Edited December 19, 2016.

So I'm hoping to have a Christmas present up for this story, but I can't promise anything.

Chapter Seven

After the team leaves their makeshift conference room for some coffee, David lingers by the door, choosing not to follow. He can't justify it to himself, but something in him is keeping his feet glued to the floor. He's sure it's partly curiosity, wanting to know why Reid zoned out in there when David had been so sure Reid was on the ball with the case. David tries not to think too hard on how to rationalize this as any of his business.

Internally arguing with himself, David is just about to give up and head to the kitchen after the others, already coming up with an excuse, when the two agents left in the room start to speak. Even though he feels bad for eavesdropping, David doesn't leave. He listens, quashing his guilt, and keeps an ear out for the return of the others. He almost turns around and walks away when Morgan starts ribbing the younger agent for zoning out, but stays when Morgan's tone changes.

"Hey, what's up? Don't tell me nothing, Reid, 'cause we both know that isn't true. So, come on, tell me; what's up?"

David straightens up a bit once this travels through the doorway, training all his hearing onto the habitants in the room.

"Jackson Valley Ct., where the first two victims lived."

David holds his breath, leaning closer to the door. Has Reid found a connection between Michaels and Gulls? If so, David is desperate to hear it.

"Okay. What about it?"

"It's where I lived as a child. It's the place I grew up."

David stops. He hesitates by the door, unsure of whether to leave or slip into the room himself. He finally decides that it might be best if Morgan and Reid go unaware of his eavesdropping, yet his curiosity is still not sated. He moves so that his stance can be passed off as casual by any who pass by him, so no one will suspect his real motives.

"You lived in the same area as the first two victims?" Morgan's voice asks quietly. "Did they live there while you did?"

The rustling of papers echoes into the slight crack in the door and into the hall. It takes a moment for Reid to find whatever he's looking for, which is strange in itself, but he manages it quicker than the others could have.

"Um, yeah. Gary Michaels moved there when I would have been around four or five, and Kristopher Gulls moved shortly after Michaels went missing. Why?"

David's mind is whirling almost too much for him to catch what is being said by Morgan. This is new. At the time of his son's abduction, David hadn't really bothered to nit-pick all the fine details – he had only been able to handle one thing at a time, and James's absence had been more than enough. So he hadn't known where exactly in Vegas Michaels had lived – or for how long – until they took the case.

So, not only had Reid grown up in the same immediate area as two – and more in the surrounding area – pedophiles, he had also lived a stone throw's away from where James had been kept. Why had Michaels stayed in one place for such a long time? It must have been dangerous; Michaels had to have known that the FBI was looking for him. It would have been insanely risky to remain in the same street – same house! – for, what? Two, three years? Possibly more, since he could've flown out to Quantico with the sole purpose of kidnapping a child, though it seems unlikely. Flying out from Vegas, just in an attempt to snatch a boy? There had to have been plenty of children he could've taken closer to home – why, even Spencer Reid had been merely a few rows over.

There had to have been something that kept him tethered to Vegas, to the street he'd lived on. Another victim, perhaps? One that the authorities never knew about? Maybe Reid will know of any children that had gone missing when he was young – perhaps one of them could be traced back to Michaels, and give them a lead.

However, David is still wrapping his mind around this new connection between Spencer and James. They had been so close to each other. Was it possible that they had maybe interacted, for even a brief stint in time? Michaels couldn't have kept James cooped up in his prison-house for two years straight, not without raising suspicion. He had to have let him out every now and then, right? It's a long-shot, but Reid might have at least seen him when he was young.

Although, David thinks as his heart sinks, it's not like he can ask him, not unless he wants to tell Reid about James. Maybe he should tell the whole team, make sure it doesn't come up and bite him in the ass later if they find out on their own. Not yet, though. He can't do it now.

"You gonna tell Hotch?"

Morgan's voice jolts David out of his thoughts, brining his attention back to the agents he's currently eavesdropping on. He's shame and guilt of this fact has all but evaporated. He doesn't hear any answer from Reid to Morgan's question, though he doesn't know if he's just missed it or if Reid didn't choose to answer. However, he does hear the squeak of a chair across the floor as someone gets to their feet. At the same time, the thrum of footsteps come from the opposite end of the hall, signaling the return of the others. Trapped, David hurriedly moves closer to the sound of the team's voices, spinning on his heel and facing the other way as he does.

When Hotch rounds the corner, with the others rounded up behind him, his eyebrows climb when he sees David slowly trudging back to the conference room.

"Dave," he calls, and only then does David notice an extra coffee cup in his hand. "Here," Hotch says, handing it over. "Thought you might want a cup. Where were you?"

David waves his hand dismissively. "Just looking around," he offers lamely. "You know, it's probably cruel, somehow, all of us drinking coffee in front of Reid when you didn't give the kid a chance to grab some himself. You wouldn't do that on purpose, would you?"

Hotch sighs, and behind him a smile tugs at JJ's lips. "No," she answers for him. "Hotch wouldn't – but we would. Spence'll be fine. He's the one who's always saying how he isn't totally dependent on coffee; maybe it's time he proved it."

David quirks a brow, but raises no further complaint as he gratefully takes the extra cup off Hotch's hands. They push open the door and enter the room, David feeling a little apprehensive at what they will find. Luckily, it appears that Morgan and Reid are finished their small conversation. Morgan is leaning against the table, apparently studying the evidence board, and Reid is still sitting exactly where everyone left him. Morgan throws a glance their way when he hears them enter, then grins gratefully at JJ when she passes over a cup of coffee. Reid pouts and eyes them moodily, so Blake plops into a chair beside him.

"Don't worry," she says. "Next time we'll take you with us."

"Told you it was cruel," David murmurs to JJ, indicating the agent with a tilt of his head. JJ purses her lips together, but her sparkling eyes give away her inner laughter. "This isn't some attempt at a coffee ban, is it?" he asks worriedly.

"Why? Don't want a volatile Reid to deal with?"

David shakes his head, allowing her to interpret it anyway she wishes. He takes a gulp of his beverage, carefully keeping his eyes from straying to Reid so as to avoid the look of betrayal and longing that's bound to be painted on his face. Before he can feel too guilty about all of them drinking coffee, the phone placed directly in the middle of the table starts to ring.

As it can clearly only be one person, Hotch immediately clicks it onto speakerphone. "Garcia," he says in greeting. "What have you got?"

"I did what you wanted, sir, and tried to find any missing children reports from around the time of death for each victim," she responds, "and you are so good. In the case of every victim, at least one child went missing about a week before their deaths. I looked into it, and every child lived close to, or had intercepting paths with, the victim that was murdered in that time frame.

Okay, so for Kristopher Gulls, a girl named Ella Norton disappeared four days before his body was found, about two days before his murder."

Reid scrambles up from his chair and hastily paces over to the evidence board, while Morgan slips into his vacated seat. Reid uncaps the marker and begins scribbling down the facts that Garcia is dutifully giving out beside the names of their victims.

"She was nine years old and lived three houses down from him, plus she did the paper route; he would have seen her every day. Before you ask, yes, I've already checked her background for possible suspects. Her mother wasn't in the picture and, from what I can gather, her father didn't care much for her and her brother. Her brother, however, Charlie, disappeared three years after her disappearance. I mean, like, literally disappeared – no credit card trails, no internet life, no nothing. I don't even know if he's still alive."

Hotch briefly glances up at Reid, who shrugs and marks down the name on the suspect list anyway. It's a pretty empty list. His marker remains poised over the list for a moment's pause, but then he gives a tiny jerk of the head and lowers it. David narrows his eyes at this, but stays silent.

"The third victim was Tomas Mitchell, and I discovered that just over a week before his murder, a seven-year-old girl's body showed up, matching the description of one Courtney Smith. She didn't live anywhere near him, but her after-school care was a block down. He had ample opportunity to kidnap her without anyone noticing."

"Any potential suspects?" JJ asks, beating Reid to the punch; he closes his mouth and turns back to the board, lofting the marker up in preparation.

"Ah, no. Family's all deceased, and there doesn't appear to be any vengeful seeming neighbors."

Reid lowers the marker again, looking disappointed. "What about the fourth victim?" he inquires, then barely pauses before adding, "Jean Locke?"

"Oh, boy. Let's see… yeah, here it is. Jean Locke's body was found two weeks after the disappearance of an eleven-year-old boy named Danny Luke. Again, no potential suspects, but I can tell you that so far, all the missing/murdered children went to the same school. As far as I can tell, they didn't know each other except maybe seeing one another in the playground or something."

"What school was it?" Blake asks, resting her elbow on the table and then propping her head up on her hand.

"Shadow Ridge," comes the reply – but it isn't from Garcia.

"Um, yeah; what he said. How did you know that, Boy Wonder?" she says from the phone, managing to mute her tone of surprise.

The team glances up at Reid in question, but only Morgan and David have a look of dawning realization; and neither are too happy at the connection. Reid flushes, looking flustered. He scratches the back of his neck and diverts his eyes.

"That was the, uh, local elementary in the area," he flounders. "It was changed to a high-school in 1992."

"How do you know that?" JJ asks in an amused manner.

Reid flits his gaze over to Morgan, looking panicked, and Morgan seems to be debating mentally. David understands his dilemma – tell Reid he needs to tell the team about his connection to this case, or help a friend out of a sticky situation? Just as Morgan appears to come to a decision, Garcia frees Reid from his awkward position.

"Oh, come on Jayje! Our genius knows everything – time to accept it and move on to the next topic. Which would be the fifth victim; Kelly Gordon, killed three days after the body of Cal Williams was found. Cal Williams was eight, and wouldn't you know it; he went to Shadow Ridge too.

"Then, there's Bobby Morris; he was murdered when a ten-year-old girl named Katie Jessal accused him of trying to lure her into his house. Nothing was proven, but the police didn't make much of an effort after the guy was found dead. Katie didn't go to Shadow Ridge, but she had a sister that did.

"Chris Nunner's body has not yet been found, but there's clear evidence pointing to his death. He disappeared when one Molly Porter, aged thirteen, was found unconscious in his house."

"Wait," Blake says slowly. "What about Gary Michaels? Any disappearances around his time of murder?"

David and Hotch both tense, sharing a similar worried look. Garcia stays silent for a beat too long, and the others start to grow cautiously suspicious expressions.

"Oh, I, uh, couldn't find anything substantial for missing children during that time," Garcia finally improvises. "I'll . . . keep working on it.

"As for the others, I'm still working on it. It's surprisingly difficult to find anything substantial on Daniel Teel, Tommy Foal, and Greg Jordan. Seriously, it's like someone just erased any motive for their murders. The files are there, they're just buried under useless codes and junk. Don't you worry, however, because PG is on the case. I'll call you when I have more, crime fighters!"

With her usual bid of goodbye, Garcia hangs up. The room lapses into silence, the only sound being the squeak of the marker on the board as Reid adds the last bits of information to what little they have. Once done, he steps back and observes the work he's detailed.

"Only one suspect so far," Blake says. "Charlie Norton."

"It's possible he's the UnSub, but it's highly unlikely," Reid says absently. "From what Garcia's said, it looks like he just disappeared. Best bet is that he's dead. Or hiding out somewhere. The reason he disappeared was to get away from society, erase himself from existence. He wouldn't want to draw attention to himself by implicating himself with murders. No, it's doubtful that Charlie Norton is actually the UnSub."

"Either way, it's worth checking out," Hotch says. "Hopefully, Garcia will be able to find something substantial on him, so we can go talk to him."

"Until then, I guess we'll have to take a look at past crime scenes," JJ sighs. "It's really all we have to go on for now; at least until Garcia either finds something pinning down Norton, or she gets through those videos from the UnSub for clues. I doubt she'll be done any time soon – she's the best at what she does, but you have to admit this is difficult, even for her."

"JJ's right," Hotch agrees. "However, we'll have to start with only three of the crime scenes for now – the others are a few hours' drive; a day at least. We can wait until we know for sure there are no other clues to glean from the others to go there. Blake, Reid, you two can check out Gary Michael's site of death, as well as his former residence. Rossi and Morgan, you take a look at Gulls' murder site and residence; JJ and I will go investigate Locke's sites."

The team nods, but at least two of their number look more than a bit apprehensive; Reid tries to hide it, but does a poor job at concealing his worried frown, while David is openly displeased. Though grateful to Hotch for not making him search Michaels' place of residence, he can't help but feel a faint throb of annoyance – he had, in a small way, wanted to see the place for himself; had wanted to see the final living space of his son. However, he acknowledges the fact that it would probably not have been the best idea to do so while in company of another team member – even Hotch, though he now knows all about James.

None of this, however, manages to assuage his feelings whatsoever.

As the team pushes away from the table and begins filtering out the door to do as ordered, David hangs back, hoping that his plan will work.

Luckily it comes through and succeeds, as Reid is also among the last of the line to leave. He hovers by the table a moment longer than the others, packing up his satchel with books and crime pictures before hefting it onto his shoulder and turning to leave. By this time, the others have already vacated the room, so David has ample opportunity to reach out and snag his arm.

Reid stills and spins back around, a puzzled look on his face.

"Rossi?" he says in question. "What's wrong?"

David eyes him. "I could ask you the same," he says. "I saw how hesitant you were when Garcia was on the phone, especially when she brought up the school." No need to tell him about his eavesdropping escapade. "When you were listing the facts onto the board, you looked as if you wanted to say something. What was it?"

Reid bites his lip, looking reluctant.

"If you know anything that can help the case, Reid, you have to tell me," David urges.

The younger agent blows out a breath through his teeth in a whoosh, apparently deciding that something in David's eye makes him trustworthy with whatever information he's about to share.

"It could be nothing," he warns. "It might've just been my imagination. I was a kid, and my mom said that he was a figment of my imagination, that he wasn't real, but it's just -" Spencer stops, sounding frustrated. David stays silent, but encourages him to continue with a tiny nod. "When I was a kid, about five or six, I had this 'imaginary' friend; at least, that's what my mother told me he was. Riley Jenkins. He was a year or so older than me, and played on my little league team. One day, Riley disappeared. I discovered later that he had been killed and found behind the dryer in his basement. I don't know what happened to him, the case went unsolved, but I – his path crossed with Gary Michaels', the first victim, a lot. It's possible that he had something to do with Riley's death – if he was ever real, that is."

David frowns. "If he wasn't real," he says, piecing it together, "then how would there be a case to go unsolved?"

Reid sucks on his lip nervously. "Well," he ventures, "I never actually saw the case files, or any proof of their existence. I was told about them by a… friend," he says, though he sounds unsure to David's ears.

"What kind of friend?" David queries.

Reid wrinkles his brow. "I-I don't remember," he stutters uncertainly, obviously unsettled by this revelation.

Despite the fact that this stuns David – isn't Reid supposed to remember everything? – he doesn't let it show; the agent's clearly panicked enough as it is.

"Don't worry about it," he assures. "It probably doesn't matter who told you. Just relax; even your memory isn't infallible, Reid. Go on, best catch up to Blake – she's bound to be waiting for you, if she hasn't decided it a lost cause and left without you."

Spencer nods, still shaken by his memory loss, and scampers from the room, leaving the elder agent to contemplate in solitude. He knows Morgan is awaiting him, so he hastily pulls his phone from his pocket and punches in the correct number for speed-dial.

"Rossi?"

"Garcia," he says. "I have a favor to ask you."

"Oh, um, okay sir. I'm a little swamped with the videos and tracking down Charlie Norton, so is it something quick, or another little project? I wouldn't mind if it was something big, of course, it would just take longer and slow down the case work, and I don't -"

"It isn't anything big," David assures, a little suspicious as to why Garcia is spewing words at him nervously. Then he remembers; Hotch had asked her to search Michaels, and she had been the one to tell him about James. No wonder she's a bit of a mess with him right now.

"Oh, well, okay then. What can I do for you?"

"I need everything you can find on one Riley Jenkins."