Chapter 9
Gideon, Hotch, Reid and Morgan practically ran to the mail room in the basement of the headquarters. They were met by an elderly man at the desk. "May I help you?" he asked in a bored tone.
"I'm Agent Gideon, and I need some information out of you," Gideon said, flashing his badge.
"I don't have time…" the old man began.
"Neither do we!" interjected Hotch impatiently. "This is an emergency!" Hotch leaned over the old man's desk, with his nose inching closer to the other man's. "And if you want to be responsible for the death of another agent, you'll help us. Now."
That grabbed the old man's attention. "What can I do for you?" he asked.
"I need to know who was working yesterday morning."
The old man searched his records. "How early?" he asked.
"Seven-thirty," Morgan replied, growing more impatient by the minute.
"I had three employees yesterday morning here. Kevin Marsley, Paul Folger, and Robert Eisley."
"Do you have pictures?"
The old man sighed and pulled out three files. He handed them to Gideon, who handed one to Hotch and one to Morgan.
Hotch flipped through his file. "No, it's not Folger. He's married with three kids."
Morgan flipped through his. "And it's not Marsley. He's only eighteen years old."
Gideon stared at his and wordlessly handed it to Hotch. Hotch's mouth fell open when he saw the picture. "My God," he breathed and handed it to Morgan and Reid.
"A face like that would certainly fit the profile," Gideon said.
"Looks like he was burned by acid or something," Reid said, his face showing his horror.
Hotch pulled out a notepad and wrote down the address. He tossed the files back to the old man, and the four agentsdashed out the door. "Thanks!" Reid yelled over his shoulder.
"Hey!" the man yelled. "Who's gonna clean this up?" He surveyed the mess on his desk and the floor. "Oh, crap," he muttered and got to work.