Chapter Eight
Reid sat in the passenger seat staring absently out the window as the SUV sped north to a stand of wooded land and the cabin of Derrick Kramer. Fleiss had finally broken down and confessed it, after over four hours of interrogation by Hotch and Rossi. Now the question was, were the children still at the cabin, and were they alive.
It had been about money. The two convicts had been paid by Jacob Yoder to help him kidnap the children. The plan was to take all of them: his own boy and girl and Leah. They weren't to touch Leah, because she was to belong to Jacob. The other two were theirs to sell. Jacob had said that he didn't care what they had to do to the rest of the family, in order to take the children. He knew Ezra was away from home and would come back to find loss and mayhem. Causing Ezra pain, and torturing his former wife, was Jacob's sole motive. As for Jacob's motive - no sane mind would be able to grasp it. His wife had been forced to reject him, and had fled to the shelter of her nearest relative: Ezra. That had sealed her fate.
Hotch glanced periodically over at Reid as he drove. He had been vaguely aware of the little romance between Aubrey Bennett and Reid; Morgan had joked about it. Hotch was glad that Reid was involving himself with a young woman such as Aubrey - it had the potential of turning into something serious, and Reid had certainly lacked that connection in his young life. Hotch understood more than perhaps anyone the value of someone at home - someone to build a home with. Someone to build a life with, outside of the BAU. For the time he had been with Haley - before she had left him - Hotch had known the joy of building an intimate, safe nest in his life. For a time it had kept him sane, and nowadays he struggled to find a substitute for it, and find a reason to hang onto sanity. He enjoyed his work, but he knew he would have to find a better way to cope with its darker aspects, especially now that he was alone again. He wished a lighter load for Reid; he had grown fond of the young, sensitive and sometimes troubled genius through the past six years. Reid wouldn't be able to hold up for more years without someone to make the down time worthwhile. Someone to hold him through the nights.
This morning Hotch had nearly stifled a laugh when Reid walked into the conference room at the police station. In all their years together, Hotch had never seen the boy in a red shirt. He hadn't in fact seen him in a T-shirt. To see both in the same blow was humorous. It had been obvious to everyone what had happened. But something had changed during the day. When Reid had met up with the team in the afternoon he had become withdrawn, even pale. Hotch had twice asked Reid to focus as they spoke. Now, they had ridden near 65 miles without a word from Reid. Something was wrong.
"So...you have a girlfriend?" asked Hotch.
"No. Why would...why would you ask that?" Reid was a bit testy.
So Hotch was right. Something had gone wrong. He didn't answer but let the silence settle back on them, and let Reid take refuge in it again.
After another half hour, Hotch said, "You know, I have never been sorry, Reid."
"About what?"
"About Haley. About Jack. All of it. Having a family."
"But . . . she died because of this job."
"No, she died because of one sick individual."
Reid was quiet then, and Hotch could feel him thinking. "I ended it," Reid said.
"Why?"
"I don't know," answered Reid and turned back toward the window. "Lot's of things. I guess..I really don't know how I could ... and my mom and this job and everything." After a few minutes, he looked back at Hotch, and a sheepish smile played at his mouth, "I really blew it Hotch. She hates me."
Hotch felt a warmth swell in his chest for Reid. He was so young, so awkward. So controlled by intellect and out of touch with the rest of himself. Hotch thought carefully before speaking, "Well, maybe you can't fix it now, and you'll have to stock it up to experience. Which isn't a bad thing.." he winked at Reid. "Or...you can go to her and apologize."
Reid smiled to himself sadly, "I don't know if that would be enough."
"Maybe not..would you rather go home and always wonder?"
Hotch pulled off the highway onto a dirt lane leading into the woods. Dusk was falling now. A moose stepped up onto the road and turned to look at the SUV. They rolled to a stop to wait until she moved her massive slender frame across the road. "Wow," Reid said, looking at her intently.
Hotch watched him, as he often did, wondering what thoughts entered his mind, what questions. Certainly they were questions that the rest of them wouldn't think of, because they hadn't the same foundation of knowledge - all the tiny details about the physical world - that Reid had. Suddenly Hotch realized what a burden that intellect might be.
"Reid, I may be out of line," he began.
Reid turned and looked at him surprised. He shrugged, "No..what?" he asked with soft hesitation.
Hotch put the SUV into drive and slowly rolled forward again over the road, careful to avoid the ruts in the dark. "Don't over-think things. You merely liked her, move on. You love her? Go after her. Don't let that big brain of yours sabotage you."
Reid looked ahead in the dark automobile, his lips silently forming the beginnings of thoughts that he didn't voice aloud. Don't let your brain sabotage you. Hotch's words would stay with him for several hours as he turned possibilities over in his head, and those words seemed wiser as time passed.
~~/~~
Rossi stood in the road beside his SUV with a large flashlight and waited until Hotch and Reid approached within a quarter-mile of the cabin. Reid rolled down the window as Rossi approached them. "We don't want to spook them. There is a light at the cabin. It's about 4-500 years into the trees," Rossi gestured at a narrow dirt drive.
As they climbed out of the SUV, Prentiss, J.J. and Morgan stepped into view out of the deep darkness of the woods. "What's the plan?" asked Morgan.
"Let's walk in," said Hotch as he fastened the velcro on his bulletproof vest. "Rossi and Reid, you stay here in case they come through the woods. Everyone, watch yourselves. It's dark, and there are at least two of them. There may be children inside."
The cabin was small and all seemed quiet inside. Leaning into the door, Prentiss exchanged a glance with Morgan. There was no conversation inside. Morgan knocked loudly, "FBI! Open the door!" There was no answer, "FBI! Open the door Mr. Kramer!" Prentiss counted on her fingers, 5-4-3-2-1 seconds, and Morgan kicked the door hard. It flew open. As it did a flood of gunfire came from inside, and Morgan and Prentiss fell crouching back against the outside walls.
When all was finally quiet Hotch called from where he was taking cover by the porch, "Derrick Kramer! We don't want to hurt you. Put the guns down and come out slowly with your hands up." He exchanged glances with Morgan and Prentiss as they waited. "There is no way out now. We need everyone inside to come out slowly with your hands up."
After several long moments, there was a rustling sound inside, then the sound of a heavy metal object being dropped onto a hard flooring. Morgan and Prentiss braced themselves as the sound of boots approached the door's opening. A dishoveled young man stepped out, his hands up. Derrick Kramer. Morgan aimed his gun at the unarmed man as a precaution.
"Walk forward, and down the porch. Lie on the ground face down." Hotch commanded. Kramer obeyed, looking tired, confused and as if he might cry. Prentiss and Morgan covered the door as Hotch cautiously moved to cuff Kramer. "How many others inside?" he asked.
"No one," came the muffled answer as Kramer's face was pressed in to the ground. Hotch nodded to Morgan, and the agents carefully moved inside the cabin.
J.J. dialed Reid on her cellphone. "We have Kramer. He seems to be the only one here. We're going into the cabin now."
Inside the primitive interior, two lamps dimly lit a large common room. Morgan and Prentiss moved slowly, checking the shadows for a concealed gunman. Morgan noticed a computer on the table. Prentiss checked the tiny bathroom; "Clear!" she announced. She moved into the one bedroom, noting that the door had been locked from the outside. She entered and checked behind the door, inside the small closet. When she heard a faint commotion under the bed, she tensed. Swinging around to aim her firearm at the space between bed and floor, she ordered, "Come out! NOW!" careful to be loud enough for Morgan to hear.
As Prentiss had hoped, a child's hand appeared, and then the sleeve of an Amish garment. Two frightened children slowly climbed out from under the bed, as she re-holstered the gun. They slowly stood up, eyeing Prentiss and Morgan with some mixture of curiosity and fear. An adolescent boy and a smaller girl. They had found the Yoder children.
"Where is your father, Son?" asked Morgan.
The boy merely shook his head and stared at Morgan.
Hotch put Kramer in the back of an SUV and strolled across the yard to where Reid and Rossi leaned against the other vehicle. "They haven't said anything. They are in shock. We found some stuff on the computer. Looks like they have been marketing the kids, just haven't found a buyer yet."
"We were lucky," said Rossi. "Where's Yoder?"
Hotch shrugged and shook his head in frustration.
"He sold his own kids," mused Reid. "He obviously feels no paternal affection or obligation to them. He's still out there and still suffering the same delusions about his family. He'll hunt them down again."
The team stood with their own thoughts for a few minutes. Rossi finally broke the silence,"Two down, one to go."
~~/~~
During the long drive back to Youngstown, Reid had time to do a lot of soul-searching. Hotch's words had hit him hard. In truth he often wondered if he might end up alone all his life. And a series of one-night stands, or one-month stands, just didn't appeal to him. He wasn't wired like Morgan, he was someone who craved true intimacy - a meeting of the spirit and mind. Hotch had asked him how he would feel should he leave it like this and go home to Quantico, without looking back. He feared that doing that might create a bigger problem than the one he already had. Even riding back in the darkness, it seemed to him that hundreds of images of Aubrey crossed his mind involuntarily. Little moments in time - a laugh, a touch, a flash of those eyes, her tears, the feel of her softness in his arms as they lay together. How would he cope with these images for weeks or months to come. Or...even years?
Years. YEARS. Suddenly Reid felt a chill. He realized that he might miss her for the rest of his life. He had never been hit by a brick like this over the sight of a woman. He had never wanted anything so much in his life, or been so afraid of anything. And then suddenly, he realized that the fear of missing her always was greater than the fear of losing her. He had to try.
That is, if she would forgive him.
Back at the Youngstown station, Kramer was processed and jailed to await arraignment with his buddy Fleiss. The children were taken directly to the hospital, and would soon be returned to their grandparents and the Amish community. But they had been photographed in some sexual positions, and they would be questioned in depth in the next hours to determine whether they had suffered actual molestation. This and the kidnapping, along with having heard the murders of the Amish women, would be memories that would change them forever, but the arms of the Amish were welcoming and strong, and each member of the team hoped that each of the kids would go on to build a healthy and happy life. The challenge was preventing their father from getting to them again.
The team met for a brief summary of the case thus far. "We can't just hang around forever waiting for this psycho to come after his family!" offered Morgan. Impatient by nature, these long days in this sleepy town had left him antsy and agitated. He longed to wrap this case up and get back to Quantico.
"We have to put a deadline on it.." said Hotch. "Morgan's right. We can't wait indefinitely."
"I...don't think we'll have to," said Reid. "His delusions drive him. He has nothing else really. I think he will come back soon."
"Let's give it three days," said Rossi.
"Done," said Hotch. "We have an APB out for Yoder. We'll put a watch on the Yoder place. That's all we can do for now."
~~/~~
The next evening, Aubrey stepped out of her door and nearly tripped over several objects resting on the porch. Earlier that day she had phoned Derek Morgan to check on the case. Morgan's voice betrayed momentary confusion when he answered, but he didn't ask why she hadn't spoken to Reid, and she didn't offer any explanation. She pretended everything was fine, keeping her voice at a studied pleasant tone.
She nearly yelled when Morgan told her the children had been found. She was greatly relieved that Fleiss and his partner were behind bars, but her heart sank to hear that Jacob Yoder was not found. By noon she had driven out to the Yoder place and spoken to Amos and Emma. They had all formulated a plan. While they welcomed the police presence in front of the property, the Amish couple still felt that they were vulnerable and that the children would be in danger. "I can talk to Jacob if they aren't here," Amos said, "I am his father, he will hear me."
"Amos," Aubrey had said, "Jacob may have helped to kill your daughter and daughter-in-law. They were killed ... badly. He will not hesitate to harm you too."
"The police are here. I will wait."
"What about Leah? About your grandchildren?"
Leah had worked silently about the kitchen with her grandmother, listening to the conversation and saying nothing. Ezra Troyer's younger children played out in the yard, oblivious to the pending danger. An infant sat on Emma's lap. Children who now had no mother. Jacob's two children would be coming back today.
"This is our home," said Emma calmly, letting the baby play with the spatula in her hand. "This is Jacob's home. We will talk to him and let him go willingly to the police. God is watching over this house, and His will will be done."
"But Ezra is also here. Jacob's rage is driven by Ezra's presence. Will Jacob harm Ezra's children? He wants to harm Leah..."
At this, Amos and Emma fell into silence. Amos stood in the corner sipping his coffee. The only sounds breaking the silent peace of the room were the rocking of the chair in which Emma sat and the cooing of the baby. A fresh breeze came in the open window, smelling of cut grass and wet earth.
"Let me take the children to another home. I'll fetch them from the hospital and take them to a neighbor's. At least they won't be here when..if Jacob comes. And Leah could go visiting. Can't we do that?"
The young woman's earnest desire to help had finally softened the resolve of Amos Yoder. "Jacob was given to us. He was never right in the head, or in the spirit. But it was our place to raise him and do right by him. God gave him to us for a reason. It is a hard thing to see this day come." He agreed that the children would be taken to a neighbor's for a few weeks, and that Leah would go as well.
But now, stepping out of the front door, Aubrey was met by a surprise. On the porch at her feet lay an enormous bundle of flowers, and a small package. She picked up the offering and took it inside. Her heart was pounding as she told herself it could be anyone, it had nothing to do with Spencer Reid. There was no card.
Aubrey moved a stool to the counter and climbed up to a high cupboard; she would need a large vase and rarely used such a one for anything. In fact it had been years since anyone had given her a flower, much less this many. She took time to clip the stems of all the flowers and to place them in the vase with lemon and water. Roses - pink and red, and white gladiolas. An obscene display - three dozen stems in all. Who could have done this?
She was walking out the door for the second time when she remembered the package. In her rush to care for the flowers she had forgotten and left it on the kitchen counter. She rushed inside again and found it there, wrapped neatly in gold and brown paper, with a real purple ribbon. Before she had the paper off, as she saw the worn, cracked leather, she knew. This was an antique book, a collector's item. Spencer would have kept such a thing. She removed the last of the wrapping and looked at the front cover: Tennyson's Idylls of the King. She slowly opened the book and caught the piece of paper as it fell out:
Dear Aubrey,
Hopefully we will end the case soon and be leaving. I know you don't want to see me now, but I want you to have something from me. This book has traveled to many places with me. It is a sort of fairy tale, but it gives me comfort sometimes. I hope it will give you comfort too.
And I wanted you to know that you are right about everything. I am a coward. And I don't deserve you. You aren't afraid of anything. I wish I were like that. I wish I could have been like that just for you. The truth is I've never really had a serious girlfriend, and I am not good at those things. You would be better off with someone who is.
But I think that maybe you changed me for the better somehow. If you ever change your mind about me, just call me and I will be on a plane to Wisconsin,I swear it. And then we could maybe try to do this again, and right. If you would ever want to.
Please take care of yourself, and be happy. I know it sounds crazy now, but this coward loved you, and I am not sorry for a minute of it. I hope someday you will not be either...
Spencer.
