Essential Listening – She Is, by The Fray
0o0
"All units in the vicinity of North Harney Boulevard, shots fired at seven-fifty-one North Harney."
Derek strode up the street, ropey from lack of sleep and a case that he already knew would always haunt him, letting the sounds of the sirens and the radio wash over him.
"Repeat, all units, shots fired at seven-fifty-one North Harney."
He did not want to be here. At all.
"We're not working a case," he remarked, finding Rossi waiting by a patrol car in the midst of the chaos. "Why call us to a crime scene?"
"I was hoping you knew," Rossi replied, and Derek surmised that he'd had about the same amount of sleep.
Behind Rossi, Prentiss ducked under the crime scene tape.
"JJ said the police told her it was urgent," said Emily.
"Four hours of sleep after what we went through in Canada, it better be," Derek commented, quirking an eyebrow.
JJ, Reid and Pearce were already in the apartment, when they got to the third floor. Reid was flicking through a file, while Pearce carefully traced a blood trail across the wall. JJ was doing what she did best: liaising hard.
"Oh, you guys are here already, good," she said. "You guys remember Detective Walker?"
She nodded at the detective who had been comparing notes with another officer in the corner, and Derek slowed a few paces. Walker had been the detective who had worked Gideon's girlfriend's murder*, two years before.
He was a good detective and a good man, as he recalled.
"Thanks for being here," said Walker, shaking their hands. "I understand none of you are working on much rest."
Understatement, thought Derek grumpily.
"Who's the victim?" Rossi asked, glancing at the corpse on the floor, covered by a yellow plastic sheet.
"His name is Nelson Martinez," Walker told them. "From what we can figure, he answered his door, was forced into the apartment at gunpoint and then shot in the chest."
"Sloppy and ill-planned," Pearce observed and the detective nodded.
"No disrespect," said Derek, looking around at what seemed like too straightforward a murder for the BAU, "but I don't understand why you need us here."
"Two days ago, a local doctor named Tom Barton found a note addressed to him at the hospital," Walker explained. "It said the person was planning to kill his son. If Doctor Barton tried to keep his boy hidden, one person would die every day in his place."
"And you think this is connected?" Prentiss asked.
"The note is signed 'LC'," Reid put in.
"Yesterday we had another victim," said the detective. "Multiple gunshots outside the apartment. The shooter wrote LC in white chalk next to the body."
Rossi pulled the sheet covering Martinez' body back, revealing the initials drawn on the floor beside the victim's head.
"Now, unless Doctor Barton puts his son in harm's way, we're going to keep having a victim a day," said Reid.
"Where's Barton now?" Rossi asked.
"He's at home," said JJ. "He doesn't know about this victim yet."
"I think we should head there next," said Pearce, glancing at the clock. "It's a couple of hours before his kid will be heading to school. We should try to head him off."
"Where's Hotch?" Prentiss asked.
"He's not answering his cell," JJ replied. "I assume it's on vibrate. He'll get the message when he wakes up."
"Try him again," said Rossi. "He can meet us at Barton's house."
They started downstairs, JJ already dialling. "Hotch, it's JJ again," she said, when she hit his voicemail. "Listen, we're gonna need you to meet us at an address in McKlean, Virginia – one-twenty Kensington Road."
She glanced at Prentiss, who glanced at her watch.
"Call me when you get this."
0o0
"Doctor Barton, where is your son right now?" Emily asked.
"Um, I asked him to stay up in his room," said the doctor, looking deeply uncomfortable.
They were standing in the study of his very nice, suburban home, delivering some very bad news to a very confused man.
"And what did you tell him?" JJ asked.
Barton cleared his throat. "I told him that there was a threat against me at the hospital. I told him the police didn't take it seriously but that they wanted me to stay here for a few days and that I wanted to have him with me."
"And Jeffrey's mother?" Rossi asked.
"She died when he was ten. Breast cancer." He licked his lips, worried. "Would someone really hurt Jeffrey?"
"Sadly, we think so," said Grace.
"Two people are dead already," Rossi told him. "Whoever sent that note is obviously serious."
"And if I don't let Jeffrey out of the house, then another person's gonna die?" Barton asked, agitated.
It was an impossible decision.
Morgan nodded. "Right now we have to assume that he will keep killing."
"My son is fifteen years old," Barton pointed out.
"I understand," said Detective Walker.
"I can't put him in danger," Barton insisted.
"We're not asking you to," said Emily. "And even if you were willing, we couldn't send him to school knowing he would endanger every student in the building."
The doctor looked mildly relieved.
"What we need to do now is go over everything we know, piece together how this person fits into your life," said Rossi, automatically taking point in Hotch's absence.
"Well, I – I – I can't think of anyone who would want to kill Jeffrey," he stuttered.
"It's okay," said Pearce. "We'll walk you through this."
"Whoever wrote that note was putting you on notice – this is personal," Emily explained. "He wants you to remember who he is, and until that happens, he hasn't accomplished what he set out to do."
"I know you've been asked this before," Morgan began, "but please, think again – do you know anyone with the initials LC?"
Barton sighed, shaking his head. "I've looked everywhere – day planner, emails, patient lists. There's no one."
"Have you noticed anyone who might have been watching you, either at the hospital or here in the neighbourhood?" Emily asked.
"I – I'm sorry," said Doctor Barton.
"Both the victims he's killed have been Hispanic men in their forties," said Detective Walker. "Have you had a patient recently that fits that description?"
"I'm a trauma surgeon in DC, I have endless patients, all demographics," Barton replied, frustrated.
"Okay. We're going to need records of all your recent surgeries," said Grace.
"Of course," said Barton at once.
"I'll call Garcia," said JJ, hurrying out.
"I – I don't understand," Barton said, and Emily got the feeling that this was a thing he had had on his mind since the note had first appeared. "If he's mad at me, why not just kill me?"
Deciding to leave the explanation to the others, Emily followed JJ into the hall. "JJ, is there any word from Hotch?"
"No, nothing," said her friend, with a frown.
"Huh, that's not like him," Emily remarked.
"Yeah, I know," said JJ.
They shared a look that said quite clearly that they both thought Hotch was working too damn hard. But then, what was new?
In the study, a cell phone rang and they moved back in, a ripple of excitement running through the group. At this stage, it could be the killer, ready to taunt his victim.
"It's mine," said Barton, picking up. "Hello? Jeffrey?" He looked up at the agents in alarm. "What – what's happening? Are you okay?"
Emily felt her heart drop into her stomach.
Morgan, who was obviously thinking the same, darted up the stairs to check the boy's bedroom.
"Jeffrey, what's going on? Talk to me."
"He's not up here," Morgan called down.
"Jeffrey, where are you?" Barton demanded, frantic. There was a pause as he listened to his son. "I love you, Jeffrey."
He hung up.
"Doctor Barton?" Grace asked.
"He went to school," he explained, on the verge of panic. "He said he didn't want anyone to be put at risk for him."
0o0
A weak man has doubts before a decision. A strong man has them afterwards.
Karl Krauss
0o0
By mutual, unspoken agreement, the team had immediately sorted itself into two halves; those who would have the best impact at the school, and those who would be better engaged with a paper trail.
Rossi, Morgan and JJ made for the SUVs at some speed, along with Detective Walker, leaving Prentiss, Reid and Grace to herd Doctor Barton back inside the house.
"Doctor Barton!" Prentiss called after him, as he made to follow them.
Rossi heard her shout, halfway down the drive. "You need to go back inside," he said firmly.
"I'm coming with you," Barton insisted. "I'm gonna get my son."
"Sir, right now nobody is getting your son," Morgan told him. "Agents Prentiss, Pearce and Reid will explain it."
"I don't need an explanation. I'm getting Jeffrey."
He went to hurry past them, but Rossi blocked his way.
"You need to listen right now," he said, in a voice that brooked no argument. "Once your son left this house, the safest place for him to be is at that school."
"We can control access in and out," Morgan told him quickly. "Detective Walker will organise an evacuation as soon as the school day is done, but if we incite a panic now and the unsub is outside, a lot of kids are gonna die."
Barton rubbed his hands through his hair, agitated and helpless. "What if the killer is already at the school?" he demanded.
"Then we'll be there, too," JJ assured him.
"Let us do our job," said Rossi.
He looked at him, then at the faces of all the worried agents on his driveway. "Jeffery isn't like this. He doesn't put himself in danger."
"He's just trying to do the right thing," Reid supplied, and on the drive, Morgan nodded.
"He sees what his father does for a living," he added. "This is his way of trying to save lives, too."
There was a moment of stillness; they were getting through to him.
"Come back inside, Doctor Barton," said Grace, gently. "And help us work out who this guy is so we can head him off."
"You'll be there?" he asked, of the others.
Rossi met his worried gaze with a steady, steely one of his own. "Yes."
Finally, Barton nodded. He cast a look at JJ, as the least threatening. "Tell him I'm not mad at him. Tell him I love him, and, uh… I'm proud of him."
"We will," Morgan promised.
0o0
"This guy's a trauma surgeon working a major metropolitan area," Garcia complained. "We are talking thousands of surgeries."
"Confine it to the last six months," said Spencer.
Grace, sitting beside him on the couch, nodded. "Something must have set this guy off fairly recently."
Spencer nodded.
Together, they glanced at the door to the other room, where Prentiss was performing a combination of keeping Doctor Barton calm and getting any pertinent information out of him.
"That's still hundreds," Garcia replied.
He didn't have her on speaker, in deference to the doctor's understandable anxiety, and Grace was having to lean in close to hear – which Spencer had no complaints about whatsoever.
"I know," he said.
"We'll need to eliminate them all, Garcia," Grace added, loud enough that the technical adviser could hear.
"Okay, do you want biographical information or full medical charts?"
Spencer's eyebrows rose. "Can you get the full medical charts?"
"That's absolutely illegal," Grace murmured and he felt the corner of his mouth tick up.
"You know, for a smart boy, you still ask a lot of dumb questions," Garcia teased, and the slight smile on his face grew a little. "You'll have them in seconds."
"Hey, Garcia," he said, before she could hang up.
"Yes, my love?"
"Has Hotch checked in with you?"
There was a pause. "He's not with you?"
He exchanged a look with Grace, but there wasn't time to dwell on it.
"He's probably on his way," he said quickly, as Prentiss and Doctor Barton came in. "Uh, thanks for everything. Bye."
He could feel Grace reshuffling her priorities. Barton was on edge enough as it was, they didn't need to air their concerns about Hotch's unusual absence in front of him.
"She's going to email the files. We'll print them out from here," he told them.
"I could have my office send over the files," Barton offered, but Prentiss shook her head.
"No, no, trust us, this is faster."
"Doctor Barton, we need to sit down with you," said Grace. "I know this is a frustrating, horrible situation, and it might be easier to be up and doing, but we need you to focus on us just now. If pacing helps you do that, then that's fine, but if not…" She indicated the couch across from the one she and Spencer were occupying.
He nodded, took a seat, and tried to still hands that wanted to be taking action against his legs.
"Okay," Spencer began. "We need to dig through your life and try to figure out why this is happening. Let's start with the most recent cases first."
"Something set this guy off, and odds are it's in your files," Emily told him.
0o0
The principal stared at them, her municipal training taking over.
"I need to notify all the parents," she said, already starting to move towards the inner office.
Rossi stopped her. "We think that's a mistake."
"I'm in charge of keeping these kids safe," she replied, clearly worried and clearly thinking through all the steps she needed to achieve to make sure her charges were protected.
Derek kept quiet. It was good to encounter someone who didn't immediately panic.
"Exactly," said JJ. "And there's a natural end to this day, when buses and parents come to pick these kids up."
"Whoever's doing this is not an effectual shooter," Derek put in, on her incredulous expression. "His killings are sloppy. So, if there's a panic, a lot of people could be caught in the crossfire."
"Can't you just take Jeffrey home?" she asked, considering the options.
"And if we do that and the unsub is watching, someone else is gonna be killed," Rossi explained.
They were between a rock and dead place here, and while Jeffrey's decision had changed the field a little – and scared the hell out of his dad – it had also bought them a little time. They could draw the unsub's gaze while the other half of the team got elbow deep in the doctor's life.
"Then what?" asked the principal, that scared-but-dealing-with-it look on her face.
"We lock up every filter point except the front door," Rossi told her, with the kind of bureau certainty that engendered trust. "Nobody comes in. We say it's school policy. No questions. And if someone needs to see a student, we bring the kids to them."
Findlay didn't look happy, but the urge to spring into action and inform parents had subsided.
JJ took advantage. "I'll need a complete list and employment records of everyone already inside the building."
The principal nodded and made her way to the wall of filing cabinets in the corner.
"I'll brief your security guards," said Rossi, making it sound like an offer, rather than something already set in stone. "And take care of all of the exits. After that I need you to gather the faculty into small groups and bring them to me. Treat it as routine," he advised.
"And in the meantime, I need you to get Jeffrey out of class as casually as possible," Derek said. "Can you do that?"
The principal nodded and summoned her office staff to generate JJ's list of people on site.
Ten minutes later, Derek followed her out into the hall and waited while she went into Jeffrey's geography class to extract him.
The kid was worried, but the presence of the principal calmed him – and it helped that she didn't blame him for coming in to school.
"Hey Jeffrey," said Derek, as affably as he could, given the situation. "My name's Derek Morgan. I'm with the FBI."
Jeffery nodded, looking frightened. "I saw you in my living room."
"Listen, the first thing I need to know is if you've told anyone about what's happening."
"No," he said, shaking his head.
Behind him, two girls came out of the bathroom at the end of the hall and started the long walk towards them. They frowned when they saw the small group, and started eyeing them with great curiosity.
Principal Findlay clocked them immediately. "Back to class. No loitering."
They turned and went the other way, both rolling their eyes.
"Jeffrey, you're sure?" Derek asked, regaining his attention. "Because even just one text message could set this place off."
"I'm sure."
"Alright, that's good," Derek assured him. "We're gonna keep you safe, kid," he said earnestly. "But in order to do that, you're gonna have to stay calm. And also you're gonna have to trust me. You understand?" he asked. "Every time you step out of class, I will be right here. Now it's gonna look like I'm just another adult in the hallway with Principal Findlay, but I got your back."
He swallowed and nodded. "Is my dad okay?" he asked, much to his credit.
"He knows you were just trying to do the right thing," said Derek. "He just wants to get you home safe."
"Do you think somebody's trying to kill me to get back at him?"
"It is possible," Derek responded.
Jeffery bit the inside of his mouth, thoughtfully. "Do you know why?"
"That's what we need to figure out."
0o0
*See Moments of Grace – Season Two, Act Three: No Mortal Lock, chapters 12-13.