Chapter 3
Jennifer Jareau's Bad Day
"Oh, no." Morgan sighs as he kneels down in the grass, still damp from the morning dew. He pulls on light blue latex gloves, looking down at the young blond woman, whose lower half still lies in the pond and whose chalk white face rests on its left cheek in the grass. He tilts his own head towards the officer guarding the body, only making out a shadow against the glaring morning light. "Did Mr. Gunner move her?"
"No, Sir. He said he was so shocked, he jumped to his feet and ran towards the street to get help. Afterwards he noticed that he had also wet his pants."
"Won't hold that against him. I'm pretty sure I'd wet myself if I woke up with a dead face staring at me."
Slowly Hotch and another man in a suit with receding hair and an impressive mustache are approaching the scene. He stops next to Morgan and introduces the other man as Detective Kruger, Crow's partner. He then bends down himself, pulling on gloves as he does.
"She looks peaceful." He carefully lifts some of the blond hair - anxious not to move the body before the Medical Examiner arrives at the scene - and examines her neck. He then stands, his knees popping as he stretches them, and walks around the body. "No signs of damage by external force. No blood, no strangulation marks, no bruises on the exposed extremities at all."
"Well, except for… the message." Gently, Morgan strokes back some hair from her forehead exposing the letters carved into her skin. "I shall not lie. Maybe our unsub drugged her and threw her into the water."
"Let's not make assumptions until the Medical Examiner arrived and we'll know for sure." Hotch reminds the younger man, who still kneels in front of the victim, shaking his head. He turns towards Kruger again. "How did you ID her?"
The older man shrugs. "Drivers license was in her blouse's front pocket, along with some bills. We didn't move anything though, Doctor Isles is very peculiar about those things and we didn't want to risk a lecture concerning "securing evidence". Again."
"I understand Doctor Isles is the Medical Examiner? Why isn't he here, yet? I've seen the morgue van on our way down here."
"We were only able to reach her recently. Forgot her phone in her car while staying with a friend with a broken leg."
Morgan comes to his feet next to his boss and laughs. "Well that seems to be today's theme!"
The morning light is glaring down at them, as Emily and JJ leave the crime scene and head towards a nearby park bench. Before they had left the car, both of them had popped some painkillers to stop the worst throbbing in their heads.
"You should've stopped me from drinking all that wine." JJ complains as they slowly walk down the path.
"You threatened to cut my hair while I was asleep if I didn't give you the bottle." Emily reminds her dryly. After JJ had told Emily about Will's leaving, they had stood in Emily's bedroom for some time, JJ clinging onto her friend, but not crying. They had settled down onto her bed and silently emptied the first bottle – neither of them knowing what to say, but both of them enjoying the company. Apart from her confession concerning Will's leave she didn't mention the man again and Emily didn't want to pry. At least not then. You didn't need to be a profiler to see that JJ was in shock right now and instead of deepening her sorrow she went for being supportive. It would be wrong to say that Emily had disliked Will from the first time they've met – quite contrary. She liked the quiet and polite man, found his southern behavior quite charming and enjoyed the respectful way in which he approached the team. But… Yes, but she didn't like seeing him with JJ. Afraid of making a fool out of herself for voicing her concerns she swallowed them down. Who was she to judge the relationship between them. Apart from that: JJ seemed to be happy. Mostly. Who was she to judge. So she didn't judge when JJ was standing in front of her apartment in the middle of the night and she sure as hell wasn't going to tell her the all time favorite: "I told you so." Because she didn't and even if she had, she wouldn't. She cared for her friend. Her friend. Right. There would be nights in that she would sit in the bathtub, pushing the balls of her hands into her eyes, sobbing silently. Those nights had happened in the past and she was able to cope with them. And right now JJ needed a friend and not a jealous cynic. So they had drunken the wine in silence, and after the silence had lasted long enough but neither of them wanted to break the calm in which they'd been sitting, JJ asked Emily to tell her some stories from her time at boarding schools. There was more wine, there was even laughter and in the drunken haze that drifted through her head, Emily made the resolution to destroy whoever dared to rob Jennifer Jareau of her clear laughter and those sparkling eyes.
JJ stops and gives her friend a side look. "I didn't."
"Yeah. You did."
She ponders on that for a moment and then nods. "Okay. Yeah. I might have."
They start walking again, straightening up and smoothing down their blazers, as they approach the shabby looking man in his fifties on the bench.
"Wow, he looks like his night has been worse than ours." Emily mumbles, putting on a business like smile. He was wearing a light brown suit that has been in style probably ten years ago and moreover is also at least two sizes too big for its owner. The formerly white shirt is now patterned with a wide variety of different colored, dried stains – there are tiny pieces sticking to some of them. The greasy, grey-streaked hair sticks out to all sides and a remarkable five o'clock shadow darkens his face below his red rimmed eyes. For a short moment Emily regrets the fact, that she didn't put on gloves before approaching the man. But she catches herself and instead stretches out her hand to greet him.
"I assume you are Mr. Gunner, right?"
"Well, you're assuming mighty right, lady."
"I am Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss and this is my partner SSA Jennifer Jareau." JJ also extends her hand and cringes inwardly when her hand keeps slightly stuck on something on the man's palm.
"I've already talked to the police. I didn't do nothing. Listen lady: I just wanna go home!"
"We are with the FBI and just like to ask you a couple of questions. One of the officers will see you home then. I promise it won't take long." JJ flashes him her best Press Liaison smile.
"Goddamnit! I'm in pain and you keep me here! Like a prisoner!" Gunner hits his fist with a flat hand and glares with bloodshot eyes at the two agents. "My head is killing me! Killing me!"
"The Medical Examiner will be here in a moment, maybe he can give you…" JJ started.
"The corpse doc? Nope! Go away! You'll be sorry if you'll get him near me! Nope! I'm not dead! You hear me? I am not dead! I won't take shit like that from you! All I need is a drink! A goddamn drink! No one here will get me a drink! I'd feel a lot better, if someone'd get me a drink!"
The police officer, who accompanied Lesley while he was waiting for the FBI puts a heavy hand down on his shoulder to stop him from jumping up and keeps him down on the bench. But even though he keeps him down, a heavy wave of foul and alcoholic breath hits JJ as she takes a cautious step backwards. In combination with the urine-soaked pants and the stained suit, the smell adds up to a very intense combination. JJ gags audible.
Emily decides to try her luck to deescalate the situation. "Mr. Gunner – did anyone offer you some clean pants?"
"Now what's wrong with my pants? You wanna rob me off my pants? I'm sittin' here, suffering and you wanna rob me off my pants? I want a drink!"
At the mention of the drink JJ gags again. Memories of the enormous amount of wine consumed during the last night flash in front of her eyes in bright colors. Her headache begins to pulse in time with them. "If only he could stop talking about drinks." She mumbles into Emily's ear. But Emily isn't about to give up the subject, yet.
"Mr. Gunner, we…"
"That's police harassment! Help. HELP! I'm being held against my will! I'm being declined my human rights! I WANT A DRINK!" Again he ties to jump up, but as the officer brings down his hand on his shoulder this time it slips off and instead grabs the back of his collar. Like in slow motion, JJ sees the fabric of the shirt stretch until the first buttons fly off to reveal a hirsute chest. She turns on her heels, sprinting towards the next trashcan, reaching it just in time to throw up.
"Enough! Enough!" Emily shouts at Gunner. She points an angry finger at the recalcitrant witness. "Officer, please take him to the police station and get him into a drying-out cell! We'll continue this, once he's right minded again! And get rid of those clothes for Chrissake!"
"I just want a…"
Emily takes another angry step towards him, the finger still raised and pointing in a threatening manner. The sun's reflections on her dark hair match the angry spark in her eyes and let the man shut up immediately; she looks more like an Amazon than a police woman. "If I hear the word "drink" one more time…" She doesn't end the sentence, but instead lets the threat hang in the air unspoken. She gives the smirking officer a nod and casually walks towards JJ, who by now has retreated from the trashcan and stands on the path, taking deep breaths.
"Not a single word, Emily Prentiss. I warn you! Not a word!"
