Chapter three: the witness
The sheriffs office is filled to the brim with enforcers, paperwork, and most of all, intrigue. Senoia is a small, rather local town, and the first news of a gang of supposedly dangerous individuals scouting the edges of town spread like wildfire. A gaggle of phones ringing keep an almost constant thrum of noise in the background of police chatter and the rustling of paper, the scratching of pens, and the faint whir of the near ancient coffee machine.
"No, I understand the concern ma'am, however I cannot disclose any information as of right now. However I can assure you we have it under control and the suspected individuals have been brought into custody."
"Well I'd sure hope ya'll do. I have children, what am I supposed to do here?"
"Everything is under control ma'am. If you want a suggestion, try to stay indoors-"
"Uhm, excuse me?"
The receptionist turns while using her shoulder to press the landline to her ear, mildly frustrated. "One moment please- No, no, not you ma'am, I was speaking to somebody else, no, yes, I understand-"
Laura Bennies is a shy, reserved type of woman. When a stressed out receptionist glares at her, however minimally, she second guesses most of her life choices that have led her up to this moment.
The constant thrum of the sheriff's department sends Laura's already frayed nerves springing, and she chews the edge of her thumb nervously, glancing here and there. They all seem awfully busy… maybe she should come back another time..
"'Scuse me." Laura jumps in surprise, watching mutely as a tense, slightly sweaty looking man in a ruffled looking jumper side-steps her with a tense smile and walks straight up to reception, tapping his fingers restlessly over the wood table top. "'Scuse me, ma'am, I'm-"
"Sir," The receptionist sighs, looking exasperated, moving the receiver away from her mouth. "One moment please."
"I know, I can see you're busy-" The man sighs through his nose as the receptionist merely sends him a slightly frustrated glance, raising a single finger up and replacing the phone to her ear. "Seriously?" He mutters under his breath.
Laura shuffles unsurely, sending the somewhat irate man a none-too subtle glance as she takes a little step back. They really do seem busy today…
"Soo, ah, what are you in for?" Laura jumps again, looking up with wide eyes and the man grimaces a bit, wiping at the back of his neck. "Sorry, didn't mean… that was a stupid joke." He smiles weakly, bags dark beneath his eyes.
"Uhm, no, no I'm sorry," Laura laughs a little awkwardly, glancing around for the person this man surely must be talking to. Nobody but a passing sheriff's deputy walking by pays them any mind other than a passing glance.
"Err, I'm.." Laura pauses under the man's patient curiosity, chewing her lip as she glances down at her scuffed flats, recalling exactly why she had come to the police department in the first place. "Well…"
The dim click of the phone landing on the receiver snaps her head back up, heart leaping in her throat.
"Sorry 'bout that sir, things are a bit crazy here today, as you can see.." The receptionist smiles tightly, releasing a little breath. The man turns away from Laura to face the receptionist with a grimacing smile of his own.
"Yeah, yeah, I can."
"How can I help you?"
Laura awkwardly shuffles her feet, chewing at her thumb again as her presence is dismissed. She glances over her shoulder towards the exit, contemplating.
"Well, I was asked to come down by Sheriff Forbes.." The man explains, if a tad uncomfortably.
"Oh!" The receptionist suddenly perks up, gathering Laura's attention once more. The woman suddenly looks intrigued, giving the man a sympathetic, curious smile. "Of course, sorry about that- Jim right?"
"Uh- yeah, yeah, Jim Goe."
"Alright. Let me go grab the sheriff for you."
"Thank you."
Laura watches the receptionist walk off belatedly, sighing a little to herself. "Your insurance not cover that?"
Laura jerks her head back towards the man, and he's turned around to face her once again. When he realizes he has her attention again, he nods his chin towards her face, rubbing his hands together absently.
"What?" She's genuinely confused, doubting herself whether he had actually spoken or not.
"Your glasses." Jim smiles faintly, releasing a sigh through his nose. "Sorry, I keep bothering you, miss, guess I'm just a bit bundled with nerves at the moment.."
"Oh, no, it's fine," Laura laughs nervously herself, glancing around self-consciously. "I understand, I uh, just broke them today actually." She swallows, adjusting the thin wire band slightly.
"That right? That's a shame, sorry to hear that."
"Oh, t-that's fine, I mean, thanks," Laura responds hesitantly, slightly surprised. Wow, he's pretty. Pretty nice! Laura nearly blanches at her thoughts. He's just a nice man, that's all. That's it.
"Jim Goe?" Jim's light smile falls a bit as they both turn. The receptionist is returning with who Laura recognizes to be sheriff Forbes and another stern looking man she doesn't recognize. The sheriff smiles a bit grimly, offering her hand to shake.
"Yeah, that's me. Y'all said you wanted to talk, go over my statement again.." Jim shakes the woman's hand, before shaking the unknown man's as he introduces himself.
"Nice to meet you Jim, I am SS Aaron Hotchner, one of the F.B.I agents working on this case. Would you mind speaking with us in a more private location?"
Jim sounds a bit surprised, glancing between the two of them. "Oh, ah, no, not at all.."
F.B.I? Laura wonders, chewing at her lip. That sounds serious…
"Ma'am?" Laura jumps, turning her attention back towards the receptionist, who is once again sat behind her desk. "Can I help you with something?"
"Um, well," Laura sends one last glance towards the retreating back of Jim, the sheriff, and the agent, before shaking her head slightly and taking a step closer to the desk. She swallows with unease. "Yes, I um, uh,"
The phone rings abruptly, causing her to jump. The receptionist sighs, shaking her head with pursed lips. "I am terribly sorry, you mind if I get this first? It won't take a moment."
"Oh, um, sure," Laura twiddles with her sleeves, heart thrashing as the woman behind the desk picks up the phone with a sweet, "County sheriff's office, how may I assist you?"
Laura chews at her lip, staring off in the direction Jim had vanished off to. What's the F.B.I doing in Senoia? She pauses a bit at her next thought, goosebumps trailing up her arms. Has it got something to do with the rumors going on around town?
"Ma'am?" Laura jerks her thumb from her mouth, staring at the receptionist, a little freaked out, not that the woman appears to notice. "This might take a minute, why don't you find yourself a seat and I'll be right with you."
"Oh," Laura licks her chapped lips, nodding her head hesitantly as the receptionist turns back towards her computer screen, focusing back onto the phone conversation. "Okay.."
"So, ah, what's this all about?" Jim Goe is a rather unassuming, approximately 5'8 man with a full head of shaggy brown hair. His dark eyebags suggest a history of sleeping problems, and his constant fidgeting is a clear indicator of his nerves. "I'm not in trouble for anything now, am I?"
"No, not at all." Hotch immediately reassures, gesturing for the man to take a seat in one of the chairs within the department's cleared out debriefing room. "I just wanted to speak with you myself to clarify some things, of course, if you aren't comfortable doing so, you're more than welcome to call for legal assistance."
"Well," Jim sighs a bit, shrugging his shoulders weakly and sitting a bit stiffly. "I mean, I don't have anything different to say than what I already told the deputies this morning.."
"And that's completely fine," Hotch takes a seat of his own, dismissing the sheriff with a nod of his head. Jim glances at the woman departing distractedly before refocusing his attention onto the serious agent. "You're our only witness that we know of, so anything you have to offer is valuable information. It is just a part of our protocol to go over witness statements again."
"Okay then," Jim sighs, tapping his jean clad knees anxiously. "What do you need to know?"
"Let's start from the beginning," Hotch pulls out a notepad and pen from the inside of his blazer, placing them onto the table and clasping his hands together. "Don't worry about contradicting your earlier statement, just tell me everything as if this is the first time you're telling it."
"Okay, well, I was driving up the I-50 into town when I got the little blinker light on my dash for low air pressure in my tire, so I pulled over to the side of the road. Got out and uh, kicked the tire, I was a bit frustrated 'cause uh, that tire was my only spare so.."
Hotch nods to reassure the man to continue, jotting down a few things onto the notepad. "Got out my phone to call roadside assistance when I heard some branches snapping. I thought it was just an animal you know, but I still turned on instinct and that's when the group, uh, came out of the brush lining the road there."
"Can you tell me the order they came out in, and their overall demeanor?"
"Yeah, think so, um, it was the man with that crossbow first, really freaked me out 'cause he was pointing it right at me, lookin' real sketchy," Jim laughs a bit uncomfortably, rubbing a finger with his thumb in a gesture of self comfort. "He didn't say nothing but he moved, stalked really, real, I don't know, almost professionally? If that makes sense."
"Can you try to explain a little more what you mean by that?"
Jim rubs at his chin, a thoughtful expression adorning his face. "Just ah, like he's used to pointing a crossbow at people? You know, he moved a bit like a cop, glancing all around the area, probably to see if there was anybody else other than me."
Hotch nods, the corner of his lip tipping down an inch further. "Alright. Who came out next?"
"Well, the rest followed practically right on his heels, the whole group of them, really surprised me you know, because they were all covered in dirt and," Jim stutters a bit at this part, seeming a bit sick if not confused. "Well, blood I think."
Jim continues after a second to collect himself, shaking his head slightly. "They were all pointing guns at me so I, uh, kinda panicked and wasn't paying the best attention I could have. I dropped my phone and held my hands up and started saying something but I can't remember what exactly. Then the guy, the one with the brown beard, asked me if I was alone. I said I was and he told me to 'back away from the vehicle', I did of course, 'cause I'm not going to dismiss a guy holding a gun to my face. I told them they could take my wallet but just, uh please don't kill me. He told me to shut up and frisked me, I guess thinking I had a gun or something myself."
"How did he frisk you?" Hotch looks up from the notepad, intrigued.
"Well, he used one hand, keeping the gun on me with the other, and looked in my eyes the whole time too. Felt a lot like that one time when I was a kid, I got picked up by the cops for underage drinking with some friends and it was kind of like that, kicked my legs apart and everything."
"What happened after he frisked you?"
Jim shrugged, looking a bit baffled himself. "Well uh, the one guy, of um, some sort of asian descent, announced the tire was flat and they all kind of backed off then. Guess they were just hoping to steal my ride, 'cause as soon as they figured that out they left, didn't take my wallet or anything. Though not before threatening to kill me if I followed them. Kept their eyes on me the entire time as they crossed the road and disappeared back into the brush."
Hotch nods in encouragement, jotting down a few last notes before looking back up at Jim and questioning, "Is that everything you remember?"
"Yeah, all that I can remember at least. So um, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course." Hotch looks up from closing the notepad and pocketing it back into his jacket.
"Are the rumors going on around town true?"
Hotch frowns a little bit. "You'll have to be more specific."
"You know, about one of the people you brought into custody being a kid and all.." Jim's eyebrows are furrowed, and he gnaws at his lip. "'Cause I guess I had noticed one of them being sort of shorter than the others, but I was a bit distracted staring at the gun in my face so, I wasn't really sure.."
"I apologize but at this stage I can't release any information." Hotch smiles a little, and it's an apologetic one. "I appreciate you coming in to speak with me Jim, even if it was just to repeat the same statement. It may not seem like it now but you coming forward has greatly helped us."
"Of course, just uh, let me know if there's anything else I can do for you guys," Jim follows Hotch's lead and stands from his seat, accepting the offered handshake and shaking it much more strongly than when they had first been introduced to one another.
"Ma'am?" Laura does not jump this time, but it is a near thing. She turns her gaze back towards the front desk, and the receptionist sits back down once she notices her attention has been caught. "Sorry about the wait."
"Oh, no, it's fine," Laura quickly stands from the wooden bench, hastily walking up to the desk. She glances towards the tabletop before attempting to meet the woman's eyes. "I see you're all real busy, so…"
"Yeah," The receptionist laughs a little, seemingly a bit less intense than earlier, much to the internal relief of Laura. "So how can I help you?"
"Well, you see," Laura swallows, working up the courage to finally say what's been on the tip of her tongue this whole time. "I think I may have, um, run into one of those people.."
The receptionist raises her perfectly plucked eyebrow a tad, confusion clear on her face. "..'Those people'..? I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Those people, that y'all brought in earlier…" Laura swallows, toying at her fingers. "I think I ran into one of them earlier today, well, more like he ran to me.."
"Oh." The receptionist responds somewhat faintly, surprised. "You think so? What makes you think that ma'am?"
"Well," Laura thinks back to the interaction, sucking in a breath. "He was, um, covered in blood, I think."
"Can I ask when this was?" The woman's eyes are wide, with fascination or something else Laura can't really discern.
"I'd say around… four hours ago?" Laura chews her lip nervously as the woman only stares for a moment, before a panicked look flashes across her expression. "Um. Or was it three, maybe?"
The pen still idly clutched in the receptionist's hand drops to the tabletop with a dull thud.