Chapter Four

Team Sleep – Blvd. Nights (acoustic)

Three and a half hours. That's the time it would take to fly from Quantico to Moffat County. Palmer's stomach was in knots just like the last time she set foot on the jet. It was no secret now that Palmer hated to fly. She had a terrible fear of the plane crashing, even with Reid spilling out statistics on the unlikelihood of a plane crash.

She didn't get any statistics this time. Reid was already on the jet, sitting at the table near the window, Hotch seated to his right. Rossi and JJ took the seats across from them while Morgan, and Riley took places elsewhere.

When the plane started down the runway, Palmer leaned her head back on the seat and took a deep breath. She was facing Reid where she was, with Morgan sitting right across from her. He nudged her knee with his and she nodded. "I'm ok." She said softly. There was nothing she wanted more than for Reid to be sitting beside her, keeping her nerves under control.

Reid peered at Palmer over the top of his file folder. Morgan had his knee against Riley's and was speaking to her in a soothing tone. Reid didn't have to hear the words to know what Morgan was saying to her. The same thing he should have been telling her himself but here he sat, on the other side of the plane, sulking. It was too late to trade places now. Soon the jet would be in the air and they would be free to roam around the cabin and discuss the case. Until then, he had to watch Morgan reach out and squeeze her hand for support.

Once they were in the air Morgan released her hand and gave it a little pat before standing up and joining the team near the table. He sat at the edge of the couch and grabbed a file from Hotch. It took Palmer a minute to compose herself but she made sure not to take too long in doing so. She leaned against the side bar, crossing her arms over her chest. As hard as it was, the time had come to focus on the case yet again.

Palmer listened intently while they discussed the information again. But there was something bothering her. She chewed her lip as she thought. It was almost two hundred years since the compound had started with construction and they didn't have any running water, cell service, or even electricity. Why would they choose to live like that? It was a lot like the Amish but they chose that way of life according to religion. The fact that the people living there were heavily grounded in the Roman Catholic religion and still living primitively didn't make much sense.

"Palmer, what's on your mind?" Leave it to Rossi to realize the cogs in her head were spinning. She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking.

"It doesn't make any sense to me why they live in that compound." Riley shook her head.

"Compounds are a good way to keep traditions in and keep the outside world out." Reid stated plainly, not even bothering to give a statistic. Morgan watched him, waiting for more, but when he said nothing he shrugged it off.

"Exactly. They live in complete isolation out there. So why? Most religious groups don't completely shut themselves out from the world like that. Most of them want to share their beliefs with the world; to recruit more followers. Cults confine themselves. They wall up their residents because it's easier to brainwash them. They confine them, raise their children in the belief of the cult, and don't allow outsiders because to a degree they know that some of the things they are going are illegal and they don't want people who are already brainwashed to become aware. Not to mention the brainwashing process requires that individuals be completely disconnected from the outside world and the walls of a compound serve as a way to keep people separated from true free will. " Palmer replied.

"She's got a point." Morgan chimed in. "Why would Roman Catholics refuse to move on with modern advances and wall themselves in? There has to be more to it than we know."

Reid's brow furrowed in thought. "They started building their community in the early 1800's, but walled themselves in in the mid 1820's. Now there's a fire and a possible body." Reid turned the laptop toward him and after a few clicks, Garcia was on the line. He straightened the computer so the rest of the team could see her.

"Office of awesome, Queen of the realm speaking."

"Garcia, I need you to go back as far as you can for calls made to the police concerning the compound." Reid asked.

"Ok give me just a minute…"her voice trailed, her fingers flying over the keys of her pc. "There was a call five years ago about a fire, but it was dismissed as a controlled burn, even though the fire department wasn't granted access. Oh, this is weird. Fifteen years ago a call was made from the same ranch that called 911 this time. They called and reported a young boy had shown up in their property. Turns out, he was a run away from the compound in question and was returned to his parents. They claimed he was always getting into trouble but they seemed glad to have him back so there weren't any further investigations. There are a few more fire incidents over the past fifty years but nothing that was thought to be suspicious."

"Who made that call about the little boy?" Hotch asked. "We need to try to talk to him and see if he can remember anything odd about that incident."

"His name was Danny West. He died last year of a heart attack. His son Michael was the one that made the 911 call last night and his brother Caleb is the sheriff that requested us." Garcia stated.

"The sons might be able to remember something about the runaway. Thank you Garcia." Hotch dismissed her and after a quirky goodbye, her image clicked from the screen.

"I think I might know what this is about and frankly, I hope I'm wrong." Said Reid, licking his lips before starting with his assumptions. "If this compound is strictly Roman Catholic and they came here in the early 1800's, then then might have come here to convert travelers and keep Catholics fresh in their faith. In this picture, it looks like a body being burned at the stake and if that is true, we might be looking at a modern day inquisition. The last inquisition ended in 1823, which would be the time that these people cut themselves off from society and walled in their own lands."

"Wait, you think they're burning people at the stake? For what? Are they killing criminals or something?" JJ asked.

"No, the inquisitions were meant to point out heretics and punish them for their heresy. Being burned at the stake was the last stage of the interrogation process." Riley swallowed hard as the jet gave a little lurch. Her eyes locked with Reid's but only for a moment.

"In 1252, Pope Innocent IV released a papal bull called Ad extirpanda. It authorized and outlined the circumstances and limitations on using torture to interrogate heretics. Four years later, inquisitors were given absolution if they happened to use torture devices in order to get names and other information from their victims. The tortures themselves were gruesome but one of the limitations was that no torture device could be used if it caused the victim to bleed. That's why burning at the stake was usually the choice execution method by inquisitors." Reid explained.

"If they're starting another inquisition, that means they must have tortured this person before they were murdered. If they act in a group like this, what are the chances of them being sadists?" JJ questioned.

"I don't think so. This is a group of people that have no doubt been born and raised in there. An inquisition might just be an accepted way of life. Chances are, it's not just one person torturing and killing, if that's even what's going on."

"Rossi's right, do won't know for sure if this was even a person until we get into that compound. Our information at this point is limited. We'll just have to wait til we get there to find out more." Hotch collected the files and let the team go about doing whatever they wanted.

Palmer returned to her seat and closed her eyes. They were going through minor turbulence but to her it felt like the jet was going to plummet to the earth at any minute. Three more hours of this. Caught up as she was in trying to put herself in a happy place, she didn't even realize that Rossi had taken a seat across from her. He nudged a drink into her hand and she took a swallow without even looking at it.

The drink burned like fire and she sputtered, clasping her hand to her mouth to keep the liquid in. He was smirking at her mischievously as he took a sip from his own glass. "You're not supposed to chug it."

"Thanks for the warning." She replied dryly, swirling the amber liquid in the glass. He burn in her belly was a good burn, sure to melt away her fears while it relaxed her body. She had drank the same several times with Rossi, trying to take Reid's rejection graciously. Rossi's therapy had done wonders for her and even after she and Reid's friendship stabilized, she found Rossi's home to be a relaxing sanctuary. Well, most of the time. Sometimes it was booze fueled Guitar Hero nights that never seemed to end. Rossi was a surprising individual and Palmer had come to respect and appreciate him immensely.

"So. What's eating the kid?" Rossi, clasped his hands around his glass and tilted his head to the side. Palmer knew he was genuinely curious, as she was sure most everyone on the plane had noticed Reid's strange behavior and were all probably curious as well. However, she was far closer to Rossi than any of the others, even if she had respect for them. "Did something happen between you two?"

"I honestly don't know." Palmer shrugged. "He woke up me up early this morning. Said he had a nightmare but he wouldn't tell me what it was about. For the past week he's been having nightmares and just acting really weird."

"He didn't say anything about the subject of the dreams?" Rossi prodded.

"No, nothing. But he sounded terrified. I hate to say I was so tired I didn't stay on the phone with him like I normally would but he didn't seem to want me to. He was quick to get off the phone and it made me wonder why he even called in the first place."

"I'm not sure, but I'll tell you this. Reid cares about you. But he tends to throw a wall up when he needs the most help. Don't give up on him just yet. He'll come around, and when he does, whatever the problem may be, he's going to need help." Rossi finished his drink and set the glass in a cup holder.

Palmer just nodded in agreement and downed the rest of her own glass. She had three hours to sleep it off. Mind reeling, she leaned to the side, resting her head on a throw pillow against the wall. A blanket dropped across her knees before she drifted off, leaving behind the sound of jet engines, flipping pages of books, and hushed conversation.