"Can you believe that son of bitch?"
"Hon, you need to calm down." El begs.
"What I need is Ruiz' head on a stick." Peter paces his kitchen, up and down like a caged lion at the zoo, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce his jailor.
"What you need is to find Neal." She implores, feeling completely useless and for once without any words of encouragement, which were usually her speciality where her husband and Neal were concerned.
There's a quick knock at the door and with tears brimming she leaves him to answer it.
"Hey Elizabeth," Diana greets sombrely. "Peter here?"
El practical melts in relief at seeing her and Jones on the top step. "Dining room," she opens the door wide, "please tell me you have good news."
"We have news," Diana offers, walking through.
"Not sure how good it is." Jones finishes, affording her a respectful nod before following.
Elizabeth swallows and, bracing herself to be the strong one, shuts the door behind them.
"Neal?" Peter stops his pacing the second he lays eyes on the pair.
"Nothing yet," Jones hands over a manila envelope. "But Ruiz' people have shared their case files, we've got this on Benedict."
"It confirms what we suspected?" He asks, accepting it.
"What did you suspect?" Elizabeth joins them gathered around her dining room table.
"Hon," Peter breaths.
"No Peter, Neal's my friend too and I deserve to know what's happening." She stares him down, wafting her fringe out of her eyes. "I can handle it."
Her voice is less convincing than her words, but regardless Peter gives in to the inevitable and nods at Diana, signalling the go ahead to talk.
"Benedict has a psychopath on his crew."
"A psychopath with a type." Jones adds sadly, eyes falling to the envelope Peter still has gripped, unopened in his palms.
"A type?" She looks between the three of them demanding someone explain.
Peter didn't want El to worry, but the point is mute now so he takes the plunge and tries to be as delicate as possible. "Neal was working undercover on a case violent crimes division asked to borrow him for. I said no, Hughes said no, but of course bureaucratic ass kissing won out, Ruiz called in a favour."
"But Neal could have said no, surely?" Elizabeth looks for confirmation that the FBI aren't the bad guys.
It's because of times like this and people like Ruiz that Peter's not so sure anymore.
"This is Neal, does he ever listen to me?" He shrugs, brushing her off, not wanting to start thinking too hard on the motives of the organisation he works for, not right now at any rate.
Elizabeth sees she isn't going to get the validation she needs and resigned, moves on. "So, what did they want Neal to do?"
"Go undercover as an escort," Diana picks up when Peter's mouth dries up and he just can't say the words.
He sees the second understanding dawns and Elizabeth's expression moves from shock to sadness to outright contempt. "This Agent Ruiz. He knew people where dying?"
"He knew alright." Jones adds his two-cents.
Taking a deep, controlling breath Peter rips open the envelope he's still holding in a death grip and gazes into the blue eyes of not one, not two, but five different young men, all with dark brown hair, all looking to be in their early to mid-twenties.
"Ruiz was right." Peter grimaces. "No one on his team could have passed for one of these kids."
"Neal looks young enough to fit the bill." Diana locks eyes with Peter. "Sorry boss."
Peter nods. "How long?"
Jones is the one to offer an answer. "Alan here," he points to the familiar face which greeted him and Elizabeth at the morgue, "had been missing a week before being dragged from the river. Same with the others. They had no family or close friends who reported them missing, timeframe is based on when they stopped using their cell phones and bank accounts. The BAU report hypothesises he keeps them alive for about that long, then takes his next victim before disposing of the body."
"Caffrey's been missing less than 48 hours." Diana speaks up, "means there's still time."
"But time for what? Do we know what's happening to them in the meantime?" Peter can't tear his eyes away.
Diana and Jones share a look, but it's Jones who speaks. "Back page is the autopsy report. Forensics didn't find any DNA, but there's definite evidence of both physical and sexual assault."
A high-pitched intake of breath draws Peters attention from the photos of five traumatised boys in the file to his wife at his side. He reaches out and wraps an arm around her shoulders.
"Call the Harvard crew, get everyone back in, get Ruiz back in. I'm not waiting until morning. We need a location where this sick bastard's keeping Neal. I want everyone on this. No one leaves until we find him."
"Got it boss." Diana takes the file back and her and Jones make their way out the door.
Peter turns to Elizabeth, "Hon,"
"Go," she encourages, looking to where his colleagues have exited leaving the door open waiting for him to follow. "Go find him and bring Neal home." She kisses his lips, long and hard.
Elizabeth holds it together for as long as it takes Peter to grab his coat and gun, shutting the door behind him. The second she hears the tell-tale click of the latch, that's when she lets her tears fall.