TICKET TO HEAVEN CHAPTER EIGHT

Madness is to think o f too many things in succession too fast, or of one thing too exclusively.—VOLTAIRE

Hotch walked it out, from the POV of the UNSUB, taking the UNSUB's steps, trying to think the UNSUB's thoughts. Prentiss and Harris walked it out from the other two players point's of view, ending with Hotch miming shooting Harris. They walked through it several times, from several different scenarios. But Hotch knew the truth—something in what they were doing was just…off.

But as he placed his left forearm around Prentiss's neck, simulating a choke-hold, he couldn't put his finger on just what it was. Her hair brushed his chin and he sighed, before taking a deliberate step away.

It would be all too easy to lose his train of thought if he let himself concentrate on IDing that damned scent she'd used again.

The small group gathered around him expectantly, waiting for his opinion. It still surprised him sometimes that he was the leader of this strange band. Somehow that didn't always seem right, either. He shoved those thoughts away to focus on the task at hand.

"Access to the home was too easy." Hotch said to the group gathered around him. "Lacked a challenge."

"Ok. Rita and Ted, like ninety percent of the occupants of this area, probably left the door unlocked." Harris said, and Hotch heard the obvious frustration, confusion, and impatience in the man's voice. "What does that mean?"

"Our UNSUB obviously likes a challenge." Dave said. "Ted Jones was a big threat, not the average victim."

Hotch nodded, just as his telephone rang. "Hotchner. Morgan, what do you need?"

"Hotch, man. The Webster's point of contact with the UNSUB didn't start in the house, it ended there." Morgan said in Hotch's ear. "We found evidence near the end of the Webster's' drive that indicated a minor traffic collision, and the crime scene guys confirm the car had most likely suffered a collision recently. What's more—they found gunshot residue on the interior edges of the car's grill."

"What does that mean?" Hotch asked, aware of both Dave and Prentiss moving closer. He quickly switched his cell onto speaker.

"It gets odder, man. Michael Webster's blood was found on the undercarriage of the car."

"The undercarriage?" Prentiss asked, "How did it get there?"

"I don't know, but from what preliminary reports are saying—it looks like the car was driven through Webster's blood, and some splashed, hitting the undercarriage."

Only Hotch was close enough to see the slight flinching of Prentiss's eyelids, the way she swallowed quickly. Then the mask shuttered down.

"A significant amount?" Hotch asked.

"A considerable amount." Morgan added via speaker.

"I'm lost. What does this all mean?" Harris wrapped his hand around Prentiss's arm, pulled her slightly toward him. He took her coat from Dave's hand and held it for her to slip on.

Hotch felt like a jackass—her trembling had barely registered in his mind. It shamed him that this stranger was more in tune with a member of his team's needs than he was. "We don't know yet, but we need to find the Jones's car. Morgan—keep us informed."

"Will do, man. You all be careful up there." Morgan disconnected, and Hotch thought for a moment. "Ted's body was found in the hallway. And the crime scene reports indicated the floor had been washed of almost all but the smallest traces of blood. It's possible the amount of blood found was so small was because Ted's body had been moved."

"We need to consider the possibility that Ted was brought here and dumped, and that Rita's murder didn't happen in this house at all." Dave said, reaching out to help untangle the scarf hanging down Prentiss's back as he spoke. "What was exact TOD on both, again?"

"Four O'clock in the afternoon for Ted, that Wednesday." Prentiss said from beneath the knit material. The house was cold, the crime scene technicians having lowered the temperature setting to help preserve any biological evidence in the near two weeks since the crime had occurred. With her smaller frame, it was natural that Prentiss would be feeling the temperature more than the larger men. Hotch stepped closer, so that she was boxed in between him and Dave, with Harris behind her. It was an almost completely natural action, he would done the same for JJ without a second thought.

Still, he didn't miss the startled expression that flashed into her dark eyes before she looked back down at the autopsy report she clutched in one un-mittened hand. Had he never done something as simple for her, something as considerate as merely sharing a bit of body heat?

Did he honestly treat her that much differently than he did JJ or even Garcia? He hoped not, but it's possible he did. But JJ and Garcia had always come across as needing a bit more emotional support than Emily Prentiss ever had, so he probably did treat the younger two women a bit more…softly…than he did the one beside him.

Something else for him to consider. Later. "And for Rita Jones? What was her TOD?"

"Because she was dumped in what amounted to a three foot snow bank, the best guess was about twenty-four hours later." Prentiss answered. "Why?"

"I don't know. Something…just…" He said. "I think we need to confer with Morgan, JJ, and Reid. Harris, where was the Webster car found?"

"Up on Two-Bit Trail. Near the access point. Found it nearly three days after they found the wife's body." Harris said. "Why?"

The man had an annoying habit of always questioning. Hotch frowned before replying. "It was assumed after the second murders, I expect, that the UNSUB had taken the Webster's car and fled in it to the border, correct?"

"From what I understand that's what Taggart and his people believed. He's not real forthcoming. I had to basically force my way in to his investigation once my own stalled. He's a bit territorial." Harris shrugged.

No one misunderstood, they'd worked with enough local LEOs to understand. Harris was the exception rather than the norm. Hotch had played the game a thousand times, it was just part of it.

Harris ran one hand over his forehead, in a classic gesture of frustration. "We need to be heading back soon. I don't want us out on the trail after dark."

"I think we have everything we need here." Hotch looked toward Dave and Prentiss for confirmation. They both nodded. Then she paused. "Emily? Something we've forgotten?"

She looked at him oddly for a small moment, then he realized he'd slipped, called her by her first name. He looked away quickly, eyes catching the slightly amused gaze of Dave, before returning to her face. "The report said something about a series of odd impressions in the carpet in the master bedroom? Did you ever identify what exactly those impressions were?"

"No. You'll all need to see them for yourselves. None of us have a clue."