"Acts of kindness may soon be forgotten, but the memory of an offense remains."
Proverb
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09.15
Abby sat silently next to Morgan in the car. He was dodging traffic, racing like a madman. The air vibrated with latent hostility, minds focused and were only set for one thing and one thing only; finding Duncan Donnely before it was too late. Abby did the math in her head. They were going to be there too late. The coroner confirmed that the torture and the eventual kill were only two, three hours apart. Best situation? They walked in and Donnely was still warm which meant the killer wasn't far away. Worst case? Donnely was as cold as an ice cube and stiff as a wooden plank.
She had calculated the income and came to only one conclusion. They were going to be there too late, their UnSub was long gone by now. Duncan Donnelly was supposed to arrive at his mother's house a seven. When she called twenty minutes later, he said he was still at work, lost track of time, but he would be there at nine. Around half past ten, he still hadn't shown up. His mother alerted the police the next morning.
The car came to an abrupt halt and the tires screeched underneath them. Both Morgan and Abby jumped out the car, Hotch and Rossi already awaiting them on the pavement. When Reid, Prentiss and JJ also got out of their vehicle and headed towards them, Hotchner and Rossi moved towards Donnely's apartment building.
"What floor?"
Hotch yelled over his shoulder as he opened the door leading to the staircase. JJ replied and Abby tightened her grip around her .22 Glock.
"Third."
It seemed like the faster she wanted to go, the longer it took. Occasionally, Abby leant over the railing to see if she might, by some stupid coincidence, see their UnSub. The clattering of seven pairs of feet stepping on the cold, metal-like steps echoed through the large staircase, announcing their arrival. Outside, Abby could hear police cars arriving, their sirens searing through the walls.
Finally, they had reached the exit and Hotch opened it, closely followed by Rossi. He cleared the hallway quick and easy but unsure of where to go.
"Apartment three-thirteen."
Without a confirming nod or anything, Hotch started walking down the corridor, heading towards the right apartment. Abby stepped into the hall and turned around the corner, her gun pointing in the direction her eyes went. Next to her, she felt and heard Morgan step past her and he also entered the hallway. A few feet away, she heard Hotch kick in the door and 'FBI!' quickly reverberated through the deserted corridor.
As she was about to turn and follow JJ, the last that had entered the hall and head towards the apartment, she heard something on the other side of the hall. She halted and waited, the beast inside of her risen and ready and alert. All her senses were set towards the other end of the white hall, her gun pointing at the ground but her hands dry and solid.
And there it was. The closing of a door. She knew she had heard something. Behind her, Morgan called out to her, but she didn't reply nor respond. A man dressed in a dark sweater and fading jeans walked away from the scene, his head bowed and his pace calm and steady. Images flashed before her eyes and words echoed in her ears.
"He can pick locks. He's short build and not very strong. You wouldn't notice him in a crowd, he doesn't stand out. He's average, not attractive, but not unattractive either. To the world he is usually shy and withdrawn."
It was him.
"FBI! Don't move!"
It was out before she realised it. It was a natural response, an action she had practiced in front of the mirror and put to use months later. Her gun went up as she spoke, she stepped into the hallway and positioned her feet properly, absentminded. Unaware.
The figure halted, hesitated, stopped. Morgan called out to her again and she heard him come out of the room. The person fifteen feet away from her looked at her shortly, then spun around on his heels and started running. Without a warning, without a call or shout, Abby went into pursuit. She called out to Hotch, heard someone follow her from behind. The only thing she could recall vividly before crashing into the door to the main staircase, was shouting out to Hotch again, hoping he would hear her.
Back inside the main staircase, Abby quickly spotted their possible UnSub and jumped down the stairs.
"Right behind you Scott!"
Morgan called out to her, assuring her of back-up. Now that she knew, she holstered her weapon and gave it all she had. She continued to jump down the short flight of stairs, her hands around the steel railing every time she landed to pull herself towards the next. She forgot all the details around her, her eyes were fixed on the man she was chasing. She saw him enter the hallway of the first floor and again, launched herself into the white door, the number 'one' looming up as she got closer, and she started running down the corridor, her reflection in the glass on her left blurry.
She noticed the corner, the hand that was on the wall seconds before, he was right there, she almost got him. As she turned, her feet seeking steadiness underneath her, her ankles turning, her legs shifting pressure, he doomed up before her. She crashed into a wall of darkness and met a new force that pushed her back hard. Before she really realised, her back hit the glass walls that overlooked the building's garden and entrance. She felt it break. And then she felt nothing at all for a couple of seconds.
Brutally, her body hit the stones, her left shoulder first to come in contact with. Pain shot through her body, stinging like thousands of knives were poking into the flesh and bones. The air was knocked out of her and she had to blink several times to see straight. Then she heard breaking glass and squeaking shoes. Their UnSub got away and Abby could only lay on the cold, stone pavement, unable to move.
"Abby?!"
Derek's voice was drenched in panic and fear. Vaguely, she could see him standing in the broken window frame. She hissed through her teeth and got a hold of herself.
"I'm okay."
Her voice cracked and didn't sound very convincing, hence she raised her right hand shortly and tried again.
"I'm okay."
---
09.20
Morgan was the first to come to her side, jumping down the broken frame of the first floor. Groaning, Abby got to her feet and immediately grabbed her shoulder. She felt a hand on her good shoulder and turned.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay."
She glanced over her shoulder to see any sign of the UnSub.
"Forget it. He's long gone. You got a look at him?"
Derek spoke as he checked her out. Carefully, he removed some glass from her clothes and cupped her face with one hand to look at the small gash on her cheek. Abby shook her head.
"No. It happened too fast, I didn't see a thing."
Both Morgan and Abby responded to the sound of an opened door. Prentiss approached them jogging, her face concerned and twisted with tension. Her eyes went over the broken glass, the gash on Abby's painful face.
"What the heck happened?"
"Bastard pushed me through the window. I'm fine though."
"He what?"
"Oh yeah."
"Well, are you okay?"
"I'm good. Don't worry, I'm fine."
"I'll call for another ambulance."
Abby quickly spun around to face Prentiss. She, however, was busy dialling nine-one-one for another ambulance. So she turned to Morgan and caught his apologetic expression.
"Another ambulance?"
"Donnely is still alive."
"He's what?"
"Hotch and Rossi are with him. Except for a couple of bruises, he should be fine."
She was too stunned to speak.
"Yeah, I know. Looks like he tried to drown Donnely several times in his bathtub."
Abby raised her eyebrows shortly, this job was full of surprises.
Ten minutes later, Hotchner had been brought up to date about Abby's flight through the air. She was sitting on the backside of the ambulance, a female paramedic carefully putting her left arm in a swing.
"Is that really necessary?"
The paramedic smiled at Abby's frown.
"New on the job?"
"Kinda."
"It's just precaution. But you might have broken your shoulder."
Abby rolled her eyes at herself, muttered some words under her breath that made the other, male, paramedic look up in surprise. She wasn't sure if it was because her choice of words or the thick British accent. She saw Hotch nod at Rossi and Morgan before he walked towards the young woman, followed by the ever handsome genius.
"How are you doing?"
Abby glared at Hotch but winched when the paramedic tied a knot in the sling behind her neck.
"I'm okay."
"Reid will go with you to the hospital. When you're done, report back at the police station."
She nodded once, avoiding eye contact with her new team leader.
"How'd you know it was him?"
This made her look up, if only to meet his eyes once and shortly. She shrugged with her right shoulder."Instinct. I knew something about that guy was off. When we were in the staircase, I could hear the sirens. That must have alerted him and he hid in one of the other apartments. He can pick locks. When he walked out shortly after you kicked in the door, his head down, hands tucked in the pockets of his sweater, I just figured. I wasn't really sure until he started running."
"Well, good job Scott."
"Thanks."
Hotch nodded once, professionally, strictly business, but patted her knee before leaving.
"We good to go?"
"Yeah."
Abby turned towards the blond paramedic and got up, waving away a helpful hand from Reid.
---
10.05
Abby sighed again. Damned doctors, they always took their time. She sat annoyed on the side of a hospital bed, Reid positioned in the chair next to her. Her left arm was still in a sling – the doctor insisted on it – and they had to cut open her dark grey blouse – something they also insisted on despite Abby's protests that she could take it off. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, only annoying Abby even more. It was a constant reminder that while she was sitting and waiting here, she could do other things. Better things.
"You should have stayed."
Reid looked up and smiled at her.
"They'll manage without me."
"Still-"
"Abby, Hotch told me to go with you. Direct order. Stop whining."
Abby looked at Reid flabbergasted, her eyes wide in shock and surprise. Just as she opened her mouth to retort a probable witty comment, Reid's phone rang.
She chased Reid with her eyes as he exited the room to answer the call. He left her sitting in the all too clean room, the sheets white enough to hurt her eyes, and she looked at the clock again. 10.34. She cursed again and ran her hand over her face. The doctor had cleaned the cut on her cheek and put a small gaze over it. She didn't even need stitches.
Abby heard Reid re-enter the room and she looked up at him.
"They find anything?"
"Donnely is okay. Couple of broken ribs, broken nose, a few bruises, but he'll live."
"Good for him."
"He confirmed that the UnSub tried to drown him several times. Every time he passed out, he woke up minutes later again."
"He did that for that long?"
"Yeah."
"That's a remarkable evolution."
"What do you mean?"
Reid looked at curiously and Abby begun explaining.|
"He starts craving pleasure from his torment. With the first vic, he was quick. Second vic he took a little longer, but to go from torturing a guy for two hours to keeping him alive to torture him for a whole night, that's a big escalation."
"He's taking more time for each victim."
"He's reaching his final goal."
"I'll call Hotch, we have to find his next target."
Abby jumped down from the bed and grabbed the remains of her blouse.
"No, call my doctor. Tell 'm I'll swing by later. Let's go."
Spencer moved to block Abby's way out. He crossed his arms before him once he stood in the opening of the door. She sighed heavily and placed her good hand on her hip.
"You have to be cleared. Besides, Hotch, will kill me."
She raised her eyes towards the ceiling and turned back into the room.
"Where'd you get the scar?"
"Which one?"
"The-"
The genius wanted to pick out the particular scar, but stopped once he saw Abby look.
"I got like fifty of them. So, pick one."
"The one on your shoulder."
"You mean the round one?"
"No. That's was a bullet wound, though, wasn't it."
"Yeah. One of my many war wounds."
"What about the long stretched one, above?"
"First case I worked for the FBI. Guy high on PCP pushed me against barbed wire."
"How'd he end up?"
"Not as pretty as before he jumped at my throat."
Reid smiled and Abby thought she saw a glance of admiration in his eyes. She was taken aback by Reid's reaction and fuddled with the sheets. As if he heard her prayers, the doctor entered the room, saving her from the, to her, uncomfortable silence.
"I've got good news, you're shoulder isn't broken. There is a very small hairline facture, but that should heal in a couple of days."
"Thank God."
"It's just badly bruised."
"Good to know, thanks doc."
"Put some ice on it once you get home, leave it in a sling for a couple of days. I'll prescribe you some painkillers. Although, I'm a bit worried about a concussion."
"I don't have a headache. Oh, and I don't need the painkillers. I got naproxen at home."
"Okay. But a fall like that, you've got a bump on the side of your head. I want you to be really careful."
"I know the drill. Thanks doc."
Abby shook his hand quickly and headed out the door. Reid smiled weakly and apologized before following his colleague, only to make her turn around again to sign the discharge papers under the soft embrace of Abby complaining.
---
11.10
Reid and Abby finally walked through the front doors of the police station and were greeted by busy cops that barely noticed them and the scent of fresh coffee. They quickly made their way to the room that had been dedicated to the case and Reid closed the door behind him once they had entered.
Morgan looked up from the chair he was sitting in and smiled broadly at the two figures.
"Look who it is, superwoman. How you doing?"
"I'm good Morgan, thanks."
"What did the doctor say?"
Abby turned to look at Hotch and smiled shyly.
"Reid's been a good puppy. I went for the run, he grabbed my ankles and pulled me back at my hair. It's not broken, badly bruised though. Doc says a couple weeks of vacation, sitting on a beach while sipping on my beer should cure it."
Hotch actually smiled and handed Abby the photo's of the crime scene.
"So you're good to go."
"Oh yeah. So, what have we got?"
"That's a nasty looking bruise though Scott, you sure you're okay?"
Rossi appeared next to her and studied the blue bump on the side of her forehead.
"Permanent brain damage, I'm afraid."
"So sad."
"Yeah."
"No doubt you and Reid got to the same conclusion; he's taking longer to torture his victims."
Abby and Reid locked eyes for a couple of seconds and they both nodded.
"He's reaching his final destination. That one bully he never got to."
"We'll have to find out who that is though, before we can do anything."
Prentiss nodded at Abby shortly and almost invisible when she sipped on her coffee. She sat down on the edge of the desk and looked at the file in her hand.
"We've called all the people that are on our lists. They are the only ones that were from the same class and still live in the neighbourhood."
Abby nodded and let her eyes flash over the pictures in her hand.
"Donnely saw anything?"
JJ shook her head at the youngest member and he greedy looked over Abby's shoulder to see the pictures.
"He says the UnSub wore a ski mask."
Reid frowned upon this detail and looked at Abby, whom was looking at the table.
She ran the event from this morning through her head. UnSub was in Donnely's apartment, wearing a black ski mask. He hears the sirens and makes a run for it. But instead of actually running, he breaks into the apartment on the other side of the hall, a few doors away. When he hears Hotch kick in the door, he makes his move, unaware that Abby stood there hearing him, and waiting for him. He walks away, controlled and composed, when he hears Abby call out. He turns, his eyes burn from behind the mask. Then, he turns and starts running.
Abby sighed and shook her head shortly. She rewound the scene and played it again. UnSub turns, his eyes burning, but his expression shocked and startled. He thought he'd get away with it. He was convinced his plan would work.
"He wasn't wearing a mask when I looked at him in the hallway."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Can't really describe him, though. He was shocked to find me there, calling out to him. Green-ish eyes. There was a large scar across his right eye."
"What if we get a sketch artist?"
"It's worth a shot, but that takes hours."
"We'll start interviewing our potential targets first. When the sketch artist arrives, you sit down with him."
"You got it."
"Prentiss, I want you to go to the hospital and interview Duncan Donnelly."
There was a tab on the window and Chief of police Miller stepped into the room, holding a stack of papers. His eyes went over Abby.
"You okay?"
"Peachy."
"Good to hear. Agent Hotchner, Ivan McKlaren, James Walsh and professor Hauren are here."
"Okay, thank you."
"You need any help?"
"Yeah, why don't you go with agent Morgan and talk to Ivan McKlaren."
The tall man nodded.
"Reid, you and JJ take James Walsh. I will talk to professor Hauren, Rossi and Scott will take whoever comes in next."
---
11.34
Rossi and Abby sat next to each other, leaning against the large round table in the room, sipping on coffee and watched the police department evolve itself. Officers were busy finishing up paperwork, two partners brought in a distraught hooker and a small group of cops had gathered around the coffee machine, animatedly talking.
"Can I ask you something?"
Abby let the slightly hot liquid in her mouth go down and she nodded before glancing towards the elder man sitting next to her.
"Shoot."
"You served in Iraq?"
She was a little startled to find the subject of their newly started conversation on a personal level, but bobbed her head up and down nonetheless.
"How long."
"Couple of months, before I was a trainings officer at West Point for four months and then went to Fort Lewis."
"West Point? Impressive."
"Nah, I wasn't that good. I was mostly training the trainings officers. Did my last tour in October in Iraq later that year and resigned."
"What did you do in Iraq?"
"I mostly served in Africa."
"Special Ops?"
Abby smiled.
"Rangers."
"Should have known."
"Let me guess, divorced twice. No, three times?"
Rossi returned the smile and nodded.
"You know, I tend to say I'm not cut out for marriage, but in the end, we're always cut out for it. Despite our best efforts to tell ourselves we're not. Along with the 'I'm not lonely, I have friends' line."
"How's the shoulder?"
"Still there."
Rossi sighed and looked at Abby. She took another sip from her coffee and her eyes searched for someone that would provide them some work, something to do.
"You know, I heard you call out to Hotch. Twice."
"I did?"
"Yeah."
"Well, he's the team leader, I needed to make sure someone had my back so I wouldn't be scoffed at when I caught the guy."
"You've worked with Morgan mostly."
"So?"
Now Rossi got her attention and she met his eyes.
"You called out to Hotch."
Rossi let Abby's mind be absorbed with thoughts. She stared down into the deep abyss of the cup she was holding. Small amounts of vapour lifted from the black liquid, watering Abby's eyes as she got too close. She wondered why Rossi pointed out that she called out to Hotch, twice. She didn't even know herself why she had. Or perhaps she did, but she was too stubborn to admit it. Slowly, she dissected her mind and thoughts, separating it piece by piece to be observed, studied from the darkness within.
A young man entered the room and called out to the two agents. Elle Tallis had arrived, another name on their list that now was given a face. Abby was easily pulled back from her deep thoughts and she and Rossi headed towards the front desk.
---
11.45
Elle Tallis was unlucky, as you could say. Abby's eyes went over her file and she imprinted what she read into her mind. When Elle was five, her mother died in a car crash. Elle's father got remarried two months later to a mother of two sons. When she was thirteen, she was arrested for vandalism and again three weeks later. It was then that it came to light that her oldest brother had been molesting her. Elle switched schools, gained over forty pounds and became depressed. At the age of sixteen, she weighted one-hundred-and-eighty pounds, just came out of the hospital after a suicide attempted and had developed a taste for burning herself.
The person sitting before Abby and Rossi, seemed shy and withdrawn. She was nervous, her hands shaky and her eyes everywhere around the room. Abby reckoned Elle Tallis started using again and she was in dire need of a fix.
"Elle Tallis, this is Agent Scott, I'm agent Rossi. Thank for you for coming in."
Tallis didn't reply, she glanced from Abby to Rossi several times before her eyes settled down on Rossi, whom was first to sit down. Abby positioned herself leaning against the desk Elle and Rossi were sitting at, her right arm still in the burning white sling.
"They said you were looking for a killer."
"That's right."
"So, is there like a reward if I tell you who it is?"
"Do you know who it is?"
Elle shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know who you're looking for."
"The man we're looking for killer three of your former classmates. He was probably in the same class as you. He was picked on, a lot. Short built, shy."
The big woman snorted.
"That has to be Luke. Luke and I were the amusement of our oh so perfect classmates."
"Luke who?"
"Luke Padov."
"Do you know where he is now?"
"Listen, about that reward?"
Rossi raised his elbows on his knees as he folded his hands and looked at Elle firm and steady. Elle, on her turn, leant back, trying to create as much distance between her and the threatening FBI agent.
"I don't think there is a reward, Elle. The only reward given here, is that you can help us put a murderer behind bars."
Her eyes flashed around the room again, she licked her lips and tried to dry her sweaty hands on her dirty jeans.
"Listen, Elle."
Abby now stepped forward and squatted down next to Elle.
"Luke, assuming that he is the man we are looking for, he's done some very bad things. But, we believe that he does those things to the people that hurt him. Can you tell me what your old classmates did to him?"
Elle laughed, it was a hollow and lifeless sound, just like her eyes.
"Many people did horrible things to us. You're gonna have to be a little more specific here."
"Okay, let's start with Mark McCunning."
"Mark made it a habit to put out his cigarettes on him. Much to everyone else's amusement."
"And Glenn Harris? I think you know him, what did he do to Luke?"
Elle had responded to the name. She looked down at her fiddling hands and the speed of her breathing went up. Abby picked up on this change of behavior and decided to throw it into the conversation.
"He's your dealer, isn't he?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"What did he do?"
"What everybody else did. He called him names, kicked him, hit him."
"He ever knocked out a couple of Luke's teeth."
"Yeah."
"And did Duncan Donnelly ever try to drown Luke?"
Elle remained silent now, staring at Abby with fear in her eyes.
"I'm not going to tell you where he is."
"I know, Elle. I know that you won't. Just so you know, I don't think you ever did anything to stop it. I think you let it happen, glad that you, for once, weren't the one being teased, picked on, hurt. Question is, how long are you going to live with that? How long are you going to live with the fact that you are partly responsible for those murders just like you are partly responsible for the hurt Luke experienced in college?"
Abby put down the pictures of the three victims before she lifted herself up and walked away. Rossi was close behind and the headed back towards the room.
"A little too aggressive. You might have shut her down. But good call. Nice try."
"Too aggressive?"
"You got hard too fast, you closed with distance too fast. You should have left out the last part, about being partly responsible for picking on him. Work on that."
"Thanks."
"I'll call Garcia to see if she got an address for that name."
Morgan appeared around the corner of the doorpost and his eyes searched for familiar faces.
"Where's the rest? We've got an address."
Abby and Rossi shared a moment of eye contact and jumped into action.
Hotch, JJ and Reid were quickly pulled away from their interviews and known information was shared. They all got one name: Luke Padov. Ivan McKlaren was eager to give him up, adding that Luke was a real freak. He didn't doubt for a second that Padov was innocent and quickly gave his address. He still lived in Raleigh, Prentiss was called and directed towards seventeen Oakwood Avenue.
---
"But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself is his own dungeon."
John Milton