Bad Memories Ch. 07
The BAU team trickled into the round table room, each with a sense of tired hurriedness. They hadn't had very much time to gather themselves after Anderson's going away party, only getting a few hours of sleep. Reid made awkward eye contact with Emily and JJ as they took their respective seats. Garcia began,
"Okay, we've got three bodies over the course of four weeks. The first was 33 year old Natalie Powell, then 19 year old Tyler Navarro, and found two days ago we have 51 year old Anthony Albrecht. All three were found with defensive wounds and ligature marks around their wrists. Cause of death is consistent, they all died from narcotic overdoses." Reid shifted uncomfortably in his seat - of course the case had to be narcotics-related. This movement didn't go unnoticed by their unit chief.
"Were the victims users?" Luke asked, unaware of the tension in the air between the teammates who remember the Hankel case. Garcia reviews the info on her tablet to explain,
"They used to be. Our three vics had been in recovery and their families all attest they weren't a part of any drug or party scene. As it turns out, each victim was killed by a large dose of the drug they used to abuse." Rossi's curiosity was piqued,
"That M.O. is highly specific. Typically in cases when the cause of death involves narcotics, it's to subdue the victim or make them more comfortable. With their history of drug use, maybe he was trying to ease their pain?" Reid was quick to counter,
"Or torture them". The looks he received from his team spawned a follow-up, "If these people were in recovery, administering their drug of choice would not only be a form of physical torture, but psychological torture as well. Time spent sober for a former addict is like a badge of honor and having that stolen from you is devastating." He thought of the shame and anger he felt after being dosed by Lindsey in Mexico. Tara jumped in, confirming Reid's sentiment. Since she's seen addiction at work up and close given her ex-husband's alcoholism, she adds,
"Reid's right. This unsub must have some axe to grind with people who have overcome their addictions. Perhaps he's an addict himself and is jealous of their success in the program?" Emily stood, signaling it's time to pack up,
"We can theorize on the jet - wheels up in 15". Everyone gathered their belongings and meandered out into the bullpen. Before Reid had made it completely out of the room, JJ called out to him,
"Spence?", he stopped, turning to look at her, "I know this case is–" Reid interjected,
"JJ. I'm not talking about this with you. Not now, anyway." Emily was peering at them from the catwalk leading to her office. Though she couldn't hear what they were saying, she understood what had happened. JJ nodded with a weak, "okay" and they made their way to the elevator.
The investigation was rough. In two days they had no leads but they did have a fourth victim, Samantha Rhodes. Luke and Reid were closest to the dumpsite when the call came in that a body was discovered. Reid inspected the ligature marks on her wrists, noting how the bruising indicated she'd been held for over 24 hours. His eyes traveled up to the crook of her elbow where another angry bruise had formed around an angrier puncture would that stood out against the almost completely faded scars of her past substance abuse that also littered her skin. Reid didn't hear the first few times Luke had called his name,
"Reid?" Luke said timidly, placing a gentle hand on his colleague's shoulder to get his attention. Reid flinched, coming out of his trance,
"Sorry, I didn't hear you," Luke looked at him with concern, knowing there had been something wrong with the younger agent since they first landed.
"Are you okay?" Luke asked,
"Yeah, yeah I'm good," Reid assured. Luke seemed unwilling to accept this as an answer
"Okay, well CSI found some fibers that they're running back to the lab to see if we get a hit. They're going to bag her up and take her in for an autopsy - run a tox screen and everything, so we should head on back to the station," Reid nodded and they made their way to the SUV. The rest of the day proved to be unproductive and they weren't any closer to solving the case. In the hotel room that night, Reid laid awake thinking about Samantha Rhodes and the fear that she must have felt. He remembered that terror he felt when the police chief in Matamoros told him they'd found cocaine and heroin in his system. Though he tried not to show it to Matt and Emily at the time, his heart had been shattered. His 5 year clean streak at that point had ended and he was starting over. Though he hadn't used voluntarily, the desire he felt afterwards made him feel like this slip wasn't negligible and he was truly back at square one. It took everything he had not to sample the heroin he was tasked with moving through the laundry room. He'd come up with the plan to poison the supply 1. to protect himself from his fellow inmates and 2. to protect himself from impulses he couldn't control. He felt an overwhelming sense of shame when he attended his first meeting only a few weeks after getting out of prison and having to tell his sponsor as well as the rest of the meeting's attendees that he was only 3 and a half months clean and struggling to stay that way. He was now 11 months clean and a one year medallion was back in his sights. He missed having it as an anchor to ground him when he felt that familiar yet unwelcome tremble. He kept telling himself that once he go his year, these feelings would go away and he'd regain the confidence he once had in himself, but that wasn't really true. Mexico taught him that he was and always will be one day away from self-destruction. I suppose, he thought, that's why we take them one at a time.
The next day Samantha's tox screen came back. The Chillicothe police chief Prescott assisting with the case read the report,
"Rhodes tested positive for opioids - Dilaudid to be specific," Spencer froze for only a second, processing this information. He thought, this could not get any worse, "and we've got a match on those fibers from the dumpsite yesterday. Arthur Lawrence - 36, worked in a methadone clinic until getting fired for skimming pills 2 months ago." Tara noted,
"There's your stressor," Rossi followed,
"Sounds like we should pay this guy a visit," Emily was already on the phone with Garcia,
"PG, we've got a name. Arthur Lawrence - send us any address you have ASAP." Rossi, Matt, and Tara filed into one SUV headed toward Lawrence's home address while Emily, Luke, and Spencer hopped into another headed towards a property that used to be a plant nursery owned by Lawrence's late mother and step-father. Rossi got not response when he knocked on Lawrence's front door and a neighbor confirmed he had left his residence a few hours prior. He notifies his unit chief,
"House was empty - check the nursery, but our guy could be anywhere," Emily responded,
"Roger that," and told Luke to hurry. A truck they knew to belong to Arthur was parked askew around the back of the facility. Luke called for back up and scoped out the perimeter - noting an entry point on the south facing wall. The three proceeded into the building, knowing the rest of the team was on the way. They waiting to have visual on Lawrence before calling his name so as to not scare him off. They heard muffled sobs coming from around a corner as they crept inside,
"Please, man, don't do this, please.." Reid saw they were the pleadings of a young man, probably mid-twenties, bound to a chair. Lawrence entered with a syringe and positioned it atop vein on the young man's arm. Reid raised his weapon and stated,
"Arthur Lawrence, FBI, put the needle down," Lawrence spun around seeing the agents corner him. There was an attempt to talk him down, a failed attempt that resulted in the syringe injecting a fraction of its contents into the would be fifth victim before a shot rang out dropping Arthur Lawrence to the ground. Reid approached the young man, now in a daze - partly from the commotion but more so from the dose of fentanyl he'd been given. Reid worked to untie the man from the chair while reassuring him,
"We're gonna get you out of here. You're safe, you're going to be okay," once finally realizing the agent was talking to him the man began to mumble,
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I tried to get him to stop, but…" Reid's heart broke for the man. He reminded him so much of himself at age 25 when he was so helpless to the trauma inflicted on him at the hands of Tobias and his other personalities. He consoled, saying the things he'd wished someone had said to him all those years ago,
"Hey, it's not your fault. We're going to get you some help and you're going to be fine, okay?" The man made eye contact with Reid for the first time and nodded.
The man, whose name turned out to be Wyatt Barnes, was taken back to the station to provide a statement to the police. He was a 25 year-old graduate student working on his Masters in psychology. Reid insisted on being the one to take his statement. Lawrence had been canvasing NA meetings to find his targets and he'd blitz attacked Wyatt in the parking lot of a community center earlier that morning. He learned that Wyatt had grown up in the foster care system, began drinking at a young age and escalated to taking pills and eventually stronger injectables before landing himself in rehab after an overdose when he was 19. He routinely attended NA meetings whilst completing his GED, undergrad, and the first two years of his graduate program - he wanted to be a substance abuse counselor.
"Six years clean, that's amazing," Reid told Wyatt who responded with a disheartened laugh,
"Yeah, well I guess that's over now,"
Emily couldn't help but look on from the other side of the one-way mirror. Wyatt reminded her so much of Reid when she first joined the BAU. He was tall and scrawny. He had hair slightly darker than Reid's and it was wavier than Reid's which naturally curled at the ends, but his horn-rimmed glasses and the dark circles under his eyes made the comparison impossible to ignore.
"The actions of this sociopath do nothing to diminish the hard work you've put in to maintaining your sobriety for the last six years," Reid told Wyatt, who averted his gaze, unable to bear the shame he'd felt since sobering completely from the day's events,
"If I had relapsed on my own, I could accept that and take responsibility and move on, but this is just…" Reid finished for him,
"It's not fair, I know. Believe me, I know." Wyatt looked at him with a discerning gaze. The tired yet empathetic face looking back at him confirmed a suspicion he'd held since meeting the doctor. Reid continued,
"But, by not trying to get that six years back, and adding to it, you're letting him win. Arthur Lawrence wanted to destroy those who could do what he didn't think he could. He wanted you to fail; he wanted you to stop trying. Don't. This is a never-ending battle. You don't win, you just fend it off a little more and more, and sometimes you make up a lot of ground and it doesn't feel so hopeless, but sometimes it creeps back up and it's knocking at your door again. That's all this is. You've lost some ground, but you can get it back." Wyatt thought on that for a moment before asking,
"Is that what you're doing? Making up lost ground?" Reid sighed and nodded.
Reid had given Wyatt his card in case he needed to talk. The team boarded the jet and headed back to D.C. Spencer was sat away from the rest of the team, occupied with reading - or rather just staring at the pages. Emily made her way into the empty seat across from him, reminding Reid of how she did the same thing after her return from the dead to convince him to attend Rossi's cooking lesson.
"You did a really good job with Wyatt," Emily said, keeping her voice low so as to not wake the sleeping members of the BAU a few chairs over, "I think he's gonna be okay." Reid smiled meekly,
"Yeah, I hope so," Emily took a deep breath, momentarily glancing out into the night sky through the window next to them,
"And I know you will be," She smiled at her friend, he smiled back,
"Yeah, me too."
