Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews from the last chapter! This one is a little shorter – I hope you don't mind.

Thank you as usual to Lily Moonlight, and I'd also like to thank chiroho for the discussions about the best way to get Hotch and Emily together!

Please keep reviewing!!!

Calverville Point, South Dakota

'Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.' – Gautama Siddhartha

Chapter 14

She lowered the gun slightly and looked at the man she was sure had been following her.

"Hey!" he said, placing his hands in the air and taking a step back. "I'm one of the good guys!"

Edmund Baker stood in front of her, the dusting of snow on his jacket and hair suggesting that he had been out here for some time.

She didn't replace the gun. Its cold steel remained in her hand and her ankle throbbed painfully. "What are you doing out here?" she said, trying to calm the sudden shake in her voice.

"I'm on my way to class and I was a few minutes early. I thought I'd take the scenic route," he said, giving her a broad grin. "It looks like you've gone the wrong way. Maybe you could do with a coffee first, warm you up. It's cold out here."

His eyes were as cold and as grey as granite, his smile belying the sharp rock they were made from. "I'm fine, thank you," she said, the gun still readied. "Your class has been cancelled. You should have heard the announcement."

He rolled his eyes. "Shucks. I heard something, but I was in the changing rooms and the speaker system doesn't work well in there. I'll head over to the library then. Research time." He shot her another grin, and turned away from her, strutting in the opposite direction as to where she wanted to be. Emily waited until he was out of sight, until she could no longer hear his footsteps crunching in the deepening snow, and then moved as quickly as she could to the car, her ankle still screaming in pain, and her instincts screaming that she had just met a murderer.

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Most of the out-buildings were in a severe state of disrepair; their roofs were collapsing and some walls had long since fallen down, bits of brick and rubble hazardously scattered about under the snow.

Hotch turned his back to the latest building they were searching and surveyed the land around them. Theodore Wells had still not been found. His house was coated with a thick layer of dust, and mice had taken up residence in his sofa. Not that Hotch could blame them; it was minus eight outside and even the grit on the roads had begun to freeze over.

He looked around for Emily, but she was still nowhere to be seen and a flame of panic ignited in his chest. The roads were becoming treacherous, and as much as he knew she was a good driver, he couldn't help but be perturbed by her absence.

"Morgan," he said in an undertone. "How long did Prentiss say she'd be?"

"Did she not call you?" Morgan said, surprise in his eyes. "She said she'd be an hour."

Hotch looked away from the other agent, agitation and annoyance now warming him up. "If she didn't call, she didn't anticipate being away this long." He pulled out his cell and hit the speed dial key for Emily. It cut straight through to voicemail. "She's probably in a bad patch for reception."

"Or she's turned it off by accident when she sat down in the car. She did that last week, remember?" Morgan said with a shrug.

Hotch nodded, he did remember. He just didn't like the feeling of dread he was getting, and he was feeling responsible. Her ankle was still not as strong as it should have been to let her out in the field. She had her weapon, granted, but she wasn't able to run or move smoothly. "According to Garcia's plan of the ranch, there should be three lots of stables around here. It seems like they've been demolished."

"We need to consider cellars underground. The building on top may have gone, but that's not to say their foundations have disappeared," Morgan said. "We could do with a 'copter with heat sensors as soon as the weather's cleared."

Detective Winters had just moved near to them in time to hear Morgan's comment. "We're going to be waiting days," she said. "This snow storm's been forecast to last another forty hours. Everything's at stand still. We always get snow early round here, but never in this volume. I'll have a group of my officers see if there are any areas of thinner snow, but this site's looking unlikely – we've searched everywhere now."

A sinking feeling of frustration washed over Hotch and he clenched his jaw. After finding the rope, it had seemed so likely that this was the place Carla was being kept. "We need to try and get the rope to the lab to see if it is a match for what was used on the girls." He walked away from Morgan and Winters, and took out his cell again.

"Garcia," he said, after hearing one of her shorter greetings.

"Boss man, what can I do for you?"

"When's the last time Wells took money from his account and where was it?" Hotch said, trying to control his impatience.

"It was... two days ago in Rapid City. He withdrew $600. He also collected a parking fine on third and east." He heard her tapping away. "He's definitely doing some home improvements – he just ordered a new sofa and chairs to be delivered to... Light Foot Ranch House. Hotch! That's not on the list of properties he owns, but it is about three miles east of where you are now. Go!"

"Send me the details and Penelope," he paused, knowing the affect his next words would have on the analyst. "Have you heard from Prentiss?"

"She's with Morgan." It was said as if it were an indisputable fact.

"They separated. Emily stayed at the college to ask a few more questions about Baker. She's not turned up here yet and her cell is going straight through to voicemail," his voice was monotone. No emotion allowed. He was a master at hiding what he felt, even from himself sometimes.

"Hotch..." Garcia's voice waivered.

"She's probably having trouble driving through the snow. It's dropped below minus eight, which means that the rock-salt on the roads ices over," Hotch said. "If there are any officers with you, have them take the road from the college to here; and check she hasn't gotten in any trouble – and before that, see if the car is still in the college parking lot." He hung up, knowing that if he said anymore he would give something away.

"Everything okay, Hotch?" Morgan said, walking over to him with Winters.

Hotch glared at Morgan. He shouldn't have left Prentiss when she wasn't up to full strength. "We have another building to search. Light Foot Ranch House."

Winters nodded. "I know where that is. Let's go." She shouted to her officers, and like a flock of animals, they turned and headed toward the parked cars.

Hotch followed behind with Morgan at his side. "Why didn't you stay with Prentiss?" he said without looking at the man.

"She was adamant that I go!" Morgan said. "You know what Emily's like. If I had suggested I stay with her..."

"Derek, she sprained her ankle badly. There's no way she can run on it, and if she's fallen somewhere. How could you leave your partner?" Hotch fought the fire inside him, trying to tell himself that on one level Morgan was right. Emily was fiery; she would have insisted Morgan go, and he obviously hadn't intended on being very long otherwise she would have called him.

"Hotch, man. I know you're worried, but so am I. Emily will be fine – she's a good agent and a strong woman. If it were me out there, you wouldn't be panicking like this!" Morgan said, his voice slightly louder.

Hotch looked away. He had a point. This was why he needed to get rid of any feelings he had about Emily Prentiss.

"I know it's different. If it was JJ, you'd be feeling the same. And given that Emily looks like the girls who have been murdered – but you wait, Hotch. Give her another thirty minutes and she'll be on the phone to you, telling you she's cracked the case," Morgan's voice was now soothing, and Hotch appreciated his comment about JJ. It was true, he'd be feeling exactly the same if it was one of the other female agents out there.

"Prentiss isn't the right age for the UnSub," Hotch said. "It's too much of a specific type – he's not going to break it." He hoped not. He knew that the UnSub would become less choosy about his victims as he felt the pressure of being cornered. But as of yet, they were nowhere near cornering him.

The drive to Light Foot Ranch took twenty-five minutes when it should have taken five. The roads they drove on were like skating rinks covered with a layer of frosting, and at least four times Hotch had to work hard on stopping them from skidding. JJ had driven with Detective Winters, and Reid and Rossi were somewhere behind, having picked up three officers whose car had given up the fight back at Wells' ranch.

Light Foot Ranch was much smaller than Hotch had anticipated. The six buildings that Garcia had said it consisted of were all standing, restored to a high standard. One looked to have been converted into a sauna and steam room, another, a secured garage. Outside the main building was an assortment of equipment, covered with a cloth to protect in from the elements.

"Looks like Theodore's been doing some home improvements," Morgan said. "But this isn't his home - " he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell. Hotch found himself immediately on edge.

"Talk to me, baby girl," Morgan said, and Hotch's hope sailed away. "What you got?"

"A whole lot of loving," Garcia said. It made no difference if you told her she was on speaker. "The ranch you are now at belongs to a Mrs Alana Ulverton, who happens to be Theodore's maternal aunt. She has taken up residence in Ottawa and has bequeathed her home in SD to her nephew. The legalities are currently being overseen by her lawyer, hence it isn't yet in Well's name. He has had planning permission for various alterations, including having the cellars filled with concrete to reinforce the foundations. Something else you should know... oh, hello..." she cut off.

"What is it Garcia?" Morgan said impatiently. "Don't keep me hanging."

"Your missing FBI agent has just returned, looking very cold and snowy."

Hotch closed his eyes briefly and let out the breath he'd been holding since he'd become aware of her non-appearance.

"Hotch," Garcia said. "Emily wants to speak to you." He heard muffled noise as the two swapped seats and he swiped the cell from Morgan's hand, taking it off speaker.

"Prentiss," he said. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He heard a long sigh. "You're at the wrong place, Hotch. It's not Wells who's taking these girls. It's Edmund Baker."

"How do you know?" He could feel Morgan's eyes boring into him, wanting to know what was being said.

"Reports of stalking. He knew Carrie – Morgan will have filled you in on that. And he followed me from the gym," she gave a slight groan.

"What did he do?" Hotch felt his back stiffen and became aware of the weapons he carried. Baker had better not have touched her.

"He didn't. I had my weapon; he made some excuse about taking the scenic route to class and asked if I wanted to go for coffee. He lied to us through his teeth when we interviewed him, but he's clever, Hotch, and he knows we're onto him," she was talking quickly, emphasizing certain words. He trusted her instincts, but he also knew that they had to eliminate Theodore Wells. Both fit the profile, and they couldn't afford to get it wrong now.

"I'll have an APB but out on Baker, and get Winters to send officers onto campus. Then we'll move to his ranch, if it's possible. The weather's worsening, Emily, and it may be that we have to get these men home. Why were you missing for so long?" he said, watching as Winters managed to open Wells' door without breaking it down.

"I fell. That's when I lost my cell. Then the car wouldn't start so I messed around with the engine and managed to get it going. Thankfully, being ankle deep in snow has stopped any swelling. I'll meet you at Baker's place," she said.

"Emily," he began, but Garcia had already taken her place before he'd had a chance to tell her to stay at the station.

"You may want to know, sir," Garcia said. "That good ole Teddy boy has updated his blog with a few interesting details about the murderers, including a couple of comments on Carrie and Emmy, along the lines of that they had it coming to them. I'll send you the text. Oh, and what do you want me to do about Prentiss? I can try and lock her in the bathroom?"

"Thank you, Garcia, but I'm pretty sure she'd find her way out. Just tell her I'll call to confirm we're heading that way. She's not to leave until she's heard from me." He hung up and passed the phone to Morgan and followed Winters into Light Foot Ranch, ignoring Morgan's questioning looks.

The house had been immaculately refurbished; new flooring, repainted, carved wooden bookcases that looked as if they had been restored. "This is why he's taken a sabbatical," Hotch said. "His own renovation project."

Rossi, who had just re-entered the front room, nodded. "Everything is pristine. Neat, tidy and excellent quality. We know he's got money and this is how he's chosen to spend it. Garcia's correct about the cellars – they've been filled in."

"We still need to bring him in for questioning," Hotch said. "He's one of two prime suspects. We need to speak with him, especially given the content of his website." He looked over at Winters. "Let's get this place locked up again and have Garcia trace Wells' whereabouts. We need to head over to Baker's residence before the snow gets worse."

"I don't think we can do that," Winters said. "Your analyst called with all the details and the ranch he lives on is isolated at the best of times. In mid-winter it's pretty much completely cut off, and right now, the tracks to it will be treacherous. I suggest you take your team back to the station and get some rest."

Hotch frowned, not likely the truth in what she had to say. The weather was worsening. He could see the snow flailing past the window, blocking the view of the cars that were only a few metres in front. "Have your team searched the rest of the outbuildings?"

Winters nodded. "They've found nothing. We've got all buildings on the plan accounted for. That's not to say he doesn't have access to property elsewhere, but I'm sure your analyst can find that out. We've got APB's out on both men. There's not far they can go in this weather – surely whoever it is can't take anyone else." Her face darkened and Hotch knew she was thinking about Carla and the unlikelihood of finding her anytime soon. "Depending on where he's keeping that young girl – she may not have a chance in weather conditions like this."

"Let's hope she's somewhere warm," Rossi said. "Winters is right, Hotch. We can't go anywhere in weather like this. It's risking lives. Let's go back, eat, and summarise what we know. We need to do a more complete profile on the couple too."

"That's fine, Dave. I'll call Prentiss and let her know she's to stay put." He took out his cell and made the call. He heard her shuffling papers in the background and Garcia clicking keys.

"Drive safely," Emily said at the end of the brief conversation, and walking outside where he found himself mid-calf high in snow.

"Dave," Hotch called back into the house. "Are you happy to drive in this?" He saw the older man evaluating the road, his hands tucked deeply into his pockets. JJ was stood next to him, looking a little more used to the weather.

"Hotch," she said. "I've driven in worse conditions that this, in a vehicle that's not as well equipped. I'm happy to drive."

"Here're the keys," Rossi said. "I've no issue, but I wouldn't say I was that experienced. It was bad enough getting here."

"Let's get going then," Hotch said, looking around for Morgan and Reid. "Morgan!" His shout echoed around the emptiness. "Where the hell have they gone? Spence?"

There was the sound of hurried footsteps and rustled snow, and Reid appeared looking flushed. "We've found something in the lean-to, behind a pile of new wood!"

They followed him behind the main house where a small, doorless lean-to had been built. Morgan was kneeling down in the snow, half of him squashed round the wood, torchlight illuminating his find. "He's got to have another property somewhere, or he's using a cave system, because this guy's our perp." Morgan pulled himself back round, his hand clasped around a bundle of bloody clothes. "Light blue sweater, blue Levi jeans. That's what Isabel was wearing the day she went missing. I need an evidence bag." Detective Winters passed one to him and Morgan bagged his find. "They've been here some time too, judging by the state of them."

"We need to do a more thorough search of this place," Winters said. "As soon as the snow's stopped I'll have a group of crime scene officers out here on overtime. But there's no point even starting to do that now; anything they clear will be filled in again pretty swiftly."

"He's not keeping her here anyway," Hotch said. "He wouldn't spoil his palace. What does puzzle me though is why we haven't found one of his cars. We know he's using the Ford Explorer to travel around in, but where's the Sequoia?"

"Possibly at the place where he's holding Carla," Morgan said. "It's a big vehicle. We can get a helicopter out when the storm's stopped and do a search from the air."

"And until then, let's wait somewhere it's warm," Rossi said. "We have to face it – we can't physically do any more, but we can go through the profiles and brief Winters' team on the second UnSubs."

Hotch nodded, looking at the detective who was stood grim-faced, inspecting the bag of evidence. "I hate to say this but..."

"We need to keep men on this site," she finished his sentence. "I've got four ex-rangers out here now. They'll be in their element." She gave half a smile. "Get driving, agents. It's going to take you a good hour or more to get back."

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Carla was cold. She could no longer feel her toes, or fingers or nose. Her eyes were heavy with an unnatural sleep that she continued to fight. He hadn't been back yet, and although the things he'd done to her had been horrific, he was all she had to stay alive. Last night, he'd brought warm food, soup and a kettle. He'd made sweet tea and a switched on a heater, which he'd turned off when he'd left.

He'd never come back.

The coldness outside had penetrated her skin, into her bones like some form of malignant tumour. It was eating her. She shivered violently, the cords around her wrists and ankles rubbing against the numbed skin. She didn't feel it, beginning to drift into unconsciousness where everything was warm, toasty warm and the cuts on her skin and bruises had never been put there.

Thank you for reading, and hopefully you are enjoying it! Please let me know!

Sarah :)

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