Chapter 37

Hemminger slid behind the wheel of his green Datsun and started the engine. A glance at his watch told him he didn't need to be at Scanlon's place for two hours. So, he decided to stop at an all-night diner near his place. Afterward, he would drive to Scanlon's place and meet with him for the last time. But instead of giving the man cash as usual, Hemminger had something else in mind. Scanlon couldn't be trusted to keep his mouth shut when he was high, so Hemminger had only one alternative open to him. He opened the glove compartment and made sure his service weapon was there and loaded. After all, junkies were killed all the time, and the man had fulfilled his purpose. So Hemminger was in no hurry. So what if I'm late? Let the bastard sweat for a while. It'll do 'im good. He chuckled as he pulled away from the curb.

With his legs tired from endless pacing, Scanlon collapsed on his worn light brown cloth sofa, his forehead in the palm of his hand, his elbow on his knee. Despite settling on the decision to tell Hemminger a lie, he still felt nervous because the man was nobody's fool. If he even suspected he was being lied to, Scanlon knew he would end up a dead man. Still, what choice did he have? It was either that, or admit he'd messed up during the phone call to Hotchner. Messing up a job was not something the man tolerated.

A glance at his wall clock told Scanlon it was about one-and-a-half-hours before the man was due to arrive. He figured the time he had would best be put to good use by trying to calm himself down before Hemminger arrived. Scanlon got to his feet and walked over to the beaten-up cabinet on which sat a bottle of cheap liquor and several tumblers. He poured a full glass of liquor, put down the bottle, picked up the tumbler, and stared at the brown liquid in the glass. Then he downed the contents in one gulp. He grabbed the bottle again and was about to pour another glass, when there was a knock on the door. He looked at the clock again. It was fifteen minutes later than it had been. He figured Hemminger might be early, so he sat the bottle down and walked toward the door.

"Is that you, Jason?" he asked through the door, gripping the doorknob.

"This is the police," a voice announced. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

Scanlon released the doorknob as if it burned his hand, and panic set in right away. His eyes darted nervously around the room as he tried to decide what to do. His eyes returned to the door when someone knocked again. He wanted to kick himself for making the cops aware he was home.

"Carson Scanlon, we know you're home. We'd like to talk with you. You have one minute to open this door," Detective Moeller announced. After Agent Rossi had told him what had happened, the man was anything but in a good mood. In fact, he was furious. If only he could have just five minutes alone with Scanlon. He would pound him into the floorboards, and not give a damn about his badge. Agent Hotchner was a good man. The best man he had the pleasure to work with professionally. And for someone like Carson Scanlon to pull his CPS scam again, and threaten to take Hotchner's son, well, it enraged him. He glanced at the nearest uniformed officer as he reached for and pulled out his own weapon, and readied himself to kick down the flimsy wooden door.

But before anybody moved, the door opened slowly and Carson Scanlon appeared in the doorway with both hands raised.

"Don't…don't shoot me," the man whined, eyes darting around before landing on Moeller. "I…I surrender." He looked like a scared rabbit cornered by a predator with no way out.

Hemminger, having finished his dinner, checked the time and figured it would be past midnight when he reached Scanlon's place. He figured it best to get what he needed to do finished so he can return home, relax, and plan how else he can torture Aaron Hotchner. After he climbed back inside his car, he took a pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket pocket, removed one, and stuck it between his lips. After striking a match and lighting the cigarette, he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot. Scanlon's place was no more than thirty minutes away from the diner. Might as well finish the job without further delay.

A few minutes later, he had just turned onto Scanlon's street when he suddenly stopped his car midway around a corner, and stared. There, further down the street, were the blinking lights from the police cars outside what he knew to be Scanlon's house. He swore softly as his clenched fist struck the steering wheel. That stupid bastard! Just how did the cops find out about Scanlon? As he pondered that question, he watched as a handcuffed Scanlon was led by the arm by a plainclothes cop toward a patrol car.

As Scanlon was being led away, he glanced down the street and spotted Hemminger's car in the distance which he knew by sight. He frowned as he imagined what the agent was thinking at this moment. Fortunately he had no idea exactly how lucky he was to have been arrested before Hemminger had arrived. If he had known, he might have reacted differently when the cops knocked on his door. He quickly looked away and let out a deep breath, hoping nobody else had spotted Hemminger's car. He remained oblivious as the rear passenger door of the squad car was opened for him.

"Take 'im to Quantico," Moeller ordered an officer. "The FBI is waiting to talk with 'im."

A look of panic appeared as Scanlon's head snapped around in Moeller's direction. "FBI?"

Moeller grinned like a Cheshire cat. "That's right. The feds are requesting your presence, Carson. Seems you've peaked their interest with a phone call you made earlier."

Scanlon struggled against the officer who tried to get him into the back seat of the vehicle. "What phone call? I ain't done nothin' wrong. You got the wrong guy." He was forced into the back seat and the officer stepped aside for his boss. Moeller held open the door and stood over the panicking man.

"If you haven't done anything, Carson, then you'll be back home in a few hours," Moeller chuckled. It would be a long time before the con man tasted freedom again. Especially if Agent Rossi had anything to say about it. "But I got the impression you're gonna be enjoying FBI hospitality for a long time." He closed the car door as Scanlon keep claiming he hadn't done anything wrong. Moeller smirked as he turned and walked away. He almost felt sorry for Scanlon. Almost but not quite. He reached inside his coat, removed his cell phone, and pressed the button for one number. It was answered on the second ring.

"Dave? Moeller. I've got your man in custody."

Hemminger had seen enough. Knowing he couldn't stay where he was without arousing suspicion, he slowly backed up his vehicle, and eased it backward around the corner from which he had come. He realized Scanlon had seen him, but that didn't assure him of anything. The man was a druggie, a con man, and a liar. But when he was high or needed a fix, he would sell out his own mother. Hemminger turned his car around and headed away from the police occupied area. He knew exactly where he wanted to go. As he drove, he thought about Hotchner. By now, the agent must be a wreck believing he was about to have his son taken from him. That thought excited him. And he wanted never to lose this incredible sensation. But he was aware to try and keep this sensation, he had to come up with the next step in his plan.

As he slowed at a red light, a twisted grin appeared. While he researched Hotchner, he recalled that his ex-sister-in-law, Jessica Brooks, watched his son whenever he went out of town on a case. And since Hotchner was now in the hospital, he was positive the boy was staying with his aunt. All he needed was to make the woman look as bad as Hotchner. In his mind, it would show that Hotchner not only abused his own son, but the person he had watch his son, was just as careless. This would guarantee the ex-sister-in-law wouldn't get custody of the boy either. He input Jessica's address into his GPS navigation unit to get directions to her home. But what could he do to further his agenda? Maybe the child could have an accident while in the woman's custody? Yes, an accident would work quite well. A smile appeared deciding an accident is how he would carry out the next step in his plan to upset Hotchner, and discredit his ex-sister-in-law as well.

Rossi put away his cell phone after speaking with Detective Moeller. There was a smirk on his tired face. He studied the faces of his teammates who looked just as exhausted as him.

"What did Detective Moeller have to say, Rossi?" asked Morgan wearily.

"He arrested Carson Scanlon a few minutes ago," the older agent announced. "He's gonna bring 'im to us for questioning."

Morgan ran a hand down his face. "Who do you want to question 'im?"

"Nobody. I want 'im to spend tonight in a nice cozy holding cell and think about what's gonna happen come morning," said Rossi.

Reid appeared confused. "Why do you want to do that?"

Prentiss grinned and looked at the older man. "You want Scanlon to be nervous by the time he's questioned tomorrow."

"You got it," Rossi assured her with a weary smile. "I want 'im to worry all night about what he's gonna be facing when he's questioned." He let out a deep breath. "I'm gonna wait here for Moeller to bring Scanlon in, lock 'im in a holding cell, and then I'm gonna head home and get some sleep." He looked at his watch. "It's after midnight. Why don't the rest of you go home? Get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow. You don't need to wait here with me."

"No way, Rossi," Emily mildly argued. She glanced at her teammates and read what was in their eyes. "We're all gonna stay right here until Scanlon is locked up for the night. Then we'll all leave together."

"And I'll get Blackman's address tomorrow morning from my Baby Girl before I head to Detroit," Morgan explained.

Rossi opened his mouth preparing to argue, but shut it knowing it would be a waste of time. He just nodded, grateful for the company. But even in the presence of his teammates, he still worried about Hotch. How would he be in the morning? Especially after the phone call supposedly from CPS. Based on what Garcia had told him, he had a pretty good idea that Aaron was a wreck after that phone call. That's why I need to see you in the morning, Aaron. I need to make sure you understand somebody's playing mind games with you. You won't lose Jack. And I will make sure you don't lose that little boy, Aaron. I will find out if Hemminger's behind this. And if he is, I promise you he will pay dearly.

Hemminger parked his car a block from the Brooks' house, and walked the rest of the way. Once there, he studied the small brick house from the outside, and saw the lights were out throughout except in the living room. He pressed his back against the outer wall and edged toward the closed window to get a look inside. But before he did, he glanced around to make sure nobody was outside who might question why a strange man was lurking outside the Brooks house at this hour.

Not spotting anybody, he quietly continued forward until he stood beside the window which was partially hidden behind some shrubbery, and for this he was grateful. He peeked through the corner of the window, and saw a blonde woman he suspected was Jessica Brooks, seated on a couch beside a man with black hair. They appeared to be engaged in deep in conversation. He didn't recognize the man and didn't really care. Looks like Hotchner's former-sister-in-law has herself a sugar daddy. Wonder if ole Hotch knows Jessica is banging some guy with his son in the same house? Wouldn't CPS love to find that out?

He decided to file that information away for the time being. As he was about to move away from the window, something inside caught his attention. A smirk appeared seeing a small child rubbing his eyes and wearing Captain America pajamas walking down the stairs and toward the living room. He figured the kid must be Hotchner's son. This might just prove interesting. He silently cursed that he couldn't hear what was being said.

"Aunt Jess?" the tired child's voice said.

Jessica looked around from her conversation with Daniel Harmon to see her nephew nearly asleep as he stood in his bare feet on the carpeted bottom step.

"Jack, why are you up at this hour?" she asked, surprised. "You went to bed hours ago." She excused herself, got to her feet, and approached her nephew. She leaned over and put a hand on his mussed up hair. "Why aren't you asleep?"

The sleepy child looked up into his aunt's face. "I heard voices," Jack said. "Is daddy here?" he asked hopefully.

Jess smiled and ran her hand over Jack's head, smoothing down the boy's hair. "No, sweetie, your daddy isn't here. I'm sorry."

"Then who was yous talkin' to, Aunt Jess?" Jack asked before his eyes landed on Harmon. The child pressed his body against his aunt and clung to her tightly.

Daniel slowly got to his feet and advanced toward the small boy. He noticed the child press closer against his aunt and tighten his grip on her pants leg. He bent forward with hands on knees and smiled affectionately at Jack.

"My name's Daniel. I'm very pleased to meet you, Jack. Can I call you Jack?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "I guess its okay."

"Well, Jack, I'm a friend of your Uncle Dave." He saw the boy's eyes brighten hearing Rossi's name.

"Yous know Uncle Dave?"

"Ummm-hmmm. Your Uncle Dave and I have been friends a long time. In fact, he asked me to come and visit you and Aunt Jess."

"He did?"

"Yes he did."

"Why?"

Jess looked at Harmon silently asking for help. But Daniel didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. He maintained direct eye contact with the boy. Dave Rossi had told him Jack Hotchner asked a lot of questions just like his father, Aaron, so not to be surprised. Daniel had to marvel how inquisitive the boy was. Especially for one so young. Must have gotten that from his father being a profiler.

"Your Uncle Dave wanted me to meet you and your aunt."

"Why?"

"Well, he had things he wanted me to discuss with your aunt. Your Uncle Dave wanted me to handle that for him."

"Why?"

Jessica decided to field Jack's question and bring a quick end to the boy's inquisitiveness. "Jack, sweetie, Daniel needs to discuss something with me that isn't made for little boys' ears."

"That means its grown-up stuff," Jack replied sleepily.

"How do you know about grown-up stuff, Jack?" asked Harmon curiously. "Have you ever overheard any grown-up stuff you shouldn't have?"

"No. Daddy and Aunt Jess always send me to my room when they talk about grown-up stuff. They always say I'm too little to hear grown-up stuff."

"And they're right, Jack."

Jessica smiled. "Sweetie, it's time for all little boys to be in bed and asleep. Why don't you go on upstairs, and I'll be up in a minute and tuck you in again. All right?"

"Okay, Aunt Jess." He kissed her on the cheek, then glanced momentarily at Harmon. "Bye." He turned and scurried back upstairs. After he was gone, Jess turned back to face Harmon.

"Sorry about that," she apologized. "He usually sleeps through the night. But since Aaron's been in the hospital, he wakes up sometimes. And when he hears voices he thinks his daddy's home. I sometimes have to remind him Aaron's still in the hospital and will be there for a while."

"No problem. He's a lot like my son, Skylar. He's Jack's age and asks a lot of questions too," Harmon straightened and stood erect. "In fact, he reminds me a lot of Skylar."

Jess glanced upstairs for a moment. "I'll be right back. I just need to tuck Jack back in his bed and make sure he doesn't interrupt us again. Then I'll be right back."

"Take your time. We're nearly done anyway."

Hemminger moved away from the window after Jessica had gone upstairs shortly after Jack. He had to admit Hotchner had a cute kid. But he couldn't allow that to deter him from what he needed to do to get Hotchner's kid taken away. He eased out from behind the shrubbery, and looked around the backyard. There was no way to tell how long before Jessica's lover left. Or even if he left. So he had to be quick.

He spotted a swing set. A sandbox. Two soccer nets. And a backyard pool complete with a slide. A wicked thought came to him as he got an idea how to hopefully cause an accident to happen. An accident that neither Jessica Brooks or Aaron Hotchner would be able to explain to Child Protective Services. All he needed was a pair of pliers and maybe a screwdriver, and he had both in the toolkit he kept in his trunk.