Today, I give thanks for the people who have read my work and come back to read more. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.
So, considering what today is, I'm asking in the spirit of giving to please leave a comment for this story. Have a happy Thanksgiving and happy reading.
Having worked until late at night, the team had returned to their hotel rooms for a few hours' sleep before joining again at the police station before splitting for the day. Detective Parker and Officer Mitchell had kept the same hours, contributing local experience and expertise on the people involved.
Hotch had to admit, it made their job so much easier when the local authorities were cooperative as they were in this case. That Mitchell was also able to provide information related directly to the victimology from a personal standpoint aided their cause as well.
They were still gathered when Juliet Mitchell arrived at the station. Apparently, she was very familiar with the police station and its workers were familiar with her presence as none of the uniformed officers nearby seemed to mind her walking in. Some even eyed the basket she carried and smiled in relief. Her brother was not immediately in sight at the moment, so Hotch walked over to greet her, noting the massive picnic basket.
"What's all this?" he asked.
"The hotel's version of breakfast is awful," the young woman pointed out bluntly. "And I bake when I'm tense."
"And you did all this before eight in the morning?" Hotch asked skeptically.
Her smile was full of mirth and good humor. "Agent Hotchner, I've also exercised two horses this morning, cleaned up, did the baking and cleaned the kitchen afterwards." She shrugged. "I'm a morning person."
Hotch watched Juliet approach a side table where some stale donuts were already laid out as well as the double coffee pots that were already on their second batches. She swept the donuts aside with a casual air and then opened her basket to unload its contents.
As she revealed fresh apples, bottles of orange juice, loaves of golden bread, blueberry muffins and butter and jam, Hotch was joined by Prentiss and Morgan.
"Is that what I think it is?" Morgan asked.
"I think I see steam coming off the muffins," Prentiss noticed, almost licking her lips.
Hotch and his team converged on the food with the local officers, his team taking their sustenance with them to their cars to separate for the day and the uniforms returning to their desks or heading to their squad cars for their shifts. During that time, Officer Mitchell had returned, greeting his sister with a quick peck on her cheek before sinking his teeth into a piece of bread.
It was as Hotch, Mitchell, and Juliet were the only three left standing when Mitchell asked, "Where's Tyler?"
Juliet arched an eyebrow. "Sleeping. I tried to get him when I left to ride this morning, but he wouldn't budge. I set three alarms before I left and Uncle Roy said he would drive him in."
"In the mean time, I've got to get back to work," Mitchell said. "Thanks for breakfast Jules."
He left, leaving Hotch and Juliet alone.
"Any news?" the young woman asked.
"We've eliminated Fred Gibson as a suspect," Hotch answered. "And he doesn't fit the profile we've established."
"What's the profile?"
Hotch summarized what the team had shared the previous day, wanting to see if Juliet could think of any more suspects. When he was done, she shook her head.
"I'm sorry. I just can't think of anyone I know from around here who would do that."
"If you do think of someone, please don't hesitate to inform me or your brother."
Juliet could have returned to the stables, but decided to wait with her uncle as Agent Hotchner spoke with Tyler who had arrived in his usual, bleary eyed and cantankerous morning state.
"Did you get some riding done today?" Roy asked as they waited.
"Yeah. I took Rags and Bella out," she said, naming Peter McCallister's two horses. "And yes, I still stayed in the closest rings to the house and barn."
After John had left the previous night and Tyler had returned to his room, Roy had also taken Juliet aside to caution her on the danger.
"Okay. What does the schedule look like this week?"
Uncle and niece discussed business for close to an hour. Even at eighteen years old, Juliet was responsible for many activities and duties at the stable from paperwork to teaching lessons herself. She knew that her uncle wanted Tyler to take more of an interest in his family business. She knew that her uncle was still hoping Tyler would own the stable at some point, but Juliet found it unlikely at the time. He was too angry, felt pressured, and wanted to defy the expected path for him.
Juliet was about to run out and get lunch when she saw Agent Hotchner and her brother come out into the bull pen from the interview room.
"Mr. Phillips, may I have a word?"
Trading a questioning glance with Juliet, Roy walked over to join the FBI agent and John. Juliet imagined that the two men were counting on the ambient noise to cover their conversation, but they had failed to account for the air vent directly above their heads and the connecting vent right next to Juliet's seat.
"What can you tell me about your son's interaction with the victims?"
"Peter was a close friend of mine for years; he's actually Tyler's godfather. And Tyler would have seen the boys at school or at the stables. Why do you ask?"
"Tyler obviously has a lot of anger right now and based on his behavior, it seems to be directed toward you and the stable. Also, Officer Mitchell informed me that Tyler and McCallister fought shortly before McCallister was reported missing."
Hearing the words and recognizing what she herself had told her brother, Juliet remembered the profile the agent had told her only hours before. Angry, wanting to send a message, not physically strong, familiar with the grounds and their family, access to ketamine, and a trigger needed to set him off. She could have screamed, but instead found herself storming across the room without really thinking about it.
"You think Tyler killed these five people out of what, teenage rebellion?" Juliet accused as soon as she was near enough to the three men.
Agent Hotchner's face was closed off and unreadable as he met her stare. Juliet turned her head to her uncle and found him covering his face with one hand while the other clenched into a fist.
"And you think it's possible," Juliet concluded. "This is your son!"
"And you know how he's been acting lately!" Roy shouted back at his niece.
"Roy, Jules," John said tersely, eyeing the other officers paying close attention.
"And what about you?" Juliet turned on him. "Do you think Tyler could murder five people and then leave their bodies out like trash?"
After a moment, he admitted quietly, "It fits, Jules."
"I can't believe you."
"John, have someone take her home," Roy decided. "I'll go speak to Tyler, if that's allowed?" he asked Agent Hotchner whose face remained inscrutable.
"Just back here," the agent directed, leaving the Mitchell siblings alone.
"Damn it, Jules, it looks bad, you've got to admit that," John hissed at his sister, grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her toward his desk.
"I don't care. You and Uncle Roy have given up on him; I haven't."
She stood, fuming, as John approached another officer. Before anything else could happen, Roy came rushing into the bull pen.
"He's gone!"
"How did a teenage kid escape from a police station?" Prentiss demanded after hearing the update when she and Reid had returned from their interviews.
"When he's a teenage kid that knows this building inside and out," Detective Parker answered. "Our family members almost have free reign here since we're so small."
"Regardless, we need to find him before he lashes out and maybe kills again," Hotch said. "Where would he go?"
Unconsciously, all the assembled officers and agents turned to Officer Mitchell. He had stepped out to see his uncle and sister leave and had returned with a pained expression on his face.
"Friends' houses, the skate park, and the library," Mitchell summed up.
Even Detective Parker raised his eyes at the mention of the library; Tyler's school records and below average grades were common knowledge. Mitchell saw and elaborated, "He likes reading but hates having to analyze books for school. Don't ask me, I don't get it either."
"All right. Please write down the addresses of his friends and we'll split up to look for him," Hotch said. "We need to convince him that we're listening to what he's saying. He's been killing because he thinks no one is paying attention."
What followed was absolutely fruitless searching. He had not been seen at the skate park or library for days; friends had not seen him since the previous day at school. Talking with people to gain more insight on the boy also proved relatively useless as no one had anything to add that they didn't know already.
At one point, Hotch found himself alone with Officer Mitchell.
"I understand this must be difficult for you."
The other man eyed Hotch before running a hand through his hair. "What, believing my cousin has murdered five people, four of them kids, or hunting him down like a criminal?"
"All of it."
"Part of me wants to side with Juliet and deny that all of this is possible," Mitchell confessed. "I want to believe that my little cousin who used to ride on my shoulders couldn't possibly murder anyone. I want to think that he ran because he was scared or angry, not guilty."
"But he's also our best suspect right now," Hotch added.
"Yeah."
It was getting dark, and there was still no word of Tyler Phillips.
"Garcia, anything?" Morgan asked while the technical analyst was on speaker phone.
"Nothing my super agents. His cell phone is off but I have an alert if it comes back on."
"Thanks baby girl."
"He could be in Gunnison forest," Parker pointed out. "Lots of acres to hide in."
Mitchell frowned. "He hasn't been in there in at least five years."
"Is it land he's familiar with?" Hotch asked.
"Up until recently, very."
"It's more than what we've got right now. Detective, please organize some search parties."
"At this rate, we'll be searching all night," Parker muttered as he walked away.
Hotch saw the strain on all the local forces, especially Mitchell. He had meant what he said earlier and was beyond relieved that Mitchell and Phillips were cooperating with the search and not stonewalling them or in denial.
All teenagers read like sociopaths, he knew. And Tyler Phillips read like a text book case of repressed rage. Losing his mother at a young age and then the pressure set on him by his father eventually snapped when Peter McCallister also exerted pressure to fall in line to what was expected of him. Hotch theorized that Tyler then saw murder as a tool to get his own suppressed message to his father and maybe ruin the family business that he didn't want to be a part of.
When Tyler had at first exploded and then shut down during the interview, Hotch saw the pieces fall into place. On the run, Hotch wondered what the boy would do under even more pressure.
"Officer Mitchell, come with me."
Explaining as the two men drove back to Rosa Stables, Hotch and Mitchell made record time and walked up to the main house.
"John? Agent Hotchner?" Phillips looked at them in mingled fear and hope. "Did you find him?"
"Not yet," Mitchell answered.
"We think he might come here to confront you," Hotch explained. "I've talked with my team and the other officers and they are on stand by."
"Why not have them here?" Phillips asked.
"I don't want Tyler to be too scared to approach if he sees too many of us here. Right now, this is the best chance we have for bringing your son in safely."
Phillips was nodding, but some what absently. "I'll go get Juliet and tell her. She might be able to help." He disappeared up the stairs.
"She probably won't though," Mitchell muttered. "Not when she still thinks this is a mistake."
"Then we can tell her that guilty or innocent, we need to find Tyler and convince him not to act out so we can get to the truth," Hotch determined.
"John!"
Hotch and Mitchell rushed to the bottom of the stairs as Phillips came speeding down.
"She's not here and her window is open."
"Shit," Mitchell swore and without waiting for either man, walked out the door and into the dark. Hotch and Phillips followed closely as Mitchell walked into the main stable, hitting a light switch on his way. Hotch watched and saw Mitchell approach the same stall that he had seen opened just the day before. At that moment, it was empty.
"She went out to find him," Phillips said, shocked.
"No, she went out to meet him," Mitchell corrected in carefully controlled frustration.
"Does she have a cell phone as well?" Hotch asked.
"Yes," Mitchell answered. "But I know where they are. Tyler on the run could be any where, but if Jules is with him, there's only one place they would both go."