It had been a few hours of interviewing both Brooke and Patricia and they still had no proof of Brooke's innocence. The team was gathered in the conference room, giving both women a break. Although it was more for theirs and Brooke's sake.
Spencer rested his head on his folded arms that lay on the wooden table. His brain running through Brooke's stories over and over in hopes that something might jump out at him. But he knew he was too close to the case. He couldn't look beyond the pain Brooke had suffered.
He had a difficult childhood as well, but it looked laughable when compared to hers. He wanted to remember to call his mom later and remind her how much he loved her. Despite her illness, she always made sure Spencer knew he was loved.
The door to the conference room opened and Hotch stepped inside.
"I just received a call that the possible remains of George Evanson have been found. They are sending it to the ME as we speak. As soon as the results are in we should have some more information regarding the possible cause of death," he said.
"Not like that will be much help after 16 years," Derek sighed.
"She had a great relationship with her father. I just don't understand why she would choose to kill him," J.J. said to no one in particular.
"And we ruled out that she was trying to shoot her mom, but shot her dad by mistake?" Emily chimed in.
"She said she had to kill her father. She doesn't know why. She just knows that she had to do it," Spencer muttered as he propped his chin on his arms now.
"None of this makes any sense!" Derek said as he leaned back in his chair. His hands running across his bald head. "Her mother tortures her daily and the one person she has on her side, who could save her from this life, she kills him?"
"Have we had any progress on locating her brother?" Rossi inquired.
"Garcia is still searching, but like Brooke it seems he isn't using his real name," Hotch replied.
"So, to quote boy genius, we are looking for a specific needle in a stack of needles," Derek said in frustration.
Spencer stood up from his chair suddenly and started toward the door.
"Reid?" Hotch called out questioningly.
"I'm going to go talk with Brooke. See if there's anything I can get her," he said sadly before exiting.
"If it weren't for bad luck, that kid wouldn't have any luck at all," Rossi said.
(xxxxx)
Spencer found Brooke in the same spot she had been when he'd left over 30 minutes ago. She gave him a small smile that he returned as he walked over to sit beside her. He lifted his arm to pull her closer to his body. Once her head was snuggled into his chest she sighed.
"When I was little my Papa read me a story once about a princess who had been trapped in a tower her entire life –"
"Rapunzel," Spencer interjected.
"It was similar to her story, minus the long hair. When she was rescued and in the arms of her prince she said that no matter where she was as long as she had him by her side she was home. I didn't understand what that meant or if it was even real. I imagined that it was something that fairytale characters felt, but not someone in real life."
There was a long pause, while Brooke summoned the courage to speak again.
"I know what that means now."
Her voice barely audible, but Spencer heard it loud and clear. He pulled her tighter into his body and placed a kiss to her head.
"That is the nicest thing I think anyone ever said to me," he said as he rested his chin on top of her head. "I know we haven't known each other long and it has certainly been quite the roller coaster, but I really like you Brooke. I could fall in love with you."
Brooke sat up at that statement and stared back at him with tears glistening in her eyes. He watched as her eyes studied his, searching for the truth. He moved slowly forward and gently placed a kiss to her lips. It was chaste, but very meaningful.
"I'm going to rescue you from the tower. I promise," he whispered as their foreheads touched.
Brooke nodded as she bit her lip to keep from crying. She wanted to believe him so badly. She wanted to believe in fairytales despite her past telling her otherwise. And she so badly wanted Spencer to be her hero.
(xxxxx)
Patricia looked at her watch in annoyance and sighed loudly. They said she wasn't a suspect and yet she could tell they were clearly keeping her here as if she was one. Just when she thought she would scream from the silence, the door swung open and in walked a new agent she hadn't spoken with.
"Mrs. Evanson?" the salt and pepper haired agent asked.
"Patricia, is fine," she said.
He watched as her irritation slipped from view. He held up a Styrofoam box and a bottle of water.
"I thought you could use something to eat. It isn't much, but it's fresh," he said handing her the container. "Chicken salad sandwich with chips."
"That's very kind of you," she said with a cocked eyebrow.
"Agent Rossi," he said.
"Well, thank you Agent Rossi. I was getting hungry," she said with a smile.
Rossi returned the smile and started to leave when she called out to him.
"Wait, you aren't staying?"
"I hadn't planned on it," he said. "Did you need company?"
"If you would be so kind. These walls are a little unsettling," she said.
On the other side of the glass, Hotch and Emily stood watching this interaction. Emily made a guffaw sound, prompting Hotch to look her way.
"She finds it unsettling. Imagine how her child felt being locked in a cage most of her life," she snarled.
It was as though a lightbulb had gone off in Hotch's mind.
"That's it," he said as he hurried off, with Emily trailing after him.
"What? What's it?" she said, but he didn't answer. He went straight for the room holding Brooke and burst through the door. Spencer and Brooke jumped at the sound.
"Brooke, you said you were kept in a cage daily?" he said without preempt.
She looked at Spencer who nodded his encouragement to her.
"Um, yes sir," she answered softly.
"When were you allowed out?" he asked.
"When Mama needed me to clean or sometimes I was allowed out at meal times. That was rare though. Typically, if I got fed Mama would put me in the backyard with a dog bowl," she said.
"So, you weren't allowed to wander around the house freely?"
"No, Mama said that I was too filthy to be in the house. That I was a mutt who belonged in the yard."
"Brooke, this is very important, I need you to really think about this before you answer," Hotch said as he kneeled down in front of her. "On the night you allegedly shot your father, how were you able to be in the bedroom. Who let you out of the cage?"
Spencer's face lit up with understanding. His jaw dropped and he looked from Hotch to Emily, who had realized what was going on as well. Brooke's brow was furrowed as she sat quietly thinking over what happened that night.
"Close your eyes. Visualize that night," Hotch encouraged.
Brooke obeyed and closed her eyes.
"It's hazy. I … I'm not real sure … I remember not feeling well. Mama had allowed me to eat a hamburger since it was a special day and I felt sick after eating it," she began.
"What did you feel?" Spencer asked.
"I felt dizzy and sick to my stomach. Mama put me in the cage in case I threw up. She didn't want me to ruin her carpets," she said. Her eyes still closed as she relived that day.
"What happened next?" Hotch said.
"I think I fell asleep. I remember laying down in the cage, but I have no memory of what happened after that. I … I heard a noise … it woke me."
"What noise?" Hotch pressed.
"Um, a creeking sound. The door. It was the side door. Someone is whispering something to me. I'm too dizzy and nauseous to do anything. They keep repeating it over and over. I can't … whatever they are saying to me … I'm crying and throwing up. I want out, but she won't let me. I beg her to kill me, but she won't."
"Who? Who is she?" Hotch asked.
"Mama. She is there. She won't help me. She won't let me out," Brooke said as tears streamed from her shut eyes.
"What was she whispering?"
"I don't know. I don't know. I don't know," she said as she shook her head in frustration.
"Listen. Listen closely to her. What is she saying Brooke?"
Brooke squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to focus on what was being said to her.
"She is telling me my Papa is dead. That I did it. That I killed him. She said that I shot him," Brooke's eyes popped open. She looked at Hotch with horror in her eyes. "I did it! I killed him! Just like I told you!"
"No Brooke! You didn't! Don't you see what happened?" Spencer said as he grasped both her arms, forcing her to look at him. "You didn't kill him. You were drugged and locked in your cage. You didn't kill him. It was a set up. Your mom was setting you up."
"What?" she shook her head in disbelief and looked from Spencer to Hotch.
"You didn't do this," Emily said with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. "Brooke, you are innocent."
"But … but the time lapse …" she trailed off.
"Brooke, you were a very sick child. There is no way in your condition you would have been able to escape from your cage, let alone shoot someone three times. Odds are you passed out due to whatever your mother drugged you with."
Brooke looked stunned. Her mind couldn't seem to wrap around the news that had been given to her. Spencer was holding her hand tightly, thanking God for this miracle, while Emily leaned into Hotch with relief. This was what they needed. Now it was time to get Patricia to slip up.
(xxxxx)
You guys are wonderful! I have actually been excited to write this again and have been coming up with ideas. Your comments and suggestions helped me shape this story. It really gave me a stronger grasp on what could or couldn't work. So thank you all so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter! xoxo
