught by something jutting out of an official looking envelop. He picked it up to get a better look and found it to be a credit card bill in Cole's name. "Did you know Cole had a credit card?" he asked the parents.

"Yes. He was only allowed to use it if we approved the purchase first." Gloria answered. "We monitored it very closely, so he never misused it."

At Morgan's look of surprise Tom clarified, "My wife and I watch our students get into trouble with credit cards constantly. Last year we decided to start teaching Cole how to be responsible with money. He generally used it to buy new coins for his collection." He opened a drawer and brought out a metal lock box. Opening the box, he handed it to Morgan.

The agent sifted through the tiny envelopes. Each one was labeled with country, year and type. He opened one and poured the coin out. Tom continued, "This was about the only way we connected. We would talk for hours about the history of his coins." Morgan didn't miss the hitch in the man's voice. He replaced the coin and handed the box back to the father.

On Cole's desk Prentice found only two coin related items laid out. One was a brand new catalog that may have been looked through once. On top of this was a small flier nearly identical to the one they had seen on Joshua's desk. Looking closely, Prentice couldn't be certain, but she didn't think the URL was exactly the same as the last one she had found. The main offer itself was different too. This coin was the ECC Constantine Dynasty Mini Albun. Though ancient, it was not worth much. Joshua's had been for the $20 Liberty Head Gold Eagle; a far more valuable coin.

"Hey Morgan." Getting his attention, Prentice handed him the flier, "Take a look at this. There was one a lot like this on Joshua's desk too."

"Do you think it's connected?"

Prentice shrugged, "It's worth a shot."

Morgan didn't hesitate. He dialed Garcia's number, waiting only moments before the cheery answer, "What is it you desire from the techno-goddess?"

"Hey Babygirl. I need you to check out a website."

"Lay it on me, Sugar Lumps." Keying in the address as quickly as Morgan could say it, she quickly had his answer, "Nothing. Looks like it was shut down."

"Can you trace it?"

"Shouldn't be a problem. I'll call when I have something."

She was about to disconnect when Morgan added, "There's another address we think is connected. Can you call the Cutter's and ask them to give you the address in the coin flier on Joshua's desk?"

"No problem. Back with you soon, my love." And she was gone.

Prentice closed her phone shortly after Morgan and explained, "I asked JJ to contact as many of the victim's parents as possible to see if any of them had one of these." She indicated the flier. "She'll send any web addresses she manages to get to Garcia."

Turning back to the parents, Morgan asked with as little judgment as he could manage, "You said Cole was suspended from school? Do you know how he spent his days at home?"

The parents looked at each other. Was that guilt the agents detected? Again it was Gloria who answered, "We asked him to stay indoors and work on his homework, but he was never one for doing as he was told. If he wasn't sleeping when we left for work, he was generally on his computer. I-I'm sure he went out as soon as we were gone. He loved hanging out with the college kids on the campus and in the coffee shops."

Morgan had heard enough, and it was apparent Prentice had as well. She concluded their meeting with, "Mr. and Mrs. Lunnar, thank you for your time. May we contact you if we have further questions?"

"Yes, yes, please do," was Gloria's reply, though she clearly wanted this current meeting to conclude. She was escorting them out the door as quickly as possible.

XOXOXOXOXO

Hotch was lucky to find a parking spot close enough to see the exit he expected Reid to use when he finished. He had spent the last 45 minutes going back through the case files hoping to find anything new. He was having no luck, and he knew he should take a break. Even a short one would help. Carefully replacing everything in his briefcase, he left it in the backseat and stepped out of the vehicle.

He strolled around the old city center admiring the architecture and watching the large crowds of people. Though this was still a fairly dangerous part of town because of the many drug deals, it had been cleaned up and was considered one of the main tourist attractions in Seattle. Hotch watched as a large group passed him. They were enjoying the underground city tour. Most probably had no idea just how seedy this part of town still was.

Hotch glanced at his watch. Reid should be finished any minute. He slowly started heading back toward the NA meeting building. Nearing the door he was distracted by a loud interaction between a mother and her young son. She was gripping him by the wrist and yelling at him as he cried. "Why don't you ever listen? I told you not to get dirty, and look at you! Why don't you love me? Huh? You do this because you hate me! I don't know why I even bother! I should have left you at the hospital when you were born!" The child was sobbing and the mother was clearly out of control. Hotch considered intervening, but sadly without evidence of physical abuse there was little he could do that would make this little boy's life any better. If he said anything to her, she would most likely take it out on the child when they were alone. Once again he wondered why there were no laws protecting children from this kind of emotional abuse.

Reid quietly stepped up behind his boss, "Borderline Personality Disorder." As Hotch turned to the young agent, he continued, "Probably the worst kind of parent a child could have. 75% of Borderlines are women and nearly all have children at a very young age."

Both men turned back to see the woman hustling the crying child onto a city bus. Hotch resignedly said, "Hope she gets some help – for the boy's sake."

Reid nodded his head, but something about this scene had made something click. Hotch recognized that look, "Reid? What is it?"

As the light bulb fully ignited, so did Reid's face, "Hotch! That's it! The unsub! He's a she!"

Hotch was quick, but he didn't quite follow, "Wait, Reid, slow down. Explain."

Just as excitedly, but with more care, the young agent continued, "We've been profiling her as a man because generally men abduct older children like these and because of the evidence of sexual abuse, but what if something happened to her own child and she's abducting these children to replace him? Borderlines seek constant reassurance that they are unconditionally loved. That's the purpose their children serve for them. And we tend to forget that women can be sexual perpetrators too."

As Reid talked, Hotch had guided them back to the vehicle. As they entered, Hotch grabbed his cell and dialed Garcia. When she answered, he didn't give her time to say a word, "Garcia. Reid thinks our unsub might be a woman suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder. I need you to put together a list of women in the Pacific Northwest who have lost a male child in the last year and have been treated for BPD. We're headed back to headquarters now. We'll call when we get the rest of the team assembled."

Garcia thought the search criteria sounded too broad, but she wasn't about to argue with the boss, "Yes, sir. I'll have the list ready for you."

Throwing on his seatbelt, and surreptitiously checking to make sure the distractible Reid did as well, Hotch pulled into traffic.

XOXOXOXOXO

When Rossi arrived at police headquarters, JJ was busy on the phone. He picked up that she was asking one of the parents for some information, but it didn't seem to be going well. When she hung up, she filled in the senior agent about her quest for URL addresses. She wasn't having much luck.

Rossi turned his attention to the evidence board. JJ had filled it in with the bits and pieces the rest of the team had sent in so far. His brow furrowed. This unsub just wasn't fitting into any mold he could come up with. Rossi couldn't get past the fact that sex offenders who are strangers to the children almost never torture or beat the children. He turned as he heard Hotch and Reid enter.

Hotch marched into the room followed closely by Reid. "We may have something. Where are Morgan and Prentice?" Hotch asked.

"Right here." Came the startling reply from Morgan standing in the doorway. As he and Prentice entered, he said, "We think there's a connection between the boys. They all received a coin offer in the mail. I have Garcia checking out the websites from the fliers." Without a pause, he contacted the technician via webcam. "Hey Darlin', what did you find out?"

"In a word? Nothing. Whoever this unsub is, she's good . . ."

Prentice's brow knit in confusion, "Wait, Garcia, did you say 'she'?"

"Yeah. Our super-genius has a theory. But let me finish with the technical skills first. She used a different IP address for each of these sites, and I'm guessing if there are more, she did the same there. They all belong to public libraries. No way to track her through these channels."

"What about the list I asked you to compile?" Hotch reminded her.

"Right. Women who've lost a child? About 1300. Cross referenced with those being treated for BPD? We're down to 24."

"How many of the children were male?" Hotch asked.

"Ummm . . . 14." The technician answered after a few quick key strokes.

"And how many of those were between the ages of 10 and 15 at the time of death?" Hotch persisted.

"Takes us down to 8."

"Good. Send that list over, please, Garcia."

Turning to Reid, Morgan concluded, "So, you're thinking that the bruising on these boys is accounted for by an out-of-control, sexually deviant Borderline?"

Suddenly feeling the spotlight, the young agent became insecure, "I don't know. Maybe." He nervously played with his hands as he continued. "Cole's bruises were substantially greater than those of the other boys'. What did you find out about him?"

Prentice answered, "He was a strong-willed child who didn't respond well to discipline. His parents didn't seem to know what to do with him and had all but given up."

Rossi deliberated, "A frustrated Borderline confronted by a child . . . a person who she feels should be grateful for her caring attention . . . would react violently. Cole's independent personality could explain why she killed him so soon after abducting him."

"Maybe if his parents had taught him some manners, he'd still be alive today," Morgan said half-jokingly.

"Come on, Morgan. They were doing their best." Prentice came to their defense, "They were even trying to teach him how to be responsible with credit."

"Yeah," Morgan scoffed, "Who ever heard of letting a kid have a credit card?"

"Wait!" came a startled reply from the computer screen, "The kid had a credit card?"

"Yeah, he did." Morgan answered.

Refusing to be distracted, Hotch was all business, "Do you have something, Garcia?"

A bit nervously, she answered, "It's just something Reid was saying the other day about credit card purchases."

All eyes returned to Reid, but he looked mystified by the tech's words.

Garcia explained, "Remember? You said that direct marketing companies use credit card purchases to profile buyers and then sell those names to catalogs that best fit their profiles."

"Yeah, yeah! That's brilliant, Garcia!" was Reid's excited reply, "If she used a direct marketing company to narrow down her victim pool, we might be able to find her through one of them. I don't think there are more than three or four companies in the U.S. that specialize in this. It wouldn't be hard to track her down if she used one."

"I'm on it!" Garcia, didn't wait for orders before signing off. She was on a mission.

"Right, the rest of you split up the eight names we have. Let's find out as much as we can on each of them. Look for employment records involving technical computer skills. We also profiled that she might travel for work. Look for that as well. Reid, you're with me. I want you to help me deliver the profile to the area police departments." Hotch and Reid went off in search of teleconferencing facilities.

XOXOXOXOXO

An hour later the team gathered again. As Hotch and Reid entered the room, the older agent asked, "Did anyone find anything on any of the names?"

"We narrowed it down to two possibles," Rossi answered.

Laying an 8X10 mug shot in the middle of the table, Prentice continued, "Amy Caslin, 31, a computer technician for an advertising firm in Tacoma. Currently unemployed but apparently has some means of funding herself as she refused unemployment and continues to live alone. She's been treated for BPD since she was 19, which incidentally was the year after her child was born. He died under mysterious circumstances last year, but the authorities weren't able to find any evidence to prosecute her. She claimed he was playing in his tree house, fell out and his throat was caught by a rope on the way down. Problem was there were no ligature marks to indicate a rope, only bruising. The only hospital visit he had was for a broken arm when he was 8, but post-mortem x-rays suggested several fractures in different stages of healing throughout his body."

Morgan produced his own picture of a different woman, "Jennifer Engene. 29. She's a programmer for a large electrical engineering firm with offices all over the Pacific Northwest and California. She had her son when she was 17 and has been treated for BPD since she was 25 when she was convicted of child abuse. It took her five years of therapy and a judge's consent to get him back. Her live-in boyfriend was imprisoned for the boy's death a year later, but he continues to appeal it."

"They both sound probable." Reid said, "Do we check them both out?"

Hotch delayed them with, "Let's see what Garcia was able to dig up first."

He had already called her up on the screen, so she took her cue, "I started with the largest direct marketing company first. They didn't want to give up their trade secrets at first, but once they understood the situation, they were actually quite helpful. After searching their small business department for likely candidates, they narrowed it down to coin offers and then to those looking for children in the household. Only one name came to the top. Amy Caslin."

"That's her." Prentice concluded, "I have her address right here. We can be there in less than an hour."

". . . That's not all," Garcia announced, "It looks like she's focusing on a small town close to Tacoma this time. Port Orchard. She only buys one name and address at a time from this direct marketing company, which is extremely odd, but she always pays her bills, so they indulge her."

Hotch leaped into action, "Prentice, call the Tacoma P.D. Have them go to her house and bring her in for questioning if she's there. They need to let us know right away if they don't find her. Garcia, what's the address the marketing company sold her?"

"I've sent it to all of your phones along with the phone number and directions."

"Good work, Garcia!" Hotch continued, "J.J., call the family, make sure their children are safe, and find out if any of them collect coins and if they've received a flyer recently."

J.J. nodded and immediately walked away to make the call.

Prentice returned from making her call and reported, "The police are on their way to her house now."

"Hotch." J.J.'s voice sounded strained, "No one's answering at the house in Port Orchard. Do you want me to call the local authorities?"

"Yes, but tell them to look for an old camper in the area. If they find it, they need to call it in, but not approach. Have them station an unmarked car outside the house. They should only make contact if any boys leave the house alone. Otherwise, they need to wait until we arrive." Spotting the man he wanted to talk with in the hall, Hotch called out, "Agent Nevin." As he walked in to join the BAU team, Hotch asked, "What's the fastest way to a town called Port Orchard?"

The agent thought for a moment before answering, "You can take a ferry over to Bremerton then drive around to Port Orchard, but this time of evening there's not much traffic. Driving around through Tacoma would be faster."

Making an immediate decision, Hotch declared, "By the time we get to Tacoma, we should have heard something from the local PD. If they're not able to find her, we'll go on to Port Orchard. She's due for her next abduction any time. Let's go."

As one, the BAU team headed for the large, black Suburban set aside for them. By the time they reached Tacoma, they had been alerted of the failure to find the unsub at home. Meeting up with a patrol car, Reid and J.J. were escorted to the woman's house to search for more clues. As planned, the remainder of the team continued on to the small town just north of them. The reports from the locals were regarding finding an empty house. As Garcia now had a license plate number connected with their unsub, Prentice asked the local PD to be looking for this vehicle.

Arriving at the Port Orchard address 30 minutes later, they found another large McMansion. The lights were off and no one answered the door. Morgan looked at his watch, "It's 10:20 on a Monday night. Where is everyone?"

As if on cue headlights turned into the long driveway. The BMW stopped, and leaving the engine running, a man stepped out of the driver's side. "What's going on here?" He demanded.

Flashing his badge, Hotch told the man they were worried about his son. The man's wife, looking concerned, stepped out of the passenger's side.

"We believe a suspect may be targeting your son, Ma'am," Prentice called out.

Both parents hurried to the front door to let the agents in. The mother, finding the house quiet, ran up the staircase and disappeared. Morgan moved to follow her, but Hotch stopped him, realizing that if the boy was not there they would know about it soon enough.

Frantically, the mother returned to the top of the stairs, "He's not here! Where could he have gone?"

Instinctively knowing their roles, Prentice went to the mother to calm her down and extract information from her. Rossi did the same with the father. Morgan immediately called the local PD to get an update on their search for the camper before he started searching the house for clues, and Hotch checked in with JJ and Reid.

"Have you found anything, Reid?" Hotch asked into his cell.

"Yeah, Hotch, she's definitely attracted to children. We found boxes of child porn mixed in with photos of her own child in . . . a . . . compromising positions. Garcia's looking at her computer now. Also, it looks like she's been earning money as a sort of underground distributer of collectable coins. Her agenda indicates she has a meeting with a coin shop on Jackson Boulevard tomorrow morning." He pulled up a topographical map on his laptop, "There's a large community park nearby surrounded with trees. It would be easy to hide a large vehicle in there overnight."

"Good work, Reid. Keep digging." He hung up the phone and turned to find Prentice entering the room.

Handing him a familiar looking flyer, she grimly said, "Hotch, this was sitting next to the boy's computer."

"Stay with the family. See what else you can turn up." As he watched her return to the mother, he called out, "Morgan! Reid thinks she might be hiding out in a park. Come on." Both men bolted out the door to the waiting Suburban.

Plugging the coordinates of the park into the GPS, they found it was only 5 minutes away. Morgan got them there as quickly as possible.

Reid was right. It was a large park. There was one main road in but it was completely surrounded by thick woods. Morgan flicked off the headlights and slowed the vehicle to a crawl. "If she's here, we'll find her." The younger agent said as much to reassure himself as anyone.

They continued to drive further into the seemingly deserted park. The road was beginning to narrow and appeared to be about to end when Hotch spotted something out of place, "There!" He pointed off to the right, "about 20 yards in."

Beside him, Morgan squinted into the darkness. He couldn't be certain, but whatever it was looked to be about the size of a camper. He cut the engine and both agents exited. Weapons drawn, they quietly approached. Without saying a word, Morgan pointed out the fresh, off-road tire tracks in the mud. Hotch acknowledged his find with a nod. Unconsciously, both men increased their efforts at stealth.

Reaching the structure, they found it was indeed an old camper. Looking at the plates, Hotch confirmed they were approaching the correct vehicle. Morgan reached up to the door handle, glanced at his colleague to verify he was ready, and then jerked the door open. Aiming both his flashlight and gun inside, they found their unsub, clearly having been asleep, startled and sitting up in bed. Keeping their weapons trained on the disheveled woman, Morgan ordered, "Hands up! Keep them up!"

Hotch bolted inside to search for the missing boy. Morgan followed quickly behind to take the suspect into custody. Hotch flung the thin curtain back from the upper bunk and found a set of frightened eyes staring back at him. The boy had been gagged and bound. As quickly and gently as possible, Hotch freed the boy and comforted him as well as he could.

Morgan had already escorted the woman into the backseat of their vehicle and was waiting patiently for his boss to bring the boy out. Hotch drove them back to the boy's home, leaving Morgan to guard their unsub in the backseat.

The local police department was waiting for them there. Having taken the parents' statements, they allowed the boy to be released to them while taking the suspect to their holding cells for the evening. Federal agents from the Seattle office would take her into custody tomorrow morning.

XOXOXOXO

Hotch scanned the jet, looking over his sleeping team with stoic pride. The long flight back to D.C. was quiet. Everyone was exhausted from the long day and only a few short hours of sleep, but Hotch had insisted on leaving as early as possible Tuesday morning. He wanted everyone to have some time to decompress at home before returning to work Wednesday.

Hotch also wanted to have the time to check in with Reid once they returned home. They needed to start working on his triggers and create an escape plan should his triggers become too overwhelming.

He glanced over at his youngest agent as he felt the jet begin its descent. He had his long body curled up over two seats, his arms wrapped tightly around him. On the floor below him, Hotch watch as Reid's battered messenger bag flopped over from the gravitational differences brought on by the jet's new angle. His eyes narrowed as a small vile rolled out of the bag. He reached out to grab it before it rolled under a seat. There was no doubt in his mind what this vile contained. Hotch felt an immediate stab of disappointment, followed quickly by anger.

Hovering over Reid, he grabbed the young man's shoulder and firmly shook him. Before Reid could fully comprehend what was happening, Hotch held out the small vile in his palm and sternly asked, "What is this, Reid?"

Sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, he registered the ire in Hotch's tone, but he had no idea what he had done wrong. He looked up in confusion at his boss' grim visage and blinked stupidly before slowly dropping his eyes to Hotch's outstretched hand.

Hotch watched as the color drained from the young man's face. This told him more than anything else what he needed to know.

"H-Hotch, I . . . " Reid apprehensively lifted his eyes back up to Hotch's face. The displeasure he saw there utterly silenced him.

The End (story to be continued under a new title)!

XOXOXOXO

So, for the first time I feel like I could really have used a beta reader. There's just so much information to keep straight and convey at the proper times, I kept getting lost. Please consider this a first draft. I'm sure there're holes in the story. I'm open to your thoughts about this, but please be nice. Perhaps someday I'll publish a revised version.

In any case I hope you enjoyed, and you know I love to hear from you. If you review and leave a response link, I will write back. Thank you for reading!