Chapter 21
Answers
"The trouble with life isn't that there is no answer, it's that there are so many answers."
-Ruth Benedict
There is a natural reflex to be startled when awakened by someone pounding on your door in the middle of the night. This is compounded exponentially by the awareness – upon waking – that you're in bed with a team mate and there's another calling your name between knocks. Emily's eyes shot open, meeting a matching expression on JJ's face. There was a split second of panic as brains fought to catch up to physical instinct.
"Come on, Em!" Morgan's voice through the door was exactly the grounding they needed. Adrenaline took over but not because of their situation. JJ shot for the bathroom with her go bag, already shedding clothes. Emily lunged for the door, fear and excitement both threatening to fracture her trademark detachment.
"We have something?" she demanded as soon as the door ripped open, interrupting Derek mid-knock.
"Yeah, Garcia woke Hotch and Rossi. We gotta move!" his tone was also torn between reactions. This was what they'd been waiting for. A break. Had Djinn struck again? Every crime got them closer to catching the killer but every clue meant a life they hadn't saved.
"Conference room in ten?" Emily checked, knowing that she could actually be ready in 5. Three if she didn't worry about bedhead.
"No! The garage. We're hitting the road ASAP!" Derek replied over his shoulder, already heading down the hall to the next profiler's room. Which would happen to be JJ's.
"Morgan, go get Reid and Kate. I'll wake JJ. I have a key." Emily called. It made more sense. It was more efficient. The fact that it was also half true (she did still have the key from her morning coffee delivery) nicely concealed the half that wasn't. Fortunately, Derek was too focused on his mission of rallying the team to bother examining the statement or her for ulterior motives. He simply reversed course and bolted back up the hallway, undoubtedly panicking sleeping guests with the urgent militancy of his pounding feet.
Emily let the door slam shut as she stripped and redressed with a speed that would've brought applause from quick-change artists worldwide. She was just finger combing her hair (thank god she'd gone back to the natural waves, that damn straight look had taken waaaaay too long) when JJ emerged from the bathroom, doing up the last few buttons of her blouse.
"SUV's. Garcia found something. You missed the third one from the top." Emily helpfully informed as she did up her boots. JJ made a noise of irritation but shot her a quick smile of thanks. Personally, Emily preferred to fill her ready bag with professional wear sans-buttons. It saved a few seconds in situations like these.
"Whatever she found must be bad." JJ replied, knowing that they wouldn't have been ripped from bed in the pre-dawn hours for a tip that was anything less than lethal.
"Most likely." Emily agreed, strapping on her gun and badge and heading to the door. She poised her hand just over the knob, watching JJ for the moment she signaled she was ready. Gun, badge, shoes, jacket – done! JJ was at her side but covered the door handle with her own hand, staying Emily's fingers briefly. This was their last chance for anything personal before work swept them both away.
"Before we go out there I need to tell you two things." JJ forced them both to take half a second of breath, knowing their job was about to throw them onto a roller coaster at top speed. Emily felt a chill. The gravity of that sentence did not bode well. Her eyes rapidly scanned JJ's face for a hint of the words to come but the only read she could get was tension in the blonde's resolve. Remorse?
"What?" Prentiss steeled herself and her expression, trying to radiate concern without fear. She must have failed; JJ's smirk was gentle but teasing as she leaned in close. The blonde was rapidly learning the flickers of Emily's hidden emotions. She caught the breath of anticipation that barely escaped the other woman's mouth.
"I don't regret a single moment of last night." So saying, she planted a lingering kiss on Emily, pouring into their embrace all the words she didn't have time to say.
Emily's sigh of relief was captured between them. JJ could feel the other woman's lips turn up in a smile at the tender reassurance. They both happily fell into a solitary moment in which nothing else existed but each other. All too soon the kiss ended with a shared sound of resignation. There was nothing Prentiss wanted more than to lie back down on the bed with JJ in her arms and figure out everything they needed to know and say. By the grazing touch of fingers tracing her cheek she could tell JJ yearned for that same respite. There was no such luxury in life with the BAU.
"And the other thing?" Emily asked, trying to maintain a casual composure but her delight was too plain to see.
"Your shirt is on inside out." JJ grinned, delighted as well.
The rush to the garage and SUV's continued as a race to the airport. Hotch assured them they'd all get fully briefed on the jet; primarily because Garcia would have to fill them in. All he had been able to understand from Penelope's excited technical ranting was that she had found Djinn. Or his next crime scene. Or what he wanted to be his next crime scene. The technical analyst could be difficult to understand at the best of times and 4:30 am was decidedly not 'the best of times.' Hotchner, however, trusted her skills implicitly and if she said they had to fly, they had to fly.
"Okay, Garcia. Go ahead." Hotch instructed once everyone was situated on the plane and gathered around the laptop. She had assured the team leader that her actual presence wasn't going to be necessary and besides, she was still untangling mountains of convoluted data and code.
"Here we go, ghost busters! I had several programs running all night to sift through Fortress' security holdings and logs – which were massive, just so you know! That Oh So Helpful deluge of data we got landed with? That was the digital equivalent of water boarding. – But I was scouring for anomalies and one of the protocols I refined was to find buildings where the security deactivated after the close of business."
"Garcia, when do you sleep?" Callahan wondered as they all could hear the caffeine mania gripping their hyper analyst.
"In blinks," Penelope didn't even miss a beat, "I was getting too many hits. Apparently Fortress secures a lot of buildings full of workaholics and at least one where the manager was regularly slipping in after hours for some private time with a 'professional friend.' Needless to say, I'm quite happy he had cut the cameras. BUT by refining the criteria further to include duration of deactivation time and windows that went past midnight I was able to narrow the field to only the buildings Djinn targeted or used for trial runs. All 20 popped up as well as another dozen he must've scoped out for future use. And that was when the program told me a property had just matched the criteria as of 12:01 am this morning."
"In Philadelphia." Hotch assumed, knowing that as where Garcia had insisted they had to be.
"Where Rochester and Courtenay just happen to be for the night? That's convenient." Rossi observed wryly.
"With your permission I got hold of the local force. They secured the building, confirmed the three bodies are inside and – bonus! – while they were there a bunch of trouble makers in hoodies showed up with malicious intent and a van of SEMTEX and diesel." Garcia's pleasure nearly made the screen glow.
"Have they identified the perpetrators?" Emily leaned forward. This wasn't just a break in the case; this might be the explosion that blew it wide open.
"Keystone United. Racist skinheads. The target building is a law office run by a Jewish family." Garcia scowled, no doubt thinking of damage she might wish to wreak on the supremacists.
"But Middleton has been in custody, how did Djinn pass the information?" Kate wondered.
"He must know The Broker is out of service. The information went directly from him to the Keystones." Penelope shook her head. She'd scoured all of Middleton's files and there was no communication of plans for a Philadelphia target.
"That's the first break in pattern. The UnSub is so compelled to resume killing he's willing to risk not covering his tracks as thoroughly." Morgan concluded. It was a frightening transition point: the moment killing became more important than self-preservation.
"More than that," Reid spoke up, "Djinn most likely knows that The Broker has been arrested and that creates gaping exposure in his cover which could inevitably lead to being investigated and found. Never mind that all of Fortress knows the FBI are involved. Despite all of this danger he goes ahead with the most sudden and impulsive cycle of kills yet."
"That breaks the patterns of long term planning and careful identity protection. Whatever pressure is causing these disruptions will lead the UnSub to make mistakes." Hotch stated the fact they all knew.
"What's going to happen when he realizes he's already made one?" JJ pondered aloud, gathering surprised looks, "When that law office doesn't blow up and erase the crime scene, he'll know something went wrong. What happens then?"
"Once the pattern is completely disrupted and exposed? Anything is possible," Rossi never shied away from worrisome prospects, "He might lash out violently or try to disappear. Either way, it'll cause complete destabilization."
The team went silent, considering the implications. They'd crossed the point of no return. From here they knew that catching Djinn was inevitable. The only questions that remained were the timing and the cost.
The Philadelphia PD were understandably grateful and proud at the same time. The tip from Garcia had helped them prevent an explosion that would've disrupted business for the most commercially active neighborhood in the city. The fact that they'd also managed to capture half a dozen hate group criminals was pure icing. Currently basking in such positive results and the attendant glory, the local officers were all too happy to allow the BAU full access.
The crime scene was abuzz with officers and techs carefully skirting points of evidence. Hotch interfaced with the local enforcement while the rest of his team split off to examine everything. It was the first truly pristine crime scene and Hotchner wanted it combed by every set of eyes he had.
The order and precision of the BAU team was always baffling to outsiders. All the disparate members could move about the scene disconnected from each other yet all synchronize and apparently decipher clues almost simultaneously. It was impressive and unnerving; it gave the local agents a feeling of being redundant. The scene, despite all the activity, was charged with the quiet intensity of an operating room.
Emily stood in the middle of the cubicle aisle, gazing at the corpses in either direction. The last one killed was obviously the richest. His shoes and the knees of his pants described a pained, confused journey bumbling back and forth between the cubicles. Where the woman's blood pooled he'd left a body print in the carpet. Poor motor control, possibly drugged or at least severely concussed.
The dawn light was only now starting to creep its way down the office halls. This department had no windows, no skylights. If she closed her eyes she could picture the blackness that would've enveloped the whole room. They knew the vomit mixed into the blood stain was his, which meant he'd gone into shock. He hadn't known the bodies were in the room. He either wasn't present or was unconscious during the kills then allowed to wake up inside a real life house of horrors.
"Djinn wants this guy to suffer on every possible level." Morgan voiced Emily's own thoughts, crouched over the victim. Prentiss nodded. The progression of the kills made the UnSub's emotional state obvious.
The woman (too refined and carefully maintained to be a street hooker, but definitely one of the more glamorous professionals) had been stabbed almost surgically in the heart. The sliced throat was merely a means of expediting her death by seconds. Quick, methodical, minimal pain with maximum efficiency. Also, she'd been left on the ground as a victim. The other corpse, the employee, he was staged.
At least, that was what the team figured out from looking at the fallen corpse and its trajectory from an overturned chair in the aisle. Djinn had left him on display. A warning to others? No. There was no one to be warned. What did Djinn want his final victim to see in the staging? Other than something creepy, obviously.
"Since the pattern is that all the male employee victims have a history of drug use, it could be that our UnSub feels they are complicit in the ultimate crime that he's avenging," Reid was circling the overturned chair, reconstructing the scene in his head, "Putting them on display in the open like this – 'look at me, look at what I've done' - The UnSub doesn't see them as victims like the girls. He sees someone that deserves to be punished."
"That would explain the different kill method." Kate had been studying the livid bruises on the employee's throat. Strangling was up close and personal. Stabbing was too but it allowed the killer to back away quickly, to not have to linger and watch the death. With hands around his throat (clearly hands, she could see where the tips of blunt nails had bit into his skin) the UnSub would've stayed staring into the victims face, breathing the same air, guaranteeing that the killer's hate would be their last living sight.
Then the personality changed before the last kill. The first two were precise, controlled. Violent but purposeful, efficient violence. The rich businessman was granted no such mercy. The bruises and crushed bones distorted his entire face to an unrecognizable mass. There were fractures and breaks all over the body, punctured organs and barely any teeth left in his mouth. The sheer intensity of the rage on display had left the entire team speechless for a few seconds when they saw it.
"Now this is the one he wants to suffer. It would take time to do all of this. A slow, brutal, deeply personal death." Rossi murmured.
"ME says it was the punctured lung that finally did him in and there was a lot of damage before that." JJ sighed, feeling the lingering emotional charge clinging to the office. So much terror and pain meeting the overwhelming rage. Perhaps it would be better for the building to get blown up after all. This room was never going to be the same.
"Safe to say our UnSub doesn't have good feelings for the man in charge." Kate concluded, nodding to Hotchner as he walked in and approached the solemn team assembled around the final victim.
"Is it externalized self-loathing?" Hotch studied the pulp of a man. Serial killers found perverse and creative ways to cope with their own self-hate. Some hunted and tortured the people they saw as themselves, others targeted the ones who'd made them feel worthless in the first place. Finding the hate meant finding the killer.
"Certainly could be. Look at the total destruction of the face, it's obliterated. It would make sense that this is someone who hates their image and wants it erased." Emily confirmed. Hotch's gaze swept over the team, waiting for someone to voice the obvious. They were all too well trained. They would wait for his lead.
"Could Arthur Rochester do this?" Hotchner finally asked. He never liked naming suspects before the profile was 100% complete but evidence had whittled the suspect pool down to three and they needed to know which one was about to go crazy.
"The rage part? Absolutely." Morgan nodded adamantly, him and Rossi exchanging a glance of agreement.
"He's been pushed his whole life by his father and competition with his sister to become someone he isn't. He's in a field he doesn't enjoy and a marriage he doesn't appreciate. He's trapped by expectations and a lifestyle he can't walk away from." Rossi confirmed.
Trapped. The word resonated. Trapped like the genies of the stories, bound in tiny prisons and dependent on others.
"He has the rage but not the control," Reid shook his head, frustrated as he tried to force the contradictions in the scene into a single picture, "He's just not capable of this level of organization or discipline."
"Lucky for him then that he has two other people in his life that are." JJ pointed out.
"Alex wouldn't help him do this. There's too much animosity." Morgan eliminated that option. The twins were too divided to come together for something so elaborate.
"She wouldn't help him out of loyalty but out of a need to protect. She'd be guarding what she values most." Rossi countered. He'd seen the resolve in her face; it was the guardian in her that had created Fortress and it would be the same trait that drove all her actions.
"There isn't any evidence she was even in town. My money's still on Courtenay. All the control and training any serial killer could want in a partner and on top of that, completely loyal to him." Kate hadn't forgotten the consuming fire in Nigel's eyes that was so firmly held in check.
"We could always just go arrest all three." Reid suggested, half-jokingly.
"Nigel and Alex really seem like the types who're going to crack in interrogation?" Morgan knew the simple solution wasn't an option. They all did. His phone ringing pulled them from the negative reverie. He smiled at the caller ID.
"You got something for me, baby girl?" he greeted over the speaker phone.
"Just a wicked case of jonesing for your mocha latte goodness." Garcia's quick and salacious come backs never failed to make the whole team smile.
"Well, we gotta work one case at a time, sugar. So help us wrap this one up first." Morgan grinned. Even Hotch had stopped objecting to their innuendo-laden banter. Some battles had to be surrendered to stay in the larger war. Besides, the familiar humor always made the team relax.
"Right. So good news first: the second victim is Bruce Jansen. He's got a record a mile long for drug possession and at least one charge of intent to sell that plead down. He works for a company Fortress audits every year and when he didn't report for work this morning his coworkers said he vanished from a bar last night. It's only a few blocks from you. I've sent the address."
"Rossi?" Hotch looked over to his right hand. They were odd numbered and if anyone could do the work of two, it was the most experienced member of the team.
"On it." Dave nodded, already pulling up the information.
"Next is your rich guy. Rich is putting it mildly. This man makes creosote look sterile. His fingerprints popped from an arrest in Texas a few years back; apparently the lone star state takes a dim view of drunk driving a hummer through a cattle ranch. Emmet Granger, rising oil baron. He was in town for a massive business dinner being hosted by an automotive company headquartered in Philly. The banquet hall is about a mile and a half in the opposite direction."
"Too far to drag an unconscious man without being noticed." Morgan studied the map that was coming up on his tablet, pins dropping in the relative locations.
"True, but look what's right there: a whiskey lounge. Think our Texan might've fancied an after dinner drink?" Kate pointed to the high end bar that split the distance.
"And back alleys connect from there to here." Reid agreed.
"Morgan and Kate, start at the banquet hall, see if you can retrace his steps. Look for any indication Granger ended up at the lounge." Hotch ordered.
"That just leaves the less than stellar news about your female victim," Garcia sighed her frustration, "Still no prints or ID but one of the local cops said he recognizes her from working the Palomar hotel. I cross-referenced the hotel phone and cab company records and found that a guest at the Palomar placed a call to Elegance –an escort company – just seven minutes before Elegance arranged for cab service to the Palomar. I think we can agree your girl was in the cab."
"JJ, Prentiss; go to the escort agency. Get a name for the girl and find out her schedule for the night. Reid and I are going to the Palomar. Good work, Garcia." Hotch ended the call.
"Great, they get the plush hotel and we get the sex workers." Emily rolled her eyes as she and JJ headed for the exit.
"Hotch won't take Reid to talk to prostitutes anymore, they keep hitting on him." JJ informed her with a smirk. Hookers made Reid feel insecure and Hotch feel old.
There are times in a case when the whole team holds their breath. Because fragile hope has begun to outstrip fear but to give it voice too soon could kill it.
The Hotel Palomar had offered precious little in the way of information. The bell hops all remembered seeing the blonde escort (who could forget?) but the desk attendants disavowed any knowledge of her providing services to guests. Hotch was arguing with the manager in that subtle, tactful, bullying way he had while Reid lingered on the periphery. In these circumstances he tended to tune out what his team member was doing and turn his senses outward to gather any and every crumb of clue. Across the way, for example, a concierge was speaking to a member of hotel security and his mouth had just formed a very familiar pattern of sound shapes.
Reid's speedily distracted departure interrupted Hotch's conversation. The team leader held up a finger, pausing the frustrating argument and following his agent's instincts.
"Excuse me, did you just say Rochester?" Spencer flashed his badge at the concierge and guard. Both looked perplexed but neither could ignore the credentials.
"Yes, I was just saying that we'll have the things the Rochesters left in the hotel safe couriered back to them." The concierge supplied as he looked between the scary, stern looking man and the oddly energetic but overgrown boy.
"They were both here? The two of them?" Hotch clarified.
"As well as Mr. Courtenay. They always stay here at the Palomar when they're in town. We take excellent care of them." The small man beamed proudly.
"And they've already left?" Reid looked at his watch. Past 9 am now. Djinn had to know the explosion didn't go off as planned.
"I gather business called them away rather suddenly." The concierge nodded before making a solicitous departure to go scold a bellboy.
"So Alex was in town with her brother last night. All three of them right here." Reid and Hotch turned and took in the hotel lobby in all its busy, generous grandeur. A woman like the escort would still stand out. And if she was a regular at the hotel, the Fortress people would've almost certainly recognized her.
"And by now all three are likely on their way back to New York. Or further." Hotch nodded and lead their exit.
At these times everyone feels they've caught hold of a thread. A thread so delicate it could break at any moment if they pull too hard yet one that with consistent pressure would undoubtedly come free.
"Three coworkers that were also Jansen's drinking buddies all confirmed the same story. He disappeared from their regular hangout sometime after ten. One says he called to check on Bruce after noticing he'd left and the guy said he was meeting with a Fortress rep to get his record cleared." Rossi's voice over the speakerphone shared what little insight he'd gathered with the others on conference.
"Some of the waiters from last night's dinner remember half a dozen of the more sauced playboys deciding to stumble down the street to the whiskey lounge Kate pointed out. We're just about to go in now and see if Granger was one of them." Morgan added his report.
"The female victim was Celeste Harrow. She's one of 4 escorts Alex hired for her brother from Elegance. One left the area but we're going to interview the remaining two and then come back in." JJ also supplied their status update.
"Alright, everyone be thorough but quick. It's looking like our suspects have spooked and could be on the move. We need to figure out which one to follow and fast." Hotch's orders came back to them all.
"You heard the man. No time for dragging ass." Morgan opened up the door to the whiskey lounge.
"Even if it's our UnSub's?" Kate shot back as they walked in.
"Fair enough. I sure wouldn't mind chaining him up to a trailer hitch for a few miles. Excuse me, my man." Morgan greeted the man behind the bar.
"We don't serve alcohol until noon. I'm just here getting the place cleaned up." The bartender replied, no doubt regretting having left the front door unlocked.
"Not what we're here about," Morgan pulled out his badge, instantly changing the man's entire demeanor, "We're tracing this guy. You see him last night?"
The bartender looked at the blown up driver's license photo.
"Know him? He was hung over my bar here for at least an hour."
"You're sure it was him?" Kate checked. She knew bartenders were infamous for their memories but this seemed like the kind of place where it would be hard to focus on anyone for long.
"You don't forget an accent like that. Texas, huh? Makes sense." He handed the photo back.
"Was he alone?" Morgan pressed. Inch by inch.
"Guys like him never are. He arrived with a bunch of other rich blowhards but ditched them pretty quick when he got the high sign from a hotty here at the bar."
"He hit on her?" Morgan's brain began shifting gears.
"That might be what he thought he was doing. Mostly he was making an ass of himself but she didn't seem to mind. Funny, I wouldn't have thought she'd go for it." The bartender shook his head wondering.
"Why's that?" Kate jumped in.
"She didn't look like she needed to. She was here drinking scotch that starts at $1,500 a bottle. She knew her stuff, had good taste and definitely was out of his league looks wise. I used to be able to pick out the pros from a mile and I could've sworn she was legit. But watching her play him? He was hooked before he even sat down."
"What else do you remember about her?" Kate held her breath.
"She was tall. Kind of pale like she didn't get outdoors much. Long, dark hair. Great cheek bones. Honestly, if she'd just stepped out of that business wear and into something a bit more slinky she'd have been bunny material, I guarantee." He sighed, no doubt wishing he could redress his memory.
Morgan called up his first and only sighting of Alexandra Rochester. His professional training always overruled any other impulse but for a split second he'd allowed himself to acknowledge that at one time he definitely would've made a move on her. If she weren't part of a case. And a potential killer. And if he weren't completely in love with Savannah. Obviously.
"That was Alex. She was here." Morgan pulled out his phone as he walked away.
"As predator or as bait?" Kate wondered as she quickly followed.
"Both?" Morgan hazarded, dialing Hotch.
Then, all at once, the end of the thread comes free and unravels the woven mystery from top to bottom.
JJ sat beside Emily in Elegance's waiting lounge. It was a relief to have a few quiet minutes. Only in stillness could they properly ponder the day's events thus far. Even though their minds were both obsessively going over all the facts neither failed to notice when Emily's hand covered JJ's on the sofa cushion. The blonde smiled to her partner, knowing the touch carried no innuendo or emotion beyond the simple comfort of still being beside each other. How much longer could they have such casual indulgences?
"You met the Rochester woman," Emily turned to JJ, "Do you think she's involved in all this?"
"Is she capable of it? Yeah, I'd say so," JJ called up the memory of the tall brunette so desperately worried about taking care of her sister-in-law when her brother wouldn't, "But she came across with overdeveloped senses of justice and discipline. It would take something powerful to make her break with those values. I don't think covering for her brother or protecting the company's future would be strong enough motivation."
"People can kill for the most meaningless reasons." Emily reminded JJ of some of the senseless wastes of human life they'd seen. Love, hate, revenge, heartbreak; those were the big, meaningful excuses people used. More often the real causes were petty: jealousy, arrogance, boredom, even fun.
"If they're killers by nature, sure," JJ agreed, "That wasn't my read on her. I could be wrong."
"I've never doubted your judgment yet." Emily assured, knowing JJ sometimes struggled with feeling inadequate as the most recently trained profiler. She'd been with the BAU longer than anyone besides Hotch and Rossi but she still couldn't stop thinking of herself as new at the job. JJ smiled thanks and squeezed the hand holding hers, releasing when they heard the clatter of high heels moving towards them at speed.
"Is Celeste really dead? Someone killed her?!" the distraught voice arrived before its owner, high pitches echoing off every wall in the room. The two agents stood and turned in greeting to the escorts approaching from behind them. Both blonde and in their mid to late twenties.
"Her death is being investigated," JJ easily smoothed over the question, "It would really help if you could answer a few questions. Are you up to it?"
"What do you need to know?" the other escort was more contained, eyeing the FBI agents with caution. One of them, anyway. She gave Emily a more thorough once over, not bothering to hide that she was cataloging the brunette from head to toe. JJ felt a familiar amusement at the obvious snoofing but beneath that was a tiny tremolo of irritation. Emily was gorgeous, of course; that didn't mean the escort had to be so blatant about it.
"You've both dealt with the Rochesters in the past. Did you notice anything out of the ordinary with either of them?" JJ rather sharply brought both the girls' attention to herself.
"Oh god. I can't believe- ! Sorry! Okay, uhm," the more hysterical blonde (Cheri, from the agency director's description) fought to bring her emotions under control, "Arthur was kind of stuck on himself. He liked to brag and show off a lot. He got off on compliments and ego stroking. Just your ordinary super-rich middle-aged guy."
"He was kind of fit. Like he must've been really cut years ago but he'd let himself go a bit. Probably all the partying." The other girl (whom JJ had taken a mild dislike towards) had to be Roxy.
"Right, the pills. He was stoned. Alex said he probably would be but that I didn't have to take anything if I didn't want to. She was really nice." Cheri recalled, still wiping away nonexistent makeup trails around her eyes.
"She was," Roxy agreed, "She was pretty scary when we first met and she was asking all those questions but when I figured out it was because she wanted to keep her brother safe? I thought it was really sweet. She was considerate. Always paid in advance plus extra for tip. She made sure a car service was waiting the whole time so I wouldn't have to call a cab. Honestly, I hoped if I did well with Arthur she might hire me for herself next."
"No kidding!" Cheri squealed, "I even gave her my private number and offered to go half price. She never called. I guess I should've gone lower."
JJ's eyebrows shot up, mirroring Emily's own barely contained expression of surprise. The ground hadn't exactly moved, yet both knew that the world had taken a sharp turn.
"What made you think she might employ your services?" Prentiss eased around the question, feeling its edge for the truth they'd missed. Roxy and Cheri exchanged glances before looking back incredulously at the agents.
"Uhm, because she definitely rides the rainbow. I mean, she hides it pretty well. Better than most. But there are little things we're trained to notice. I thought maybe she was in the closet." Cheri's smile was shy but pleased with the revelation of secrets.
"Not that it mattered," Roxy cut in, "Gay, straight or anywhere in between, that woman was completely off limits."
"Because you'd been hired for her brother?" JJ hazarded. They had hold of the edges of the piece, now to see how it fit in the gap.
"Please, I've done kinkier jobs than that. No, that woman was head over heels for someone else. She was totally loyal. The way she looked at me? It was like I barely even registered. She just looked right through me." Roxy elaborated, shifting her position to show off her figure; illustrating that she wasn't used to being ignored.
"Yeah," Cheri chimed in, "Kind of like the two of you." The comment ended in a yelp as Roxy's elbow hit her ribs.
JJ was on her feet without warning. Her mind had already raced ahead of her body.
"Thank you for that information. You've helped tremendously." If the blonde's abrupt closing surprised Emily she didn't show it, following her partner's lead without question.
"Agent," Roxy quickly caught Prentiss' elbow as she turned away, "We would love to be of service the next time you're in town."
That comment brought JJ's mind back to the moment and she turned on her heel.
"She's off limits too." The blonde agent stated as she took hold of Emily's arm and pulled her from the building.
In the SUV Emily looked to JJ for an explanation of the sudden departure. The behavior with the escorts would be an entirely different subject for a later date. Preferably at a time when Emily could thoroughly explore JJ's definition of 'off limits.'
Before Emily could voice any questions the blonde held up a silencing finger, hitting the speed dial on her phone.
"Traveling circus of wonderful wisdom, at your disposal!" Garcia's voice answered the call.
"Penelope, when did Kara get engaged to Arthur Rochester?" Jareau demanded.
"Looks like . . .," they could hear long nails tacking rapidly across her keyboard, "The summer after their college sophomore year. Yikes! Talk about whirlwind romance. They were married a month after it was announced."
"When did Alex Rochester drop out and enlist?" JJ thought of the mysterious 2 year time difference in the twins' military careers. They'd paralleled perfectly on so many other things, only the military and university had been different. Something crucial had changed.
"She finished the sophomore year in the top 10% but never returned from the summer. Instead she enlisted –oh no. J, she signed her enlistment the day after the engagement was announced."
"She couldn't watch them get married." Emily murmured, knowing a little too well the pain that would've driven Alex to seek such an escape.
"She was in love with her." JJ finally gave voice to the elusive but obvious fact.
She had heard the faraway hurt in Emily's voice, the recollection of forgotten wounds. The blonde bit her lip, wishing the facts of the case didn't echo so closely with her own memories. She'd never allowed herself to think that there was a connection between her marrying Will and Emily's decision to leave. Now it was so obvious she wanted to travel back in time just to slap herself in the head.
Emily saw the frustrated regret furrowing the other woman's brow. She gently gripped her hand on the console between them.
"It's ok, Jennifer." She promised, soothing away the apology in JJ's injured eyes. Then the blue suddenly brightened and JJ grabbed hold of the hand clutching hers, leaning urgently across the console.
"Je t'ai aimé jusqu'a atteindre la folie." JJ stated, staring hard at her and for a moment Emily's breath caught in her throat. She had never heard Jennifer speak French. She'd never dreamed of hearing such words from her.
"What?" she blinked, grappling with the urge to lean closer and reward such a beautiful confession with a kiss. Emily had forced herself to keep such expressions silent the previous night. She didn't want to pressure JJ into feeling like she had to reciprocate. She could wax poetic adoration in four different languages and manage 'I love you' in at least 5 more. She'd kept the words to herself, however and now they strained at the tip of her tongue.
"I heard it in a dream and thought I'd made it up but I didn't. Je t'ai aimé jusqu'a atteindre la folie," JJ clarified, "I think I heard Alex Rochester say it."
"To Kara?" Emily's head spun as she brought her mind back into proper gear. The sting of disappointment was shoved aside before any of the pain or numbness could follow. This wasn't the time.
"Translate it first." JJ shook her head. She needed to know the words, to know they meant something more than just a jumble of desires spat out by her subconscious in the throes of a sex dream. She watched Emily repeat the phrase to herself; mouthing the sounds and for a second she could hear the words being breathed in her ear again, feel the swell of emotion that threatened to crack her ribs at the tender declaration she couldn't understand but still somehow knew.
"It's a corruption of Francois Sagan's quote. It's supposed to be 'I have loved to the point of madness.' She's changed it. She said 'I have loved you to the point of madness.'" Emily watched comprehension dawning across JJ's face.
"She said it to Kara Rochester, Em; and Kara said she loved her back." The blonde turned on the SUV and peeled out onto the road.
"The marriage didn't end their relationship. They've been together this whole time." Prentiss' mind circled the statement, latching on from all sides. Understanding quickly rushed in and began coloring all the other facts and files.
"This hasn't been about Arthur or Fortress. It's been Kara at the heart of everything all along and Alex is our Djinn." JJ shook her head. It was so obvious now.
"Trapped in a situation she can't change but won't escape. 'Folie' means madness; it encompasses both lunacy and rage." Emily wondered if the female Rochester had chosen her French quote because of the specific duality of its meaning or just because the romantic in her could use no other.
"And she's about to unleash all of it completely because she can't go back anymore."
Reviews and feedback enthusiastically encouraged, requested and enjoyed.