JJ braced herself as she answered the phone. All she wanted was to hear that Reid was okay, that he was on the way back with the others or on the way to the hospital. But good or bad, she couldn't let herself get emotional. Letting out a slow breath, she forced all her hopes and expectations into the pit of her stomach. Alone now, she answered, "JJ."
"How's it going there?" Hotch asked. She knew that tone all too well, and he wasn't pleased with the results of the investigation.
"About what you'd expect. Riley's a mess and there's nothing any of us can do, so we're on edge." JJ explained. "Did you guys find anything?"
"There's not much evidence." He informed. "It was definitely self inflicted, as the voicemail implied. The passenger side has the most damage."
"So Reid's definitely going to need some medical help." She specified.
Hotch replied. "I'd say so if I had to make an educated guess, although there doesn't appear to be any blood inside the car. Whatever injuries he has, at least he's not bleeding profusely." There was a pause as he considered what else they found. "The phone was destroyed, as we thought. There are pieces of it on the seat, probably when he climbed out."
"Is that all, sir?" JJ wondered, begging for something more. She felt like a child on Christmas, just making sure there were no more presents to open.
He hesitated. Even over the phone, JJ could tell he was holding something back. "There was... one more thing, but I'm not sure it's anything important."
"What?" She questioned desperately.
"A ring of keys." He explained. "There's a lot on here, kind of like a janitor's set, though not as big. They must belong to Bridget."
"What does she need with so many keys?" She asked, curious.
"My assumption would be in order to get into all the hotels and rooms without breaking and entering." The jingle in the background told her Hotch was looking at the set as he spoke. "There's a skeleton key on here, at least twenty brass keys, and a rusty silver one."
He was right. It didn't provide any help. JJ leaned against the wall in the corridor, trying to think. "What's our next move, sir?"
"The three of us are going to search the area. If Reid's badly hurt, she can't have taken him far." He paused again, continuing in a very reserved tone. "I wish there was more I could tell you, but..."
"I know," JJ finished. "Call us if you find anything."
"Have Garcia to look into Bridget's medical history." He requested.
Confused, "I thought we already looked into her history?"
"Tell her to check family history this time, go back as far as her fourth or fifth generation for diseases she's predisposed to. A female serial killer is likely to suffer from a severe mental illness. It's possible she's suffering from an undiagnosed one."
"Yes, sir." JJ complied. "We'll be waiting."
At that, Hotch hung up the phone. She waited a moment before going back to the others. With nothing to tell, she knew her return would not be well reprieved. It wasn't going to go away, though, and had to get it over with. JJ made a slow journey back to the conference room, both girls sitting up at attention as she entered.
Riley's big, hopeful eyes made her want to weep. JJ shook her head, "Nothing yet," was all she said.
Crushed, Riley's lip tremble as she felt herself about to break down. "I can't take this," She uttered, getting to her feet. She hurried to grab her purse and coat.
"Where are you going?" Garcia cried, worried.
"I can't handle this." She groaned, searching through her bag. She whipped out her cigarettes and lighter. "I just need to step out for a few minutes."
Garcia immediately ran over, attempting to stop her from falling to such a vice. "Sweetie, you don't want to do that. I know it's hard, but this isn't healthy. You need to be strong."
"I'm not in the mood for a lecture." Riley sneered. "If you want to criticize my life habits on a normal day, that's fine, but while my husband is missing and hurt, you don't get to say a word."
She had a point. Garcia reached over and brushed her arm. She could save the talk on cancer and black lung disease for when Reid was safe at home. "Do you want some company?"
There was a time when Riley would have said no. A time that hadn't been that long ago. But Riley had changed a lot and found she not only needed the company of people who cared for her, she preferred it.
"I would, thank you." She nodded, folding her coat over her shoulder. Garcia followed her out of the room, JJ bringing up the rear.
"My legs feel like jelly." Sarah muttered as she stood on her own feet.
Reid knew the feeling. "I imagine with that cut, it's not better."
"That was pretty brilliant," She informed, patting her arm. "I'm glad you talked me into doing it. It hurts but... I know it was worth it."
"We'll be out of here soon," He said, climbing onto the crates. He wasn't sure if it was his legs or the boxes that made him feel so unsteady. Still, though, this was their only chance. Slowly, he straightened himself, balancing himself as much as possible. The hatch was just over his head, he barely had to stretch his arm to take the handle. Success.
Not quite. The handle was more damaged than it appeared. The oxidation on the metal had melded the parts together and after so much time in the same position, it seemed immobile. Mustering all his strength and energy, Reid tugged and shoved at the handle, desperate for it to release. It was incredibly frustrating, working and fighting and having no results. Reid couldn't give up. It had to move, this door had to open. It was the only way out.
At last, he gave up. His hands dropped and he let out the breath he'd been holding. "Damn," He whispered.
Sarah was practically panicked. "You can't open it?"
"Not by myself." He began to climb down from the crates. "But, if I could apply more force to the object, I could propel it out of it's position."
She stood, bewildered for a second like Reid was speaking Russian. "What?"
"I need to hit it with something." He explained. Back on the concrete, he quickly searched the room. Reid had to be fast, they were wasting time.
One one side of the room, he spotted a long black sledge hammer. It was perfect; with that Reid, was certain to unfasten the handle with one or two swings. That was the problem. He didn't have the ability to lift anything like that. Trying not to get discouraged, he continued his search.
Thinking back to his earlier search of the basement, he remembered the tupperware box of tools. Perhaps there was something in there. Quickly he hurried over, ripping the box back down. The metal chimed and clanged as he dug through the instruments, careful not to cut his hand.
Sarah was getting steadily nervous as Reid finally rushed back over. "What is that?" She asked, uncertain this medieval looking item would work.
"A rib spreader." Reid muttered, returning to the top of the stack. "The coroner uses them during an autopsy."
As he stood, he caught the frigthened expression on Sarah's face. He realized she hadn't known what the place was connected to. "I guess I should tell you... we're in the basement of the city morgue."
She closed her eyes as she let that news sink in. "Could this day get any worse?"
"Trust me," Reid informed as he straightened his aching form, "it can."
He took another deep breath, at the same time hoping they had at least another few minutes. He pulled back the tool and, with everything in him, banged the tool on the handle.
It didn't appear to make any difference, but Reid could feel the handle shift ever so slightly from it's position. He could do this, he was going to get them out of here. Rejuvenated, he took more power than he thought he had in him at the moment and banged on the handle, over and over and over.
Each strike made more and more progress, soon showing the handle shift further out of place. Sarah shrieked lightly with delight, seeing freedom get further and further into their grasp. With a few more good hits, the handle loosened enough to release itself. It took Reid by surprise, unable to stop the momentum in his arm before swinging again. Just as the door popped open and released a pile of gathered dust all around them, Reid lost his balance, tumbling to the floor.
"Dr. Reid!" Sarah exclaimed hurrying to his side. "Are you okay?"
He quickly got to his feet. He didn't have time to wallow in this new added pain. "Yeah, come on. We've got to restack these."
She obeyed, rushing to help get the crates back into place. Reid was shaking from putting his body through such an exertion and suffering such a fall. His whole body was covered in sweat and dirt. He felt so unbelieveably sick, it was surreal.
He looked up into the hole. It disappeared into darkness, but a ladder was built into the concrete wall. They may not know where it lead, but it had to be better than here.
"Come on," Reid called, offering his hand to Sarah. She grasped it, stepping up. Without a second thought about her modesty, he mustered his strength and clutched her hips. Reid heaved her into the air, lifting her into the hole. "Grab onto closest bar and pull herself up to the next one. I'll help you climb until your steady and then I need you to go up so I can follow."
"Alright," Sarah hissed, trying to breathe. Even this was a bit too strenuous for her. She reached up and wrapped her hand around the bar, pulling up enough to grab the next one. She paused for a moment before going up to the third. Reid urged himself to keep up. His body was shaking, desperate to let the extra weight go.
Before she moved again, Reid felt his heart stop. The sound a lock echoed through the space followed by the door behind opened. Reid looked over the shelves to see light spilling in, much darker than it was before. He learned two things. The sun was almost set and Bridget had returned.
"Sarah, she's back! You need to move!" Reid rasped.
At that, Sarah kept climbing. Her body bit by bit slipped from his grasp. He supported her feet until at last, she lifted one onto the ladder and then the other.
Looking down, her strawberry blonde hair fell around her. "Hurry, come on."
A heavy gasp was heard, and Reid shook his head. "Go, you need to get out of here." He ordered.
"No, you have to come!" Sarah said, beginning to cry. "Dr. Reid, she's going to kill you."
And that was for certain. "It's too late, even if I get up there in quickly, she'll be right behind us. You'll only get away on your own."
"Dr. Reid..." She sobbed. "You can't do this, you can't let her win!"
He didn't intend to just give into his killer, but his chances of surviving were nonexistent. "Just tell my wife I love her and I'm sorry." Reid requested.
"No!" Sarah screamed as she watched him swing the hatch upward. It slammed into place and fastened the handle. It wasn't secured more than a second before Reid was claimed by gravity once again. Solid footing vanished from him as the crates were kicked out from under him by Bridget in her furious rage.