Hello everyone. Glad you stopped in for another chapter. There is a lot going on in this one so I'll let you get to it. Now on with the show!
The next morning Emily found herself once again in front of a judge. She sat at the defendant's table listening with one ear to the Assistant DA listing the reasons why Hotch shouldn't be allowed to be her lawyer while he smoothly countered her arguments. Every now and then she would glance up to gage the judge's reaction. He seemed to be as bored with the proceedings as she was so she returned to playing with the chain that connected her handcuffs to the leg irons.
"Your Honor, I must protest Agent Hotchner acting as the defendant's lawyer," the woman DA insisted, fairly bristling with indignation as she stood next to her chair. "He is her supervisor. This is clearly a conflict of interest."
Hotch stood calmly at their table and directed his comments directly to the judge. "Yes, "I'm Agent Prentiss' Unit Chief but I have taken a leave of absence from my position to represent her. I will not be using any of the Bureau's resources to aid me in her defense."
"He's an FBI agent. What experience does he have in the courtroom?" she countered.
"I was a Federal Prosecutor for ten years before joining the Bureau." He arched an eyebrow at her. "And still an active member of the bar. I do believe that makes me qualified to act as Prentiss' legal counsel," he said smoothly.
"Your—"
"I've heard enough," the judge declared, interrupting the two lawyers. "I want to hear from the person most affected by this. Miss Prentiss?"
Emily's head shot up. "Yes, Your Honor?" she asked, rising to her feet and standing at attention.
He locked a stern eye on her. "Do you have any objections to Agent Hotchner representing you now and at your future trial?"
She glanced briefly at her boss. "None at all, Sir," she said with a shake of her head. "My previous lawyer didn't have my best interests in mind. All he wanted to do was to plea out the case. With Agent Hotchner, I know he has my back and that he will defend me to the best of his abilities."
"That's good enough for me," the judge announced. "Your motion is denied, Counselor." The woman DA made a frustrated face at his ruling.
"Your Honor," Hotch directed to the judge. "At this time my client does not wish to waive her right to a speedy trial and requests that a prelim be held as soon as possible."
The judge eyeballed him. "Are you sure you want to do that? Most defense lawyers prefer to go directly to trial."
"Yes, Sir. I do."
He shrugged and consulted his calendar. "The prelim will be two weeks from today."
The judge pounded the gavel once, stood up and exited the courtroom. The fuming Assistant DA, after casting a glare at the defense table, followed his example.
"Well said, Emily," Hotch said with a small smile.
"It's the truth," she said honestly.
He started to gather up his papers. "Now that we got this out of the way, we can finally get a good look at your case."
"It's about time," she stated as the bailiff came over to take custody of her. He took her by the arm and began to steer her to the door.
"Agreed. I'll see you back at the jail."
"I'll be there. I'm always there," she said with a nod then let the bailiff lead her out of the courtroom.
As he watched her shuffle through the door, Hotch noted several subtle changes in Emily. When she had entered the courtroom earlier, an air of defeat hung about her. She must have assumed the judge would have barred him from being her lawyer and forcing her to hire another one. Another lawyer she couldn't trust. Now she moved with her shoulders a little straighter and he caught a certain a look in her eyes. It was a glimmer of hope.
At the same time Emily was suffering through an unplanned court hearing, the rest of the team was walking reluctantly through the glass doors of the BAU. None of them had wanted to leave Emily in her greatest hour of need, but Strauss had left them no choice. It had been come back immediately or don't bother to return. All four were quite willing to put their jobs on the line to help their troubled friend, but they also knew Emily wouldn't want them to do that. So they didn't want to add to her guilt and had caught the red eye from Massachusetts to DC.
Penelope was the first one to greet them. "Be warned," she hissed in a loud whisper. "The Dragon Lady is on the warpath."
Before any of them had a chance to comment, Strauss entered behind them. "Conference room. Now," she ordered.
They all exchanged wary glances with each other before following the Section Chief. While they silently took their seats, Strauss moved to the head of the table and assumed a defensive posture. Her arms were crossed and she wore a deep frown. She pinned each person with her hard stare before speaking.
"Let me make this perfectly clear. The Prentiss debacle is off limits. I don't want to see or hear that any one of you is working her case on the side. It is a conflict of interest nor shall it ever be a BAU case." She paused for any protests.
When there were none, she continued. "Agent Prentiss is not our concern. As of this morning, she is no longer a member of this team."
That got a reaction. Everyone started talking at once, though Derek's protest was the loudest of all. "You fired her?" he demanded, his jaw and fists clenched in anger.
"No," Strauss said, locking her steely gaze on him. Derek didn't flinch. "She has been suspended pending the outcome of her trial. Afterwards her employment will most likely be terminated."
"So Prentiss is screwed even if she is found innocent? That's a load of crap," he growled.
"No one would trust or come to us if we kept on an agent who had been tried for murder even if he or she were found innocent. Everyone would assume we had pulled strings to get them off."
Dave shook his head in disappointment. "That's just politics, Erin."
"You care more about the Bureau's image than you do about the welfare of a member of your own staff," JJ said coolly. Reid and Penelope nodded in agreement.
Strauss glared at her. "Agent Prentiss brought this down upon herself by killing a man in cold blood." She turned her attention to the senior profiler. "Agent Rossi, you will be in charge of the team while Agent Hotchner is on a leave of absence and off pursuing this folly."
She glanced at Derek. "I was going to give the job to Agent Morgan since he did a fine job leading this team when Agent Hotchner temporarily stepped down. But I can see that he is too emotionally involved and not thinking clearly."
"I will be expecting daily progress reports," she said to Dave who nodded.
Her eyes made their way around the table, hopping from face to face. "I will be monitoring each of you very closely. It's time to focus on the people who need our help and not on the ones who don't. Now get to work." With a curt nod to everyone, the Section Chief headed for the door.
"At least Hotch is on Emily's side and is watching her back," JJ muttered softly.
Strauss froze in the doorway and slowly turned around. "And that could lead to his downfall as well." She sent them one last glare before exiting the conference room.
The team sat in silence for several minutes, waiting to see if Strauss might reappear. When she didn't, they released the collective breaths they were holding and glanced worriedly at each other.
"She thinks Emily is guilty," Penelope said angrily.
"That she does," Dave said with a nod.
"And she's not going to lift a finger to help her," Reid stated sadly.
"No she isn't," Dave agreed. "Morgan, do you still have the key to Prentiss' house?"
Penelope raised her hand. "Actually I have it. I went over last night to set up all the computers we're going to need. I wanted to be prepared when Hotch called."
"Good idea," he said in approval. Dave glanced at each other. "Shall we meet at Emily's place at six? That gives Hotch plenty of time to review the evidence with her." Everyone nodded in agreement.
"But what do we do in the meantime?" Reid asked.
Dave stood up with a wry smile. "It's business as usual."
The mysterious Suit was sitting on a bench outside the courtroom, idly pretending to read the newspaper. He had heard from his source that Emily Prentiss was making an unscheduled appearance before the judge. He knew she had been offered a deal, making him to wonder if she was going to accept it, then he quickly dismissed it. From his intensive research on the agent, he knew she wouldn't take responsibility for his crime. Instead, she would fight tooth and nail to clear her name. Of course that wasn't going to happen. The frame up he had built against her was rock solid. In the end she was going to be found guilty and sent away for life. Even the lawyer she had fired knew she didn't have a leg to stand on.
Since the hearing was closed to the public, he had no idea what was going on. All Suit could do was to wait and see what the lawyers said outside the courtroom. It still amazed him how much could be learned by eavesdropping on the conversations conducted in the hallowed corridors of the courthouse. His patience was soon rewarded. A pissed off Assistant DA stormed out of the courtroom and whipped out her cell phone.
"The judge denied my motion," she spat into the instrument. "He's still her lawyer."
Suit's eyebrows went up slightly at that. Emily Prentiss has a new lawyer already? She only fired the other one yesterday. Her mother must have pulled some strings to get one here that fast. I wonder who it is? He went back to his eavesdropping.
"Yes, I plan on doing that. He has more influence with the defendant than the previous lawyer had." She nodded in agreement to whatever was being said on the other end then hung up.
Now he was definitely curious to who was her new legal representative. The door of the courtroom opened and Aaron Hotchner stepped out, briefcase in hand. Unbidden his eyebrows shot up even higher. Her boss is her new lawyer? That's a new twist. He had been expecting a high power defense attorney in a three-piece suit, not a stodgy FBI agent.
"Agent Hotchner," the Assistant DA called out.
He stopped and turned around. "Yes?" he asked politely.
"I wanted to let you know that the deal is still on the table. Murder two, thirty years with a chance of parole in fifteen. I'm sure—"
"The answer is no," Hotch said, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "My client prefers to take her chances with the jury and I concur. See you it court, Counselor." He gave a curt nod, turned his back on her and walked away to keep his appointment with Emily at the jail.
The Assistant DA stared at his departing back before spinning on her high heels and headed off in the opposite direction. Only then did Suit allow a smile creep across his face. That had been highly entertaining and informative. Her Unit Chief acting as her lawyer. She must be really desperate to convince him to do it, he thought in amusement. Suit was perfectly happy with that. Agent Hotchner's inexperience will only get Emily Prentiss convicted and off to rot in prison faster. Still chuckling to himself, he rose to his feet and head outside to inform his employer of the latest developments.
Hotch idly drummed his fingers on the table in the visitation room while he waited for the guard to escort Emily in. The appearance before the judge had gone a lot better than he had thought it would. He had honestly thought the judge would agree with the Assistant DA that it was a conflict of interest and bar him from representing Emily. But her honest answer to his question had convinced him not to. Hotch had also been surprised at how easily he had slipped back into the role of a lawyer. The door across from him opened and a young Hispanic guard stepped through with Emily. As always her hands were cuffed to her waist. He guided her over to the chair.
"You can uncuff her," he ordered and waited to see how the guard would react.
So far all the guards he had encountered have been hostile to both of them and had refused to remove the restraints. Cruz didn't bat an eye and pulled out his keys. While he unlocked the handcuffs, Hotch took that time to take a closer look at Emily. Being locked up in jail for almost three days were starting to take its toll on her. There were dark circles under her eyes from poor sleep and it looked like she had lost a little weight. Her complexion was paler than normal and this morning in court he had thought her voice had sounded a little rough as if she was coming down with something.
"Just hit the buzzer when you're ready to leave and I'll get her," Cruz said when he was done.
"Could we have some water?" Hotch asked.
"Sure," he said with a nod and exited, the door locking behind him.
"Hey," Emily said as she sat down and rubbed her wrists.
"Hey," he said and cocked his head to one side. "Are you feeling all right?"
She frowned slightly. "Yes. Why are you asking?"
"I noticed that your voice is sounding a little scratchy like you're catching a cold."
Emily sighed and rubbed the space between her eyes. "I've been fighting a sinus cold since we've been here. And now that I'm in jail, I don't have access to any cold medication so its not getting better."
Hotch nodded. "I'll make arrangements for a doctor to come in and see you."
"Hotch, you don't have—" she started to protest.
"Prentiss, the last thing you need right now is to get sick," he overrode her objection.
She blew out a breath of frustration and stared out the barred window. "Fine," she conceded.
"Good," Hotch said.
Officer Cruz reentered the room and the two occupants fell silent. He set two bottles of water down in the middle of the table then slipped back out. Hotch took one for himself and slid the other one over to Emily.
"Drink," he instructed. "You need to stay hydrated."
Emily shot him a look, but did as she was told. She picked up the bottle, unscrewed the cap and took a deep drink. The cold water felt good on her scratchy throat. When she had downed half, he attempted to lighten the mood in the tiny room.
"So how are the accommodations?" he casually asked.
Her eyes drifted up to his and a small smile formed on her lips. She knew what he was trying to do. He was giving her a chance to vent some of her frustrations in the best well she knew how. Emily set the bottle down and turned it slowly.
"Not bad," she said sarcastically. "I have a place to rest my head though it's uncomfortable as hell. I get three square meals a day that are unrecognizable. I don't have to worry about what to wear though I'm not a fan of stripes. And I got the whole cell block to myself, but I'm not allowed to go anywhere."
"Anything else?"
Emily thought for a moment. "Oh! I got to take a shower today and I spent forty minutes outside breathing in the fresh air and soaking up the sunshine in a space not much bigger than a dog run with razor wire fencing."
"Sounds wonderful," Hotch said drolly.
"You should try it sometime," she suggested with a smirk.
The two agents looked at each other across the table. "Thank you," Emily said softly. "I needed that."
"You're welcomed," he said with a nod. "Feeling more centered?"
"Yes."
"Then lets get started on your defense."
Hotch retrieved his briefcase from where it rested on the floor next to his chair. He pulled out a thick file, placed it in front of him and set the case to one side.
"Did you have a chance to look at it?" Emily asked, eyes locked on the file. She didn't like the thickness of it.
"No," he answered. "I wanted to examine it with you. Before we do, lets quickly review what Morrissey said he had on you."
Emily nodded. "He said they had my blood and fingerprints at the scene. There was video of me leaving the hotel the night of the murder. And supposedly there is a witness who said I bought a gun off of him."
"Right," Hotch said. "They also executed search warrants on your hotel room, the room's phone and your cell phone."
She snorted in annoyance. "They're not going to find anything. I never called him nor would I be stupid enough to bring bloody clothes and murder weapon back to my room."
Hotch consulted the file. "They didn't. The gun was found disassembled in various garbage bins five blocks from the hotel. It was wiped clean and it was a ballistic match to the slugs pulled out of Hill. Now a search of his phone did show a call placed to your room at 7:15 pm. And it lasted approximately two minutes."
Emily shook her head. "I never got it. The room phone never rang the entire time I was there. Maybe there was a glitch in the system and the call went to a different room."
"I've have Garcia look into that," Hotch pulled out a legal pad and made a note of it.
"Does it say when he died?" she asked. "Nobody has told me what day I supposedly waltzed into his place and gunned him down."
He flipped through the file until he found a copy of the autopsy report. "It says Saturday night somewhere between 8 and 11 pm. Three rounds were found in the body. One to the shoulder and two to the heart."
She frowned. "Can I see that?"
"Sure," he agreed and slid the report across the table.
Emily turned it around and studied the picture of the dead man who was making her life a living hell from the grave. "If I had fired the gun, all three rounds would have been to the heart. I wouldn't have shot him in the shoulder; there was no reason to. How do they think it went down?"
Hotch frowned as he read. "According to Detective Morrissey, you went there with every intention of killing him. You shot him in the shoulder to incapacitate him and then moved in for the kill. Then you erased any evidence of presence and left."
"Apparently I didn't do a very good job," Emily wisecracked, tossing the report on the table in disgust. "I still managed to leave behind my fingerprints and blood."
"Apparently," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"And where was I dumb enough to leave my prints?"
"On a glass that rolled underneath the couch. And there was a bloody tissue in the trash."
"Huh." Emily crossed her arms and stared moodily out the barred window.
She didn't like the way the evidence seemed to building up against her. Whoever had framed her was very good so that meant they had to be better and find the minute flaws in his plan. Nothing was perfect; there were always imperfections.
Then a thought occurred to her and she slowly turned back to him. "What night was he murdered on again?"
"Saturday evening."
Emily leaned forward, her eyes bright with eagerness. "I didn't leave the hotel that night. I came back with you guys and went straight to bed. My head was killing me so I took a couple of cold pills and they knocked me out."
Hotch dug through the file and produced a picture. "They have a photo of you taken from the surveillance cameras showing you exiting the hotel at 7:20," he said with a puzzled frown.
"But I did leave the hotel Friday night around that time to run out to the all night drugstore to get something for my cold," she said poking the table with her finger to emphasize her point.
He picked up the photo and studied the time stamp. "You think he hacked into the hotel's security system and changed the date to make it look like you left Saturday night?"
Emily shrugged. "Anything is possible. The drugstore should have a record of my purchase. Sinus medication is a controlled substance. You have to buy it directly from the Pharmacist. You also have to show your driver's license and sign the agreement before they will give it to you."
"Unless he hacked into their system too," he pointed out, hating to be the spoilsport.
She sighed and dropped her gaze to scarred tabletop. She reached out and ran a thumb over a particularly deep gouge. "I don't even want to think about that." The enthusiasm she had felt when she had thought they had a breakthrough faded into frustration.
Hotch felt the same way. "I'll still have Garcia check it out," he told her, making another note.
"If he did, I still have the receipt and the box. She might be able to trace the lot number back to that particular store. Plus she has my permission to access my credit card account. Both would create reasonable doubt." Emily sniffed and absently rubbed her nose.
"Good idea. Hacking a major credit card company is a lot more difficult than hacking into a single store," he agreed.
He looked up from the legal pad, frowned, reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Here," he said, holding it out to her.
She frowned at the white cloth he was holding. "Huh?"
"Your nose. It's bleeding."
Her eyes widened. "It's what? Oh shit!" she exclaimed, snatching the handkerchief from his hand and pressing it to her bloody nose.
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.
Emily waved off his concern. "It's no big deal. I sometimes get nosebleeds when I have a sinus cold though this one could be caused by the stress I'm under."
Hotch's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Have you been having them all week?"
She looked at him in confusion. "Uh…yes. They've been hitting me at night."
"That's how the tissue with your blood ended up at the crime scene," he mused. "I couldn't figure that one out."
Emily's confusion deepened then it slowly changed to anger when she fully understood what Hotch was saying.
"The bastard was in my hotel room."
Hope you enjoyed it. Like I said there was a lot going on. Strauss being Strauss. Emily and Hotch discovering the real killer had been in her hotel room. Intriguing I do believe and hope. Do come back next week what I have in store for our agents. Until then.
