Thank you once again to Lily Moonlight for the betaing, and to the reviewers of chapter 20. So mant reviews!! If you keep reviewing at that rate, I'll be so addicted I'll have to do a sequel!
This is a bit of an experimental chapter – let me know what you think, and I do hope you enjoy.
Calverville Point, South Dakota
'How can you prove whether at this moment we are sleeping, and all our thoughts are a dream; or whether we are awake, and talking to one another in the waking state?'
- Plato
Chapter 21
Morgan tapped his fingers against the table and Reid glared at him to stop the noise. Rossi saw the look and wondered how bad the cabin fever would get before the children got the chance to play outside again and sent a silent prayer up to the heavens for a warm, melting wind.
It had been a long afternoon, preceded by a long morning, preceded by a night where he had found solace in the arms of a good woman, who could cook and make him laugh, two qualities that none of his previous wives had possessed. He smiled at the memories they had created: two free and single people enjoying each other's company and conversation without any obligations or expectations. The night had been somewhat marred by hearing Morgan and Reid argue about the Chicago Bears and some stats from six seasons ago through the wall after both had ingested too much caffeine. He was considering petitioning Hotch to place a ban on coffee after nine at night.
Rossi looked across at Morgan, who was now back to being buried in the information on his laptop, lists and details of women who potentially could fit the profile of the female UnSub. That was this afternoon's task: to whittle down the eighteen possibilities.
His computer screen had switch to the screen saver, hiding the photos and information behind. He sat back in his chair and watched the pixels make pretty patterns and thought about the team that were seducing men and taking them captive.
He couldn't think about Sophie.
He disposed of the colours on the screen and began to look at less savoury images. Elise Revington. He looked at her picture. She was pretty and blonde, but the scowl on her face marred her attractiveness and she was trained as a beautician. In the last five months she had been hospitalised twelve times with injuries consistent with spousal abuse. She was living with her boyfriend who was a known user and had a two year old girl. He jotted down her name on his note pad and made a couple of notes explaining why she was an unlikely suspect.
The next girl was much the same: in and out of care for all of her teenage years and now renting a small property on the outskirts of the county. Two children, the first born when she was just seventeen. He knew that the UnSub would not have children. No way. She would not expose children to the violence that they were putting these men through if children were present. She would also be unable to take responsibility for any children, and if she had become pregnant at any time, would have had an abortion.
Rossi sat back again, glancing round at his colleagues. Reid had retreated into his land of stats and facts; Morgan had gone in search of coffee; JJ was on the phone to the police chief over in another state about their next possible case and Hotch and Emily were sat in a corner engaged in a heated discussion that had something to do with the location of the missing men. He would have liked to analyse their behaviour, and then said something to perturb them, but he had work to do.
Next on his list was a twenty three year old woman named Ellen Reeves. She was from North Dakota and had been in care from the age of six after her mother had committed suicide and no relative had been able to look after her. She'd had a rap sheet as long as his wrist as a juvenile, but as an adult there hadn't been a single incident.
The only aspect connecting her with Calverville Point, that Garcia had somehow managed to dig out of the ether, was that she had been seen by a doctor in the area four years ago and treated for a skin complaint.
He squinted at the picture. She looked familiar, and he wrote her name down as being a possible. He'd have Garcia see if she could find any other information on her, and debated showing Katie Walsh the picture. If she was like the girl Katie had seen then it would make her an even stronger lead.
An email from his publisher flashed up on screen and he clicked on the cancel button. The new book was proving to be a trial to write, and he was debating delaying his publisher and including the two present cases, once they had been solved. They would make for interesting reading, he was sure.
"You want a coffee, Dave?" Morgan said, peering round the doorway.
Rossi nodded. "In fact, I'll come and help you make it."
He had just stood up when Garcia entered, her hair sliding down from its clip with the force at which she was walking.
"Guys!" she said, her voice full of urgency. Everyone looked up, silence falling around them.
Morgan tapped his fingers against the table and Reid glared at him to stop the noise. JJ turned around and caught Morgan's eye, raising an eyebrow. Luckily he took more notice of hints from her than he did from Reid and he stopped just as the person she was trying to contact answered their phone.
"Detective Richards," she said. "I'm Agent Jareau from the Behavioural Analysis Unit at the FBI. I've just picked up the messages you've left for me." There had been eleven messages in total, left over the space of thirteen hours.
"Agent Jareau. I'm glad you've been able to contact me."
JJ could tell that the detective was being polite and really wanted to know why she hadn't been on the phone after the first message. "I'm sorry it's taken so long. We're in South Dakota at present on another case and I've been unable to access my voicemail." This was true. It hadn't been until Garcia had waved her magic wand around twenty minutes ago that JJ had managed to check her messages. There had been forty-eight in total, which was less than she'd been expecting, although that wasn't counting Detective Richards' eleven.
"Have you been able to look at the details I've sent? We could really use your team's help."
JJ swallowed a sigh. She'd been checking emails regularly since they had arrived in Calverville Point, and each working hour had brought another plea for help. She'd briefly looked at the case from Utah and flagged it as once to come back to as soon as it looked like they were on their way out of Calverville. "At the moment we're in the middle of another investigation, so we don't know where we are heading to yet. It may be that you find your perpetrator before we can get to you, and hopefully that will be the case. I will contact you in due course and find out how it's going." She waited for the expected barrage of frustration that would be spewed in to the receiver and down the line into JJ's ear.
Instead she got a sigh.
"At the moment I have no way in which to direct my officers to look for this guy. He's a serial rapist and he has the female population terrified. He hit three times in the last week and the media are going crazy. How long will it be, Agent Jareau, until he kills someone?" His words were slow and deliberate, exhaustion resonating in every syllable.
This was the bit of the job she hated. "Without knowing the full details we can't advise you. I will pass what you have sent onto Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, who may be able to send you some suggestions, but I can't promise anything as at the present..."
"I understand. Just please let me know as soon as you can help." The dial tone buzzed into her head and she put her cell back in her pocket, sitting down on her chair at her makeshift desk. She reopened the email that had been sent regarding the case and scanned through it. It was one she would prioritize, certainly, she only hoped they could tidy up everything where they were now before things in Utah became worse.
Her cell vibrated in her pocket and she took a look at it, seeing a message from Will. He and Henry had taken a walk out to the chocolate shop that Garcia had been gazing at fondly whenever in sight of it. Apparently she had a present from her son waiting for her back at Jolene's. She smiled, thankful for the light that had just been sent to her. Something to pull her through the rest of the afternoon.
Closing her email, she began to look at the files Garcia had sent on possibly female suspects. Already six had been looked at by Morgan, Rossi and Hotch, and judging by the discussion that was taking place in the corner, the one logged by Hotch had also been viewed by Emily. She raised her eyebrows at Em as she caught her eye and was thoroughly ignored. JJ gave an inward smile, her eyes returning to the screen.
Theresa Cooper looked unlikely. She was employed in a cafe in the town, but was also registered to work in a home for elderly people, where she also resided as live-in night help. JJ glanced through the rest of the information, including details of Theresa's finances. There was one coincidence which made JJ flag up her name: whenever one of the men had gone missing, Theresa had bought gas.
JJ huddled down into her chair and was just about to open the next file when Garcia entered, her hair sliding down from its clip with the force at which she was walking.
"Guys!" she said, her voice full of urgency. Everyone looked up, silence falling around them.
Morgan tapped his fingers against the table and Reid glared at him to stop the noise. Hotch ignored them, leaving them to squabble between themselves. He was itching to get outside and to start searching the area near the college, breaking out of the four walls and feeling fresh air, however cold, on his skin. He looked at the window where the condensation had caused patterns created by fingers to emerge.
"If Reid notices you staring he'll start to recite facts about it," Emily said without looking up from her laptop.
"He's too wrapped up in his reading," Hotch said. "What are you thinking?" He needed conversation right now. The day had already been long, time spent ploughing through victimology, again; a geographical profile, again and debates about what was actually happening to the men after they had been abducted. It was all speculation, of course. Educated speculation, but nothing solid.
Emily sighed. "I've been in care all my life. I've been abused in some way by most adults in authority that I've come into contact with. Why do I trust you?"
He turned round to face her, interested in where this line of thought was leading. "I've done something to make you trust me."
She nodded, her dark hair falling over both shoulders. She pushed it away from her face and he wondered if it felt as shiny as it looked. "Okay. So I've gained your trust. How has that happened? I'm bitter about authority figures as they've usually hurt me in some way, so you must have done me a favour." She edged her chair closer to him, blocking their conversation from the rest of the team. He smelt her perfume and it reminded him of bed and her scent on the sheets he had slept under last night. When they got home, if they ever got home, he was going to have to do something about this, this thing between them. Maybe if they acted on it, addressed it, and gave it a box to remain in, they could begin to control it.
"If I've done you a favour I have a certain amount of power. Maybe I didn't report you to the police, or I gave you a break with a job," he said.
"And why would you do that?" she said, eyes ablaze with thoughts. It was when she was like this he most regretted his attitude when she'd first joined. Intelligence combined with insight. In some respects she was on the same level as Reid, but she was tougher. He didn't need to protect her – he just wanted to.
"Because I see the fire in you that reminds me of myself. I was drawn to you from the first time we met," he swallowed. This was sounding uncomfortably close to home and now Emily's eyes were dancing and he was sure it wasn't because she was about to disclose the UnSubs names and their address. "You were someone I knew had been abused, so I knew you would be pliable and easy to dominate, and I also recognised a sadistic streak through a need to get revenge."
She nodded. "You knew my background. Maybe you were a teacher. Whatever you were or are, you need power and the opportunity to use it. We know you probably took care of your sick mother and that was a burden to you. You also have a history of violence, even if it has been almost legitimate or unrecorded." She licked her lips unconsciously, biting them together. "Hotch – this guys a professional. Teacher or..."
"Law enforcer." He finished her sentence. "He could know about this investigation already."
"I disagree. If he did he would have had her take someone else while we've been here as proof he's better than us. He wouldn't be able to resist showing off his power," she said, her words and tone challenging him.
"If he was aware been were on our way then he did that," Hotch said. "And since then the weather will have stopped any further abductions. He knows."
"And if he does, what will his next move be?" she said. "I suppose it depends on how intelligent he is. If he does nothing and we draw a blank, he could get away with it for years longer. If he shows off, then he could end up throwing us a line."
Emily caught his eye; she knew what this would mean. Another disappearance could help break the case. "We need to be open minded about his profession. A teacher would be aware of the FBI presence also, and could also engage trust by providing a false reference or forging grades. The school Jenni Appleby attended was told that Detective Winters was asking for our assistance – it's a possibility, Hotch ."
Hotch nodded. "We need to look at male officers and teachers without alerting anyone. I think we should keep Detective Winters out of this until we have a clearer idea."
He wondered what she was like to dance with.
The randomness of the thought surprised him and he wondered what had provoked it. Before he could analyse the thought some more, Garcia entered, her hair sliding down from its clip with the force at which she was walking.
"Guys!" she said, her voice full of urgency. Everyone looked up, silence falling around them.
Morgan tapped his fingers against the table and Reid glared at him to stop the noise. Morgan was doing it on purpose, Reid knew, and the rhythm was identifiable as being a taunt. Ka – tie, Ka – tie, it sang, Morgan's grin growing wider as Reid's exasperation grew. Then JJ, who was on the phone, sent over a glare and the tapping stopped.
"If you have a problem with me spending time with her, then just say," Reid said, his eyes back on his computer screen. "I can understand how you feel usurped."
He almost laughed out loud at Morgan's expression which he caught sight of out of the corner of his eye.
"Usurped? You have not usurped me, Reid!"
Reid smiled, and knew his expression was now causing Morgan further unrest. He focused back on what he was reading, deciding that he had won their sparring for the day, making up for the lost match last night when Morgan had waved his knowledge about the Chicago Bears around like a red flag.
Hunching toward the screen, he began to recount facts about female serial killers, seeing if any would add another piece of the jigsaw. Their female UnSub was a team killer, and therefore likely to be submissive. That ruled out two of the files Garcia had given them, as both had been expelled from schools for bullying. The psychologist Joel Norris had identified seven phases of serial killers; aura, trolling, wooing, capture, murder, totem and depression. It was one of the easier theories to understand, and one that Reid would often use to help him identify the characteristics of a killer.
Reid focused on the 'totem' phase. This was the stage after the kill, where the murderer was on a low and would use trophies or photographs to relive the experience. For this team, there was possibly no clear totem phase, or if there was, it was brief. They had profiled that the pair were torturing them and Reid believed that to be correct. If so, they possibly had one or two men alive at one time, so would be constantly living the captive and murder phases.
So when did they go through the depression phase? This was the point where the killer no longer took satisfaction from their previous murder. Reliving it became rather like a disappointing ending to a story or TV programme, and possibly became disassociated from the act. The aura phase would then set in again, and the cycle restart. However, even though they worked as a team, it did not mean that their cycles were in tandem.
"She's the one controlling when they take the men," Reid said to himself. "Her cycle is quicker, probably because she has an attention deficit disorder. He would prolong the torture, but she needs a new toy to play with." He rolled a pencil between his fingers, nimbly manoeuvring it with unconscious dexterity. "We can rule out women who completed high school."
Reid began to consider the remaining files, skim reading the details on education. Unfortunately, his criteria failed to eliminate more than three of the remaining potentials.
It was time to consider another perspective.
He glanced up from his computer and looked around the room. Sometimes ideas came to him by separating his mind from what he was considering and letting his subconscious do the work. Rossi was engrossed in reading, JJ looked frustrated and then smiled when she looked at a message on her cell. Probably Will. Morgan was examining his empty coffee cup and looking disappointed and Reid wondered not for the first time how Morgan was capable of drinking cold coffee. And Emily and Hotch were tucked into a corner, finishing each other's sentences again. They thought he hadn't noticed, but he had. Mainly because he'd heard Garcia and JJ gossiping about it once near his desk back at the BAU.
He returned to victimology and Hickey's review of the differences between male and female serial killers. Women were far more likely to kill relatives or people they knew. If the female UnSub here chose the victims, then they possibly represented men from the past that she had been abused by. The range in ages therefore suggested that she had had multiple abusers. They had already noted the fact that she had been in care, but what if there had been some record of abuse. He began to study the files again, knowing that although this could not eliminate anyone as more cases of sexual abuse were unreported than reported, it could highlight somebody.
He had just written down a name when Garcia entered, her hair sliding down from its clip with the force at which she was walking.
"Guys!" she said, her voice full of urgency. Everyone looked up, silence falling around them.
Morgan tapped his fingers against the table and Reid glared at him to stop the noise. Emily could tell by the way Hotch was bristling he wanted to leave the room and get some air; or, alternatively, send Morgan and Reid out on a long hike up a distant mountain. They were all feeling claustrophobic after a day spent entirely in each other's company within the same four walls. She glanced up and saw Hotch staring at the window, seemingly admiring the condensation.
"If Reid notices you staring he'll start to recite facts about it," she said looking back down at her laptop so he didn't know for how long she'd been noticing him.
"He's too wrapped up in his reading," Hotch said. "What are you thinking?" If she told him what she was thinking in between having thoughts about the cases, then he'd probably have her reassigned or sectioned for stalking. She was replaying the night before which was her way of escaping from the damply hot room, and imagining different ways for last night to end, other than her walking down the corridor with him watching.
She sighed, deciding that the best way to get out of this was to become someone else for a few minutes, and returned her thoughts to the case. "I've been in care all my life. I've been abused in some way by most adults in authority that I've come into contact with. Why do I trust you?"
He turned round to face her, his eyes keen. "I've done something to make you trust me."
She nodded, her hair falling annoyingly over both shoulders. She pushed it away from her face and wondered if it looked greasy, as she hadn't washed it that morning. "Okay. So I've gained your trust. How has that happened? I'm bitter about authority figures as they've usually hurt me in some way, so you must have done me a favour." She edged her chair closer to him, blocking their conversation from the rest of the team. Surprisingly, he didn't back away, or even sit back in his chair. He leant forward some, closing the gap further between them and she caught the scent that was inherently him, musky spices. Her pulse rate rose, doing nothing to quell the fantasies she was having to resort to.
"If I've done you a favour I have a certain amount of power. Maybe I didn't report you to the police, or I gave you a break with a job," he said.
"And why would you do that?" she said, starting to enjoy their role play. They had done this before. Any discomfort that she thought Hotch might feel after her midnight gift fell away. She liked this meeting of minds with someone who was at least as intelligent as she was, and could spar with words on the same level.
"Because I see the fire in you that reminds me of myself. I was drawn to you from the first time we met," he swallowed. Something bubbled inside her at the words and she wondered if he could see they had another meaning, a deeper one, one she wished was hidden. "You were someone I knew had been abused, so I knew you would be pliable and easy to dominate, and I also recognised a sadistic streak through a need to get revenge." She felt disappointed. Had he added that so quickly because he didn't want her to get the wrong impression? She cornered herself into a box where only work was.
"You knew my background. Maybe you were a teacher. Whatever you were or are, you need power and the opportunity to use it. We know you probably took care of your sick mother and that was a burden to you. You also have a history of violence, even if it has been almost legitimate or unrecorded." She licked her lips unconsciously, biting them together. "Hotch – this guys a professional. Teacher or..."
"Law enforcer." He finished her sentence. He was the only person she didn't mind doing that. "He could know about this investigation already."
"I disagree. If he did he would have had her take someone else while we've been here as proof he's better than us. He wouldn't be able to resist showing off his power," she said, challenging him with her words and tone.
"If he was aware been were on our way then he did that," Hotch said. "And since then the weather will have stopped any further abductions. He knows."
"And if he does, what will his next move be?" she said. "I suppose it depends on how intelligent he is. If he does nothing and we draw a blank, he could get away with it for years longer. If he shows off, then he could end up throwing us a line."
Emily caught his eye; she knew what this would mean. He gave her a knowing look. They were on the same page again, at least professionally. "We need to be open minded about his profession. A teacher would be aware of the FBI presence also, and could also engage trust by providing a false reference or forging grades. The school Jenni Appleby attended was told that Detective Winters was asking for our assistance – it's a possibility, Hotch ."
Hotch nodded. "We need to look at male officers and teachers without alerting anyone. I think we should keep Detective Winters out of this until we have a clearer idea."
She wondered what he was like to sleep with and the thought from nowhere surprised her. She wasn't thinking about sex, but actually sharing a bed. The act of sleeping was so personal, so intimate, as it was when you were at your most vulnerable, that she had rarely spent the whole night with any of her lovers, not wanting to give any of them that little bit of her soul. Before she could analyse the thought some more, Garcia entered, her hair sliding down from its clip with the force at which she was walking.
"Guys!" she said, her voice full of urgency. Everyone looked up, silence falling around them.
Morgan tapped his fingers against the table and Reid glared at him to stop the noise. He raised an eyebrow at Reid and repeated the same rhythmic pattern, knowing that Reid was understanding it the same way a tribal chief understood tom toms. Loud and clear. Morgan then caught sight of JJ's glare and the desire to irritate Reid was overwhelmed by a desire to remain alive.
He exhaled deeply, not quite a sign, more of a complete emptying of his lungs, and looked at the screen. It had been too long cooped up in these four walls and he was itching for some action. However, the only place that action was going to happen was in his brain, and for that to work at full capacity, he needed to place his attention on some input.
Reading through the information on one of the possible suspects, his mind wandered around the avenues of the thought process needed to torture and kill several men. He knew they were focusing on the female because she would be easier to track down, but giving some thought to the motivations for the male's penchant for torture. They had already assumed that he'd had to care of an infirm mother, although it could have been several years since she'd passed. His father would have been a bully and probably subjected him to painful and humiliating punishments, resulting in a child who would have had a passive-aggressive personality type and found it difficult to sustain friendships and relationships. As an adult he would have moved frequently from place to place and would have used prostitutes frequently. He would have sought out women who posed no threat to him and whom he could dominate. He may have been married, and it would have been an abusive relationship.
It wasn't difficult to profile such a guy. It was something they would see before and no doubt again in the not so distant future. But why the prolonged torture? Was it purely about control or was there a homosexual element to it as well? If they had a body they would know so much more.
Feeling frustrated, Morgan stood up and stretched his heads, catching snippets of Emily and Hotch's conversation about the likely profession of the male UnSub. He cast his eye over to them briefly, noting their body language and the way Hotch had made himself the same height as Emily to make better eye contact. Wondering how long it would take them to finally do something that this tedious mating ritual, he made his way toward the kitchen where Garcia had found herself a spot, a menagerie of brightly coloured beanie babies decorating the worktop.
"Aren't they a health and safety hazard?" he said, placing his hands on her back and applying pressure to the spots where he knew she felt tension from being sat at a computer for most of the day.
"Only to people who question their power," she said, gazing up at him. He loved the way she could make him feel like the only man in the universe, even though he knew he clearly wasn't. "What can I do for you, my piece of hot candied chocolate?"
He smiled at the new name. "I needed a break. It's so hot in there the condensation's asking for air conditioning."
"And how are the rest of my babies holding up?" Garcia said, her eyes now fixed back on her computer screen. She was looking at a website that appeared to be rather official, some of the details he could see giving it away to be a lawyer's back office, and something Garcia definitely did not have permission to access without a warrant.
"You sure you should you be in there, Baby Girl?" he said. There had been enough trouble in the past with Garcia and her illicit information seeking and he didn't want her to have any more of that stress.
"As sure as a chocolate éclair stuffed with cream. How did you say my pretties were?" she said, obviously trying to keep him off the topic of her current virtual playground.
"They were fine when I left. Everyone's frustrated that we can't get out there yet, although no more snow's fallen for about five hours," he said, craning his neck to look out of the small window.
"And happily doodle dandy for you, no more is forecast for another two days. In fact, we have a rise in temperature over the next few hours which will prompt a nice gentle thaw. Now why don't you go find out who else wants coffee and then you can put those heavenly fingers to good use by spooning sugar into my mug." She turned around, the computer screen showing a rather innocuous looking weather site, and pushed her mug towards him.
He shot her a smile and nodded; he knew when he wasn't wanted. Garcia needed to pry without him there and given the expression on her face, this was non-negotiable. "Sure thing, sweet lips," he said, taking the mug and walking back across the bull pen. He put his head around the door, spotting Rossi looking up.
"You want a coffee, Dave?" he said, noticing that Hotch and Emily were still engrossed in each other.
Rossi nodded. "In fact, I'll come and help you make it."
Rossi had just stood up when Garcia entered, her hair sliding down from its clip with the force at which she was walking.
"Guys!" she said, her voice full of urgency. Everyone looked up, silence falling around them. "I think I know where the girls are."
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Sarah x