Morgan and Hotch walked towards a small, well-kempt duplex. On the driveway and sidewalk happy chalk drawings were littered; rainbows and flowers and trees were drawn in bright colors.
"Nice house," Morgan commented, walking up the colorful sidewalk.
"Before four months ago, it had a nice family, too." Hotch knocked on the door.
"Four months is a long time. There's not going to be much they can give us."
"Anything helps."
Just as Hotch finished speaking, the door creaked in and a tired, middle aged woman opened the door. "Can I help you?"
"Mrs. Hennings, my name is Aaron Hotchner, this is my associate Derrick Morgan," they raised their badges, "we're with the FBI. We were hoping we could come in and ask a few questions."
She blinked. "Is this about Bobby? Did you find him?"
"Ma'am, I'm afraid there's no news yet. We just have a couple of questions regarding your husband," Morgan said. "Can we come in?"
"Oh. Um, yeah, sure."
They stepped into the small foyer, which was covered with small bits of clutter.
"I'm sorry, it's not usually such a mess," Mrs. Hennings apologized, her hands shaking as she began to pick up shirts and toys from the ground. "It's just been so chaotic, with the girls, and the mortgage, and Bobby…"
"Ma'am, when is the last you spoke to your husband?" Morgan asked. She set the things she was holding on a worn table.
"Uh, let me think… come, sit down," she ushered them to the living room, clearing away the clutter so there was a place they could sit. "It was four months ago, I suppose. It was a Thursday, I remember because Lillian had her soccer practice that evening, and Bobby was going to pick up. He never… he didn't…" she trailed off and looked away so the agents couldn't see the tears forming in her eyes.
"I understand talking about this is hard, but anything that you can give us helps," Hotch said gently. The woman considered.
"It was… the seventeenth, I believe. Yeah, that's right."
"Did your husband act strangely before he disappeared? Do or say anything out of the ordinary?" Hotch asked.
"What? Do you mean to say he knew he was going to vanish? Ran away on purpose, leaving me and the girls?" she snapped.
"We weren't saying anything of the sort. I'm sure that's not the case," Morgan quickly assured her. "We're just trying to get a vague idea of what happened."
"Maybe Robert mentioned a friend he was going to visit? Or something he was going to purchase?" Hotch asked. "Something like going to test drive a car he found online, perhaps?"
"No, nothing like that," she said, her eyes distant as she thought. "There was never any money in our budget for extra expenses or drinks with friends. But… now that you mention it, he did-"
Before she could finish there was a door slamming and a pitter patter of small feet as a small blond child whipped around the corner. "Mommy! I saw a car outside! Is Daddy-"
She froze in her tracks at the sight of Derrick and Hotch.
"Hey, June Bug. Come here," Mrs. Hennings held open her arms.
"Mommy?" she asked, confused. She crawled into her mother's lap.
"Uh, boys, this is my daughter, June. June, these are… people who know your daddy," she said.
"Hello," she said shyly.
"Hi, princess," said Morgan. "I like your stuffed animal. What's his name?"
"George," she smiled, hugging her Curious George plush tight.
"June Bug, where are your sisters?" Mrs. Hennings asked, her voice light and sweet.
"With Mrs. O'Reilly's, next door. I came running over when I saw the car." She looked at the agents hopefully. "Is my Daddy with you?"
"No, Baby, your Daddy isn't here," Morgan said, bending down to June's level. "We're still looking for him."
"Daddy's still on vacation, June Bug."
"When's he coming home?" she whined. Tears glistened in her eyes.
"Soon, baby. Soon." Mrs. Hennings smiled.
"June, did your daddy say anything to you before he… before he went on vacation?" Hotch asked.
June shook her head glumly.
"Okay, well, we have a couple questions left to ask your mommy. Maybe you and George can go play in your room for a while?" Hotch suggested.
June looked to her mother. "Go ahead, June Bug. You can have an hour of T.V. time. I'll come get you in a little bit."
The girl's face lit up and she climbed off her mom's lap and darted down the hall.
Mrs. Hennings breathed in a shaky voice. "I just don't know what to tell her…. How to explain why her Daddy… why Bobby isn't…"
"You're doing the best you can," Morgan said delicately. "Your situation is unimaginable."
She nodded, her face pinched. "Thank you."
"Mrs. Hennings," Hotch said, "right before June came in, you were about to say something about your husband. Something about his actions the day he disappeared?"
"Right, right," she dabbed at her eyes. "He kept smiling, and acting a little nervous. When I asked, he just said that some things were going to change. He started talking about taking the family on a trip to Disney Land for June's birthday last month. Where we'd get the money for that I have no idea…"
Hotch and Morgan shared a look.
"Was this normal behavior, fantasizing about money you didn't have?" Morgan asked. Mrs. Hennings took a deep breath and let it out.
"Well, everyone talks about what they'd buy if they could sometimes, but this seemed different. It seemed… real."
"Like he actually had a way of getting money?" Hotch suggested.
Her eyes went wide. "You don't think he could have been mixed up in something, do you? Why… no! Not Bobby. He's the most level headed man I've ever known!"
"It's too soon to make those kinds of conclusions," Morgan said.
"Too soon? Too soon?! My husbands been missing! For four months! He missed our older daughter's birthday, and you're telling me its too soon?!" She hissed. "He could be hurt, or… or… Too soon?!"
"We understand that this is very upsetting," said Morgan empathetically.
"No, you don't understand! My husband, the father of my children! He just… he's not…"
"Mommy?" came a call from the top of the stairs.
Mrs. Hennings hiccuped and pinched the bridge of her nose. "My daughter…"
"Go ahead," said Hotch.
She got up. "Thank you. I… I think that's all I can give you boys, I'm sorry. My official report is at the police station… I…"
"That's quite alright. We'll get going, you can go to your daughter," Morgan said.
She nodded and swiftly made her exit.
"That was rough," Morgan sighed as they walked back to the car.
Hotch looked grim. "One down. Twenty five more to go."
The large building that Rossi, JJ, Emily entered was obviously originally built as an office building but was completely stripped of any desks, cubicles or decorations. The walls were painted a dull white but were clean. Along the walls folded up cots were stacked in neat piles. A janitor with swirling fish tattoos was slowly mopping the floor. As they looked around the room, one of the doors outside of the room opened and a young lady appeared with a welcoming smile.
"Hello, we were hoping we could ask a few questions," said Rossi.
"Come back later tonight and we might have a vacancy. It's minimal plumbing, breakfast isn't provided and you have to be out by six," the lady said.
"I… No, we're not—"
"I'm Jenneifer Jareau, this is Emily Prentiss and David Rossi. We're with the FBI," said JJ, holding up her badge.
"Oh, sorry," she said, looking a bit embarrassed. "I'm Bethany. I'm kinda the boss around here. Well, co-boss. What can I do for you?"
"Where is everyone?" Emily asked.
"Why did you assume I was homeless?" Rossi asked at the same time.
"We can't afford to provide shelter for everyone twenty-four-seven. It's the most we can do to keep this place running during the nights, and even that is costly."
"Have you been having more vacancies than normal?" JJ asked.
"No… but this place always fills up so quick; sometimes people have fights just to get in," she said.
"Have you noticed the disappearance of any of your regulars?" Rossi asked. "Anyone that usually shows up but suddenly stops?"
"I suppose… but it's not unusual for these kinds of folks to up and leave," Bethany said. "Is someone in trouble?"
"That's what we're trying to find out," said Emily.
"Do you know any names of any of the regulars or anywhere we could find them?" JJ asked.
"Sure, let me just go get the records," she said, swiftly walking into a back office.
"Place like this gets packed… it would be hard to notice anyone missing. It's a wonder anyone noticed at all," said Emily.
"Why did she assume I was homeless?" demanded Rossi quietly to the others.
"Probably the clothes," Emily said, holding back a smile.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"What? Oh, nothing," Emily dismissively. She shared a quick look with JJ and held back another smile. Rossi looked at his less-than-formal clothes with a frown.
"You look fine," JJ said.
"Here!" said Bethany, coming back with a stack of papers. "Here's the record of everyone who's been here since the beginning of the year."
"Thank you for your help," said JJ.
"Anything I can do, just let me know."
As they walked out of the shelter, Emily flipped through the papers. "There's bound to be fake identities in here. We can't be sure which one are real and which ones aren't."
"We can cross check them with police records, something is bound to show up," JJ said. They picked up the large pile of papers and left.