Chapter 12
Anderson Residence
Washington DC
Emily
The first thing Emily noticed, given the discussion she'd had with Rossi the night before, was the room. It was lined floor to ceiling and wall to wall with books. Books, binders, reports, what looked to be tons of data all neatly filed and cataloged in an actual card catalog directly in front of her. Behind that was a low set of bookshelves, back to back, running straight down the room and serving as a counter. At the far end looked to be a dictionary on a stand on what might be a map case.
They were going to have to pry Reid out of here with a crowbar.
Speaking of Reid he was perched on the library stepladder, inhaling a report, running those long fingers down the page as he just poured the data in one end of his brain and juggled it in the other. It was a healthy sign; whatever he had been through had clearly not impaired his mental abilities. It had also done nothing for his fashion sense; he was perched there in worn cords, an old work shirt fraying around the collar and cuffs and his usual Chucks and glasses. In short, he looked like he ought, only minus the tie.
When he turned, looked up and grinned she could see why he skipped the tie. Bruises tend to look worse even as they heal. At anywhere from one to three weeks old his looked horrifying, thick and dark and mottled around his wrists and collarbone. How that must have hurt and yet…
"Hey, Emily!"
And there he was giving her a big hug once again. Oh, he had been missing for so long and they hadn't had a clue and then he was so hurt in the hospital and then they just whisked him away…. She pulled him into that hug tight, "Hey handsome." He was alive and all right and they just had to be able to put him together again, they had to. "How are you feeling?"
"Good. Well, better." He finally let go. "Itchy." He admitted. "I think it's everything healing."
"Well don't scratch," Chris Parker spoke up.
"Yes, Sir," Spencer turned back to Emily without missing a beat. "So how is everyone?"
Yes, Sir. It was the casual, natural way he said it that twisted in her gut. "Fine, missing you; I think if Garcia can't lay eyes on you soon she might destroy a small country. And JJ's nearly as bad, just quiet about it. We should get Rossi to throw one of his dinners soon, get everyone together."
"That would be great! If it's, um, all right," he looked over at Parker again.
"I don't see why not." The other man said.
That reply left Spencer smiling like a puppy with a kind word from his… She couldn't do this any longer. "Good, so while I'd love to stay and visit I'm here to work. I'm supposed to be doing a cognitive with Calista Nash."
"Ah yes," Parker spoke up. "She's in with Anderson; I'll let them know you're here." He quietly stepped back out of the room and shut the door behind him.
As soon as the door was shut Emily turned back to Spencer. "You know, you don't have to ask his permission to go out with your friends." She pointed out. "You're not…whatever these people are." She could not say 'a slave', she just couldn't.
"I know."
"Then why were you?"
For a moment Spencer looked honestly deeply confused. "Was I?"
"Yes." Emily sighed and traded looks with Morgan. "So what have you been doing around here?"
"Lots of therapy," clearly he was fishing around for the memory. "They have a gym out back and the cook is amazing. And their doctor makes house calls."
"Is that all?"
"I've been working on my thesis, of course, but then I found this library. You guys have to get in on this. Look," he pulled out one binder. "One hundred and seventy-five pages on how to analyze behavior based on the way someone manipulates a coffee cup."
Morgan came over and took the binder to have a look, "Seriously?"
"Yeah, I'm wondering if such detailed analysis can be applied to the post-conviction interview process, or even with a potential suspect. You know, bring them a cup of coffee in the interview room and see how they react. And what's more, while we might be able to do this subconsciously, having this information already detailed out turns it into teachable materials."
Emily looked up at Morgan and exchanged a quick smile. Now that was the Reid they knew and loved. She pulled down the next binder. It was a thick report on the meaning behind how people manipulated their silverware. Damn.
"You know, I hate to admit to having an inner geek." Morgan said. "But Rossi has a point, this is impressive."'
"I know." Emily was already starting to lose her focus. The potential here was huge.
"Well you're more than welcome to stay and go through the material." Parker said from the door. He smiled just a little more. "It's rather refreshing to not be the only geek in the house." He turned to her specifically. "Cali will be available in a moment; you can use my office."
"Great, thank you." She followed him into the hallway. As soon as the door closed she asked. "How is he doing?"
"Improving, Dr. Mueller has been monitoring his injuries; she said they're all healing cleanly. And the weight is starting to come back. He's been showing steadily increasing stamina in the gym."
"What about psychologically?"
"Good question. Dr. Kaufmann says that is the most interesting mind he's ever come across, which is making understanding it uniquely difficult." He opened a door a little ways down the hall. Unlike the rest of the house, all dark woods and Arts and Crafts design his office was light pine, a clean, modern space with an almost Oriental feel.
"That's not what I'm asking."
Parker sighed. "Has this experience brought out innate submissive and or masochistic tendencies that are now going to have to be dealt with moving forward? Or are any indications merely a temporary state brought about by the situation? Or is it perhaps a reaction to a lifetime of on and off abuse?" He showed her to a small sitting area off to one side, two comfortable chairs, a small table, perfect spot for an interview. "We honestly don't know yet."
She hadn't thought of that third option. "Why do you think this is the best place for him to recover?"
"Because we're willing to use that temporary state to our advantage, to prevent long-term damage. If his body can't produce ample endorphins naturally he's at a high risk for returning to either drug use or risky behavior to stimulate production. Right now that means resting that system and allowing it to heal naturally which means twenty-four hour supervision and support, which we have available."
"And a more traditional facility doesn't offer that?"
"In a traditional facility, even if they understood the nature of the problem, he'd be at risk of predation from fellow patients or even from the staff. And no actual therapist would be willing or able to use that temporary state to his advantage."
Emily made some almost chuckle of a sound. "So, what, you took control and told him if he got off you'd spank him?"
"No." Even the blatant crudeness of that statement didn't rock Parker. "He's spent the better part of this past month learning to eroticize pain. I told him I'd take his books and his girlfriend away."
And he was completely serious. "Oh, I wish I hadn't asked that." Emily just shook her head. But then she looked at this man in front of her. Something about the set of his shoulders, the slight tilt of his head… "How are you holding up?'
"I beg your pardon?"
"You look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. That speaks to a certain amount of guilt."
He considered for a long moment. "Michael Howard," he finally admitted. "We should have done more to stop him. I don't know what, but…more."
Ahhh, of course, his accusations had lead to the trigger, and he had been in on the evaluation process. "You couldn't have known." She reminded him.
"Given the work we do here I'm afraid I have to disagree." He smiled, just a little, just a little regret. "But now we can only try to repair the damage we allowed to happen." There was a tap on the door behind him. "That will be Cali."
Calista Nash turned out to be taller than expected. She stood almost head and shoulders over Parker, was just the right height for a certain overly-tall doctor to kiss without bending too much. She was willowy, lightly curved, in a vintage style floral dress right out of the 1940's that bared her arms and landed just above her knee. She had dark blond hair that fell in waves just past her shoulders, a snubbed nose, pointed chin, and that pink-white skin that they called English Rose where it wasn't covered with the same thick bruises as Spencer's. But it was her eyes that were her best feature. Pretty, sure, but she looked like she was about to start a refined sort of giggling at any moment. Happy, full of life…no, merry, that's what it was. And then she smiled a crooked sort of smile and you just had to smile along with her, "A pleasure to meet you Agent Prentiss." Add in a refined British accent and what she'd learned about her from her profile and yes, Emily would easily peg this girl for Reid. She'd keep him happy.
And yet there was something. Something in the way she responded to Parker, something in her curtsey or the brief nod of her head, something that just felt a quarter beat off. Something just didn't quite…fit. But she couldn't put her finger on it. Wanted to say 'No, call me Emily', that would have felt right, but she'd been briefed on the formal manners here. So instead it was "Thank you for meeting with me Miss Nash. Did Doctor Reid have a chance to explain what a cognitive interview is?"
"The cognitive interview is a method of interviewing victims and witnesses that minimizes misinterpretation and maximizes retrieval of memory. Using four specific interviewing techniques the interview can increase memory retrieval by up to 45% without generating inaccuracies." Cali's crooked smile grew a little wider and she sounded about to giggle. "Yes, he did."
"Yeah, it sounds like it." Emily couldn't help it, she was laughing. "Okay, let's get started."
In the first hour they covered the same ground as Morgan and Spencer had. She'd been walking out to meet Mr. Parker at the appropriate time and place, and was jumped from behind, a nasty smell, waking up in the cell, the forms, recognizing them as the ones from their organization. "You said you weren't…rated for sexual service. " Emily said, after checking for the correct term. "How did you recognize the forms?"
"Some of my mates are rated for that sort of thing. They were sent over here for training. I peeked over their shoulders while they were filling them out."
"So what happened after you signed the contracts?"
The intercom crackled to life. "The male will put this on." The pass drawer slid open.
Spencer leaned over to look. Inside the drawer was a length of heavy, silver chain and a plain, shiny, round sliver lock. He pulled it out and showed it to Cali, who looked it over without touching. "I don't understand." She said finally. "It's a training lock, surely, but there are no markings on it for any house or trainer. That doesn't make any sense."
"The male will put this on." The Unsub repeated.
"What are you going to do?" She asked.
"The male will put this on!" The Unsub was already getting angry, it was easy to tell.
"Pacify the Unsub." He said quietly. The metal was cool around his neck, a fit just tight enough to be noticeable, to not be able to go over his head. The lock made the whole thing heavy. He took a deep breath and snapped it shut; a very final sound. "How do you get used to this?" It wasn't tight enough to choke but it was making him aware of every swallow."
"I've worn one for eight years now. It's more a comfort than anything most of the time, reminds you of your place in the world."
"I can see how that would provide a sense of security."
The intercom crackled again. "Remove your clothing and place it in the drawer."
Oh hell.
Cali looked up at the intercom speaker. "Oh you knew that was coming. Still going to pacify the Unsub?"
"Remove your clothing and place it in the drawer."
"Yes." He turned to face the door, his back to her, and got started. His Chucks, her Mary Janes, her denim jacket, his blazer, his socks, one purple with a yellow toe and heel, the other the same purple but with white polka dots, her hand appeared and handed him a pair of hand knit socks in a pale yellow. "We have blankets, we can wrap up or something."
He heard her pause a moment. "I think we know what's coming next Spencer."
"I'm trying not to think about that." Tie, shirt, roll about to get out of the pants. Wait…"I didn't mean it that way. It's just…."
"Not the best situation." She passed him a flowery, soft cloud that turned out to be her dress. "If it's any help you are rather cute you know. You probably would have talked me into it, if you wanted to."
"Really?" Spencer could feel his ears burning. "I do want to. Well, did want to. No, do want to." He did. She was kind of wonderful, he could already tell.
"Did? Do?" Cali passed him her bra, soft and pink and still warm from her body.
It took him a moment to put that in there. All of a sudden this was very real. "Not like this." No help for it. He peeled out of his boxers, put them in the drawer, and then accepted a bit of warm white cotton he didn't want to think about and placed that in there as well. He pulled the nearest blanket around his lap, then over his shoulders and finally dared to peek. Good, she was wrapped in a blanket herself, had it tucked tightly up under her arms. He sat back against the wall to watch the fire as the Unsub pulled the drawer to the other side. "I would have at least bought you dinner first." He told her, "Someplace nice." Bravado in the face of fear, he thought, a show of courage perhaps.
She made a nervous sort of sound. "That would have been lovely; maybe a movie after."
"Nooo," not a movie, too commonplace. "A play, maybe the symphony; do you like opera?"
"I do. I went when I could when I was in University."
"There we go." Yes, he would have taken her to the opera and a very nice dinner first. That was appropriate for a seduction.
"And then back to your flat?" She asked. "Given that I share a dorm room with three other people."
They shared a shy sort of smile. "I'm not home enough to keep it up. Maybe…a bed and breakfast with a big bed ,a four poster."
"And a fire, oh, well, we have a fire." She pointed out. "Of course this would not have been our first date."
"No, not at all, we would have gone out hopefully a number of times; coffee first, then lunch, maybe a picnic on the mall."
"There're lots of things in DC I haven't seen yet." She told him.
"There's a start. Move on to dinners, movies, maybe some lectures."
"Sounds marvelous," her smile was the brightest thing he had ever seen. "Do you follow…football?"
"American or British?" he asked her. "Actually no, to both, do you?"
"No, but I do keep an eye on the cricket scores."
"I admit I've never been able to understand cricket."
Cali looked at him with a grin. "Yank."
Spencer nodded, "Very much so."
They were quiet a moment. Then she looked over. "I suppose at some point you would have kissed me good-night."
"Mmm, probably, it might have taken me a bit, but, yeah." They knew what was coming. They knew what the Unsub was going to ask them to do to stay alive. But really, it wasn't that hard to lean over and kiss her. Her lips were soft and sweet and tasted like honey and he remembered what Lila did and licked and she opened and then he was drowning again.
The intercom crackled over their heads…
"And then what happened?" Emily asked her.
Cali stared off into the memory, but at that question she blinked and blushed and turned back to the present, "Kind of a lot."
