CHAPTER TWELVE: A SICKENING CALL (HALE)

It was like some sick, twisted, horrifying, heinous dream that kept getting more convoluted and worse by the second. It was spiraling into this deep dark hole that had no bottom in sight.

Three days.

In three days, my life had been completely flipped upside down.

Rachel was dead.

She was dead.

And Emma was gone.

Jarrod Harris had been in every nightmare I'd ever had since the last time I'd laid eyes on him, which was in court as the jury ruled him guilty of all charges. But every night that I had a bad dream, he had a starring role in it. I knew just what kind of evil he could wreak on a person. And now he had Emma.

I answered all the questions Prentiss and Morgan asked. They asked about Jarrod, about his wife, now dead, about the other foster kids, about life in his home. They tried to skirt around the more difficult details, which I appreciated. Too many painful things in my brain at once, all on overload.

All this turmoil, and I had to keep a straight face for Hotch. I had to show him I was capable of handling this case. And I was. I knew I was. Like it or not, I was good at this. My dad would be proud I was using my skills to fight the bad guys. And I was going to kick Jarrod's ass the way my dad would've if he had known what that bastard had done to me.

I wasn't allowed to go with the team as they investigated Jarrod Harris' home, but I didn't mind. I knew they wouldn't find anything. Jarrod was impulsive, angry, violent…but he wasn't stupid. He'd find somewhere else to take Emma and to hide out. If in fact he even was our unsub, which was a detail I couldn't doubt.

I occupied my time by searching through an internet database looking for the three people I had been closest with, whom Hotch had promised would be offered protection if they could get to Quantico. I found Keeton and Jamal almost immediately. They were running a small bar together in Norfolk, Virginia. It took longer to find Lily. Once I did, I saw she had become a rape crisis counselor in California. I looked at the picture of her present-day self with pride. She'd really done a lot to help others.

And now I needed to reopen the wounds she had. The wounds that looked scarily similar to my own.

I dialed her number and waited thirty seconds until she picked up. "Ms. Brighton's Counseling, how may I help you?" I heard a heartbreakingly familiar voice say.

"Hello…um…Lily?"

There was a pause. "Who is this speaking?"

"Hi, this is Nat. Um, Natalie Hale."

"Nat!" Lily exclaimed. "What a…surprise!"

"It took me a while to find your number," I said. "I never thought to look for a Lillian Brighton. I've only ever thought of you as Lily."

There was an uncomfortably long pause, and I wondered how big of a jump I'd made reaching out to her.

"Nat, it's been several years…I mean, don't get me wrong, it's great to hear from you…but why now?"

"It's…it's not anything good," I said quietly.

"Is it Keeton? Or Jamal? I knew I should've kept better contact with you guys, I just never found the time to—"

"No, it's not them," I quickly assured. "I'm going to call them next." I took a deep breath. "Lily, you know Jarrod's out of jail."

Lily swallowed. "I know. That's why I moved across the country."

"He's the prime suspect in the murder of my sister-in-law. And in the kidnapping of my five-year-old niece."

There was silence. Then, "Oh my God, Nat, I'm so—"

"I'm currently working with the FBI," I said hurriedly, cutting her off. "So you need to listen to me carefully. We have reason to believe that he wants to hurt me for catching him all those years ago. And one way to do that is by getting to you, Keeton, and Jamal. And I won't let him do that to me. Can you get to Quantico, Virginia as soon as possible? They can offer you protection there. I can protect you there."

"Nat…we aren't little kids anymore. I'm not thirteen. I can take care of myself."

"No. You may be an adult, but you're not all-powerful. He can still hurt you, and I can't let that happen. I know you've got a career and no doubt people you love out there, but I'm worried about you. Come to Quantico. Please."

There was a long pause on the other side. I waited patiently. "I can be there by tomorrow morning."

"Great. Once you land call me at this number and I'll give you more information. You're doing the right thing, Lil."

"Alright. I'll talk to you later, Nat."

I hung up and started searching for Keeton's number. He had been the youngest of all of us at the foster home, just ten years old. After the whole Jarrod fiasco, he was lucky enough to have a sweet mid-fifties couple adopt him. He'd grown so much now, and it looked like Jamal had taken him under his wing since graduation. Neither had a college education, but they seemed to make well with their bar.

I was dialing Keet and Jam's Bar as the team walked back in the doors of the police station. As they arrived at the desk I was sitting at, Hotch opened his mouth to say something, and I held up a finger to make him wait.

"Keet and Jam's Bar, how may I help you?" I heard a deep voice say. I couldn't have put my finger on it.

"Hello, to whom am I speaking?"

"Keeton Peterson, co-owner. And who am I speaking to?"

"Keeton, this is Natalie Hale. Do you remember me?"

"Nat? Is it really you?"

"In the flesh. Or, voice, I guess."

His voice went away from the phone for a moment. "Hey! Jamal! Get over here! It's Nat!" He put his mouth back to the phone. "It's been such a long time, it's great to hear from you again."

"You too, Keet. How's the bar?"

"It's great…hey, Jamal, it's Nat!"

There was a shuffling sound and another voice rang in my ear. "Nat?"

"Hey Jamal, it's great to hear your voice."

"You too!" Jamal sounded happy to hear me, but unlike Keeton, I could tell he knew I had a hidden agenda. "But I know you, Nat, and you wouldn't call us out of the blue like this unless you had a good reason. I've got you on speaker, by the way."

"You're too smart for your own good," I sighed. "Something's happened. Is there any way you and Keet could close down the bar for a few days and take a trip to Quantico, Virginia."

"What's going on?" he asked. "Why Quantico?"

"Jamal, Keet, I'm currently working with the FBI on a string of murders and a missing person's case. The most recent murder was my sister-in-law and my niece was abducted. They…guys, they think it was Jarrod." There was silence on the other end. I continued. "They can offer you protection in Quantico. There's a possibility that he's going after people I care about for revenge, and you guys are more than connected to both Jarrod and me."

After a moment, Keet said, "Nat, I'm so sorry about your family. That's too much for one person."

"Thanks," I said. I glanced at the team, who dawdled as they tried to pretend they weren't listening to my conversation. I rolled my eyes and said, "Knowing you two were safe would take some major stress off of me. Can you get to Quantico by tomorrow morning? Lily will be there as well."

"Of course we can," Jamal said. "You take care of yourself, Nat, you here?"

"I'm sitting here with a Glock 17, Jamal, I'll be just fine. Call me at this number if you need anything. I'll talk to you later." I flipped my phone shut and looked at the team. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Morgan told me. "Didn't have much to say anyway. His house brought up nothing."

I nodded. I was about to stand up from my chair, but my phone rang again. "Probably Keeton wanting to ask me something. He's always been pretty detail specific, poor kid." I opened up the phone and put it on speaker. The team could help answer questions. "Hello?"

"Aunt Nattie?"

I dropped the phone. The small, quiet voice was shaking, and I knew without a doubt who it was.

Morgan immediately got Garcia on the phone and was asking her to trace the call. I picked up the phone with a shaking hand. "Emma? Sweetie, is that you?"

"Aunt Nattie, I'm scared," she cried.

Tears built up in my eyes. "Honey, do you know where you are? We're trying to come help you."

"I'm in a small room. It has brooms and buckets and stuff and it's really black. I'm so scared, Aunt Nattie, I want mommy and daddy."

I brushed a tear off my cheek. "How are you talking to me, Emma?"

"His phone was in his pocket. Your name was in it so I thought it might be you. He left his pants in the room."

I took from that statement what I had feared the most. I ran my hand across my face and took a deep breath. "Honey, do you know his name?"

"He told me to call him Uncle Jarrod," she sobbed, confirming more of my fears.

"Sweetie, just hold on a bit longer, we're coming to find you. Your daddy misses and loves you very much."

"I miss him too," Emma cried. "Aunt Nattie, I can't breathe well."

"Just stay calm, Emma. Take slow breaths, okay? Are you hurt?"

"He's coming back!" she said, crying harder. "I can hear him. I'm scared."

"Hang up the phone, sweetie," I said, trying not to reveal the tears that were pouring down my face in my voice. "Hide it. Don't let him find it, okay? We're going to find you."

She disconnected the call and I looked up at the team. Prentiss put a hand on my shoulder as I wiped the tears off my face. I took a deep breath. "Did you track it?"

"Baby, you know I did." I listened to Garcia's voice coming out of Morgan's phone, which was on speaker. "It looks like the bastard's shacking up in a small house way off of the main highway. I'll send you the address and you guys go save that poor little girl."

"Thanks, baby girl," Morgan said.

"Sure thing."

They hung up and I stood from my chair. I was testing the waters without my crutches, and surprisingly I was doing quite well. "Hotch, let me come with you. You might need me to get her out."

"No," Hotch said. "We'll find another way."

"Not if it puts Emma in danger. She can't breathe well, she's scared, she's hurt…and Jarrod might not hesitate in killing her if you don't have a bargaining chip. It fits the profile that he'd make a trade off for me. Obviously, you wouldn't just hand me over, but just my presence could keep him from killing her. Just let me come."

"She has a point, Hotch," Reid said. "And she seems to be doing well without crutches. She can hold her own. Right, Hale?"

"Definitely," I said. "I can help you end this."

Hotch looked at me carefully. He stared me down, as if analyzing even the smallest detail about the steely and determined look I was giving him. I stared right back at him in his warm eyes, unwilling to back down, unwilling to look weak.

And then, finally, "Alright. You can come. Someone get her a vest."

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