AN: I wanted to post three chapters tonight, but I need to take a weedwhacker and then a scalpel to Ch. 3.
This was a fun chapter to write. I picked up on what attracted Reid to Cat and ran with it.
Chapter Two:
Beth
My first order of business was to interview Gideon Reid. Gideon had caught wind of the fact his father was being profiled and asked that I come before he left the country for three months.
I took the train to get to New York where he lived. It gave me time to gather my thoughts on the process.
So far, I had gathered ten people to interview from different periods. I was saving Reid for last. I intended to just let people talk and get their stories. Editing would come later. These people had lived such full lives they were entitled to the chance to make sure their stories were told properly.
Gideon Reid's apartment represented a life already well-lived at the age of thirty-seven. An artist's reproduction of Starry Night was the center point of the family room. Shelves were dotted with knickknacks such as a jackalope statue and what looked like Mayan sculptures. The furniture was from different eras ranging from ancient Rome to Versailles. Somehow all the color schemes and textures worked together to create a look of refined eclecticism.
I set up the camera and did checks to make sure everything was functioning.
Gideon sat in a chair with dog faces carved into the armrests. His hair was more blond than brown and he kept it long, making him look younger. His smile filled his face as he presented a look of relaxed playfulness.
"Thank you for coming on short notice," he said. "I know I have key information to any story about my dad and I wouldn't want you to wait until I got back."
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Mongolia. I need to leave with extra time to adjust to the altitude. One should not try to examine Buddha statues while light-headed. Not that I haveā¦"
Gideon worked for an artifact repatriation organization. It took him all over the world as he worked to return items of cultural significance to where they belonged. It was dangerous work and that is why he seemed to enjoy it.
"Have you heard from your mother recently?" I asked.
"She died escorting, a group of refugees to Spain," he said lightly.
"Will you ever believe your mother is dead?"
"Like in the soap operas, only when I see a body," he said with a laugh. "Even then I'm not sure I'd put a government past sending a double back."
"Why don't we start with Roberta," I said. "I'm not sure we even have how they met in any records we have of her."
His smile broadened.
"I anticipated this question. Dad is so paranoid about the wrong people knowing things about Mom. The thing is, all the bad people know something about Mom. She entrusted me to share her story when the time was right."
Gideon pulled out a device the size of an old digital recorder. He placed it on the table and a holographic projection of Roberta Galloway appeared.
She looked to be in her fifties with shoulder-length graying sandy-blond hair and pronounced cheekbones. The projection even managed to capture her eyes, her most alluring feature as they were the color of stunning blue sapphires.
"So, my son has decided it is time the world learned how I met Spencer Reid."
Roberta:
Spies are often asked by the younger generation what was done during the first pandemic. Did you cross the border illegally when everything shut down? Only the desperate amateurs did that. The average spy has to-do lists for almost every country they might end up stuck in. I planned to be stuck in America.
My to-do list was kind of dull: Plant incriminating evidence on a politician. Trade intel with a Russian in Miami. Threaten an ambassador. Kill Spencer Reid. Out an asset in San Diego. Brush up on language skills as my Farsi wasn't that good. The usual.
Oh, you care about me killing him, don't you? Where did I get the idea?
Let's back up to 2006: Chateau Marmont and I am being paid big money to surveil a random senator's son. I'm served a roofied drink by a serial killer bartender. Bad things happen to me. You don't need to know the details.
I woke up to Cat Adams offering me a water bottle on the beach while I was wearing only a t-shirt. I see she is holding a tablet out for me.
"The morning-after pill," she said.
I took it as the worst had already happened. A pill couldn't do much more damage.
"I really liked you," she said in that sultry daring tone that would entrance Reid. "I didn't want you to die."
Even in my compromised state, I gathered that she worked for my abductor.
"So, what do you want from me?" I asked.
She grabbed my hand and wrote down a number. "One day I will text you from this number and you will kill a person for me if he or she is not dead yet."
"How do you know I'll kill the person?"
"You strike me as a woman of honor."
For those wondering, she killed the serial killer bartender after he tried to rat her out to the Feds.
Cat sent me the kill text after she attempted to destroy the Brenner family fell through. If I didn't honor the order there was a chance, she had another contingency. She was put to death two weeks later.
I chose to be locked down in the states. I could lean into my Irish accent when I was desperate for a drink. I had enough colored contacts, money, and identities to stay hidden for a couple of years. I crossed the country twice. It was the June of 2020 when I figured my Farsi was good enough and I might as well get the killing over with.
He hadn't shaved in weeks and his apartment was in disarray. No books were on any of the shelves. He sat curled up on his bed holding an urn.
"Are you here to kill me?" he asked, his voice hoarse from crying.
Part of me wanted to end your father's suffering Gideon. He looked that miserable. Instead, I looked at him and dropped my strangulation tool. I stepped over the mess and lay on his bed.
"I tried to get her out!" he wailed. "I arranged for nursing care at Rossi's house. But the day I was to discharge her, she developed a fever. I fought so hard to get her out that I ended up in jail for a day. Now she's gone! I have nothing to live for!"
"The world will need you when all of this is over," I said.
I had read up on his heroics and incarceration. I could see what Cat liked about him.
"No one needs me! Everyone has family! Just kill me!"
He pulled out his gun and took the safety off. I took it and pulled the bullets out.
I stared at the ceiling. "You know I was only ten when I knew I wanted this life. I was on a bus to Derry to see family when British soldiers boarded. Everyone was terrified of these wains carrying guns and my first thought was to see if I could win a starring contest with one of them. I knew then I would never fear guns the way normal people do."
He stopped sniffling at some point during the story. His attention was completely on me.
It was like hundred-one Arabian nights; except I was saving your father from himself. I told him about my father's ties with the mob and how he paid them to have his suicide look like murder so my mammy, sister, and I would get the insurance money. The next day he told me more about his mom. I shared how my mam returned to Boston while I was at Trinity. He let me go out to get some proper food for him. Then I told him the mob asked me to do short jobs and that is when Interpol caught me and asked me to double-cross them. We made love the night I told him about how I met Emily Prentiss while she was undercover with Doyle. It went on like this for two weeks with minimal contact with the outside world.
I bought a straight razor one day. We showered together and I pressed the blade to his neck.
"This is the last time I'll offer," I said.
He let it stay for a second longer than I would have liked. Then he kissed me passionately and I think that is when you were conceived.
Spencer needed someone who wanted him at that moment. Remember his team was in the wind with remote consultation work. Covid killed Krystal. Covid-19 went through J.J. and Matt Simmons's family and nearly killed the baby. Prentiss was stuck in Boulder. No one had time for him. I did.
I had a stockpile of morning-after pills. I didn't use them. Early on I realized, I wanted my legacy to live on in this brilliant yet sad fellow.
The day of the first leaves fell in DC we talked long-term.
"I can't ask you to stay. I just know I haven't ever loved anyone like you. I don't want to love anyone else."
"I'm going to cash in my IRA early then," I said. "I can't stay forever, but please know you and this kid are the only people I care about."
That is the start of your happy childhood. I applied for business loans and opened the pub my Papa always dreamed of. Morgan helped renovate. Simmons leaped at the chance to get out of the FBI and offered to manage the place. Galloway was born.
I was only semi-retired. I maintained a network of contacts. I managed to sniff out the rest of Cat's contingencies for hurting your father. The restaurant was the premier place for clandestine meetings which is why I also built an extra room for privacy. I also used the business as a cover for some operations your father preferred not to know about.
But you can't keep a good spy in one place forever. Your father understood this early on. I do believe you're still mad at us for sending you to Canada but I hope you can see why we did what we did. I tried to be there for you when I could. I loved you and your father, but I couldn't escape the pull of the life I started for myself.
I hope I filled in some blanks. Probably not in the way you or anyone watching this, were hoping. Life can be extraordinarily sad. But then hope springs from a stranger's intent to finish her to-do list. That's life!
Beth:
I stared at Gideon. His smile was still present but thinner.
"Did you know?" I asked.
"I don't believe half the stuff my mom says. Though I did suspect there was some truth to their joke she came to kill him. I know he was in a low place when my mom met him. I just didn't know this low."
"Do you need a minute?"
"No. Let's continue. I suggest you track down Claudia Joubert next. She'll have more information about how the FBI shadow network was formed."
"Good to know."
I developed a feeling there was a whole lot that people, including the FBI, didn't know about Spencer Reid.
