Author's Note: If you recognize it, it still isn't mine. And a lot of what you don't recognize isn't mine, either.
Author's Note 2: Lucifer is probably pretty cold by now… a new story started, and an update on this one, all within 24 hours?
Previously, in "Criminal Minds: The Prodigal":
He set the wine down untasted, and sighed. There was no avoiding this, no matter how hard he tried. He dialed a too-familiar number and waited while the connection was made, then waited with a racing heart through one, two, thr-
"Hotchner."
"Aaron, if I work with you on this, behind the scenes, will it get you out of my backyard sooner?" He heard the intake of breath on the other end of the line, then what must have been a chair scraping across the floor. A muffled explanation of taking this in another room, and a more muffled grunt from someone – Derek? Phillips? – as he waited for a response.
"Isaac? Is that you? What do you mean, if you work with us behind the scenes?"
"Not all of you, just you. The longer you're here, the more likely it is that I'm going to be found out, so I want you gone. I want Isaac back, I want Jason gone." He watched as the cat glanced over at him warily then went back to eating. The silence on the phone line lengthened, and he pulled the handset away from his ear to make sure it was still connected.
"We actually think we've found the trigger. Derek was over in Mariposa this morning and saw coverage of the Gold Creek fire. You realize it was started by the hot tailpipe of an SUV parked at a trailhead? The guy with the SUV fits the profile of all our victims, and all but one of the deaths have been since that fire."
"I know about that fire. It was touch and go whether the camp would be evacuated or not. " Gideon paused for thought. "That fits with what I was thinking. Your Unsub is protecting the environment, isn't he? He's targeting leisure in-comers with SUVs. Are the kills geographically limited because he's limited to a certain geography, or because there's something he's defending?" Even as he spoke, he felt the tug of the old excitement. He knew they were getting somewhere and the pieces were starting to fit.
"We don't know, it could be either one, but yes, we think he's protecting the environment." Hotchner paused, and Gideon heard him sigh. "So how are you suggesting this would work, with you behind the scenes?"
"I know the people, I know the area. Maybe not as well as Phillips, but then again he's in Oakhurst, I'm out here, closer to where the killings have been, right? Isn't that why he's looking at me in the first place? We could keep in contact like this, off book, I can give you my read that maybe he won't have."
"And how do I explain all of this insider knowledge suddenly? At least, how do I explain it to Morgan? Phillips would figure it out in about ten seconds, but Morgan would just know something was off."
"Good question. I don't know." It was his turn to sigh. The little cat suddenly stood up from its bowl, licking its chops and gazing at him, before turning tail and disappearing back around the corner of the house. He made a mental note to build a little cabin for it to help it get through the winter. Some of the offcuts lying around, and some of the hay from the barn should do for insulation, but where could he put the cabin to best protect it from the weather?
"Well, we still don't know what's been going on in Tuolomne County, Penelope said their database is, I think her words were 'utterly borked', and it's going to need more digging to see if there are any linked cases. I can send Morgan over there tomorrow, and Phillips and I can come back out and talk – no, I know you don't want him to know you're involved, but he's going to know the minute I start talking about people I've never met before, and the more he works with you the more likely he is to cross you off his list. Come on, Isaac, you know I'm right."
"Fine, but bring your own coffee." He clicked the 'off' button on the handset, finally took a first sip of the red wine he'd brought out with him, and went into the garlic-and-tomato-scented cabin to check on his dinner.
"Agent Gideon, good morning. I understand you've offered to lend us your extensive local knowledge so your colleagues will leave sooner." The sarcasm in Phillips' voice was just barely there, just the faintest hint of smoke in a clear blue sky, but it was there.
"It's in my own self interest, isn't it? Someone out here is killing people, so far in a target group that I don't fit, but the pace is accelerating and the boldness is too." He stepped back from the door, noticing that at least today Phillips had waited to be let in, rather than bulling his way in, and took it as a sign that the police chief's attitude had at least begun to change.
They settled around the battered kitchen table, Aaron and Phillips both holding Starbucks cups off the table as Phillips spread out maps.
"So, your guys tell me that the Gold Creek fire was probably what started all of this, I'm still not convinced because we've got that guy in May as well, but I'm at least willing to give it a chance. Here's a map of the fire's extent, with the sites of the killings marked as well. What do you see?"
Gideon traced his fingers around the edges of the Gold Creek fire. He forgot how close the fire had been, it had started only a few miles away, but on the other side of a ridge of hills and fortunately the prevailing winds had kept it moving in the other direction. But the pall of smoke and drifting ash had blanketed the camp, and retardant bombers had soared over the camp for days on their way to and from the fire. The directors had decided that if the wind quit blowing, or really if anything changed, the camp would be have to be evacuated before it was too late. Even then, there had been a lot of phone calls from worried parents.
"Where was the first killing?"
"Up here, on this trailhead leading off Worman Road. Then this one, over here near the swimming hole across the highway, and then one up off of Harris Road. Those are all in Mariposa County, but not by much. Then he crosses into Madera County, and in chrono order we've got Sugar Pine, then one near the Lewis Trail, and one near Nelder Creek – over in the sequoias, you know? – then the one across the road last night. What we'll get out of Tuolomne County, I don't know."
"You won't get anything from over there. At least, nothing connected."
"Now how do you know that?" Phillips glared at him, half in challenge and half still sure that Gideon knew more than he was telling.
"It's too far away. All of these sites are in a tight spacing, and they're all focused on this immediate area." He paused, and looked at Hotchner and Phillips in turn. "I can see why you think it's me, but it's not. Whoever it is, though, he's staying in this area for a reason. As I said earlier, either he can't leave or there's something here he's protecting."
"Can't leave. Like, doesn't have a car with license plates, or a license, or registration? Defending something. Like his hideaway?" Phillips continued to stare, and Gideon met his eyes across the table, the two of them squaring up for a confrontation.
"That's an interesting thought, Gideon. So if we say he can't leave, or can't travel, why not? What would limit his movement?" Hotchner, always ready to tamp down confrontation, broke the staring duel by leaning forward and setting down his coffee cup as he asked the question.
"Normally I'd say physical limitations of some sort, but since he's out at the trailheads… the amount of time he has free for his kills? Does he work a job with set hours? Or something else that limits his free time?"
"What about his means of transport? What if he has only limited transport?"
The three of them continued to bat ideas back and forth, Gideon not even noticing that Hotchner had slipped and called him by name, or when Phillips moved from wary suspicion to acceptance. Finally, the discussion trailed off, and all of them stared at the maps spread across the table until Hotchner spoke.
"So to sum up, we're not really farther ahead on why he's limited to this area. What about the why of the targets? Is it more important that he's using trailheads, or targeting guys in SUVs?"
"I think the SUVs are the real target. Factor in the keyings as part of the bigger picture, and it's something about SUVs that gets him going.
"All right, makes sense. Is it jealousy of what he doesn't have, or is it something else?"
Phillips took a deep breath, then spoke. "I think you were right earlier, it's about the environment. If the fire was the trigger, then either he's got a hard-on for SUVs because an SUV driver started the fire, or because he thinks SUVs are destroying the environment. How do you figure out what it is?"
"Do we know what sort of fuel all the target vehicles took?"
"I can find out, let me call my office and Mariposa County." Phillips got up, stretched, and went out to the porch with his cell phone, while Aaron sat back from the table and looked at Gideon.
"So, is the retired old firehorse hearing the bells again?"