A/N: Hey there-don't forget the Profiler's Choice Awards nominations! See the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum for details. Also, there's a Halloween Challenge, and a Christmas Fic Exchange coming up. They're super fun, please join us!
And... Here's Chapter Eight. I'm sorry I'm so slow with updates, sigh. But, please review! Thank you to all of you who are sticking with me and to everyone who's just started reading!
Seds
Spencer led Morgan to his room. They stood at the door; Spencer raised a hand and knocked. When no one answered, Spencer reached for the knob, then turned and looked at Morgan, reluctance in his face.
"Can't we just go?"
Morgan tipped his head and gave him a reassuring smile. "No, now, you're going to want your stuff. Come on, I'll help you. This won't take long."
"Okay." Spencer took a breath, opened the door and stepped in. Morgan followed and did a sweep of the small room, home to two teenage boys.
He thought he could understand why Spencer preferred a jail cell.
There were no windows. The walls were painted a murky yellow color, and the floor was covered in worn gray carpet that held a decidedly funky odor. One side was cluttered with action figures, plastic models in various stages of completion, and piles of clothes strewn over the unmade iron bed. Pages torn from men's magazines were taped to the wall.
The other side-Spencer's, Morgan deduced-was neat, with no personal items on display other than several stacks of books and one framed photograph on top of a cheap chest of drawers in the corner. Morgan went straight over to it and picked it up.
It featured a pretty blonde woman and a nine- or ten-year-old Spencer. He was wearing thick dorky glasses and sported a bad haircut, but he had a happy smile on his face, and was contentedly leaning against the woman. Her arms were lovingly draped around his shoulders, and she was smiling, too.
"This your mom?" It occurred to Morgan that Spencer had not once mentioned his mother.
"Uh-huh."
"She's pretty." Morgan purposely used the present tense, and waited to see if Spencer would correct him. He didn't.
"Yeah."
Morgan gave him a few seconds to follow that up, but Spencer had begun jamming clothes from the chest into a backpack.
"You haven't told me anything about her."
"She... doesn't live with us, anymore."
"Oh?"
Spencer looked up. "She has psychological issues. Dad couldn't deal with her, and he sent her away. She never came back." He shrugged and opened another dresser drawer.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I hear from her pretty often, we write letters, and she calls once in a while."
"How long since you've seen her?"
"Three and a half years. We almost had my dad convinced to take me for a visit last spring-she's living in Las Vegas-but, all this happened, and, well..." He gestured at his belly and sighed.
"I see." Morgan wanted to ask more questions, but Spencer seemed done with the conversation. He watched the boy awkwardly drop down on all fours in order to poke around under the bed. "Need help?"
"No, I've got it." He brought out a second pair of shoes, struggled to his feet and continued packing.
"Well, then, I'll let you get on with it. I'm going to make a couple of calls."
"All right."
Morgan stepped out into the hallway, took out his cell phone, and punched the number for Garcia's speed dial.
"Hi there, hot cake," she answered.
"Hey, baby girl. So, how's that DNA test coming?"
"You must be psychic, in addition to all your other super powers-I was just about to call you. Got it back five minutes ago, and it's negative for your boy."
Morgan was surprised at the way relief flooded through his system. "Yes. That's fantastic. You sending that to the Palmer sheriff's department?"
"It's three keystrokes away. They should have it as... of... now."
"Great, thank you. You really are a miracle-worker, you know that?"
Garcia chuckled. "It's what I do, man-candy. I'll expect massive groveling at my feet, and chocolate-chip muffins upon your return. Make that the big ones, too, not the teensy kind."
"You got it, well, the muffins, anyway. So, about that DNA-did we get a hit in the database?"
"Unfortunately, no. The sample matches the DNA recovered from the other two victims, so it looks like we're three for three with one baddie, but that's all we've got at the moment."
"Okay. I better see what Hotch wants to do."
"Yep, he's waiting to hear from you. Well, I'll talk at you later, I've got some important techno-stuff to do."
"More miracles?"
"Nah, just every-day brilliance. See you, lover."
"Later." Morgan clicked off, then called Hotch.
"Hotchner."
"Hey, Hotch, just talked to Garcia, and the kid's off the hook."
"Good. Has he remembered anything more about the murder?"
"No, not yet. But-someone pretending to be his father made a threatening phone call to him at the jail this morning, which means I'm not leaving him here alone, even though he's been cleared. I have him in my custody."
"All right. Hold on-I just got the report from Garcia." Hotch was silent for a moment as he read over the new information, then he spoke again. "Since the evidence implicates the same unsub in all three murders, I'm accepting this as a BAU case. We'll get on the jet and join you. Can you pick us up at the airfield?"
"Sure, I've got the use of the sheriff's vehicle."
"All right. Give us an hour and a half."
"Will do."
"And, Morgan-what's the boy like? Is he cooperating?"
"Yeah. He's a good kid, just scared and freaked out, especially now that he's been threatened. I'm hoping we can help him recover his memories."
"I hope so." Hotch was silent for a minute, then added, "There's one good thing about that threat, though."
"What's that?"
"If the killer's focused on Reid, he may be diverted from hunting his next victim."
Morgan looked back into the room where Spencer was stuffing books into a travel bag. His long hair was hanging in his face as he ungracefully worked around the protrusion of his belly, and Morgan was struck by how vulnerable his awkwardness made him appear. "Yeah, I guess that's one way to look at it. Thanks, Hotch."
Hotch unceremoniously clicked off, and Morgan put away his phone, then went back into the room.
"Okay, kid-two things. One, the DNA report came back. You're all clear."
Spencer audibly exhaled. "Finally. Does Mueller know?"
"He will, as soon as he checks his messages."
"Good. I hope it ruins his day. What's the other thing?"
"We've got a change of plans. We're going to pick up the rest of the BAU team at the airfield in a little while." Morgan noticed Spencer's expression clouded and he absently ran his hand over his belly. Morgan frowned.
"What?"
"Nothing." Spencer sighed and went back to his packing.
"You worried about meeting the team?"
Spencer shook his head, but Morgan could tell from his suddenly closed-in posture that that wasn't the case.
"It's okay, kid. They know you've been cleared of any suspicion. As of now, you're a witness, and-"
"And, they're going to ask me a lot of questions which I won't be able to answer. And..."
"And, what?"
"And, they're going to look at me like I'm a freak, just like everybody else does."
"No, Spencer. These are professionals, they've dealt with far worse things than-" Morgan didn't have to see the way Spencer's eyes narrowed to know that his words were ill-chosen. He felt it as soon as they came out of his mouth. Spencer gave him a sarcastic smile.
"Far worse things than some genetically-mutated aberration with a baby in his belly? Yeah, I imagine so. That's good, that's great, now I feel perfectly normal."
Morgan closed his eyes. "I didn't mean it that way."
"I know. I-"
Morgan watched Spencer fight back the wave of anger that had risen in his throat. It took a few seconds, but the next time he spoke, the bitter tone was gone. "I know you didn't. It's just that, your team is trying to catch a killer and they think I know something, but I don't." He raised his eyes to Morgan's. "I just feel so damn helpless, for myself, for my baby-but also for that lady that died, and I want to help them catch that man, but... What if I really didn't see anything useful? Or, what if I can never remember?" He stared into Morgan's eyes, and for a moment, the agent stared back. He could see the depth of intelligence the boy's dark eyes held, and the courage, as well as the fear. Then, Spencer spoke softly.
"You can't protect me forever, Agent Morgan."
"Look, you saw something, or this creep wouldn't be threatening you. And, you'll remember. We're going to help you do that."
"But, what if he gets to me before your team finds him?"
"Not gonna happen, kid." Morgan went over to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You wait until you meet my team. They're good-the best. We'll find him, and we'll put him away. So, don't worry, okay?"
Spencer broke his gaze and took a deep breath. He nodded.
"'Atta boy. Now, we need to get moving. You about ready?"
Spencer's backpack and the over-filled travel bag were zipped up and ready to go. He glanced around once more and noticed the picture of him and his mother on the dresser. He retrieved it, slid it into his backpack, then nodded. "Yeah, that's everything. Let's go."
"Yes, sir." Morgan grinned at him and picked up the larger bag, then they headed for Mrs. Epstein's office to give her the release form.
"Knock-knock?" Morgan tapped on the door frame of Epstein's office. She waved them in, took the form he handed her and looked it over. She made a disapproving "hmph" sound before nodding.
"All right, so, you're free to go." She looked at Morgan. "I hope you know what you're doing. I wouldn't want to tangle with the senior Mr. Reid."
Now it was Morgan's turn to "hmph." "Yeah, well. Can't say I'm too worried, seeing as he saw fit to take a nice ocean cruise and didn't even bother to let his pregnant son know about it."
The woman knit her brows. "Ocean cruise? What are you talking about? He just called here."
Morgan had already started toward the door, and he stopped in his tracks and turned back with a frown. "He did? What did he say?"
"I didn't speak to him myself, but Mattie said he was checking on Spencer's whereabouts. She said he confirmed that you were taking him out of our care and, strangely enough, he seemed to be all right with that."
Morgan glanced at Spencer. The worried look had returned to his face, and Morgan felt a tug of concern, himself. "Okay, thanks. I'm going to have a word with Mattie, if that's all right."
"Certainly. Goodbye, Spencer. Do try to cooperate with Agent Morgan."
Spencer rolled his eyes. "I'll try."
They went to the front desk, where Mattie was singing off-key along with whatever song was coming through a pair of earbuds she had stuck in her ears. She looked up when Morgan stopped to lean on the desk, and pulled one bud away so she could hear.
"Yes?"
"I understand someone calling himself Spencer's father called earlier."
"Uh-huh, William Reid, he called a little while ago."
"May I have a look at the house phone?"
The girl put the telephone in front of Morgan, and he ran through the LED display of the calls record. "Have you taken any other calls since?"
"Just one a couple of minutes ago."
Morgan went back and found the caller number in question, and gestured at it to Spencer. "Recognize that number?"
Spencer shook his head. Morgan took a piece of note paper and jotted down the number. "I'll check with Mueller and see if this is the same one that the guy used earlier. Thanks, young lady. Come on, Spencer, let's get out of here."
They left the reception area and stepped out onto the porch; as Spencer had predicted, a none-too-gentle rain was coming down, and judging by the puddles that had already formed, it had been going on for a while. Morgan got out his phone and called the sheriff, then looked carefully around the area, but he didn't see anything unusual. He turned back to Spencer and said, "It's the same number. Whoever called, it wasn't your dad."
The two exchanged thoughtful looks, then Morgan took out his keys and pointed the fob at Mueller's SUV, unlocking it. He held up a hand, indicating Spencer should stay on the porch, then walked a broad circle around the vehicle, looking for tracks or indications of tampering. He saw nothing, then waved for Spencer to come ahead. He ran through the rain and threw his bags in the backseat.
Now both dripping wet, they got in the car, and Morgan started the engine. "Okay, we're going to get on the highway as fast as possible. Help me keep an eye out, in case somebody starts to follow us."
Spencer nodded, feeling a curious burst of excitement. Somehow, leaving the Home and out in the rain with Morgan, he felt free, and he wasn't afraid anymore. He swiped the raindrops off of his face, pulled the seat belt over and around the swell of his belly, then ran his hands over the bulge that was his baby daughter. I think we're going to be okay, little one.
It was strange given the circumstances, but it was the first time that thought had occurred to him since he'd discovered that he was pregnant.
Neither he nor Morgan saw the black sedan parked a half-mile up the hill overlooking the Home. The man at the wheel put down his binoculars, started the engine, and began negotiating the slippery unpaved road hidden deep within the heavy woods.
