Thanks for the lovely reviews! Please be sure to R&R Ch 27!
See disclaimers in Ch. 1.
Hotch didn't think he'd run so fast in all his life, and he'd spent a lot of time chasing after a suspect or two in the past.
The second he'd returned to his room to change for the day, Han Wei called out to both he and Rossi, who had been in the bath at the time.
"Please, sirs, there is trouble—outside, near the tree grove…"
"What kind of trouble?" Hotch had asked.
Han Wei looked uncomfortable. "Please, come quickly…"
The look on the little man's face said that whatever it was, it wasn't good. He hurriedly threw on his clothes and shouted to Rossi in the bath. "Dave!"
"What?"
"Something's wrong…"
The sounds of splashing water assailed Hotch's ears. The next second the older man was standing in the china blue door frame. "What?"
"Something outside…that man, Han Wei, I didn't like the look on his face…"
"What kind of 'not like?'"
Both men stared at each other. Hotch's normally unreadable face cracked just a little, and the other man knew why.
"You don't think…"
Hotch threw on his shoes and raced for the door, leaving Rossi in his bathrobe, racing behind. They were met by Reid and Morgan, who both looked extremely concerned.
"What's going on? Hotch, Rossi?" Morgan asked.
"We're about to find out," Rossi said, not caring that the younger men were staring at his choice of dress.
About a quarter of a mile from the house lie the 'tree grove' that Han Wei spoke of—it was full of old willows and maples and the occasional birch tree. The normally silent paths were now abuzz with activity, with Han Wei conducting what looked like interviews in the house language and Chase Davis staring something on the ground next to a pair of old willows.
"What's going on?"
"There was a discrepancy in the count today," Chase said. Her face was cold and unreadable.
"The gardeners?" Morgan asked.
"Yes. The gate watches have taken to counting each gardener that comes and goes onto the grounds. Last night three gardeners stayed late, but didn't check in this morning."
"Maybe they stayed overnight?"
"You know of any late-night gardening professionals, Reid?" the investigator asked sharply. It was obvious there was something else she wasn't sharing.
"Chase, you wouldn't be out here if it was just that," Rossi reasoned. "You're staring at that piece of ground as if a man took his last step on it. You're short with us, you're formal…something's not right here."
"See this?" she said, pointing at what looked to the agents like a long drag mark. "What do you think that is?"
"Looks to me like something got dragged," Morgan said, now slipping into his usual routine of 'role playing' a scene. "Okay, so something got moved, and in a hurry—those marks are pretty wide, and deep, like someone was trying to move something heavy."
"Okay. Now look over here," Chase said. A few feet away from the drag mark was a set of tire prints.
"Three-inch radials," Reid said without thinking. "There's not a lot of companies that make that particular pattern…"
Chase called out to one of the servants, who was acting as a photographer. She said something in the house language, and the man began snapping no less than a dozen shots of the tire tracks in at least eight different angles. The young woman then went into the tree grove, beckoning the men to follow her.
"Stay off the path," she instructed, pointing out several footprints in the chipped cedar that groomed the walking paths in this small area. "We need a look at those prints, especially the smaller ones."
Morgan looked at the larger ones, especially one that had a deep ball impression. "This one was carrying something," he said.
"Very good."
"The question is, what?" Hotch said. "And where were they going?"
"My guess?" Chase said. "They were running up to the house."
"And these other ones that were following…they must have been keeping a decent pace." Rossi mused. "Almost as if…"
"Someone were chasing them?" Morgan asked incredulously. "Wait a minute…that drag mark—that could have been a person…"
"Keep going…"
"There's three missing gardeners, right?" Reid asked. "Has anyone looked in on them? Perhaps someone tried to use them to get on the grounds?"
"That's one theory," Chase admitted.
"What's the other?" Hotch asked.
Chase kept silent. Her face angled towards the ground and she began trying to visualize what had taken place.
"Drag marks, footprints, missing people…" Hotch said, trying to connect the dots. "Someone got chased out here, then put in something, likely a large truck or a van by the size of the tire tracks."
"Not just someone," Morgan said. "Two someones. There's two sets of prints here…"
"But there's three missing gardeners," Reid pointed out. "What happened to the other one?"
Chase's face was still slack, looking as professional as the group had ever seen her.
"There's something else," Morgan sussed out. "What aren't you telling us?"
Chase heaved a huge sigh. "Oliver and Will didn't make it back to bed last night. When Han Wei tried to call them for breakfast, the beds were untouched and the bathroom was clean and dry."
"They never went to bed," Rossi said.
"Exactly."
"Means they were somewhere else."
"Mmm-hmm." Chase's face was still a mask.
Just then Emily raced out, breathless. "JJ can't find the baby," she panted. "We've searched the entire house, top to bottom, and she's just nowhere to be found…"
"What?" Now Hotch was really concerned.
"Maybe Will has her," reasoned Reid, ever the logician.
"But we can't find him either," countered Morgan. Then the agent looked at the scene again. Then he looked at Chase. Then he looked at the marks in the dirt…
"Oh, shit," Morgan swore. The short phrase made everyone take notice.
Just then Chase's phone went off. "Chase Davis," she said, ever the professional.
"My, my," a voice said. It was not one Chase had heard before. She quickly put the device on speaker and motioned everyone to fall silent.
"Do I know you?" the investigator asked.
"Not yet, but you will," said the voice. "We have some business to discuss."
"I'm not taking work right now," Chase said. "I can refer you out…"
"Oh, but you see, I've already retained you," the voice corrected. "Our business is much older than that."
"Okay, here's how it works—I tell you whether I'm available, and you decide to either come back or take the referral. Those are your options."
"Very well. Let me pose this question to you, then, Miss Davis—how long do you think the average person can survive in isolation, subsisting on the mercy of others?"
"Quite well, if done right," the investigator said, her boldness cranking into full gear.
"Yes, you certainly have. However, Messrs. Lawrence and LaMontaigne now have slightly less, ah, 'desirable' accommodations than those you've managed to provide. And unless you and yours reach a decision, they will continue to get worse."
"Where are they?" Chase said, her tone of voice calm and terrifyingly even. The tone even scared Hotch, and he didn't scare all that easily.
"Alive, and fairly comfortable—for now. How long that lasts, well…"
"The decision," Chase snapped.
"Temper, temper," the voice replied. "Take a couple of days, calm down, look at things more rationally. We'll speak again. But do try to hurry—that little one, I'm not sure how they'll manage with her…"
The line fell dead after that.
Six faces fell completely slack. The first to show emotion was Morgan, and his recourse was to pound his fist into the side of a tree. "Son of a bitch!" he cried, realizing what had just happened.
"There's no way to trace the call," Chase said angrily. "We've got ours on scramblers—a way to prevent the likes of Adlington from following the people working on the outside…" She too let out a stream of curses, and her hands flew faster than they'd ever seen her sign.
"That's why they called your phone, and not the house," Rossi said. He was now reaching that point where he flew off the handle sometimes, and was seriously trying to keep his temper in check.
"It's not only that," Reid realized. "He said that he and Chase had 'business'…what if we're looking at this the wrong way? All of it?"
"What?"
"We need to look through your old cases, Chase. All of them. That's where our missing link is—it's through you…"
"Or someone thinks it is," Chase said shortly. "Fucking hell!" she shouted. "And all we can do is wait!"
