Chapter 11
The Stupidity of Others
A/N: Recently, I realized a flaw to my plot line and went back to chapter nine to fix this. I changed some things, so if chapters ten or eleven don't make sense, it's because of my changes (changes are in paragraph when I describe the cell and the one after that. Near the end.) Sorry for the inconvenience!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.
Nothing. The word itself is disappointing. Empty. It's what we found at Ryan Walter's cabin. A whole lot of nothing. Sure, we found Sam's body, but we didn't find the family or Ryan. Even though none of us were supposed to expect we would find them here, everyone had; though no one would admit it. The CSI was already checking for DNA and samples when we arrived. Not that that was going to do any good.
"Find anything?" I yelled from outside the small room. No way was I going back in there. I hadn't even allowed Garcia to come.
"Nothing substantial or significant," several voices called back. I ran a hand over my scalp. Where could they have gone? I mean, where else is there?
...
"Please! Somebody help us!" Stella called from the barn. Night was upon them and no sounds could be heard except the pointless screams. "We're here! We need help!"
"Mommy," Peter whispered from his chair. "Please stop yelling." Stella's face softened instantly and the world once again became quiet.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. Go back to sleep," she soothed, cursing herself inside. "I have to remain calm," she thought. Even though it felt like midnight, it actually was closer to eight. All of a sudden, the lights in the barn flickered to life. Stella stiffened and her eyes searched the room. Ryan strode into the room and walked over to her.
"Good evening, Princess," he said to her. "How would you like a tour of your new home?" No one moved, but this didn't stop him. "Come on, you'll love what I've done to the place." He knelt and took out his pocket knife. He untied her rope and grasped his hand firmly on her arm, then set his knife on the table. As soon as she was untied, she kneed him in the groin. He had expected this and lunged for her legs. "Are you really going to make me kill you in front of your kids?" he asked once he caught her. She stopped. "That's what I thought. Come with me."
...
The car ride back to the BAU was filled with information that no one understood or was listening to. The only words anyone really heard were the ones delivered by Hotch,
"We reconvene back in the conference room to go over everything we know. Let's start from scratch."
...
Up until this point, Ryan Walters has showed he is exceptionally smart. He has the charm and looks to lure woman where he wants them to, capture them, and hold them for several days. His plans have been meticulously thought out and executed. He has never made one mistake or been outsmarted by anyone. Maybe that confidence was what caused him to forget the item that would ruin him. Maybe, it's how not all of the Turners escaped that barn alive.
...
"Let's start at the beginning," Hotch started. "We profiled Sam to be well educated and brought up. He uses his confidence to take control of his woman. He is not one to rush into things and he thinks out every detail down to the weather. He like to torture his victims, clearly sadistic," he said, glancing hesitantly at me. "He doesn't take trophies, so he relies solely on his memory to help him relive his crimes over and over."
"He requires complete control over the situation," I quipped. "He went so far as to even change Garcia's clothes." Several eyes looked up at that statement, but I ignored them.
"Yet, he has a partner. Why?" Prentiss asked. "And how does this family in California fit into this mix of things?" The phone rang and I jumped on it.
"Garcia?"
"Yes, handsome, it's yours truly and she comes with fantastic news."
"Spill," I said.
"So, I looked up Sam and cross checked every one of his activities, purchases, and tiny lifestyle choice with Ryan. I discovered they met at an alcohol support group that they each started in 1996 and continued to 1997. After that, Ryan got married and moved to California when he had his daughter Lucy in 1999."
"That's great, but how does that help us?" Reid asked.
"I was just getting to that. Ryan invited Sam to the wedding. Then for two years there's nothing, until 2001 when Sam get arrested for statutory rape. Ryan visited him every day for a year and a half, when he got out early due to good behavior."
"So they developed a relationship, gained trust..." I trailed off.
"Oh, I'm not done yet Sugar. They must have gained a lot of trust because the day before Susan Walters and her kids were murdered, Ryan Walters made a generous withdrawal from West Central Bank in California and an hour later, Sam Davis deposited the amount Ryan withdrew."
"Oh," Prentiss said. "Do you think Ryan hired Sam to kill his family?"
"That's exactly what I was thinking."
"Well, that's how the family comes into play," Rossi stated.
"Thanks Garcia," Hotch told her.
"You are most welcome my liege. Chow."
"That makes sense now," I said.
"Moving on," Hotch said briskly. "Ryan. He's not the dominant character of the two. He submissive to Sam, willing to do whatever he says."
"So why take this family? What significance do they have to him? And why so soon after Sam dies?" Prentiss asked. "Morgan, Stella drove you guys back. Is there a similarity?" I thought. The only way I could see them overlapping is... I snapped my fingers.
"Stella has three kids! One daughter and two boys! Her looks are similar to Ryan's wife. What if..." I said excitedly.
"He's made himself a new family," the team finished for me.
...
In the moments before Stella left the barn and walked with Ryan up to the couple's house, she made eye contact with her children. In those brief seconds, she told them a whole story. She was making a sacrifice for them; she needed them to understand. So, when Claire nodded, she allowed Ryan to lead her out of that room and towards the dark house. As soon as the door was shut Claire lunged for it; almost knocking herself out of her chair. She slowly scooted over to the table next to the couch and grasped the cold metal in her hands. He maneuvered the already open pocket knife across the rope and severed the bonds. She was out of her chair in a few minutes. She wanted to run to find her mother, to save her from what that awful man was doing with her. But she knew that wouldn't work. So, without more than a moment's hesitation, she started to cut her brothers free.
...
Ryan was nervous as he led Stella up to the house. He hoped the people that lived here wouldn't be to mad if they used their house a little. Sam had said his parents were on vacation and wouldn't be back until Sunday of next week. It was only Friday. He thought as long as he cleaned up and they didn't notice, he was safe. When they reached the front steps, he groped in his pocket for the keys, then unlocked the door. He was about to put them back in his pants when he realized what he had done. He dropped the keys on the porch. His eyes sprang open and he jerked Stella back towards the barn; realizing his first mistake while making his second.
...
"So, where do we go from here?" I asked, eager to move on. My eyes lids drooped closed as I said this. Hotch chuckled.
"We need rest. Everyone go home and we can start fresh tomorrow. No exceptions," he added when I put up a hand in protest. I lowered my palm and sighed.
...
Ryan yanked open the large, splintering door to the barn and was knocked off his feet by the three kids that ran in his direction. He fell to the ground and once again searched his pocket for his gun. He knew he only needed to get one of the kids for all of them to come back. His hand jutted out and caught one of the boys by the ankle. He cried out.
"Peter!" Stella screamed and ran back, Simon holding onto her hand. Claire was out of ear shot and was sprinting to the car. Her hair was flying in all directions and her blue eyes wide with fright. Ryan pushed the three family members back into the barn and turned to see Claire changing directions before she reached the car. She sprinted to the house. She saw the keys and Ryan cursed himself out loud, running faster towards her. He could hear the yells from Stella in the barn and slowed only a fraction of a second to turn his head. When he turned back, Claire was in the truck and finally looked up for her family. When she didn't see them and she only saw Ryan, she had to make a choice. The choice that would ultimately save her and no one else.
...
I knocked on the door to Garcia's office, so tired I could have slept right there. "Garcia?" I called, not much louder than a whisper. "Hey, Baby Girl? You in there?" I heard her clicking away on the computer. I winced. I had forgotten. That could be Kevin. I knocked again. I didn't want to startle her. She was so easy to scare when she was working on something. I was about to go in when I heard,
"I respond to Fair Lady and Your Highness as well." I snickered and opened the door. Kevin and Garcia were both deep in thought. The difference was, Garcia was still able to connect outside of her head when she was thinking; Kevin could not. "Hey." she said, eyes never leaving the screen. I put my hand on her shoulder.
"Hotch says it's time to call it a night. Start off well-rested in the morning."
"What? But, we haven't caught him yet! We need to-" I put a finger on her lips.
"In the morning. Get some sleep."
"Derek, I can't go to sleep." Damn nightmares.
"Well it's not like you're going to be alone. I'm going with you." Both Kevin and Garcia stopped working. "What? The killer is still out there and she's in immediate danger," I said more to Kevin than to Garcia. She sighed.
"I knew you would say that." She got up, collected her purse and made her way over to the door. "Let's go." She turned to Kevin. "I'll see you in the morning." Then left without another word. I raised my brows and shook my head.
"Alright then."
...
Ryan ran into the barn out of breath. Stella was backed into the far corner with the boys behind her.
"Where's Claire?" she asked, not wanting to get her hopes up. He turned to her.
"Gone." A smile erupted on Stella's face. A smile bigger than every smile she had ever worn on her face in her life. That smile turned to giggles then to laughter. Soon, Stella was guffawing on the floor, tears coming out of her eyes.
...
Claire had more adrenaline pumping in her system than most cliff divers. She was twelve years old, driving a car sixty down a highway. She was trying to get as far as she could without crashing and didn't want to go to fast in case she did crash. Half of her wanted to turn around, but she knew that would do no good. She had to get back so she could help the officers looking for them. Ryan had put duck tape on the address sign in front, but she had been able to make out two of the numbers: seven and eight. She was sure they were the last two numbers in the address. A car to her left honked at her. She didn't know what to do, so she honked back. The person in the car gave her the finger and sped up, never noticing her age.
By the time she had made it five miles, she was weighing her options. She could drives recklessly and try to get pulled over so the cop would help her, or she could stop all together. She didn't want to stop so close to the house; she didn't know if the man that took her had another car and was chasing her. Plus, she didn't want to risk getting into a car full of the wrong people. She made her decision. After looking thirty seconds for the blinker, she put it on. Then she pushed the speed limit by ten miles and zigzagged in and out of every lane. "Enjoy yourself," she thought. "This is the last time you can do this without getting into trouble."
She was starting to think there were no cops in the area when finally, after ten straight minutes of law breaking, she heard sirens behind her. She almost screamed with joy and pulled to a jerky stop. When a cop appeared at her window, his eyes widened in surprise. His mustache was trying to make him look older, but all his cuts from shaving just made him look more inexperienced. He was wearing strong cologne that made her want to gag.
"Excuse me, ma'm? May I ask how old you are?"
"Look officer, I'm Claire Turner, you are probably looking for my fam-"
"How old are you?" he interrupted. She frowned; lowering her eyes to his blue uniform, embarrassed. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.
"You... You don't understand. My family was kidnapped and I was trying to get pulled over so I could get someone to help me. I just escaped-"
"Look, miss. I've heard this all before. How old are you?" he persisted. He had heard this all before? Really?
"Twelve." He coughed.
"I'm going to ask you to come with me."
"Please would you just-"
"Hey. I'll call the chief when we get back and clarify your story. But I'm still taking you in." She rolled her eyes.
"Fine."
...
Ryan was in a blur. He had everything packed and had the family in the trunk. He was traveling light and his whole plan depended on his uncle's hot wiring lessons. He didn't have another car, so he was stealing Sam's parent's car. It was small, and wouldn't attract attention. Perfect. He got in the car. It only took him three minutes to get the engine to turn on, and exit the driveway.
...
"Agent Hotchner, is it?" a police officer asked. It was late, after the team had gone home.
"Yes?"
"I have a twelve year old girl here, says her name is Claire? She says she was driving the car badly so I would pull her over and that her family has been kidnapped," he scoffed. "The nerve of some people. Anyway, I promised I tell you-"
"Where is she?"
"She over there, why? "
"She's not lying."
"Oh..." the officer said, but he said it to Hotch's back as he jogged down the hallway.
...
Ryan was sad about the reason he was coming to park. It was pitch black and no one was in sight. He always said he would come back here, even for a moment. It was one of his favorite memories; playing here. He shook those thought from his strangled mind and he knelt to kiss Stella's forehead. He was sorry it had to end this way, but Claire was sure to make it back. They would find him. So as he turned his back on the people that would send him prison, he said a silent apology; for killing the Turners really hadn't been part of his plan.
...
Garcia and I had the most uneventful night in history. Once we got back to her house, we collapsed on each other. Her bed suddenly became the softest thing on the planet and my eyelids became the heaviest. It was five in the morning when I heard the sound of torture calling. I picked up my cell phone and knew right away who it was. I must admit though, I had expected Hotch to say they figured out where the family was or that they had found another body. I hadn't, not in a million years, expected him to tell me Claire Turner was at the BAU.
A:N: I am so sorry for the delay. I knew exactly what I wanted to write, but couldn't figure out how to put it on paper. Thanks for the reviews and wonderful feedback! Please R AND R!