(A/N: LOL…like that cliff hanger there huh? I figure if CSI and Criminal Minds can do it to me, I can do it to my readers. It wasn't so bad huh? I mean I'm writing as quickly as I can. Here goes chapter 8. Still Reid's POV. Adreon…thanks a million. You give me the motivation I need to keep this going. Your reviews are a ton of help.)
Chapter 8: Clinging Tightly
"What'd you find," I said between breaths, having sprinted the length of the hallway to the room where the others had convened.
"Calm yourself sparky," Garcia said from a large monitor on the wall. "We weren't going to start without you."
"Thanks," I said catching my breath. "What did you find?"
"Well, when my other leads turned up zilch I decided to look deeper. I said to myself, self what would set this crazy off if not a recent tragedy. So I started to look a little less recent."
We watched the screen as Garcia unleashed a stream of typing and small windows started to open as if like magic.
"I opened the time frame to 36 months before the first disappearance and got this."
The pop ups stopped and a couple dozen windows were opened on the screen.
"Can we narrow this down a little," Hotch asked.
"Way ahead of you boss man," she said with a few more clicks and taps of her key board. "I ruled out those whose mothers were deceased or otherwise engaged and cross referenced with those living in areas near airports or airstrips. That leaves us with…" one last click, "her."
The suspense in the room was almost tangible. We all held our breath as a young girl's picture filled the screen.
"Dixie Cross," Garcia said her voice more serious. "Two and a half years ago Dixie and her mother Marcy were in a head on collision with a drunk driver. Dixie died on the scene and Marcy was considered in critical conditions. They finally got her stable, but she was in a coma."
"How long?" Prentiss asked.
"Until a week before the first kidnapping."
"She was in a coma for two and a half years?" Morgan gawked. "I didn't think they would keep you on life support that long."
"She wasn't on life support," Garcia corrected. "She was breathing on her own, had signs of normal brain activity, and with no family to make the decision they hospital couldn't take action."
"They're hit by a drunk driver," CSI Stokes says, "she's out for two and a half years and then what? She wakes up and they just send her home."
"According to her file she was undergoing grief counseling for the loss of her daughter but was deemed 'reasonably adjusted'."
"Reasonably adjusted," Grissom said, "five kidnappings and three murders doesn't sound like reasonable adjustment."
"My thoughts exactly," Garcia said.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here; we don't have any proof that Marcy Cross is the woman we're looking for."
Garcia cleared her throat.
"Not only does Marcy live a stones throw from Boulder City Municipal Airport, recent credit card purchases include a box of blonde hair dye, bought two hours after the twins were kidnapped."
"We need that address."
The wait seemed endless as we made the more than 25 mile drive to Boulder City. It was nearly half an hour of silence except for the wail of police sirens that surrounded us. Staring out across the landscape time seemed to catch up. The sun had been rising when our plane landed in Vegas and had set hours ago. The hours ran together in my sleeplessness and the day that we'd been there seemed like ages and moments at the same time.
As we neared our destination the sirens died and the flashing lights were extinguished. The motorcade came to a stop at the edge of the neighborhood and we all gathered for instructions.
"Okay," Hotch said taking charge. "Local PD has eyes on the house. They've spotted Caroline in the bedroom around the back of the house, but the unsub keeps moving from room to room. She appears to be agitated."
"Remember that the others were kept for two to three days," I said putting on my vest. "Day three for Caroline starts in a few hours. We need to get her out safely before the unsub does something reckless."
Captain Brass of the LVPD took over. "We'll divide up into three teams. Team one will hold the parameter. Marcy Cross is not to exit that house unaccompanied. Team two will be joined by Nick and Warrick. You will enter through the front of the house and intersect the suspect. Team three will accompany SSA's Reid and Prentiss. When the signal is given you will enter the house through the bedroom window secure the child. Understand? Alright, let's roll."
As the other teams took their positions Prentiss and I took our contingent of officers around the back of the house to the bedroom window.
Peaking inside, I saw Caroline sitting in the closet door twirling her newly dyed hair around her tiny finger.
"What's the location of the unsub?" I called over the radio.
"Be advised she in the kitchen," a voice answered.
"I'm initiating contact with Caroline. We don't want her scared when we rush in."
"Go ahead Reid," Hotch said, "just do it quietly."
I tapped softly on the window. Caroline's gaze snapped in my direction.
I could see she was already scared.
"Someone give me a boost."
"What?" one of the officers asked.
"I need to sign to her," I said. "She has to be able to see my hands clearly. Give me a boost."
The officer went down on one knee allowing me to step up on the ledge his other knee created.
When Caroline could clearly see me, I made the letter 'C' with my right hand and held it over my heart.
She blinked in confusion.
In quick choppy sentences, I signed that Alex had sent me to help. 'Loud noise' I signed, 'not afraid'.
She signed back 'okay' and covered her ears.
"Caroline's ready."
Just then there was loud commotion. Even prepared Caroline jumped.
Shouts filled the night air as the CSIs Stokes and Brown lead the team into the kitchen.
"On the ground," Stokes yelled. "On the ground now."
"What are you doing here? I didn't do anything," the woman cried. "Why are you in my house?"
"On the ground, ma'am and you won't get hurt."
"They've got her distracted," Hotch said. "Move, move."
One of the officers pried open the window.
"Come here Caroline," I whispered. "Run."
She shook her said, tears streaming down her face as she lifted her left wrist. Around her tiny wrist was a plastic zip tie pulled tight enough to stay in place. Running from her wrist to the bed was a length of rope.
"She's tied up," I said, pulling myself up through the open window. "I need a knife," I said once I was inside. "Give me a knife."
The nearest officer reached to his belt and handed me a large knife.
As I crept across the room the shouting continued outside.
"I have to go to my daughter." She screamed. "You're scaring her. Let me go to my daughter."
"That's not your daughter Marcy."
"What do you mean she's not my daughter? Get out of my house and leave us alone."
I reached Caroline and started to saw away at the rope.
"Not another step Marcy." CSI Brown warned. "Down on the ground, NOW!"
"Dixie!" She screamed.
Scooping Caroline up, I ran for the window, but the door flew open before I could get her out.
"Who the hell are you? What are you doing with my baby?"
"She's not Dixie." I said. "She's not your daughter. Dixie is dead, Marcy."
"You're lying," she shouted. "You're just trying to take her from me. Give me my daughter back. Come here Dixie. Come to Mommy, sweetie."
She threw open her arms as if she actually expected Caroline to reach for her.
Caroline simply tightened her hold on me.
"It's true Marcy," CSI Stokes said, "Dixie died two and a half years ago. I'm sorry but that is not your daughter."
"Liars," she whispered through her sobs. "LIARS!!" She jumped for the knife I'd left by the bed.
I shielded Caroline as three shots rang out.
When it was over, CSI Stokes stood shaking over Marcy Cross' motionless body.
Moments later I carried Caroline out of the house. Grissom met me as I reached the waiting ambulance.
"Is she ok?" he said sounding more like a worried family member than an investigator.
"She's fine," I said, Caroline still clinging tightly too me. "She's scared but she doesn't look hurt."
"Go with her in the ambulance. I'll call ahead and let Anna and Greg know you're coming."
As the doors of the ambulance shut behind us the paramedics tried to take Caroline.
She cried in protest.
"I'll just hold her," I said, sensing she wasn't willing to let go just yet.
After some persuading they agreed and secured a safety belt around us both.
A few moments later I looked down to find Caroline fast asleep twirling her fingers in my hair.
(Not quite done yet, but we're getting there and at least Caroline is safe now. Sorry about the mushiness of that last line. I just think that's the cutest thing ever. Review please…you're running out of chances here.)
