First of all I want to thank everyone who nominated and voted for my stories for Profiler Choice Awards. Unfortunately I failed to take any of the five categories I was in, but that is okay. That is the way life goes...lol. I'm just so touched and proud that you readers considered any of my stories worthy of nomination. That is what is the most important thing to me. Now enough of my sappiness. Lets get to the next chapter. Buckle your seat belts because there is a lot going on in this one. Enjoy.

To avoid arousing any suspicion Suit parked a couple of blocks away and casually made his way to Hill's house. He made sure that he didn't walk too slow or too fast, wanting to give off the appearance of a man out for an afternoon stroll. When he reached Hill's driveway he stopped, bent down and pretended to tie his shoelace, using it as a cover to look around. Satisfied that he was alone, he straightened up and quickly made his way up the drive to the back door. Suit pulled out his lock picks and easily let himself into the house.

Suit stood in the kitchen and looked around as he pocketed his tools. "Now where would I stash a bunch of photos I didn't want anyone to see, but have easy access to?" he mused aloud.

He headed to the front of the house. "The bedroom," he decided. "That way he could lie in bed looking at them while getting his little man up."

Pleased at his deduction, Suit bounded up the stairs two steps at a time. It didn't take long to find Hill's bedroom. He stood in the doorway scanning the room, looking for the best hiding place. A floorboard slightly higher than its neighbors caught his attention. Smiling he knelt down next to it and used his pocketknife to pry it up. His smile grew wider when he saw the fat envelope hidden there and reached for it.

Across the street in Mrs. Farmer's living room Dave, Derek and the head of SWAT were huddled around several laptops peering intently at the screens. Outside the rest of the SWAT team were concealed around Hill's house waiting to storm the place. Mrs. Farmer had refused to leave her home and kept the three men supplied with plenty of coffee and cake. As she bustled back and forth between the kitchen and the living room she had to struggle to keep the excitement off her face. She hadn't had this much fun in years. For the men it was also a unique experience, normally their stakeouts didn't smell of freshly baked cakes and cookies.

As the hours slowly crept by Derek and Dave's anxiety levels increased as it looked like their UnSub hadn't taken the bait and wasn't going to show. This was their best opportunity to catch him. If they couldn't, Emily's fate if Hotch couldn't get the charges dismissed at the prelim in a week's time would be in the hands of twelve jurors.

"How much longer are we going to sit around here?" the SWAT leader asked. "It's past one and my guys are getting antsy."

"Relax. We have until six. He'll show," Dave said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. With each passing minute he felt his hopes fading.

The second Dave stopped speaking a man magically appeared on one of the monitors. Derek tapped the older man on his shoulder to get his attention and pointed. "Look. There he is." At least he hoped it was the right man.

The three men watched with held breaths as the man knelt to tie his shoe and furtively looked around as he did so.

"He's casing the joint," Derek observed.

"Most definitely," Dave agreed.

On the screen the man straightened, hurried up the drive and disappeared around the back of the house. He reappeared on another screen standing thoughtfully in the kitchen. Before setting up in Mrs. Farmer's house, SWAT had planted hidden cameras throughout the house. Then he headed upstairs and made a beeline to Hill's bedroom. They watched as he pried up the floorboard and reached for the envelope.

"Go! Go! Go!" the SWAT leader shouted into his mic as he took off for the house with Dave and Derek hot on his heels.

Emily couldn't let go of the idea that Hotch had a plan to catch the UnSub. She kept alternating between being angry with him for not including her in the planning and hurt that he hadn't told her. She had to learn about it second hand. It was like he didn't trust her anymore. He should have told her. It was her life, her freedom, and her future he was playing with. It was the Doyle fiasco all over again. Hotch had faked her death and had sent her away without consulting her.

No longer hungry, Emily abandoned her untouched lunch and began to pace the small confines of her cell. The movement helped to temper her anger and calm some of her more tumultuous thoughts. She really had no right to be angry at Hotch. He was doing his best to get her out of this mess. He had her best interests at heart now and back then. She sighed. Emily had no idea how she was going to repay him for everything he had done or if she ever could. She had a feeling that she was going to be indebted to him for the rest of her life.

With her anger now gone all Emily had left was worry. It was now obvious that Hotch hadn't told her because he hadn't wanted to cause her any more undue anxiety. That she already had enough on her plate to deal with that he hadn't wanted to add to it. Well, he had totally missed the mark; it was all she had. What exactly was Hotch's plan? How dangerous was it? Would her friends be in harms way? What would she do if one of them was hurt or killed because of her? What will happen to her if the plan fails? Emily had plenty of questions and not one damn answer.

"POLICE!"

Suit froze with the envelope in one hand and the photos of Emily he had just pulled out of his pocket in the other. He stared in shock at the large number of cops with weapons aimed now sharing the room with him.

"Drop what you are holding and put your hands on your head!"

He let the photos slip from his fingers and flutter down to the floor. The envelope made a loud plopping sound when it hit. Suit slowly raised his hands. How the hell did they know I was here, he thought angrily. I didn't leave a trail. Then he spotted Dave and Derek standing behind the cops glaring at him and he knew what had happened. It was a trap and he had blindly walked into it. He had been to over confident that he wouldn't get caught. Oh well, he thought with a shrug. It had been a good run.

Suit locked eyes with the two agents and smiled. "Tell Agent Hotchner well played."

He dropped his hand to his waistband and the room filled with the sound of gunfire.

Hotch stood at the window with his arms crossed gazing up at the afternoon sky. The long wait was getting to him. He wanted to be in on the arrest and not on the sidelines. The UnSub had messed with one of his agents so he deserved to be the one to slap the cuffs on him, but he couldn't for legal reasons. He had to remain here since he was acting as Emily's lawyer, not her boss. The longer this dragged on, the less likely they were going to catch him.

The rest of the team had gathered in his hotel room, all in various stages of anxiety. Penelope couldn't sit still. She alternated between fidgeting in her chair and pacing around the room. Reid rambled incessantly to JJ about anything that popped into his head. The blonde profiler nodded every now and then, but she wasn't really listening to him. Her mind was elsewhere while she twisted the ring on her right hand. The only person who seemed calm and collected was the Ambassador as she sat in the lone armchair. But on the inside she was a mess. Her stomach was tied in knots with worry and her mind was in turmoil over the thoughts of Childress and his hired hand getting away with it. She wasn't prepared to lose her daughter.

The ringing of a phone shattered the heavy silence that encompassed the room. Everyone jumped at the suddenness of it and four pairs of eyes locked onto Hotch as he fished out the phone and answered it.

"Yes, Dave?" he said sternly.

They watched a frown form as he listened to what the older agent had to say. "I understand."

"Well?" Penelope demanded impatiently when he hung up.

Hotch turned them. "The UnSub is dead," he said grimly.

All around him eyes widened in shock and disbelief. They had expected to hear that he had been arrested not killed. "What…how?" JJ stammered.

"Suicide by cop." He too had hoped the man would be taken alive.

Elizabeth frowned in confusion. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means, Ma'am," Reid spoke up. "That the UnSub had no intention of going to prison so he provoked the police into killing him."

A knot of fear grew in Elizabeth's stomach. If the man who had done the actual killing and the framing was dead, what did it mean for Emily? Would she still be blamed for the murder? Her only child could still end up going away for life and that would destroy both of them. It had taken all of her will power to hide her anxiety when she had stepped into the visitation room and saw Emily shackled and wearing those horrid jail scrubs. She didn't know if she would have the courage to visit her every week in prison and be unable to touch her because of the thick pane of glass separating them.

She took a deep breath to corral her wild thoughts and put on her Ambassador mask. "How much does this hurt Emily's case? Don't you need his confession?"

Hotch could see how upset she was by the news though Elizabeth was doing her best to hide it. "It would have been nice, but not necessary. He was caught planting the photos of Emily at the crime scene. Once we get an official identification, I strongly believe we'll be able to connect him back to Richard Childress. Rossi and Morgan are waiting for permission from the Police Chief to begin their search."

He looked intently at her. "This is a good thing, Elizabeth."

"I know," she said with a nod.

While the team began discussing the possibilities of what Dave and Derek might uncover and how to trace it back to Childress, Elizabeth turned her gaze to the window. Could this nightmare be finally coming to end, she wondered. She sure hoped so, but she wouldn't believe it until she had her arms wrapped around her daughter.

The odor of gunpowder hung heavily in the air as Derek and Dave stared down at the dead body of the UnSub. The gun he had drawn on the police laid a foot away from his outstretched hand. The two agents had kept their weapons holstered as SWAT filled him full of bullets. The UnSub had been dead before he hit the floor. Now they were waiting for the Police Chief and the crime scene techs to arrive before beginning a closer examination of the body. They didn't say anything to each other, each preferring the silence to mull over the ramifications of his death on Emily's case.

"Is it your man?" the Chief asked, stepping into the room and gazing at the body sprawled on the floor. He had had doubts about Agent Hotchner's plan when he first broached it, but was now glad that it did.

Derek crossed his arms. "Definitely. We knew from the video surveillance that he had brown hair and wore a gray suit with cowboy boots. We also caught him in the process of planting pictures of Prentiss." He pointed to the scattered photos.

"Are you sure that he didn't pay someone to do his dirty work?"

Dave shook his head. "Not this time. He would want to make sure it was done correctly. The photos would have shore up her motive for killing Hill. It's him."

The three men watched the techs work. One snapped photos of the UnSub's body from every angle while the other rolled his prints and checked his pockets. He pulled out a cell phone and a wallet.

"May I?" Dave asked, looking to the Police Chief.

The man nodded his okay and after donning gloves the older agent took the items from the tech. He tossed the wallet to Derek and flipped open the phone. Slowly he scrolled through the menus until he found the one he wanted. Meanwhile Derek opened the wallet and pulled out the driver's license.

"Jim Davis," he read the name aloud.

The Chief glanced at him. "Do you think that's his real name?"

"I doubt it," he said, shoving the ID back into the wallet. "He probably used an alias when he was on a job. But we'll get his true identity once his prints are run through AFIS. I'm sure he's been arrested in the past."

"We'll get right on it." He jerked his head at one of the techs that immediately hopped to his feet and rushed off the prints to the lab. Derek nodded and returned to digging through the wallet.

Dave held up the phone with a triumphant smile. "This is it. The number matches the one Childress has been calling."

"There's your connection," the Chief observed.

Before Dave could answer, Derek let out a growl of annoyance. Both men turned to him in curiosity. "What is it?"

He showed them a hotel room key. "The son of a bitch is staying at the same hotel we are," he spat out angrily. "He has the room that was directly across from Prentiss'. From there he could easily watch her comings and goings."

"Definitely wouldn't attract attention that way." Dave reached out a gloved hand and plucked the room key out of Derek's. "Shall we go see what hidden treasures we might uncover?"

Waiting for an update from Dave was almost as nerve wracking as it had been when they were waiting for the result of the trap. Everyone wanted to know the identity of the UnSub and if they had found enough evidence to clear Emily of all charges. The sudden sound of knocking had everyone turning his or her eyes to the door. Hotch went to answer the door and was surprised to find Dave standing on the other side. They all had expected him to call, not to come a knocking.

"Hotch, the Chief of Police wants you down at the station ASAP," Dave announced before the Unit Chief had a chance to greet him. "We found something very interesting in the UnSub's hotel room that he wants you to see."

"I'm on my way," Hotch said immediately, moving back into the room to snatch up his suit jacket and car keys before hurrying off.

While the Ambassador looked on, the rest of the team crowded around the older agent demanding to know what he and Derek had found.

Dave looked at each and every one of them before answering. "The smoking gun," he said cryptically.

Emily sat on the bunk cradling her head in her hands. She was miserable. Time was inching by at a crawl, ratcheting up her anxiety level with each passing minute. She felt like she was lost in limbo and nothing she did could alleviate it. Pacing her cell incessantly didn't help nor did the hour spent outside in the sunshine and fresh air. At some point exhaustion overtook her and she sank down on the bunk, staring morosely at the floor between her feet. How long she remained in that position she had no idea.

A loud clank caught her attention. Slowly Emily raised her head to see the door of the cell rolling open. On the other side stood Hotch. He didn't wait for it to fully open, stepping into her cell as soon as the gap was big enough for him to fit through. She failed to notice that the door didn't close behind him since she was focused on the man standing in front of her.

"It's over," he said with a smile.

"What?" Emily asked, staring up at him in confusion.

"It's over," Hotch repeated. "We caught the UnSub."

She continued to stare at him with a stunned look on her face. Could it be true, the optimistic side of her mind marveled. Then the pessimistic side butted in pointing out how well her luck had been running this past week.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Please tell me this isn't some sick joke you're telling me before you hit me with the bad news."

"It's no joke. It's for real."

It took a moment to sink in. "He…he confessed to everything?" she stammered in disbelief.

"No. He committed suicide by cop. But we caught him red handed trying to plant photos of you at the crime scene."

"Why would he be doing that?"

Hotch proceeded to fill her in on the plan he had hatched to lure the UnSub into a trap. How Dave and Derek had gone along to observe only and how hard it had been for them to resist plugging him full of holes when he had pulled his weapon. The SWAT team had been solely responsible for his death. The FBI hadn't fired a single round. The Police Chief had even verified that their guns hadn't been fired.

Emily nodded when he was done, glad nothing bad had happened to Derek and Dave. She wet her lips. "What about Childress? Can we connect this—" she groped for a name.

"Dominic Caproni," Hotch supplied.

"This Dominic Caproni to him?" she finished.

"Absolutely. Caproni had in his possession the disposable cell phone that we have on record that Childress had called multiple times. Also it seems he liked to keep an insurance policy in case his current employer decided not to pay. He recorded all the phone conversations he had with Childress. A digital voice recorder was found in his hotel room."

"Really?" she asked, eyebrows rising to her hairline.

"Really. The New York office is on its way to arrest him."

Emily's gaze drifted to the still open cell door. "And the charges against me?"

"Are all being dropped as we speak. You still have to be processed out, but you should be free to go in a couple of hours."

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out before turning back to him. "Hotch, is it really over?"

He could see the desperate hope in her dark brown eyes. "Yes, Emily, it's really over. You're free," he said with another smile.

"Okay," she said with a distracted nod, her eyes shifting off him and on to the wall.

Hotch took a step back toward the cell door. It was obvious she was in shock and needed some time to process the good news. It was funny how you can hope and pray for something to happen and when it does, you're at a loss at what to do.

"I'll be out back waiting in the car," he said. Emily didn't answer; she just continued to stare blindly at the wall. "I'll see you soon," he said quietly and slipped away.

Emily didn't hear Hotch leave. She was too busy listening to the words it's over tumbling through her head. At first she couldn't believe it was true, waiting for fate to yank the rug from beneath her. But slowly the reality of it all began to sink in. James Hill's real killer had been found. Dominic Caproni was dead by suicide. Richard Childress was about to be arrested and the charges against her were being dismissed.

She released a shaky breath as she ran a hand through her hair. "I can't believe this fucking nightmare is finally over," she said to the empty air.

Her eyes went to the open cell door. She was free and could walk out of here any time she wanted. Emily rose to her feet intending to do exactly that. Screw the processing out, she thought. She was leaving now. She took one step and her legs turned to jelly. Her knees gave out and she collapsed back on to the bunk. All of the sudden all the unwanted emotions she had struggled so hard over the past week to keep boxed up finally broke free and overwhelmed her. She started to cry and couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Wrapping her arms around her shaking body, Emily cried long and hard.

Woohoo! Emily has been vindicated. Check in next week for how it all shakes out. There are still a couple of chapters left. Until then.