Chapter 3: Stand In the Rain
The next day near Cumberland, Maryland
Her feet and legs dangling from the back of the Escalade, Guerin lay flat staring at nothing and thinking about next to nothing. Tergensen kicked her foot as she walked by on the way to the table with the stove and coffee maker.
"Bitch," Guerin said without bothering to move.
Tergensen turned the flame off under the Coleman coffee maker and poured the fresh brew into a large carafe. Taking an enamel mug she poured herself a cup, added cream and sugar, then went to the tailgate of the big SUV.
Putting one knee between Guerin's thighs, she leaned over the other woman. "What are you so smug about now?" Guerin looked up at her.
Tergensen smiled looking out through the front windshield of the Escalade. "Your friends are here," she patted Guerin on her stomach and then on her crotch.
Sitting up, Guerin pushed her away. She didn't need to ask 'who' Tergensen meant by friends. "Get lost, Dev," Guerin was saying as Prentiss, Reid and another man came around the back of the SUV. "Go show that cute chick from SWAT how big yer gun is or something."
Prentiss eyed Tergensen with barely restrained hostility. "Hope you got something bigger than that 40 cal," she looked past Tergensen at the group of emergency task force members standing near the center of the big barn. "She's got an MP5."
Guerin looked from Prentiss to Reid, moving over so the latter could sit beside her, then turning her attention to the other FBI agent. "This is Derek Morgan," Reid introduced the muscular black man with the shaved head. "He works with us."
Morgan extended a hand showing no surprise when Guerin shook with her left. "I've heard a lot about you," he smiled with genuine warmth.
"Yeah, like all the way here," Prentiss looked from Reid to the coffee carafe. "Want one Reid?"
While Prentiss and Morgan poured coffee, Guerin looked at the young man beside her. He seemed both curious and excited. "Are you seeing the world differently?" she asked him softly.
"Yes... well kind of," Reid looked at her intently. "I'd like to…"
"Not the time or the place, dude, maybe later," Guerin nudged his knee with hers. "So, what are you guys doing here?" she looked directly at Prentiss. "Stalking me?"
"Your colleague," Morgan answered nodding at Tergensen, "gave us a heads up this raid might have something to do with our missing women case."
"Maybe some of the live ones are on their list," Tergensen provided.
Guerin glared at her for a long moment before turning her attention to Morgan and Prentiss. The two FBI agents had made themselves comfortable in camp chairs, Prentiss pointedly ignoring Tergensen.
"What she means to say," Guerin said, "is we believe they are holding several women in the farm house that they planned to use as partial payment for the shipment from Europe."
"The ones he didn't kill then," Reid said. When Guerin just nodded he continued. "You were right about that place yesterday, by the way. Our analyst was able to find a connection to Bennett through his grandmother. We think he owns the property though nothing's in his name."
"They located four bodies yesterday," Prentiss stated showing no emotion and seemingly no concern. Guerin eyed her sitting with her knees apart one hand draped over the arm of the camp chair all loose and relaxed. She was wearing her Kevlar vest – all three of them were – with a windbreaker, dark cargo pants and combat boots.
The girl is distracting if nothing else, Guerin thought looking away. She heard Tergensen laugh and looked around in time to see her walking away.
Prentiss was watching as well. "What flag is she flying today?" she asked.
"Fuck if I know," Guerin hopped off the tailgate and reached inside for her gear.
"She doesn't let her subordinates know the details?"
Guerin noticed agent Morgan was watching Prentiss closely. She strapped on her own body armour, attached her holstered sidearm to her belt, and pulled on her rain jacket before answering.
"Actually, she works for me," she didn't wait to see the response from the FBI agents as she started toward the side door of the barn. "I gotta pee."
Guerin was pulling up her pants when Reid appeared in front of her. "Dude, seriously," she said struggling to tuck in her heavy shirt with the weight of the 9mm Browning dragging down her pants.
When he said nothing, she gestured him toward the sheltered overhang of the barn. "At least let's not stand in the rain. Tell me what you need to say."
"It would be nice if the weather would break," Reid said looking up at the grey sky. When he looked back at Guerin his eyes were troubled.
Guerin sighed. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you or do you want me to find out?"
"My mother is brilliant," he started slowly, "and she's schizophrenic. I'm wondering if I'm…"
"…going to be like her?"
Reid just grimaced, his mouth a tight line.
Guerin looked away for a moment then back at Reid. "Doctor Robichaud and I have done some work, if you will, with people with all sorts of mental problems and I can safely tell you that your mind is nothing like any crazy person I encountered."
"What is my mind like?" Reid asked tentatively.
Guerin met his eyes reaching out to just brush the edges of his consciousness with hers. "You're like no one I've ever met before," she began. "There's so much going on in your head; it's almost mathematical. Evaluating, assessing, comparing – I can't follow you. I'm more about emotions, not pure mechanics."
Reid looked away and she could tell he was not satisfied with her response.
"You don't want to know about the emotional part?"
Reid crossed his arms on his chest. "I've never really bothered with that."
Guerin thought for a moment before speaking. "You've never really had a relationship, have you?" she finally said. Reid just looked at her surprised and somewhat off balance. "You surprised me yesterday the way you seized on me. It makes me think you've never really been close to anyone in that way before."
"It's not supposed to be like that?"
Guerin tapped the rough barn shingles with her knuckles trying to come up with a way to say what needed to be said without crushing the man in front of her.
"It can be like that, it can be exactly like that when I want it to be, but that wasn't my intention with you. I know what you're feeling and I know I'm to blame because I misjudged you." She looked at him, could feel he was reaching for her and resisted. "I like girls, dude. Like, really like girls. I can't be that way with you and I'm sorry if you thought I might."
"I've never felt anything like that before," Reid said softly, honestly, "that closeness. I never thought I wanted to."
Guerin took a step closer to him put a hand on his shoulder. "You can feel that way with someone and I don't mean what I do. When you find someone you really care about you'll know." She walked away from him back toward the barn door.
Later
Guerin was crouched behind a large maple tree when Prentiss found her. "They go in yet?"
"Yeah, just did."
Prentiss leaned in close looking over Guerin's shoulder at the farm house about 25 yards away across a barren lawn. Guerin could feel the warmth of her body only inches away. Sounds of shouting floated to them from the house along with what sounded like doors banging.
"So that guy they were waiting for finally came back?" Prentiss backed off just a bit her hand on the tree just over Guerin's shoulder.
"Yeah, he's the body disposal guy. Tergensen calls him Bennett's 2IC," she pronounced it 'two eye cee' for second in command. She looked over her shoulder at the woman behind and beside her.
Prentiss met her eye. "What's your part in this anyway," she asked.
Besides admiring you in yer Kevlar and combat boots? I have no idea…
"They needed me to get an idea of how many people were in the house and where; especially where the women are if they are hidden, which they are."
Prentiss seemed about to say something when Tergensen's voice spoke in Guerin's ear piece: "If you and Prentiss are done making out behind the tree, meet me at the side door."
"Bitch wants us at the house," Guerin said standing up and stretching.
"Yeah, I heard," the FBI agent started off ahead across the lawn.
The side door opened into a large mud room that appeared to be used mostly for storage judging by the amount of junk in it.
"When's A&E gonna come do their "Hoarders" episode?" Guerin asked not expecting an answer.
"In here," Tergensen called through the door from the kitchen.
Tergensen was alone in the massive room standing near an ancient wood and oil burning stove that was churning out an intense heat. Guerin took off her rain jacket tossed it over a chair. "Did they find them?"
"No…" Tergensen drew out the word derisively. "They checked the basement like you said but nothing."
"Let me look then," Guerin started toward a door to the left through which she could see stairs leading down.
"Stay with her, Prentiss," Tergensen ordered. "They want me up front."
Prentiss made an unpleasant noise as she followed Guerin down the stairs. "What's her problem, anyway?"
Guerin reached the bottom of the stairs and pulled out her flashlight. "I'm not sure you'd really want to know," Guerin said thinking back to the night before.
Prentiss said nothing just panned around with her own flashlight. The basement was large and mostly open. Behind them they could hear the floor squeaking as people walked around the level above. There was an old furnace, lots of shelves with dusty jars, and even more junk than the room upstairs.
Guerin went toward the rough stone wall that was under the far end of the mud room, began examining it closely. In the middle of the long wall she stopped and took a deep breath. Drawing in her energy she cast her mind outward reaching beyond the wall. She knew from studying the structure from the outside that there had once been another part of the house attached to the mud room and, most likely, another basement room.
At the edges of her consciousness, she could feel fear and despair. "Behind here," Guerin began pacing in front of the wall.
"What do you mean, behind? There's nothing there." Prentiss began striding toward the wall her boots almost silent on the earth floor until about six feet from the near end of the wall her foot came down hard on something with a hollow clang.
Immediately, Guerin dropped to her knees and began swiping away the loose dirt. Just underneath was a metal plate with a hand sized iron ring. "Help me," Guerin tugged upward on the ring.
It took the two of them to pull the plate up from the floor and drop it gently backward. The hole in the floor exposed a steep set of stairs leading down into the dark. Before Prentiss could protest, Guerin had started down. Once at the bottom, she was in a cold, brick lined tunnel that lead under the wall. Prentiss caught her as she started forward.
"We should wait for backup," she whispered in Guerin's ear.
Guerin ignored the request already moving forward to where light shone faintly down from an opening about twenty five feet farther on. Another steep set of stairs led up.
"Guerin!" Prentiss hissed but it was too late Guerin was already halfway up and peeking over the open hatch into the room beyond.
"Jesus, fuck," Prentiss heard her swear as she disappeared over the top.
Leading with her Glock, Prentiss followed more cautiously. At the top of the hatch she paused trying to take in the scene in front of her. There was a group of cages in two rows extending out from the back wall most of them occupied. Eyes blinked at the beam of her flashlight yet there was no sound from any of the women in them.
The only sound was Guerin's voice from her right. She turned slowly her flashlight and weapon moving together.
Guerin was talking softly to a terrified young woman as she gently guided her arms into the long sleeved heavy shirt she had moments before been wearing. The woman was sitting on a dirty mattress a broken manacle beside her left hand. When the shirt was fully around her body she clutched at it pulling her knees up and her neck down as if she could disappear into it. Prentiss realized then she had been naked except for something that looked like a dirty towel at her feet.
"It's OK, you're going to make it through this. You'll be alright. We're going to get you out of here," Guerin was saying.
Prentiss keyed the mike attached to her vest. "Morgan, get Tergensen and get down to the basement."
"Tell them to bring blankets, too." Guerin stood up slowly, started toward what looked like a pile of clothing under a table that was against the wall near the hatch in the floor.
Prentiss was trying to open the latch on the nearest cage when the two shots rang out. Guerin had stumbled against the table when Prentiss leaped across the room her weapon aimed into a dark opening to the left. Seeing movement she fired two quick shots.
A man grunted and fell back. Fishing her flashlight from her pocket she shone it into the opening the beam picking up a man laying flat on his back unmoving. One of her shots had caught him in the throat. She could see the blood pooling around his head as it reflected wetly in the light.
When she turned around Guerin was clutching her left arm at the elbow joint blood oozing through her two fingers and running down her bare arm. Prentiss shone her flashlight on the wound. "Are you hit anywhere else?"
"My side I think," Guerin lifted her arm and Prentiss could see a smudge of blood on her T-shirt just under her loose vest.
They could hear voices coming from the hatch in the floor and Tergensen was urgently talking out of the ear piece now dangling loose from its wire on Guerin's chest.
Morgan appeared first out of the hatch, then Tergensen and Reid.
"No one else comes in Devin," Guerin said harshly. "Not until we get them somewhat decent. They're scared and hurt. They don't need to be humiliated."
Tergensen just nodded.
Later
Guerin was unlocking the glove compartment of the Escalade when Prentiss got in the driver's side. All the vehicles had been brought from the barn to the farm house where they joined a multitude of emergency responders including several ambulances.
"How's your arm?" Prentiss asked shutting the door. The bandage the medics had applied was stained with blood. "Tergensen wants me to drive you to the clinic to get your arm seen to."
"It hurts like a son-of-a-bitch," Guerin had found a small case and was prying it open. "Type clinic in the GPS and hit enter."
As Prentiss backed the SUV away from the house, the pleasant female voice directed them to the Interstate and announced they had a drive of more than two hours ahead of them.
"Are you going to be alright?"
Guerin pulled the cap off a syringe with her teeth, spit it out. "I'll be just fine in a minute," she stuck the needle into her left bicep and pushed down on the plunger. "Don't worry about me; I have a lot of experience with pain meds."
Settling a towel under her wounded arm, Guerin leaned back sighing. After a few minutes, a slow smile played across her mouth. "Sweet," she sighed again. "God I love this stuff."
"You shouldn't get used to it," Prentiss shot a quick glance at the woman slumped in the seat beside her.
"Way too late for that," Guerin giggled her voice an octave or so higher than normal.
Prentiss said nothing, just concentrated on steering the SUV along the narrow county road.
"You're thrilled to be minding me, I can tell," Guerin was leaning back against the door one foot on the console between them. "You still think I'm a fake?"
When Prentiss looked at her the green eyes were hard. She said nothing refusing to be engaged.
"Why don't you profile me, you've got me here all alone," Guerin laughed again. "Not like anyone's going to know."
Prentiss knew she should hold her tongue not be egged into saying something she shouldn't, or playing Guerin's game, but her curiosity was too strong.
"Tell me one thing," she began, "what happened to your hand?"
Guerin held out her right hand as if seeing it for the first time, wiggled her fingers. "Pruning shears, I think it was."
"You cut off your fingers with pruning shears accidentally?" Prentiss was incredulous.
"Ah, no…" again the weird, drugged laugh, "it wasn't accidental, and it wasn't me."
Prentiss took a minute to put that together her mind bringing up the image of Guerin in the observation room and the scars on her back.
"What happened to you? Were you tortured?"
Guerin didn't answer as she was opening a water bottle with her teeth. She took a long drink dropped it into a cup holder. "What do you think?" she finally said.
"You seem to empathize a great deal with victims like that woman in the basement. It was like you knew exactly what she was going through. You knew that they needed to be protected from too many prying eyes – too many male eyes."
"Ah, score a point for Agent Prentiss," Guerin grinned.
"I would say you have a deep distrust of men except for the way you were with Reid yesterday, whatever that was." Prentiss noted the sign for the Interstate just before the GPS announced the turn. "You're surrounded by only women; women you have a strange relationship with."
"Score two."
"You want everything about you to be mysterious because you like the attention and want people to think you're some kind of secret operative."
"Minus two, Prentiss; you're wrong on both counts there."
Prentiss changed tactics tired of the game. "What's with you and Reid? He's got a big crush on you."
"Don't worry, I talked to him about that; explained to him I'm into girls."
Prentiss didn't react her eyes were on the road and the cars around them. It was getting darker now and the rain only added to the lack of visibility.
"I misjudged him," Guerin continued. "I didn't realize he was so lonely. He latched on to me and I didn't expect that."
"He thinks you are an empath; that you can feel what other people feel. He thinks you are all gentle and warm. That much I don't buy."
Guerin laughed, turned to look out the window. "What do you think?"
Prentiss trailed her hands over the steering wheel: down then up, and finally down again. "I think at your core you're much darker."
"Like you."
Neither said anything for a long time; Prentiss watching the road, Guerin staring at the GPS with the little car driving straight along the little road everything in its place and in order.
"Have you ever really been tested?" Guerin didn't wait for an answer just continued. "Ever had to stand up when it's all crashing down around you. When you think the pain is too much to ever bear?"
Prentiss glanced at her, said nothing.
"I never wanted any of this. Never asked for what happened to me. Calling me a fake is the worst thing you can say to me. You have no idea what it's like to be in the head of a guy like Bennett; to feel his delight at hurting those women. Feel it like it's your own. You might see shit like that every day in your job, but you can't feel it like I do. It just sucks."
She sat up then and reached for the iPod under the center console. "Enough of that," she punched on the stereo and selected a playlist, "time for some tunes and more good drugs."
Later
"Arriving at destination…"
Guerin opened her eyes and looked out the window at the familiar stone mansion. With effort she pulled her holster from her belt and shoved the weapon in the glove compartment. She looked over at Prentiss as the FBI agent shifted the SUV into park. "I was out for awhile?" Guerin asked noticing the music playing was not the playlist she had queued.
"Yeah, quite a while," Prentiss looked at the iPod. "I like your music. You have lots of stuff on there."
"Cool," Guerin pulled the cable from the iPod held it out to Prentiss. "It's 200 Gig. Take it; I got a couple more."
Prentiss took the device, slipping it in her pocket. "Thanks. This is the place?"
"Yup, Doctor Mehta should be expecting us," Guerin opened her door started to swivel her legs around and paused. "I don't think I can walk so well. Can you give me a hand?"
When Prentiss came around the car to help Guerin stand, the towel dropped at her feet. It was soaked in blood, as was Guerin's pants.
"You've lost a lot of blood," Prentiss draped the shorter woman's arm over her shoulder began walking toward the front door of the big house. The door was unlocked so she half dragged Guerin into the hall looking around.
"Oh, dear, dear," said a male voice with a pronounced South Asian accent as a short man in a lab coat came toward them. "In here, please," he preceded them into a room to the left.
"Up on the table," he helped Prentiss get Guerin on the narrow steel table then adjusted an arm rest under her injured limb. "Can you start an IV?" he looked at Prentiss.
"No sorry," Prentiss backed away as Dr Mehta came around the table and pulled down the tubing that was attached to a hanging fluid bag. Skillfully he inserted a needle in the back of Guerin's hand, set the flow of the IV liquid, and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm. A monitor came to life above the table showing vital signs.
"Oh, my! Her blood pressure is very low. Has she been bleeding long?"
"It took us a couple hours to drive here," Prentiss provided.
Pulling on gloves, he began laying out sterile drapes over Guerin's arm. "Tell Tergensen next time get the helicopter." He broke the striped tape on a sterile instrument set flicking open the cloth wrapping.
After a few minutes of arranging instruments, lighting and swabbing with disinfectant, he looked at Guerin. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired and totally high," Guerin said with a giggle.
"You should not take so much Dilaudid. Not good for you," Dr Mehta scolded holding a syringe loaded with Lidocane. "I'm going to put in the freezing now. The artery has been nicked. I need you to be still."
"Is good for me," Guerin mumbled.
Dr Mehta seated himself on a stool, looked over at Prentiss. "You should sit as well," he said to her. "This will take a while."
He had been working for a few minutes before he looked at Guerin a sly smile on his face. "She is very pretty," briefly he looked at Prentiss. "Is she your latest conquest?"
"Ha ha, I wish!" Guerin laughed, risked a look at Prentiss.
"Is she single then?"
"I think you need to ask her that," Guerin let her head fall to the right looking directly at Prentiss. "One of his daughters told him she was gay. He's been trying to find her a wife ever since."
"You and Simran would have been good together," Dr Mehta said to Guerin before looking at Prentiss. "I was planning the wedding; so nice it would have been, goodness gracious, then this devil broke her heart," he made a clucking sound with his tongue before continuing. "For days she would not leave her room; always watching the Bollywood movies."
Guerin laughed at him grinning.
"He's only making that up," she said to Prentiss. "You notice how he gets more fresh-off-the boat with his accent?"
Prentiss just shook her head.
Dr Mehta worked in silence for a few more minutes before speaking again. "Still she is very pretty, Guerin. Tergensen must be desperately jealous." His accent when he said this was less South Asian and more British upper class.
"Desperate yes; jealous, I could care less." Guerin looked at Prentiss again. "He wanted to be an actor, so I hear."
"The Tom Cruise of Bollywood, I could have been," he waved a needle driver haphazardly his accent back. "Or maybe Russell Crowe…"
"More like Danny DeVito I think," Guerin teased.
There was silence again for a while as Dr Mehta applied stitches.
"And how did you manage to get yourself mixed up with Guerin and Tergensen?" Dr Mehta asked Prentiss breaking the silence. Finished with her arm, he pulled up her T-shirt to bandage the graze on her side.
"I have no idea anymore," Prentiss looked away.
Later
Guerin was nearly ready to collapse by the time they made it past the two gates and the retinal scanner at the door into the house from the garage.
"This is your place?" Prentiss looked around as she helped Guerin onto a stool at the granite counter that separated the main part of the great room from the attached kitchen.
"Your tax dollars at work," Guerin commented without passion. "Can you make me something to eat? My energy is very low. There's stuff for sandwiches in the fridge and bread in the bread tin."
Prentiss opened the fridge, began pulling out meat, mayo, tomatoes and lettuce. Without being asked, she handed Guerin a bottle of orange juice took one for herself. Guerin popped open two of the pill bottles provided by Dr Mehta. She swallowed an antibiotic and two pain pills.
"You must have a very low pain threshold," Prentiss was spreading mayo.
"Yer fucking hilarious, you know," Guerin's tone was surprisingly savage and Prentiss turned around to look at her. For a long moment they stared at each other until Guerin finally looked away. Prentiss went back to making sandwiches.
Once finished, she brought the two plates to the breakfast bar and they ate in silence. Guerin made short work of her sandwich, drained the last of her juice, stood up, and fell flat on her face.
Prentiss managed to wrangle the half conscious woman up to her bedroom, get her boots and bloody pants off. Guerin came to enough at that point to lurch into the bathroom. When she reappeared she was pulling off her shirt. She flopped on the bed, laid back on the pillows.
Prentiss arranged the pill bottles on the bedside table with a glass of water. When she looked down at Guerin, she froze. The scars on her chest were much worse than anything else Prentiss had yet seen on her body; deep and very obviously deliberate. Guerin pulled the sheet up over herself, sighed. "Sorry you had to see that."
"It's OK," Prentiss said. Guerin was already asleep.
