Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.

Full Circle
Part 8

By N. J. Borba

Talking to Jared Hopkins earlier in the day hadn't yielded the team any leads. And the profile they delivered to the Seattle, and surrounding area, police had felt stilled, to say the least. Now, as Morgan and Hotch stood in the open doorway of the Meyer-Brennan home, they were both hoping for a major break in the case. The house's exterior was a classic Tudor design and probably recently remodeled from what Derek could tell. Situated high upon the north Queen Anne Hill neighborhood, the downtown skyline was clearly visible from their front yard. Under a cover of darkness, skyscrapers sparkled like stars, dotted here and there by interior lights. Derek guessed they were paying for location as well as the fancy house.

A short, pale woman stood in front of them, guarding the door with hands on her hips. "Mr. and Mrs. Meyer are not here," her tone was abrupt. "They had a work function to attend tonight. I don't expect them back for hours," she explained.

"Can we wait for them?" Hotch asked.

The woman frowned, causing deep lines to crease the sides of her pursed mouth. "If you wish," she finally relented and let them pass. The rustle of her skirt guided them into the formal sitting room to the left of the entry. "You can wait here."

With the housekeeper gone they glanced around the space, trying to glean information about the Meyer's from the things they surrounded themselves with. The room was large with a vaulted ceiling and double-story windows. There were expensive vases with fresh flowers and artwork that looked like it was worth more than either of them made in a year. The Meyer's had money and were proud to show it off, but there was an intimate feel to the room as well, not like the Kupfer place had been. A colorful quilt was draped over the back of a green sofa. And an antique piano resided in the far right corner with framed pictures positioned atop it. Pictures always made a house a home. Derek recalled all the photos Emily had in her house of Beth. That thought caused a bittersweet smile to settle upon his lips as he continued to profile the space.

"Who the hell are you guys?"

Hotch and Derek turned toward the male voice. A young man stood under the room's entryway arch. He was tall, fair-haired and muscular. His hair hung in his eyes and he was dressed in black jeans, a dark green t-shirt and leather jacket. Boots and black leather gloves rounded out his appearance. "Do you live here?" Hotch asked.

"Hell yeah," the boy answered. "Who are you?" he asked again.

Derek flashed his badge. "We're with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit," he announced, giving the kid their names as well.

"Shit, what'd the old man do this time?"

Morgan frowned at that comment. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Travis Meyer."

"Travis, has your father been in trouble with the law before?" Hotch inquired.

The kid wore a mysterious little smirk. "Nah, not really," he replied. "But, dude's a lawyer, you know? There's always cops and shit showing up at the house wanting to talk to him about a case. He defends some real assholes if you ask me. Not that anyone around here asks me much."

"Where've you been tonight?" Derek pressed on.

The boy leaned against the wood framed entryway. "Out," he crossed his arms.

Derek looked over his attire again. "And the gloves... you ride a motorcycle?"

"It's a Harley, VRSC series," Travis perked up, dropping his arms to his sides. "Got it as a gift for my High School graduation. Sometimes it's nice to have loaded parents who'd rather shove money and gifts at you than take the time to talk. I've never been much for talking anyhow."

"That's a hell of a nice bike," Derek was impressed. "How old are you?"

Travis grinned. "Am I on trial now?"

Morgan shook his head. "Just curious. Seems to me like maybe you should be in college, freshman year living in the dorms?"

"I'm nineteen, for the record," Travis informed them. "And I'm taking a year off to chill before I head down to school in California this fall."

Hotch picked up a small figurine and examined it. "Are you planning to study law, like your folks?"

"Hell no," the young man snarled. "I think I'll happily leave that to the first-born heir of this dysfunctional family. No, I'm headed to UC San Diego and I plan to major in three things; surfing, drinking and girls."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Have any idea when your folks will be home," he asked.

"They don't ask me much, don't tell me much either," Travis held up a hand and waved as he took a step backward. "Have a good time snooping around the joint."

The boy was well out of hearing range before Morgan made any comment, and then it was just one word. "Punk," he muttered.

"You think that's all it is?" Hotch questioned. "The kid's obviously got a pretty big chip on his shoulder. He could have reason to hurt the woman his father was having an affair with," he proposed. "Did you notice how he talked about his father defending creeps, but not his mother? They both work in criminal law, but maybe he favors his mother over his father. Could be that he's upset his father cheated on her."

Morgan shrugged at the possibility. "And why would he want to hurt Emily?"

"Maybe killing Lauren Kupfer wasn't enough to assuage his anger. So he directed that rage toward Emily for her part in messing with his family. I don't know, I could be reaching with all of this," Hotch admitted.

"We all are," Derek sighed.

Hotch nodded, knowing that their twenty-four hour mark had passed and they weren't much closer to finding Emily than when they'd landed that afternoon. "Should we stick around here and wait?"

"I've got nothing better to do. You?"

"You're sure you don't want to get back to Beth?"

Derek's heart seized a little every time he thought about the little girl and how upset she'd seemed earlier, missing her mama. "Silvia called me just before we headed up here. She said Emily's parents made it in safe. They all had dinner with Beth and put her to bed. She's asleep now, and Emily's parents are probably tired, so there's no reason for me to rush back there. And I'd rather keep rolling with this case."

"Okay," Hotch agreed, though he had a good feeling Derek was avoiding Emily's parents.

It was just after eleven o'clock when Charles Meyer arrived home, stumbling in to his house half drunk. He didn't seem overly shocked to find two FBI agents waiting for him; just sat down and listened as they began to fire off questions at him. "Did I love Lauren Kupfer?" he laughed loudly at that. "There was no love between us, but she was a hell-cat in the sack." He sat forward a little. "Did you know that sex with your wife after twenty-odd years of marriage is about as fun as watching paint dry." His obnoxious laugh clapped through the room again, like a distant thunder storm brewing.

"You know that Lauren is dead?" Hotch asked, trying to be patient with the obviously inebriated man. He kind of hoped his condition might work to their advantage.

"Sure, cops showed up at the office and asked questions all around," Meyer didn't seem fazed by the question or upset over her death. "Damn shame. She wasn't a half bad assistant, but better in bed," he chuckled.

Morgan could almost imagine his fist connecting with the man's jaw. "Were the two of you still together at the time of her disappearance?"

"Nope. Look, I already told the police all this. I'm sorry she had to die, but what can you do?"

Hotch was sick of dancing around the issue. He decided to stop pulling his punches, partially because they were running out of time, but mostly because Charles Meyer was an obvious asshole who didn't deserve their respect. "Did Lauren do something to upset you? Was it all an accident, how she died? You can tell us if it was an accident. Maybe you got into an argument and you ended up hurting her without meaning to," he attempted to set up a scenario for Meyer to confess to.

"I didn't kill Lauren. Are you crazy?" he stared at Hotch with half-mast eyes. "I called things off with her the second my wife's stupid PI woman found out about the affair. Because I knew that evidence was going to cost me a small fortune in the divorce."

Derek clenched his teeth at Meyer's mention of a stupid PI woman. "Do you know Emily Stewart?"

"The bitch who snooped around in my business?" there was venom in his tone as he shook his head. "Not personally, but I wouldn't mind giving her a piece of my mind."

"Maybe you already have?" Hotch asked. "Did you take her somewhere to... I don't know, teach her a lesson? Maybe a little payback for telling your wife about the affair?"

"What the hell?" Meyer was suddenly looking a lot more sober. "No, I..."

"Mr. Meyer, Emily Stewart has been missing since yesterday. Her car was broken in to up in Everett and there was blood at the scene. She's been abducted. And it's all looking very similar to what happened to Lauren Kupfer a few weeks ago. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you? Because if she turns up dead, we'll be back here again banging down your door," Derek promised.

The man's blood-shot eyes grew wider by the second. "Shit," he swore. "No way... I didn't hurt anyone, let alone kill them. I may defend the scum of the earth, even money-rape them for all they've got, but murder... you've got the wrong guy. I have an alibi too."

"Where is your wife tonight, Mr. Meyer?" Hotch re-directed the questioning, even though he found it suspect the way Meyer had jumped on telling them he had an alibi. But he figured they could check out any supposed alibis later. "Your housekeeper said that the two of you were at some function tonight, but I didn't see her walk in with you. So, where is she?"

"How should I know?" Meyer replied, seeming a little more cooperative. "We went to the office function, but not together. And we didn't leave together either. You might try searching my former best friend, Craig Zingler's house out on Mercer Island," he suggested. "She's been screwing around with him behind my back a lot longer than I've ever been unfaithful to her. All of this private investigator crap was just her way of assuring that she'd get a good settlement in the divorce. If I could prove her infidelity I'd throw her to the wolves."

Morgan wanted to wipe his hands of the whole damn case at that particular moment. He'd never heard about more people cheating on one another in a single day than he had the last ten hours or so. Of course, then he had to look his own demons square in the eye. The demons that reminded him about what he'd done to Tamara by being with Emily that one night. He still felt sick to his stomach about hurting both of them. But he couldn't walk away from the case, because Emily was still missing. And he wasn't ready to give up on her.

Hotch was done with the man too and they both left, happy to step out into the cool night air. It beat the heck out of the sticky atmosphere inside the Meyer home. "What the hell is wrong with the world?" Derek exhaled heavily as they climbed into the SUV.

Hotch sighed, settling into the driver's seat. "You really looking for an answer to that question?" He glanced over and saw Derek shake his head then lean it against the back of the seat. "I'm going to head back to the field office and send JJ and Rossi to the hotel to get some sleep. Maybe I'll see if Reid wants to go over a few things with me again tonight. But first, I'm dropping you at Emily's place. You need to get some rest, and you need to be there in the morning when your daughter wakes up," he ordered.

For once, Derek made no arguments to the contrary.

xxx

It was quiet and warm as he laid there letting the last remains of sleep float away. Morgan opened his eyes and regarded his quilt covered body. He'd slunk into Emily's house just after midnight, hadn't bothered turning on any lights, kicked off his shoes and had fallen into a heap on her sofa. The sleep had been fitful, but somewhat restful as well. However, Derek was confident that he'd only had a small afghan to cover up with last night. Now a blue and white quilt stared back at him and he had no idea who'd covered him up. But the smell of coffee and bacon stirred him from any further thoughts of that unimportant mystery. Derek pushed the quilt back, swung his legs over the side of the sofa and got to his feet.

Emily's kitchen was occupied by just one person; her mother, dressed in a robe and slippers. Derek suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. He also couldn't help wondering if she'd been the one to cover him up. It certainly seemed like a very motherly thing to do. Morgan recalled meeting the woman once before, when she'd brought a case to them. They hadn't interacted much then, and he'd always sensed that Emily's relationship with her parents was tenuous. But Morgan spotted something outside that led him to believe his daughter's birth might have been a catalyst for changing the Prentiss family dynamic, for the better.

He watched Beth smile contentedly in her swing as a tall man stood behind her, pushing. "She'd stay out there all day if she could," Elizabeth Prentiss spoke, letting him know she'd sensed his presence behind her.

"That's what Emily says," Derek replied.

The woman turned around to face him. "We thought having her play outside this morning would help keep the house quiet for you. I imagine it was a late night. Would you like some coffee?" she offered, holding a full mug out to him.

"Thanks," Morgan took the offering but glanced out the window again. "Maybe I should check on her?" he inched toward the back door.

"Why don't you eat something first," Elizabeth suggested.

Morgan was just about to protest when his stomach betrayed him, letting free a large growl. He realized then that he hadn't eaten since breakfast the morning before, just before Silvia had called and brought the world down on his shoulders. Derek relented and sat at the table while Emily's mother, an ambassador who'd traveled and lived all over the world, served him bacon and eggs. It felt a little surreal. "This is good," he remarked after swallowing a few bites.

"I do cook, occasionally," the woman smiled softly. Her mood took a sudden down-shift after that, though. "Are you going to find her?"

Derek sat up straighter, abandoning his food for a moment. Her voice had cut through him like a knife; the vulnerability a sharp contrast to the strong woman that she presented to the world. But, when it came to one's children, it seemed every parent was subject to feeling helpless at some point. That was something he'd been quickly learning. "Yes," he replied with utmost certainty.

She relaxed a little to hear his answer, even if it was false hope. "We don't hate you, if that's what you're thinking," Elizabeth told him a few moments later once he'd resumed eating. "I know that we avoided your calls after Emily left the BAU, but she asked us not to talk to you. I'm not saying it was the right thing to do, but, as a parent you just try to do your best to love and protect your children."

"I guess I can understand that," Derek replied, trying not to make any snap judgments.

"We want to protect Beth, too," she let him know. "I'm not sure if she's in danger because of all this. But there's been some media coverage already," Elizabeth handed him the local morning paper. "And I'd rather she not be exposed to that mess. We want to take her back to DC with us today."

Morgan stopped eating again, pushing his plate away. His first instinct was to object, but Derek clamped down that reflex as he read the short story on Emily's disappearance and the possible connection to Lauren Kupfer's case. He found himself slowly nodding in agreement. "JJ has tried to keep the media's actions to a minimum on this, but..." As much as he hated the thought of his daughter being so far away again, he'd feel better knowing she was out of harm's way. And he'd be able to fully concentrate on Emily. "Maybe it would be for the best. If you're sure, I know you just got back from France and then the flight out here..."

"We've flown so much in our lives, its really not an issue. And we've traveled with Emily and Beth before. Bethy is a great traveler. I think she'll be fine," Elizabeth declared. "But, I want you to know we're not trying to take her away from you. If, God forbid..." she gulped down her fear. "If something where to happen to Emily, Beth would go to you. It's in Emily's Will. And we rather like being grandparents, we get to spoil her and then hand her back," she smiled.

Derek was surprised to hear about Emily's Will, though thankful too. And the ambassador's words also made him think about his mother, how he hadn't even told her about being a grandparent yet. With everything that was going on, he hadn't had time to call her and properly explain things. His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the back door. As the tall man entered, Derek noted that Emily resembled her mother much more. Yet he saw hints of his daughter in the man's features. Morgan watched as he gently let his hand rest against his wife's back while kissing her cheek. Derek recalled his conversation with JJ and Reid the day before, when he hadn't been sure how happily married Emily's parents were. They certainly seemed amiable enough, though he had to wonder if recent circumstances were playing a role in their current closeness. He knew the last few days had put things in perspective for him, like the fact that very little mattered at the moment other than finding Emily alive.

The man took one look at Derek, strode across the room and thrust his hand in front of Morgan with forceful ease. "I'm Joseph, Emily's father," he introduced himself.

Morgan shook, giving his full name, "Derek Morgan."

"Yes, I figured as much. Beth has your eyes, albeit a smaller version," Joseph grinned. "Speaking of which..." he pointed over his shoulder. "That little princess outside has been asking for her daddy since she woke up. As long as I keep pushing the swing, she's pretty content, but I'm still no stand-in for the real deal." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I understand that you'll want to be getting back to Emily's case, and I can't thank you enough for coming out here. There's nothing I'd like more right now than to wrap my arms around my own little princess, but I really think you ought to spend a few minutes with your daughter this morning," he concluded.

Derek didn't need any prodding as he easily took the older man's advice. He walked outside and let his bare feet slap against the lightly dew-covered grass. The weather was actually much warmer than it had been over the weekend. Sun was already happily shinning down from a blue sky, and Derek grinned when his daughter's eyes shinned just as brightly to see him. "Good morning, sweetheart," he kissed her cheek and then stood behind her and pushed the swing. Every time she neared him, Beth craned her neck backward to look up at him. And Derek leaned forward to blow her kisses.

Father and daughter enjoyed the morning air for a half hour before the back door opened and the rest of the BAU team tromped out to meet them beneath the large oak tree. "Hi, weed," Beth greeted the one person in the group she remembered.

Spencer Reid's cheeks flushed a few different shades of red. "Actually," he stooped down, closer to where the girl was. "It's Reid. With an R," he tried to explain. "You see, a weed is a type of plant that's considered undesirable or troublesome. They grow were they're not wanted. Also, it's used as a slang term for mar... "

JJ gently smacked the back of his head. "She's two years old."

The doctor shrugged indifferently as his eyes remained focused on the child. "Or you could try, Uncle Spencer," he prompted the girl.

"Unca Spacey!" Beth exclaimed.

"Oh, I agree," Rossi chuckled. "That's much better than weed."

Even Hotch cracked a smile at that. Standing there watching Derek push his daughter in a swing, it was easy to forget that Emily's life was in grave danger. But every second she remained missing was another second closer to her possible dead. That realization brought everything back into perspective for the team leader. "We still have no solid evidence, but I keep coming back to Charles Meyer being involved in this." With nodding heads all around, he broke down their orders. "Dave and I will shadow Meyer. JJ and Reid, I want you to talk with Louise Brennan. It seems she's not quite the innocent player in all this that we originally thought. That is if we can trust anything that came out of Meyer's drunken mouth last night."

"I've also been thinking more about what you said in regards to Travis Meyer last night," Derek spoke up. "I think we should keep an eye on him, too. I could handle that on my own," he offered.

"Actually," Hotch countered. "Emily's parents just told us they're taking Beth to DC with them today. I think you should go with them," he told Derek.

The suggestion didn't bother Morgan, but he had no intention of proceeding in that manner. "I agree with them that it will be good for Beth to be out of harm's way, but I'm not leaving until I find Emily," he let his boss know.

"Don't you think she needs her father right now?" Hotch asked as the others stayed silent.

Derek remained perfectly calm, still pushing his daughter back and forth. "What she really needs right now is to have her mother back, and I'm going to make that a reality for her. Do not try to fight me on this, Hotch. You won't win," he maintained his stance.

Hotch could see the solid determination in Derek's eyes. He admired it, but at the same time it scared the Unit Chief. Because it reminded him way too much of himself when Foyet had taken Haley and Jack. He understood the kind of mad rage that ensued when your loved ones were in danger. Hotch wished he could protect Derek from that, but he knew he couldn't. "Make sure that Beth and Emily's parents get away safely. Then you can keep an eye on Travis Meyer." He addressed the whole team after that, though his message was more for Morgan's sake than the others. "Let's be sure to keep in close contact at all times today."

To Be Continued...