A.N: hey everyone I know updates are kinda slow here lately but with school finals and work being s bear it's been a hard go. However with school finishing up hopefully work doesn't get over loaded and I can write more. This chapter is a bit more case driven than anything else. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted and added to favorites you guys are awesome and now on with the show.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter nine
"Please have a seat James," Emily stated keeping her voice as neutral as possible.
"Why am I here?" he asked frighten, but trying to show otherwise, bright green eyes searching for a way out.
"James," JJ began coming to sit next to the young boy, "we need to ask a few questions of you."
He inclined his head, but nothing more. He knew what would happen if he talked and he didn't want it to come to pass.
"Do you remember anything from the time you were kidnapped?" Emily asked, patiently, dark eyes observing every little twitch, every movement of his eyes.
He shook his head, "I don't," he paused taking a breath, "I don't remember much, but the dark damp room he held us in."
"No unusual characteristics?" Emily prodded just a bit.
"No, nothing," he lied turning away from her piercing dark brown eyes.
"Ok, then you can go," Emily said, leaning back in her chair.
They both watched James slowly make his way out the door limping with every step he took.
"He's lying Em," Reid stated, stepping back into the room.
"All three are Reid," she shot back running a frustrated hand through her hair.
"Maybe Hotch and company managed to find something while out hitting the streets," JJ stated, taking a sip of the brown slugs they called coffee.
"We can only hope," Emily answered, standing to stretch her back muscles, catching sight of the men in question. "And we'll be getting that answer soon," and pointed towards the door.
All three waited with bated breath hope flaring that this case would stop at one murder. But the looks plastered on their faces told a different story all together.
"Nothin'," Emily stated as a matter of fact then a real question.
"Next to nothing," Hotch began, "we have a possible description of the vehicle other than that most don't either want to talk, or don't know enough to be of any help."
"And Rebecca's aunt?" JJ asked, sitting down heavily on the well wore, backless stool.
"Frazzled at best, but she didn't know Rebecca had been heading to Atlanta," Rossi answered, pushing his hip on the edge of the scared conference room table.
"So nothing, and more nothing to go on and a sick bastard out there kidnapping kids both homeless and not, just peachy," Emily growled, hating this case by the second.
"Any luck with the returned kids?" Morgan asked, tentatively taking a sip of his own hot coffee, but spiting it back out the moment the horrid stuff touched his tongue.
Reid just shook his head, back turned to the group, scanning the pictures along the white board. "They won't say either. Its most as if the unsub still has a hold over them somehow."
"Well maybe he does," Hotch tossed in, crossing his arms, "I mean think about it. How do you get a child to behave in a home invasion or a kidnapping?"
"We playing twenty questions here Hotch," Rossi stated gruffly, glaring at the younger man.
"No, seriously Dave, you tell them don't scream or…"
"I'll kill your parents," Morgan finished, running a hand over his bald head.
"But how would he know who talked, unless," Emily began.
"Unless he's watching those that he's returned," Rossi finished, a bad feeling swelling up in the pit of his stomach.
"We need to alert the parents of the returned children," Hotch stated, turning and shouting out the open conference room door, "Detective Mayweather."
"Yea, what's the hub, bub?" came his deep voice, eyes searching the small group in front of him.
"We need to arrange protection for the family's of the returned children. The unsub may try to go after them."
"Why?" the older man asked surprise marring his voice.
"Cause he may see them as a threat to his safety take them out before they have a chance to identity him," Reid answered, turning from the board.
"All right I'll place a squad car at each residence," he began, but Rossi stopped him.
"Unmarked and plan clothed officers," Dave answered, and to the question in Mayweather's eyes, "we don't want to tip this bastard off."
At that moment, JJ's cell phone rang, 'Dude looks like a lady' playing. A few snickers emanated from the surrounding group, before the music halted and JJ answered.
"What, ya got for us, PG," JJ asked, holding the small phone out for everyone to hear.
"I'm afraid not much my intrepid band of super heroes," she began, as they could hear her fingers flying over the plastic keys.
"What you saying baby girl that you're not the Oracle of all knowing anymore?" Morgan put in a smile widen his lips.
"Bit your tongue my sexy chocolate profiler, or I'll bite it for you," she admonished, playfully though not really feeling it. But she missed him, not that she'd ever tell him that.
"Garcia," Hotch stated dragging out her name, through a slight tug at his lips gave him away to those around him.
"Sorry sir, slip of the tongue," Garcia cleaned her throat acting professional, "now the information I managed to drag out isn't much in fact it's just a list of names. People who own a black 92' Firebird, I mean do you have any idea how many people own that model?"
A rhetorical question, but Reid opened his mouth to answer anyway, "Production line for that model year seeing how it was the last time the third generation model would be built and in a city with four million, nine hundred seventeen thousand, seven hundred and seventeen people…"
"Kid I think we get the picture," Rossi stated glowering at the younger man though wondering how he could know such a thing in the first place.
"Now be nice Agent Rossi," Penelope admonished sweetly, "and he's right, in translation, not to many in a city that size. I sent the list of car owners to your PDA, Hotch."
"Good work Penelope," Hotch offered, flipping his own phone open.
"Aww your welcome, boss man," she replied, "Oh and one other thing, since Rebecca's father hasn't been contacted just, yet I told JJ earlier that I'd handle it. Once I've spoken to him you want me to call?"
"You don't have to do that Garcia," Rossi stated, "we can have someone from the station here, see to it."
"None sense," she answered, "now I'm signing off if you need anything else give me a buzz, Garcia out," and with that she hung up signaling the end of that discussion.
Rossi just shook his head an affectionate smile lighting his features.
"Looks like we have our, suspect pool after all," Hotch said, running through the names Penelope had provided for them, a full make up, address, rap sheet if they had one, financial records the whole nine yards of history. "You know she scares me sometimes," he affirmed shaking his head.
"When doesn't she," Emily shot back, "I mean that woman is amazing at finding the littlest bit of information."
Morgan turned towards the white board something not sitting right with him. "Something wrong Morgan?" Rossi asked, flipping through the stack of papers Hotch handed him hot off the printer.
"I don't know," he answered, maybe it was the fact that his mind was really on Penelope, but something call it a gut feeling or intuition, but thing wasn't sitting right with him. It felt too easy to just to go on the list that Penelope provided them. True it was a start, but to what end? Would his name even be on that list?