Yani: Hey all! I actually know exactly how this is going to end, I just have to write it out lol. Okay, please let me know if you have any suggestions or critics by leaving a review bellow :D If you have written any fics yourselves that you want me to check out, please let me know! Enjoy!
Chapter 6
"Garcia, did you hear me?" Hotch asked into his phone, which was on speaker. Emily was in the passenger seat, as Hotch himself drove.
"Yes, sorry sir, I'm on it," said Garcia as she typed away. "Alright, Daniel Ivy Foyet, eleven years old, born in Boston to a mother Sandra Ivy and father…omg."
"What Garcia?" He said in barely a whisper. His stomach clenched as he dreaded the answer. "G. Foyet. That's in the father space." Hotch swallowed.
"Anyway…it says here he's lived in, oh my goodness, twenty nine foster homes in the past eleven years. His mother died in childbirth and the father…nothing, nothing about him at all. Daniel was taken to do some testing when he was nine, and…has a genius I.Q. of 158. After the murder he was taken to have a psych eval done on him, and he passed, might I say, beautifully. Why are we asking?"
"Hotch wanted to know." Said Prentiss, as she leaned toward the phone. "He thinks that because of his last name-"
"I think I have a legitimate theory." He snapped, as he turned to Emily. "How did we not know Foyet had a son?"
"We still don't know!" exclaimed Prentiss, looking at Hotch. "And even if they are related doesn't mean they have anything in common! They probably wouldn't have ever even met! You're. Not. Thinking. Straight. Aaron." He looked a little hurt, after those last five words. She hated it when they fought, and she knew he did too. He stared at her for a moment, and then spoke in a gruff tone.
"Garcia, I want you to cross-reference Daniel Foyet's name with those murdered. See if you can find any connections at all."
"Alrighty..." there were a few moments of silence and the sounds of typing. "Ok, I just found something! Daniel Foyet was in Mickey Barker's sixth grade class, and he lived two blocks away from Tommy Frier in one of his foster homes. The mailman's route was one that passed by another one of his foster homes."
"Like father, like son." whispered Hotch. "If he's a genius he could easily tricked his way into passing the psych eval."
"There's no conclusive evidence…" said Prentiss, but she didn't sound very sure of herself.
"And sir," said Garcia, swallowing hard. "As you know, I've been keeping up with the local news, to look out for any new murders and such, and one just came up that fits the criteria. I'm looking at the security footage now, and there's a boy that looks a lot like Daniel Foyet in there. There's another man and he shoots the store clerk, and he makes the boy sit in the corner. Then they talk (I can't hear what they're saying because there's no sound)." Garcia's voice was speeding up as she talked. "And he has the gun pointed at the boy. Then the man takes out knife, and then…he just gives it to the boy. I can't see what the boy does to the store clerk because he goes behind a counter but I can tell it isn't pretty. Then the two of them leave together…It doesn't make any sense. And then they exit and I can't see anything else. But Hotch, Oh, Hotch," said Garcia, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"What Garcia?" said Hotch breathlessly.
"In the police report," she began. "There's a picture they took of the window outside of the shop and…and."
"Spit it out, Garcia." Said Hotch.
"On the window, there's a note written in blood. It says 'I'm back, Aaron. No more deals.' And it has two eyes of providence drawn in blood."
"Two?" asked Prentiss
"One for him, and one for his son." Said Hotch through gritted teeth.
"I texted you the address." Whispered Garcia.
"Let's go."
