Hey everyone! I wanted to get this chapter up because this will be like the last chapter before anything super exciting begins so enjoy reading and please review! And once again, if you have any ideas that you want me to try and add in future chapters, ask me now so I have time to think it through
Markus turned up the radio as he swung the car around the corner. There were three police cars sitting outside of Zach's residence, but that was to be expected. The murders were getting a lot more media attention since the BAU had showed up, and it was going to be more difficult to sneak the bodies around. Markus had no doubt that Harold was going to know what to do. Harold had predicted that it was only a matter of time before the FBI was going to get involved, and he knew that the police would be waiting outside of the "guests" homes. Markus pulled the car to the side of the road, and started dialing on one of the disposable cell phones that Harold had given him earlier.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I think my wife is having a stroke. Please come right away. I don't know what to do. I'm located at 35th Ave and Sunrise. Please hurry." With that, Markus hung up the phone and tossed it out the window. Fingerprints wouldn't be a problem because Harold had ordered him to always wear gloves while driving. It would keep the steering wheel clean. Markus watched the three police cars speed away, and he smiled. The cross streets that he gave the operator were only 10 minutes away. Harold knew that they would send the closest officers to help the dying woman, and that would give Markus enough time to get rid of the body.
Markus pulled the car up to the front of the house, and popped the trunk. He was getting too old for all of this, and a little voice in the back of his head told him that he should be charging more for this kind of work. He stretched his legs as he got out of the car, and walked around to the trunk. He didn't have a lot of time. The sun was high in the sky, and the neighbors would notice him soon enough. He lifted the body of the trunk, and walked it to the front door. Harold didn't like clutter in the house or this messy job would be done at nightfall. Markus was sure that he was already preparing for another guest. Markus dropped the body at the door step, and hurried back to the air conditioned car. He drove off without ever seeing the police cars drive back to Zach's house. They were probably still trying to figure out which house had made the desperate plea to save a woman from a stroke.
He took his time driving back to the large house. He ignored the police sirens growing louder behind him, and he tried to focus on the duties for the rest of his day. Harold told him that he would be out for most of the day, and that probably meant that he would be famished by dinner time. Markus was hired by Harold's parents soon after Harold's brother had died. His parents had chosen to move away, and they left Harold their house as a going away present. Harold was allowed to hire as many servants as he thought he needed, but his parents picked out Markus in particular. His uncle was working with Harold's parents until his death, and Markus was sure that his uncle was the only reason that he got the job with Harold. Markus had no special training or education that would put him above the others that applied for the job. All he had was an old uncle that stayed loyal to Harold's family until his death.
Harold had sat outside all morning to wait out the arrival of the FBI. He was curious to see which agents had been sent out, but it was taking forever. It was an extremely hot day¸ and patiently waiting for an event to happen was never one of Harold's strong points. Whenever he wanted something, he usually got it immediately. That was one of the many pleasures of having rich parents. He never had to wait for anything. The first set of what he guessed was FBI agents arrived hours ago, and they did nothing to spark his imagination. One was an older man who was talking on the phone as he walked inside the police station. The other was a woman who seemed about Harold's age. She had black hair with bangs, and she stayed close by the other agent. Neither one of them had noticed Harold sitting across the street. He found it strange that two profilers couldn't take the time to look around them. Markus had probably already taken the first guest home, but Harold wasn't going to leave until he saw what he was up against. The police could barely keep the public under control, and he knew that they were no threat to him. He wanted a challenge, something that would him active. That was one of the reasons why he loved classical music above all other forms of entertainment in the world. Classical music was good for the brain, and he liked to keep his brain alive and well. When he was younger, he used to turn the music up loud for the plants in his bedroom. The flowers always did much better when he had the music on. He turned the music up in the vehicle, and rolled down the window to let the sweet smells of summer fill his nostrils. He closed his eyes to better enjoy the music, and laid his head back down while he waited for another car to pull up.
Hotch and Morgan didn't have much luck in the morgue. The two bodies that were still there were perfectly described by the police. There were no saliva samples or random pieces of hair from the unsub left behind. No organs were missing from the bodies, and they were delivered to their homes wearing the clothes that they went missing in. The mortician found it odd that the bodies were relatively clean as well. Their hair had been brushed, and it looked like their faces had been washed.
"Ok, so our guy tortures his victims, rapes his victims, kills his victims, and then washes them? That doesn't make sense," Morgan said as he pulled up to the police station.
"He just washes their faces, not the rest of them. Dried blood was all over their clothes, and on their bodies," Hotch replied. He got out of the car before Morgan even had the engine off. Morgan wrapped around the car, and was at Hotch's side in seconds.
"Ok, so after he kills them, maybe he feels some kind of remorse which explains why he washes their faces and drops off the bodies."
"I don't think he has remorse though. He keeps the victims alive for days. If he felt sorry for what he was doing, he would have stopped around the third day at least. The victims would still be alive, and he could drop them off where he found them," Hotch said.
"Maybe he is just afraid of getting caught?" Morgan opened the door, and followed Hotch inside.
"If he was afraid of getting caught, he wouldn't kidnap people in the middle of the day in parking lots. There must be another reason for the washing of their faces. He clearly suffers from narcissistic disorder which explains his self confidence. He doesn't think that he can get caught unless it's under his own terms." Hotch presented his badge to the officers sitting at the front desk, and walked towards the sound of Rossi's voice in the back.
"So a sexual sadist psychopath is the unsub? Wait till Garcia hears about this. You can be the one to explain that guy to her. Why does he rape them? Is it more of a form of domination over the victims or is it just about the sex?" Morgan sat down next to Prentiss. Nothing about this guy as normal. His victims seemed random, the torture seemed almost too extreme, and they still had no idea why he washed the faces of his victims.
"Maybe this isn't about domination. The torture of the act of rape could be the only way that this guy can satisfy himself. He might be choosing people based on their physical appearance, what attracts to him. I've been going over the photos, and all of the victims have clean skin, shiny hair, and an overall attractive look. All of the men were clean shaven, and the women knew how to dress well," Rossi said.
"Ok, so who are we looking for? A male unsub between the ages of 30 and 50? He probably lives around here, and he knows this town well," Prentiss concluded. Morgan watched her stand up to look over the victims again while the others nodded in a silent agreement. It was getting hotter outside, and Morgan cursed at the police station for having such a weak air conditioning system. He went over to open the window, and saw J.J. and Reid just getting out of their car.
"You're not opening that window Morgan," Prentiss threatened.
"It's hotter than hell in here! We need to let some fresh air in." Morgan looked back out the window, and saw that his teammates were already inside.
"You'll just let the hot air in here, and then it will be hotter than ever. Just get some water, and sit down or something. You're making me nervous standing over there like that."
Morgan pulled a chair out, and sat next to her. He picked up a folder to fan himself with, and ignored the deadly gaze that Prentiss was giving him. It was just too hot to deal with any of this right now. He looked up when J.J. walked in with Reid trailing behind her. She had put her hair up in a ponytail, but Morgan could still see sweat glistening on her forward.
"It's just too hot here guys," J.J. said as she sat down next to Rossi. Reid stood in the corner next the door while Hotch stood in front of the table. Rossi handed a water bottle to J.J. while Morgan laid his head down on the desk.
"Try to concentrate everybody. The sooner we get a profile, the sooner we can catch this guy. I believe our unsub is going to keep killing until he gets caught. His narcissistic personality gives him the confidence to keep doing what he is doing, and I believe he is intelligent. He keeps his victims alive for days, and that would imply that he has someplace large to keep them. He either keeps them in a warehouse of some kind, a basement, or even some kind of shed to keep them hidden from the public. Prentiss was right about the age. We are looking for someone in their 30s to 50s who would have the skills to be able to kidnap people without drawing attention," Hotch concluded.
"Reid and I also think he might have some kind of money. We found this outside," J.J. said passing the bracelet around. "It belonged to Samantha, and it is worth quite a bit of money. It looks like it was ripped off her during a struggle."
"At least she tried to fight back," Rossi commented. Morgan lifted his head up off the table, and looked down at the jewelry. Morgan would never tell the others, but any hope for her survival died when he saw her bracelet. Samantha had just been missing for too long, and Morgan had seen the conditions that the other bodies were in. It just wasn't pretty.
"Excuse me, agents?" An older policeman stuck his face through the doorway. He didn't seem to mind that the air conditioner was barely working, and Morgan just felt like punching the officer so they could be miserable together. "Another body was just delivered…"
"What?" J.J snapped. "Didn't you have officers waiting at the house? How could they not see a suspicion person dropping off a body at the front door?"
All of the agents started gathering their stuff, and Morgan stretched out his legs. He was excited that something was finally going to happen which was going to take him away from the cooking oven. He thought he was going to die in there.
"The officers were away for just a moment. They got a call from just down the street. A woman was having a heart attack, and her husband had called for helped," the officer quietly said.
"Did you save the woman?" Rossi asked.
"We never found her. The caller didn't give an exact address, and we weren't able to trace the call to anyone's house."
"You guys were tricked," Morgan said. "That was probably the unsub luring you away from the house so he could get rid of the body."
"Whose body was it?" Prentiss asked. Morgan noticed that she was also slowly putting her hair into a ponytail. She was just as hot as he was, and he smiled. The stoned faced Prentiss was human after all.
"It was the first victim to go missing, Zach. There's a long slash down the center of his chest, and he was sexually assaulted more than once. He hasn't really been examined yet, but it's bad."
"Ok, Morgan, you and Reid need to go to the home address of the next victim. Prentiss and Rossi, go look at the body. I'll go with J.J. to the work address of the victim. We have to assume that he is already dead. It's already late in the day, and if the unsub follow his routine, he's going to be dropping off the next victim any time now. We're not going to miss him this time. No police cars," Hotch said looking at the officer. "If anyone sees anything suspicious, call for backup. I don't want of us dealing with him alone, and stay together," Hotch said.
Reid felt all eyes go on him as Hotch finished his speech. He felt himself start to blush, but it went away when everyone started to leave. He stared at his feet while the others walked by him.
"Hey kid," Morgan said putting his strong hand over Reid's shoulder. Reid looked up at him, and looked at Morgan's concerned face. "Hotch asked me to do something for you."
"What?" Reid's mind was buzzing with possibilities.
"Hotch wants me to hold your hand before we cross the street," Morgan said with smile. Reid pushed him out of the way, and walked back outside. "Look both ways before you step onto the street!" Morgan called out. Reid hated Morgan when he acted like this. He could still hear Morgan laughing as Reid walked out to the car. Reid didn't really want to be sitting in a car with him on one of the hottest days of the year to wait for a corpse to show up. Reid pulled the hair out of his face, and tried to ignore Morgan when he came up to the car laughing.
"Can't you take a joke kid?" Morgan unlocked the car, and they got inside. "Come on Reid, it's hot. Cut me a break, will you?" Reid put the air conditioner on high to dry some of the sweat off his forehead, and dug in his bag to get the files out from the case. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Morgan pulling out his cell phone from his pocket.
"Did you know that 80% of all drivers who are involved in deadly car accidents were distracted while driving such as checking their text messages?" Reid smiled when he heard Morgan sighing. Now, they were even.
"Ok, kid. Whatever. I'm calling Garcia unless you know the address of this Clayton guy somewhere in your genius brain?" Reid shook his head, and started to fan himself with the files. It really was way too hot outside, and all he wanted to do sleep. He knew that he could blame the heat on his growing exhaustion, but he tried to keep the little fans blowing in his face. If he kept himself cooler, the deadly sun outside wouldn't be able to affect him so much.
"Hey, sweetie cheeks," Morgan said smiling. Reid envied how easily talking to women came to Morgan. Reid always stumbled around with his words, and he could not control his clumsy feet whenever a woman came around him. Maybe, if they ever got a day off, Morgan could give him some more pointers about talking with women. Reid knew that he needed help.
"What's up sugar pie? How's my dark knight doing on this fabulous day in Garcia-ville?" Her preppy voice filled the car when Morgan put her on speaker.
"Careful Garcia. Got you on speaker here, and Reid is in the car so try to make it PG-13. I'm going to need you to look up an address for me."
"Addresses are my specialty, among other things…I just need a name from the sweet lips of Mr. Derek Morgan," she said.
"Clayton Morris. I just need his home address. I'm going to have a sleepover there tonight with Reid. Wish you could join us baby doll. I have a strong feeling that Reid is going to statistic me to death," Morgan said.
"Hey!" Reid hated when they talked about him as if he weren't even there. He thought the others might have treated him differently after he survived being with a dangerous unsub for over two days, but they seemed to baby him more than ever.
"Sorry Reid," Garcia said. "I'll send the address to your phone Morgan. Should be there in less than one minute and counting."
Morgan pulled over to get the address, and rolled down one of the windows. Reid didn't mind the window being down. He liked getting the fresh air in his face, and the air conditioner was doing a horrible job of keeping him cool. He was already sweating again. Morgan started the car, and pulled up in front of a single story house just two minutes away.
"Ok, Reid, truth or dare?" Morgan pulled a piece of beef jerky out of the bag, and stared at Reid while waiting for an answer. This was going to be a long night.
Harold had watched all of the FBI agents gather in the police station, and he watched them all go their separate ways less than an hour later. He was interested to see how they always traveled in pairs, and he was curious to see where all of them went. He knew that at least one of the teams was going to his last guest's house. He was about to head back home when he saw the last team walk to their car. A younger man, in his 20s, stood by the black SUV staring at his feet while his darker partner went to the driver's side of the car. It wouldn't take a profiler to know that one had just made a joke at the other's expense, but this had caught Harold's interest. The boy with the pretty brown hair reminded him of someone, and it took most of his will power to look away as the black vehicle drove down the road. Harold started his car, and started trailing the FBI team at a safe distance. When they stopped in front of Clayton's house, Harold pulled over and pulled out his cell phone.
"Hello Markus. I'm going to ask you to clean up the guest's room. I think I found us some company for dinner."
"How many should I prepare for sir?"
"Well, there will be me, of course, as well as two others. They seem that they will provide me with interesting conversation. I wonder if they will prefer white wine or red wine…I've always liked red wine better myself. Oh, and please pull out my favorite Mozart music. I would love it if my guests were allowed to dine hearing one of the world's greatest composers."
"Should I still drop Clayton off as planned?"
"I will be home shortly with my new friends. I will give you further instructions once I get there. I do have a dreadful feeling in my stomach that one of my guests might be more problems than he is really worth," Harold said staring at the darker man in the driver's seat.
"Then why not just bring one home?"
"That is just the thing Markus. They choose to work as a team, drive as a team, and so they will come home with me as a team," Harold quietly said. He ran his tongue across his top lip as he eyed the younger agent in the passenger seat. "I might need your help with one of them, but believe me, this will all be worth in it the end."
"Yes sir. I will await your arrival."
Harold put his cell phone back in his pocket, and turned the music's volume up. The sun would be going down soon, and he had to keep himself attentive. He had to give his best side to his guests, but he had to patient with them. The heat would soon be working its magic on these agents who were not from this town. The heat would make them tired, and he had to be there for them when he was needed. He usually spent more time learning about his guests, before inviting them into his home, but something was different about these guests. The younger one sparked something up in his brain, and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that night without making his acquaintance. It would only be a matter of time before their first meeting.