Hours went by and there was no sign of Walter Lovejoy. Rossi and Reid started searched Waterson Park, with Morgan and Emily joining the hunt by scouring the surrounding area. The longer they searched, the more ground they covered, revealing no one fitting Lovejoy's description.
"No, I haven't seen him," A mother said as she looked at the picture of their unsub. "Who is he? Is he dangerous?"
"He's only interested in targeting twins." Reid assured. "We're just trying to see if he's made an appearance in the area. If you see anyone who spots his description, call the local authorities immediately. We have the local police around the area."
"I will," she assured, giving a frightened nod. Immediately, she turned to her two daughters about to ride down the slide. "Let's go, girls. We're going home now!"
Some people just overreacted, though Reid couldn't say he blamed her. He'd probably rush his kids home, too, if he found out a possible child murderer might be in the area, no matter who he was targeting.
He'd spoken to all the mothers and caregivers attending to the children on the playground. Rossi was over the hill there, questioning people along the bike path. The rain didn't last long and the sun was quickly breaking through the clouds. One of the many things he loved about his hometown. The rain never lasted long.
Deciding to take a break and wait for Rossi. He sat down on one of the benches, admiring the children at play. They all looked so happy, so alive and free. His eye caught the sight of a father, pushing his toddler in one of the sings, his chubby legs dangling through the leather straps. The little boy waved his arms excitedly as he flew through the hair, giggling and shrieking. His smiling father laughed with him.
It made his heart ache. He wanted that so much. He wanted to laugh and play with his son in the park. He wanted to read stories at bedtime and watch cartoons on Saturday morning… he wanted everything, every moment, good and bad. There was a time when baby's made him queasy and nervous, not wanting to burden himself with the responsibility of another life, even if it was just a few minutes. He couldn't understand why anyone would choose that… but he was different person now. He wanted one so much, it hurt.
As he watched, a buzzing disturbed him in his pocket, followed by the ringtone for anyone outside the team. At first, he thought it might be Bethany Rochester, calling to tell him her brother had come home. Pulling it out, though, he spotted an unknown number. "Dr. Reid," He said answering.
There was no answer at first, but he heard heavy breathing, like they were trying to stay calm. "Hey, it's me." Riley said on the other end. She was calling from the hospital.
There was no mistake, she'd been crying. "Hey," He said nervously. "I was wondering when you'd call, I was getting worried about you."
"Sorry," She replied. "I fell asleep for a little while."
She fell silent again, and Reid felt his stomach drop out. He could tell this wasn't some routine phone call. "Riley, what's wrong?"
A few sniffles followed before she could force herself to answer. "I want you to know I'm okay… but when I woke up, I, uh… I had some bleeding."
Reid closed his eyes, bracing himself so as not to get upset. So this was it? Everything they'd gone through and it was over like that.
"Are you okay?" Was the first thing he asked. She was his first priority.
"Yes, I'm fine. The bleeding has stopped for now. I don't have any cramping and I haven't passed any tissue. They said there wasn't nearly enough blood to suggest a miscarriage."
He gave a sigh of relief. "Do they have any idea what caused the bleeding?"
"Dr. Tucker said it just might be from implantation, which is normal. It could also be from the trauma of the accident and it'll heal on it's own. She did an exam. There's no definite sign and she said it's probably nothing… but it could mean I'm threatening to miscarry."
Next, all he heard was her soft sobs and whimpers. She was crying and all Reid wanted to do was pull her into his arms. Hold her and tell her over and over that it was going to be alright. He struggled to hang onto his composure. "Riley," He stuttered. "Please… stop crying, it'll be alright."
She gasped and tried to catch her breath. "I'm so sorry."
"Sweetheart, nothing has happened yet." He assured. "The doctor's right, it's probably nothing, you can't lose hope."
"I know," she stammered. "I know, I'm just… I'm worried."
Reid thought for a moment. If he had the keys, he'd already be on his way to the car. "I'm coming to the hospital; you need me there."
"No!" Riley cried. "I'm okay… I was just scared, and I promised I'd tell if anything happened. I don't need you to come sit with me, you do what you have to do there."
"Are you sure?" Reid asked. "I don't mind, I'd rather be with you anyway."
"And I'd rather you be here, but you're needed on the case." She insisted, starting to catch her breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so upset, I should have let myself calm down before I called you. You're always overprotective at times like this."
"I think I have every right to be overprotective right now." He said sternly. "You're pregnant and you're hurt… and I feel like I'm not doing enough to help you. If you're sure you're alright, then okay, I won't come… but you just have to say so and I'm there."
She paused, and he could tell she was thinking of going back on her decision. "No, you're needed there. I'll be alright, I promise."
Reid let out a sigh, wished she had changed her mind. "You will call me if anything else happens?"
"I will." She answered. "I actually feel a little better now that you know."
"You're sure you don't want me to come?" He asked one more time.
"I'm sure," Riley said. "I can't be selfish and keep you all to myself when other people need you."
"Why not? I'd do that to you if I could." He said, and was able to smile when he heard a giggle from her. "Call me in an hour, just to let me know you're doing okay."
"I will." She agreed. "Be careful, I love you."
Reid closed his eyes and said, almost in a whisper, "I love you, too." It was so soft and gentle, like he was saying it to her in bed, holding each other as they drifted off to sleep. He waited to hear the click on the other end before hanging up the phone.
As he put it away, Rossi, who had heard the end of the conversation, came into view, sitting down on the bench. He handed Reid a soda he'd bought at a vendor and asked, "What's going on?"
"Riley had some bleeding." Reid answered, clutching his drink. The condensation from the ice fighting the heat moistened his hand. "She didn't miscarry yet, but…"
"That might not mean anything, Reid." He said kindly.
"It could mean everything." He argued, looking over at him. "I just wish I could know either way what's going to happen… I can't stand this waiting, I can't stand trying to be positive when everything in me… just screams at me that the worst is going to happen." It seemed saying this broke a dam inside him, and he couldn't stop it if he tried. "My wife could have been killed last night, my baby might die before it ever has a chance to live… and I'm too weak to protect either of them, I'm too weak to even help!"
"Whoa," Rossi cried. "Who the hell said you were weak?'
He wouldn't answer, instead looking away to stare at his black sneakers. His face was stern and hard, like he was trying to control himself down to the last microscopic expression. He didn't want to open up about this, he could tell.
"What is it Reid?" Rossi wondered. "This is something about your dad, isn't it?"
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."
"Reid, if you need to talk, I'm here to listen." He asserted. "You trust me, don't you?"
Of course he trusted him, he trusted his whole team. He could tell them almost anything, but something like this… it wasn't easy for him to let out.
Reid knew he might feel better if he got some of this off his chest. "When I found out Riley was pregnant… I don't know, it was like something woke inside me. I just had this determination that I would be a good father, that I would always be there for my family, no matter what. It wasn't so much being better than my own father, just… being the best that I could be. Now, with everything happening, I feel so helpless… like I'm watching my family destroy themselves and I can't stop it. That's irrational, I know, but emotions aren't always logical or easy to explain… and I'm not trying to answer it, it's just… I'm starting to wonder if he felt this inadequate, when he started drifting away." He glanced at his friend, who's expression was neither bothered nor judgmental. "If that's the case, at least he made it a few years into my life before he starting feeling like this."
Rossi thought about that carefully before he answered, "Have you thought about talking to your dad about that?"
"Why would I want to talk about that?" He asked. He didn't even like talking about it now.
"Because, like you said, you're wondering how he felt." He replied. "Reid, I've gotten to know your dad a bit. I met him when we were here, what was it, five years ago. I met him when he came to DC a few years after that, we talked a little at your wedding… he's a decent guy. Leaving all those years ago was a mistake and he knows that. I think if you need to discuss that with him, he'd be willing to… for you."
Rossi was right, Reid had to agree. "I guess we should discuss it more. We talked about it a little, but not much… I feel so guilty, I've been telling Riley for years she needs to get over her phobia, when I won't even accept that I have one."
"Look, I don't know what you're dad's going to tell you, but it's a fact that every father is afraid before their child is born." Rossi said. "Trust me, you think it's a genetic disposition? I hear the angst of a new dad. Now," He got to his feet, clutching his drink, "if I've put your mind at ease for the time being, a couple of girls bike riding thought they recognized Lovejoy from a man by the duck pond, I suggest we try searching over there. I'll call Morgan and Emily to stick to that area."
Reid agreed, taking a sip of his soft drink as he, too, got to his feet. Maybe he was just nervous, hating to see Riley in pain and his child in danger, powerless to stop any of it.
As they started down the path, Reid was thankful he had Rossi to talk to. He did in fact comfort him for a time, but for some reason, he didn't feel quite satisfied.
It was times like this, he so badly wished he could talk to Gideon. He had come into Reid's life when he was desperate for paternal guidance. The elder man's kindness and gentle demeanor made it easy for him to feel safe… he could talk to him about anything. What would the man say to him now?
Reid tried to consider that as they walked, thinking back to all the times Gideon had helped him and guided him, practically from the very beginning. He'd never forget the day Gideon came into his life, a day that had changed him forever.
He knew he should have been watching for their unsub, but he allowed his mind to wander a bit, leaving the reality around him. Reid remembered one part of that day that invigorated him. It was spectacular and breathtaking… and lasted only a second, never to come into his life again. It was a part he saved just for him. Something secret he never told anyone… including Riley…
This was it. This was what Spencer had been preparing for most of his academic life. He stood before the vast tan building, intimidated by its size. The headquarters of the Federal Bureau of Investigation… it was just like he imagined.
"Come on, Spencer, he'll be expecting us." Professor Connelly said, putting a hand on his shoulder to steer him inside. An old friend of his was an agent here, a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He had told him about Spencer's exceptional qualifications and his lifelong preperation in joining the FBI. He believed the young genius would make a good profiler. With that in mind, the agent agreed to meet with him today.
The lobby was quiet and very intimidating. Spencer was clutching many of his transcripts and papers in hand, proof of his achievements. He wanted to make a good impression today. It could set the path for a remarkable career, the only thing he ever wanted to do. So much of the FBI was wrapped up in politics and national cases, but the BAU seemed like a better fit for him. He wanted so much to help people, tracking down the most dangerous killers of the modern age using mostly mental strength seemed like a job most people couldn't do. It might just be perfect for him.
Spencer and his mentor rode up to the sixth floor. He kept adjusting his stack of papers, nervously tugging on his glasses. He often become fidgety when he was nervous… he was perspiring right through his clothes, his tie felt like it was choking him. Perhaps he should have dressed more relaxed today, he didn't want this agent to think he was flighty or irresponsible.
"Relax, Spencer," Connelly seemed to sense his discomfort. "It's not an interview, he just wants to talk to you, get to know you a little bit."
"Yes, sir," was all Spencer could think to say. He wanted to make a good impression, he had every reason to be nervous. Then again, a lot of things made him uneasy and tense. It was one thing when he was twelve, a short boy among monstrous teens, always looking to him with new plans to make his life miserable. He was seventeen now, he needed to start acting more like a man. Easier said then done, however, when you didn't have a father to show you the way.
The elevator dinged as the doors slid open on the sixth floor. Two large glass doors with the FBI seal and the title of the Behavioral Analysis Unit gleamed in black letters. There was quite a bit of activity inside. Spencer looked at them in awe. He wondered if all those men were agents. Not too many women, though. For someone who became clammy and shaking when speaking to the female kind, this job was sounding better and better.
Only two other people stood here in the hall. A tall man with blonde hair and a leather jacket conversing with a young girl, wearing a simple dress and curly black hair. Instinctively, he looked to the floor. He couldn't even make eye contact with a girl without feeling dizzy and nauseas, it was best to focus on his shoes. He hated dress shoes.
"Wait here," Connelly requested, going to the glass doors. "I want to speak to him first before you come in. Stay out of trouble."
He meant it as a joke, but Spencer didn't have the greatest grasp on sarcasm. "I will, sir," he simply said with a nod.
Stepping through the doors, Connelly went inside. Spencer focused on trying to breathe slowly. He needed to stay calm, but this was as frightening as his college interviews. At least his mother didn't have to be with him this time. That had been a traumatic experience, and she wasn't even as sick then as she was now.
His throat was dry, he needed some water. He took a risk and looked around the hall, but the man and girl weren't in sight. At the end of the corridor, he spotted the restrooms, two water fountains positioned on the other side. Quickly, he headed down there to get a quick drink, a difficult task with so many papers in his arms.
After struggling a moment, he managed to take a long drink. The water soothed his throat and he swallowed graciously, feeling a bit braver about this. He had known long ago that there was always going to be a responsibility on him. His intelligence was more a curse than a gift at times. Regardless, it was a cross he had to bear and Spencer would do it wholeheartedly.
He suspected Connelly would be back in a moment and Spencer turned to hurry back to the doors. He didn't realize someone had been standing so close. Spencer just had a moment to notice a wave of curly black hair before he smacked into the girl, sending them both to the floor.
"Oh, geez!" She exclaimed and Spencer was instantly mortified. His and her papers were jumbled in a pile, mixing together like moss on a stone.
"Oh, I'm sorry," He mumbled, spinning onto his knees to clean up the mess. "I… I didn't see you."
"It's alright," She said kindly, as if it were nothing at all. It was hard for her to squat down in her dress in order to gather her things, but she managed it. "Are you hurt?"
He couldn't even look at her. He could just hear her cruel laughter at his stupid mistake, it was imminent. His face was warm, unmistakably turning red. This was not what he needed right now.
"No," He barely uttered out, wishing she'd just hurry up and walk away. "You?"
"I'll live, don't worry." She teased and gave a giggle. Spencer cringed at first, but it didn't sound like she was making fun of him… more like just laughing at the situation. No, that never happened. Everyone his age made fun of him.
Maybe she was different. For the first time in his life, Spencer was actually considering talking voluntarily to a person his age… and a girl no less. Carefully, Spencer glanced at her, watching as she collected her things, checking over which papers were hers.
He never made it to her face, his eyes stopping as they landed on the skirt of her dress. The ruffles stopped in the middle of her thighs, leading down her nylon covered legs. He was mesmerized by them.
Spencer still thought of Alexa Lisbon from time to time. Despite everything she put him through, he still held such a torch for the most beautiful girl in the world… but right now, staring at those legs… Alexa had nothing on this girl.
"I think I got everything." She said, getting to her feet, allowing her long legs to lengthen before his eyes. Spencer realized he was gaping and turned back to his papers. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yes," He answered, nodding, picking up the disheveled pile and getting to his feet. "I'm really sorry."
Without another word, Spencer hurried back down the hall. She didn't call out for him or say goodbye. He felt so lightheaded by this girl and all he had seen was her legs… he felt like some kind of pervert.
He needed to see her face. Even if it were just once. He needed to know what this incredible girl looked like so he could remember her always.
As he turned, around, however, all he saw was the wisp of black curls going around the corner, being led away by two men. The one he'd seen before and another in a black suit and dark hair. Their voices faded around the corner and disappeared.
"Spencer," Connelly called, coming through the doors. Beside him was a man about the same age, with a kind face and wise eyes, holding an impression he had seen more than a human should ever see in a lifetime.
Spencer came over, nervous again. Connelly eyed his messy papers, but didn't say a word about them. "Jason, this is Spencer Reid, a grad student at Georgetown University. Spencer, this is the unit chief of the BAU, SSA Jason Gideon."
"Hello, Spencer," Gideon smiled, offering his hand. "I hear you're an exceptional young boy."
Clearing his throat, Spencer struggled to offer his hand. "Thank you… for meeting with me… Agent Gideon."
"It's my pleasure." He said kindly. "Why don't we go to my office, I've been looking forward to meeting you, young man."
Spencer took one last glance down the corridor, hopelessly hoping the girl would come back around. He thought he saw a flash of movement, but it was just his imagination. There was nothing, just an empty hallway and silence.
"What are you looking at?" Gideon asked.
"Nothing," Spencer shook his head, hiding his disappointment. He followed Connelly and Gideon into the BAU, leaving the memory behind forever. He'd never see that gorgeous girl again.
"Reid," Rossi called, grabbing his attention back. "You listening?"
"Yeah," He said quickly, coming back to the present. Clouds were still lolling overhead, the sun playing peekaboo with the earth below. Reid tossed his now empty soda cup into the trash going to join Rossi down the path, staring intently at something close to the water.
The old man lowered his voice. "Look," he pointed over to one of the benches where a young man, barely old enough to be out of college, sat. "Is it just my imagination… or does that guy look a bit familiar?"
Rossi wasn't mistaken. Reid knew immediately the man sitting there, tossing pieces of an old hot dog bun into the water, was not just any passerby in the park this Sunday afternoon… that was their unsub, Walter Lovejoy.
"Call Prentiss and Morgan, let them know we've tracked him down." Rossi said.
Quickly Reid, pulled out his phone. For once, he wished he was a bit more technologically savvy and was able to text at lightning speed like some of his friends. As fast as his pointer finger would allow, he typed in a message and sent it to Emily's phone, indicating they spotted Lovejoy and what street he was closest to. Closing his phone, he slipped it in his pocket.
"Should we… try and catch up with him?" Reid questioned.
"We're going to have to." Rossi explained. "He's getting ready to leave, look."
Lovejoy was getting out of his seat. As he stood, he watched happily for a moment as a few of the ducks dove under the water to fetch the stale bread he'd generously given them. The young man pulled on his baggy green coat, giving the impression of a homeless war veteran, and started casually walking in the opposite direction.
Exchanging a glance, Rossi and Reid swiftly began to walk over. Quickly, they were on his tail, trailing him to wherever his destination led.
He took a quick look over his shoulder, spotting the two agents. He paid them no mind for a moment, continuing on his casual way. A second time he looked, seeing the men were getting closer. He gave them a suspicious glare before picking up his pace.
"Walter Lovejoy?" Rossi called as they quickened their steps.
He stopped, and for a moment, both agents believed he was just going to give up. An immediate victory. Of course, they had to realize it wouldn't be so clean.
Without a glance or a word, Walter Lovejoy took off, dashing off the concrete path up the grassy mound, towards the street. Reid and Rossi ran after him, trying to keep up. Thank goodness Reid was in pretty good physical condition, he didn't get winded as quickly as his older partner.
If he made it to the street, Reid knew it would be harder to catch up to him. It would be nearly impossible with the cars and people walking about, enjoying the end of their weekend. Coming up over the hill, Lovejoy was dashing down the other side, the exit to the park just feet away.
A large SUV pulled around the corner and stopped, right in the middle of the road. Thankfully, the two who emerged were none other than Emily and Morgan, already joining the chase.
Reid had no chance to catch up to him before he made it out of the park, but Morgan did. Lovejoy collided with the burly man right on the sidewalk, tackling him to the ground.
"Where are you going?" He screamed, his fury coming out with his endurance. "Huh? Where are you running to?"
To all their surprise, Lovejoy didn't struggle or yell to be released, instead he rested the side of his head on the sidewalk, letting out a loud wail.
"I'm sorry," He cried. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt them!"
Emily was helping Morgan – who now looked a bit worse for wear – get Lovejoy to his feet. It wasn't easy, but they managed it. He hung his head, blubbering as Emily cuffed him.
They had begun to draw a large crowd, but the agents paid them no mind. Reid and Rossi caught up to the group, seeing the pathetic man sobbing almost hysterically.
"Walter Lovejoy," Emily cried, trying to get his attention, needing to read him his rights.
"Please, I'm so sorry… please believe me, I didn't mean it!" He cried, his whole body was weak and shaking.
Reid had an idea. He got down to his level, trying to look him in the eye. "Wallie… Wallie, look at me."
Between sobbing and stuttering breaths, he looked up to see him, watching him carefully. "You admit that you killed those boys?"
"I didn't mean it," He cried, shaking his head. "I was just trying to save my brother! No one will save him but me!"
This was a lot more intense than just some man needing to relive a death over and over. Rossi took a deep breath, taking charge. "I'll call Hotch and tell him we have our unsub in custody. Take him back to the station, wait for him to calm down before starting to interrogate him."
"We don't have time to wait." Morgan cried, still trying to catch his breath. "If Peter Hillman's still alive, we have to know where he is now."
Rossi didn't know how to answer that. As he looked at Reid, however, he told him everything with just his eyes and the young genius agreed wholeheartedly. Yes, they had their unsub, and now they might be able to bring justice to all those lost boys… but he wasn't in his right mind. He might be unable, or unwilling, to tell them where Peter was. Without his help, they couldn't find him.