September 5-6, 2017
He leaned his head back against the driver seat, mentally cursing them. All of them, the day he ever met them...or anything to do with them, really. He plastered a smile on his face as he stepped out of the SUV and into the frigid cold air of the Michigan night. How in the world had this gotten so messed up? One minute he'd been at the bar with his brother-in-law and then...this.
He walked into the office, taking no notice of the scowls as Marshal Keller looked up from his stack of papers, his hand full of caffeine and sugar. "Late night, man? That's rough."
"Late night behind the wheel is even rougher. Got to take this one cross-country last minute." He hooked a thumb behind his shoulder at the holding cell.
He spared little more than a second towards the cell, determined not to make eye contact with the woman who was the source of his fury. "I might be able to take her off of your hands."
"I appreciate the offer, but there are protocols -"
"Seriously man, you can save me a lot of time and money on a plane ticket home."
Marshall Keller lowered his glasses, scrutinizing the newcomer. "You expect me to hand over a convicted killer to you -"
He flashed his credentials. "This one's got ties to the FBI. I'm taking over her transport."
The Marshall shrugged. "Sign here. Anything happens, it's on you. She's out of my hands."
He stood back as the Marshall signed off on the paperwork and removed the prisoner from the holding cell. She really had no poker face, grinning like a maniac...or maybe she wanted to get him in trouble. That seemed to be her specialty.
He took her arm perhaps more roughly than was needed as he steered her towards the patrol car and all but shoved her in the back seat.
Catherine Adams smiled sweetly at her escort. Perhaps her charm was wearing off, prison uniforms didn't leave much room for flattery and he looked...pissed. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
"You could say that!" he growled, his eyes on the road, fists clenching the wheel. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"Don't even start!"
He clenched the wheel even tighter. He gave her a strained smile while he counted to ten. "Why in the Hell would you agree to testify for Reid, hmm? Are you trying to ruin the case? This was YOUR IDEA, remember?"
Cat slouched back in the back seat, insomuch as the shackles would allow. She stroked her stomach. "I don't expect you to understand, Agent -"
The softness in her voice took him by surprise, but not so much as her words. "Oh, so we're back to that now, are we? I'm just another petty agent you can twist in circles, well that's just lovely."
"Why do you care, anyway, Joel?"
Joel Matthews cranked the heat up, taking a sip of his now-cold coffee. "Why do I care?" he bit back, taking a precious second to glare at her smirking face. "I'm your accomplice, Cat! What are you going to do, rat me out? That's it, isn't it?"
"Don't worry, I won't rat you out."
"And I'm just supposed to what...take you at your word?"
"Doesn't look like you have much of a choice, now, does it?" She laughed, the sick maniacal way that only a bitch could. "I have an idea. Let's...play a game. Makes the time go by a lot faster...believe you me, I know A LOT about passing time." Catherine Adams pressed the side of her face up against the ice cold window of the patrol car. For the first time in a long time, she smiled at the sight of the open water...freedom was just beyond the horizon.
"No."
"Now the rules -" she continued as if she hadn't heard.
"I said 'No,' Cat! You don't get it! This is NOT a game! You can not screw up people's lives like -"
A pointed glance and narrowed eyes shut him up.
like that. He finished silently. Reid's messed up life right now was just as much his fault as it was hers at this point.
"First of all, you can stop the innocent act. I know that's not you! So, I may have failed geography in Middle School but I could have sworn that Michigan was NOT a coastal state, which means that there body of water is a Great Lake, and we should be going north, not south."
"I can't tell you where we're going. You know the rules."
"Come on, Joel, admit it, you're here to break me out, right? We're going to live up with the eskimos and play hockey for the rest of our days. Why else would you come in and take over my transport, solo...which I KNOW is against regulation. So come on. Turn around and gets us the hell out of here!"
"You think it's that easy?"
"Well, yeah, get some fake IDs and a suitcase in the car...fake extradition papers at the least. By the time the DOC has a clue, we'll be long gone."
"No, you see if I was going to extradite you then the RCMP would have to take over, so that won't work and you are in my custody so taking you across the border would make me a fugitive...and I'd be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. So. NO!"
Cat's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "You're kidding me? You're already a fugitive."
"No! No! I'm your accomplice. There's a difference."
"Oh, some difference. You're still a criminal."
"A criminal with a badge, which I am not going to surrender without a fight. By your plan I might as well put a ribbon on it and hand it over to the Mounties!"
"Mounties?" she sounded incredulous. "If that's some kind of Cowboy joke, I -"
"The RCMP - Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I wouldn't have jurisdiction in Canada and I'm not keen on leaving a trail of bodies - especially when we can't pin them on Reid." Apparently there was a downside to someone being arrested for your crimes. "So, I'm going to do MY JOB. That's it!"
"So why do it, then? Why take over the transport if you're not going to help a girl out?"
He averted his eyes from the rear view mirror and the border crossings signs which quickly disappeared into the horizon. "It won't work, you know. No one would believe you, you've got nothing on me. Just heresay." He ran over the case files in his head again...no mention of a witness dumping bodies. Surely the Bureau would have come for him by now if they suspected anything.
"Then why are you so scared?"
"I'm not scared!
Yes, you are! If he hadn't been driving, he'd put his head in his hands and groan. But he was driving and he wasn't at home...he was stuck in the car with the devil's mistress for the next seven hours, trying to do damage control before his life completely derailed. Kill her! This wasn't the first time the thought had occurred to him. How had he gotten involved in this mess? Oh, right, Lindsey had threatened to rat him out as a customer, and one favor had become another and another...what he wouldn't give to be free of them!
Just do it! It wouldn't be that hard. Cut her loose and then claim self defense? That might actually qualify as poetic justice ...after all she'd killed plenty of unborn babies. Why should hers be any different? He shook his head. He couldn't do that, couldn't kill a pregnant woman. Shaw had done that and it had...eaten away at him. He was a shadow of his former self. Maybe it was prison, maybe it was guilt, but he had no desire to find out. Just stick to the case. Everything will work out in the end."It's Lindsey again, isn't it? Your precious kitten! She's got something to do with this!"
Cat said nothing, choosing instead to stroke her stomach and stare mournfully out of the window. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was planning -something. Woe betide anyone who came between Cat and her messed up, delusional...Except she wasn't delusional. She was a mastermind, which meant she had SOMETHING in mind. There was something in this for her to gain...there had to be. Cat would never give any help like this for free - but the thought of the FBI agreeing to do a deal with her was - STOP IT. There it was again - the cyclical thinking that had kept him up all night since she'd been transferred to Michigan in the first place. Cat was after something - and she was holding her silence.
You have NOTHING to worry about! Joel tried again to console himself. Worst case scenario: Cat rats him out, there was nothing against him. Nothing at all. Border Patrol pictures maybe, he'd driven cross-country to dispose of the bodies, but there were no cameras in the woods. At most he'd be suspended for an investigation. Nothing life changing...as for Cat's testimony, it wasn't like she had been there for anything. Reid's lawyer was grasping at straws, plain as day. Whatever Cat was planning, he was safe.
Joel Matthews had never been so happy to see prison walls and wire fences as he was at that exact moment. Driving through the gate felt, oddly liberating. He would be free of her finally. He opened her door, pretending to be a gentleman in a performance which was almost comical "Welcome to FCI Greenburg, Illinois. Otherwise known as: Home sweet home."
"Very funny!" Cat bit back, mad at herself for having gotten her hopes lifted for nothing. She stood obediently, scowling at his cheerful smile as the next officer reviewed her paperwork. After a curt verbal confirmation that all was in order, she was ushered towards a van of new arrivals and Joel disappeared from her sight.
She walked slowly behind the nervous local inmates, many of whom were cowering at the sight of the guard towers and batons, but not Cat. The wheels in her head kept turning and turning...until it just stopped.
"Break it up, inmates!" The barked order drew Cat's attention to the adjacent prison yard. One particular inmate dropped his arm from what appeared to be a choke hold and laid on the ground as ordered...a very familiar inmate. Cat's grin could not be contained.
"Well hello, Spency!"
Spencer Reid pulled the knit cap down over his ears. The fabric was itching his newly shaved head, but that particular annoyance paled in comparison to getting pneumonia in prison...or the more immediate problem right under his nose. Sure enough, as he stepped out into the bitter cold of the prison yard, he was not surprised at all to find that the races were separated almost as if the segregation had been ordered. Almost. Most were either running or hitting the gym equipment in groups of three or more. Almost all of them were grouped by race, except for a small group of older inmates playing cards and chess at the tables. He took a seat on the cold hard cement of the walkway, well away from the yellow marching lines. Perfect for both surveillance and staying out of trouble. He wasn't about to assume that bleechers and benches were free territory.
Keep your head down and stay out of trouble. That was going to be his mantra this time. A fresh new start..a clean slate.
A quick call to the team after breakfast had informed him that he NOT incarcerated with anyone who would recognize him from a case. The relief her words had provided was so profound that it felt as though another weight had fall off of his shoulders. He leaned his head back against the stone wall and allowed himself a momentary luxury of closing his eyes, something he never would have thought about in Millburn.
He was brought out of his reverie by heavy footfalls surrounding him. He opened his eyes to see himself surrounded by three men - each sporting a broad smile which might convince a newcomer, but Reid could see the predatory gleam in their eyes.
"Good morning, gentlemen," he greeted as he climbed back up to his feet. A bit of respect, even apathy, might just throw them off of their game. "Great day to be alive, isn't it?" His chipper smile belying the terror that lurked underneath as he turned his back towards the yard. It was a frightening move, but necessary to avoid being pinned against the wall.
Taking note of the strategic move, the leader of the group chuckled. "You've done time before, I take it."
He bit back his usual reply. Nothing put a target on an inmate's back faster than a claim of innocence. "What makes you say that?"
"A newbie would never be smiling or closing his eyes. I'm Miles. This is Stewart and that's Williams. So what's your name, boy?"
"Reid."
So what makes you so happy to be in FCI Greensburg, Reid?"
"I've got friends in Chicago." Don't mess with me. No need to mention that he'd feared death threats or worse in Milan.
"Think your so-called friends are going to travel 8 hours total to come see you?"
"Considering I got visitation in Michigan and Washington, I'd say yes." The thought of seeing his best friend again brought a rare smile to his face. Now that he'd gotten through the humiliation, he found that he was actually looking forward to a visit.
Miles looked begrudgingly impressed. "Damn, you've been down for some time, then? How much have you got left?"
"I don't count the days." He had started out like that, but it got tedious and aggravating...and everyone had advised against it. Small wonder, they were right.
"So what did you do on the outside?" Stewart interrupted before Miles could continue the 'interrogation'.
"Professor." Guest lecturing had to count for something.
"Professor of what?"
"Criminology."
The word was met by a round of laughter. "Looks like the good professor needs to go back to school." Miles made a move to pull Reid closer, but Reid, anticipating this, ducked under Miles. He threw both of his arms around Miles' throat as he backed into the wall.
Williams and Stewart looked every bit ready to rip Miles out of his grasp, which Reid tightened until he heard Miles gag slightly, clawing at his captors arms, but Reid kept his grip firm. "Just so you know, whatever you've got going here: gangs, contraband..anything like that? I want NOTHING to do with it! Leave me alone, I leave you alone! Got it!"
A shrill whistle sounded from behind. "Break it up, inmates!"
Reid released his arm and dropped to the ground, his eyes never leaving his fellow inmates who followed suit. "Got it?"
"Yes!" The round of whispered replies was enough for Reid, who sealed his mouth at the guard's approaching. He stood, hands behind his back without a fight, a small twisted smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when a familiar voice wiped it away.
"Well hello, Spency!"
What the- ? Only one person called him that. He turned sharply in the guards' grip, his neck practically on swivel as he caught a glimpse of the speaker before disappearing into the building. Oh hell no!