Following the goalpost incident, Reid is abducted by a sexual predator. One guidance counselor seeks the team out to save Reid, and give him a new life with the BAU.
Including today, I have four free days to write. I am determined to write as much as humanly possible over the course of the next few days.
Note about the timeline: I'm setting the story in the early two-thousands, because if the goalpost incident happened now, it would be all over social media, and the kids would be facing consequences. For the team timeline it is post-Gideon. The lineup is, Hotch, J.J., Prentiss, Rossi, Morgan, and Garcia.
Rating: T with non-explicit M references.
Searching the Cracks
Reid thought he was safe. He thought wrong. Someone he trusted turned out to be his worst nightmare. Freezing naked in a garage, and tied to a ladder, he questioned where anyone would find him.
Hotch
It was a rough case. Strippers were being abandoned along the Vegas Strip, with their ears cut off. The media attention was intense. After the third victim, everyone was frustrated and out for blood. It wasn't going to get any easier.
Hotch was staring at the board, hoping answers would magically pop out at this point.
"Agent Hotchner?"
A patrolman was standing at the doorway.
"A Jane Haller has been standing at the sergeant's desk for three hours and is refusing to leave until she speaks with an FBI agent."
Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't need this. But local PD was becoming less and less friendly. Maybe if he got rid of the woman quickly it would earn him some goodwill back.
"Send her in," he said.
Jane Haller looked ready to kill. Dressed in a cheap fraying, but nonetheless immaculately crisp gray pants suit with flats, it was clear she was not to be messed with. Her skin was closer to Morgan's color, suggesting mixed race, in addition to her dark hair being piled up in a neat bun. Hotch had a feeling it wasn't going to easy to shake this woman until she said what she wanted to say.
"How can I help you Ms. Haller?" he said.
"Dr. Haller," she said. "There are three missing boys and you aren't doing jack about it."
"Have you met with agents from the local field office?"
"Why the Hell would I be bothering you if I got anywhere with them?" she snapped.
"Tell me about the boys," he said.
She pulled out photos from her purse, and pinned them to the board.
"Johnny Durkin, age seven, last seen at the playground on Dixon street, three months ago. He left a note with his family in the mailbox saying he was running away. I read the note, it had words no seven-year-old would know.
Wyatt Simonson, age nine, last seen at the library on Scott Dr. two months ago. He sent his family a Mickey postcard saying he was going to Disney Land. The label over the stamp was from Nevada.
Spencer Reid, age eleven, rumored to have been last seen at Las Vegas high school, missing for nine days. A note was sent to the school from his Uncle Daniel and Aunt Ethel saying they were taking the boy to live with them in Reno. That doesn't work because the 'Uncle Daniel' is serving time for an armed robbery and 'Aunt Ethel' is also serving time as a big-league meth distributor."
Hotch looked at the boys. One was Hispanic, the second one was African-American, and the third was white.
"How do you know the boys?" he asked.
"I know Spencer Reid as I am the lead guidance counselor at Las Vegas High."
"Wait, the kid is in high school?"
"One of the most gifted students I have ever met. He's trying to choose between Yale and Caltech for college."
"Aren't his parents worried?"
"His father died of a drug overdose two months ago after abandoning the family a year ago. His mother just died yesterday from getting hit by a bus after running into traffic. She had paranoid schizophrenia."
Hotch didn't say anything.
"Agent Hotchner, these are the kids no one is going to look for. I spent the weekend hitting the pavement and found the missing kid fliers covered with garage sale notices. I know Spencer. I also suspect the jocks are hiding something from me about what happened to him. I'll be damned I don't find out what, soon."
He looked at the boys. His heart ached for the third one. Then he looked at the autopsy photos of the women.
Haller stepped in front of him.
"I feel for the women too. I know no one would've given a shit about them if they hadn't been dumped where tourists could walk over them with their ears missing. But you see the pattern. Reid may not have long to live."
Hotch didn't know what possessed him to relent. Maybe it was how articulate Haller was in the way she presented her case. It could have something to do with Jack turning two in a few weeks. Maybe it was the look Spencer Reid was showing through the photo: His smile was awkward and wide, like he was trying to convince people his world wasn't constantly crumbling. Ultimately it didn't matter why. He wanted to help.
"I know you're not going to like my answer," he said. "But give me three days to try to wrap up this case. I'll see what I can do."
Haller's stance softened ever so slightly.
"That's the best I can hope for at this point."
"Can I see the rest of your findings?"
She handed him a file out of her purse, with business card.
"Call if you need anything. I hope I'm right in trusting you Agent Hotchner."
"I make no promises as to the outcome."
"I know," she said. "I'll let you get back to work."
Haller left the conference room.
Morgan and Prentiss appeared. They looked at the board where the boys were posted.
"Who are the kids?" Morgan asked
"Our next case," he said. "Did you find any new leads?
"We found someone who frequents one of the diners some of the girls hit after a shift."
"Tell me more."
They talked. No one could take their eyes of the board of boys. Hotch felt determined to save Spencer Reid.