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

Full Circle
Part 9

By N. J. Borba

Several layers of duct tape were cutting off the circulation in her wrists and ankles as she once more attempted to use the sun to determine what time of day it was. She was thankful for all those summers spent in the French Alps with her grandfather who'd taught her some basic survival techniques. Emily guessed it was mid-afternoon again and wondered if there was a reason for that. Maybe it coincided with a time that was convenient for her abductors. Which lead her to start pondering if they had jobs or other pressing business that kept them to a schedule. She hadn't slept that well on the cold concrete floor, but the sleep she had gotten was making her head feel much clearer. Which made trying to figure out what was going on far less confusing. Emily found herself re-thinking some matters all together. Like her previous guess about Charles Meyer being the one holding her captive.

The two young men had restrained her to the chair again, but for a while there was no shadowy figure behind the screen. Now, as she carefully listened to the approaching footsteps, Emily further reevaluated her prior assumptions. The steps were different than the ones she'd heard earlier as the thugs had drug her from the room out into their make-shift courtroom. Theirs had been thudding boot clomps. But the ones she heard now were a softer clicking sound; lighter footfalls. Almost more like a woman in high heels. Her heart jumped into her throat at that realization. It changed a lot of things in the profile she'd been working on in her head. A single male UnSub would be less likely to have bailiffs helping him out. But a woman might certainly need such help for keeping a prisoner subdued.

"You're not Charles Meyer. I was wrong," Emily made a preemptive strike.

A few minutes later the voice finally replied. "You're not to speak unless spoken to."

"You could be Louise Brennan?" Emily mussed, pressing on despite the warning that had just been made. "You certainly seem to know the law."

"Who I am is not important."

Emily thought the mechanical voice almost sounded worried. And the issue was important. It actually mattered a great deal to her. "I don't think that's right either, is it?" she posed her words as a question, but left no pause for a reply. "You stated before that you're upset about your family falling apart, and also that Louise would have been better off not knowing the truth. So, you being Louise doesn't make much sense. Unless you were trying to throw me off track. In which case I have to wonder if you, Louise, really do care about your family or not?"

"Of course Louise Brennan cares about her family," the voice grew defensive. "She loves her husband. And she loves her children. She never wanted her family destroyed."

"Children." That word instantly got stuck in Emily's head and wouldn't let go. She was finally starting to get somewhere and it made much more sense than either of her two other guesses. "That's it, isn't it? You're not Charles or Louise, you're their child," Emily declared. "I understand that you're upset. You feel like your family will never be the same again after what your father did, but..."

"You don't know how I feel!" the voice shouted. "Stop trying to be sympathetic. Stop trying to figure things out!"

Emily knew she'd hit a nerve. She couldn't let the conversation end either, she needed to try another tactic. "I have a child," Emily blurted out. She was somewhat afraid that her captors might try to use the information to find Beth and hold her as a pawn. But greater than that fear, Emily believed Derek was with Beth and she knew he'd never let anything happen to the girl. "I have a daughter," Emily continued, following a hunch. "She's just two years old. And she's probably scared and confused by all of this, wondering where her mama is."

"I already knew you had a daughter." The voice sounded proud. "I know more about you than you realize. Lawyers are good at research too, not just PIs."

Worry filled Emily's mind again, but she had to keep believing that Beth was safe. And she had to keep trying to find some way to break through. "You were upset about what your father did to your mother and it led you to make a mistake. But if you admit your mistake, if you help right this wrong and let me go free, then I'll speak on your behalf. I think the police will be lenient. I can talk to them, help them understand that what happened was just..."

"It's too late for all of that," the voice stopped her, settled and calm again. "Lauren Kupfer is dead. The police won't be lenient about that."

A rush of panic pooled in Emily's stomach as she finally came to realize just what she was up against. "Did you kill her?"

"I had no choice. She hurt my family. And if you're found guilty of hurting my family as a result of your actions, then you'll have to die too."

xxx

Derek glanced out the windshield of his SUV again, making sure Travis Meyer's bike hadn't moved since the last time he'd checked ten minutes ago. He was parked along the tree-lined residential street, just a few houses down the block from where Travis had arrived over three hours ago. The kid had been greeted at the door by a young woman and they'd disappeared inside the house not to be seen again since. Thanks to Garcia's quick sleuthing, they knew the girl's name and that her parents were on a week-long trip to Hawaii. Morgan aimed his attention back to the cell phone perched on the dash. "What do you think they've been doing in there all this time?"

"Oh, my lovely..." Garcia chuckled softly. "If you can't make an educated guess about that, maybe your profiler instincts are a little rusty. Or perhaps it's just been way too long since you've used that chiseled body for anything other than..."

"Alright, alright..." Morgan stopped her short. "I think I get the idea," he shook his head. "I guess I just really worked myself into believing that this kid might be a lead, because we seem to be going nowhere else fast. And sitting on my ass makes me feel completely useless," he lamented. "So, what about you? Is there anything else in Emily's files that might be helpful?"

"Well, I just found another lost dog case. That must make at least three dozen. Do you know if there's much money to be made from finding lost dogs?" she wondered aloud, before rattling off some of Emily's notes on the case. "German Shepherd and owner happily reunited. The owner also invited me to a welcome home party for the dog, and maybe I've turned into a big softy since becoming a parent, but I took Beth to the dog's party. And we actually had a really good time."

Morgan smiled for a moment at the images those words conjured up. But he felt something snap inside a second later. Suddenly, the only thought stuck in his head was that clichéd saying about not knowing what you've got until its gone. It was coupled by the fact that he'd said good-bye to his little girl at the airport earlier in the day. And it seemed like he'd said far too many good-byes to her in just a short period of time. "Damn-it, Garcia!" he hit the steering wheel with the palms of his hands. "We passed the thirty-six hour mark and are coming up real quickly on forty-eight. And all we've got right now is some horny kid and stupid lost dogs!"

"Hey, no, no..." Garcia could hear the mix of frustration and sorrow creeping in to his voice. "Don't go there, okay?"

But it was already too late. "I can not tell my two year old daughter that her mother's dead." Derek sucked in a breath as he tried to steady his voice. "I can't do that, Penelope. I can't tell her that the last words I ever said to Emily were horrible lies spoken in the heat of an argument. Or that I never got to apologize. I can't tell Beth that her mother died thinking I..."

"Derek, please don't do this..." the woman felt tears prick her eyes as she tried to steer him away from the dark place his mind had slipped to. She'd actually been expecting a melt down, but she hadn't anticipated how much it would break her heart. "Hey, just tell me one thing right now... do you really believe Emily is dead?"

It only took him a second to answer. "No, I don't."

"Good," Penelope knew it wasn't a lost cause. "Then I will stick with you on this until the sun explodes if that's how long it takes us to find her. In three years time, did I ever once tell you it was stupid or futile to keep searching for Emily?"

He wore a small smile now as the darkness receded a little. "No, even though Kevin probably wanted to strangle me a few times."

"Oh, darling... it was way more than a few," Garcia corrected her dear friend. "But he loves me, and there's a lot of room for forgiveness in love. Now, let's both put our brilliant minds back in this and find Emily."

Derek took several deep breaths. He knew for a fact he'd be lost without Penelope Garcia at his back. "Okay, Hotch seems pretty convinced that this is all connected to the Meyer family or that law firm in some way. And I trust his instincts, so..." he started to conjure up some more productive thoughts. "We've got Charles Meyer who seems like the most likely candidate to be our bad guy. But he doesn't strike me as the type to do his own dirty work. However, he has access to some of societies worst scumbags, plus he's got money..."

"Plenty enough to pay someone to do the dirty work for him," she followed his line of thought.

"Exactly." Derek agreed.

"Okay then," Garcia dove in to the new search criteria. "Accessing bank records to see if he's made any sizable withdrawals from... wow, okay... this guy's got a lot of money. Accounts are popping up all over the place. I don't know, but it doesn't seem to me like even private practice will get you moola like this," she kept up a running dialogue as she searched. "Aha! It looks like Meyer inherited family money, a whole heaping bunch of it. And he's been a good little investor too... he's got stocks, real estate, several CDs..."

"Try checking joint accounts with his wife and even any that she might have opened on her own," Derek suggested as another thought came to mind. "Somehow, I wouldn't put it past this guy to try and frame his wife for what happened to Lauren Kupfer. He is not a happily married man, and he thinks his wife hired Emily in order to get more money out of him in a divorce."

"Alright-y... there are a few joint accounts; savings and credit, there are also two expense credit accounts for the firm, and another private account in her maiden name. Nothing unusual is coming up on Meyer's end. And I'm not finding any activity anywhere that seems out of the ordinary for Louise Brannan. Unless you consider three-hundred dollar shoes out of the ordinary. Personally, I consider that deliciously decadent retail-therapy. I mean, if you can afford it, what the hell."

Morgan sighed. "Come on, Garcia, find me something useful. Check Travis Meyer's financial history too."

"Certainly..." her fingers danced over the keys again for several minutes. "Well, it looks like he has a whopping two hundred dollars in a checking account. He's also got a massive trust fund, but won't be granted access to that fortune until age twenty-one," she reported.

Derek let out a frustrated groan. "Then we've got to be missing something big here," he closed his eyes for a second and tried to jump-start his mind again. "Meyer and Brennan... both work for a law firm... obviously know the ins and outs of criminal law... could probably circumnavigate it in their sleep..." None of that was helping much, except that it did finally jostle a small memory of something Travis had said the night before, when Hotch had asked if he was going to follow in his parent's footsteps and study law. I think I'll happily leave that to the first-born heir of this dysfunctional family. Derek's eyes snapped open again. "Garcia, who is the Meyer's eldest child?

"You mean the unlikely preemie?" she made short work of finding that answer for him. "Her name is Teresa."

"Her?" Derek's heart pounded a little faster as he pondered the possibility and quickly re-worked the profile in his head. "Who might be the most upset about a guy messing around on his wife, aside from the wife? Who would be most affected by that upheaval in their family life?"

"Their children?" she guessed.

"Yes," Morgan nodded to himself. "And Travis Meyer is definitely carrying around some serious animosity toward his parents. But the more I think about it... surfing, drinking and girls," he recalled the boy's three planned college majors. "Taking a year off to chill... it seems more like he's just trying to escape all the craziness of his family life," Derek concluded. "Give me everything you've got on Teresa Meyer."

"Okie-dokie..." Penelope dutifully went back to digging. "She is... twenty-three years old. According to her driver's license she's five foot six inches tall, one-hundred and thirty pounds with blonde hair and blue eyes. Very pretty girl who looks a lot like her dad. She graduated from the University of Washington with honors last spring, earning two bachelor degrees in History and Political Science. The girl doesn't seem to have gotten anything below an A- in her entire school history going back as far as the first grade. There's actually very little she's interested in other than school and good grades. Plus she's got awards up the yin-yang to prove it. Ms. perfect-student is currently in her first year of law school at Seattle University, clearly following in her parents footsteps. Lives in a house about six blocks from the SU campus with two roommates, Amy Downing and Kyle Collins. House is owned by her parents."

"What about her finances?" Derek further prodded.

"Teresa's checking account is about as measly as her brother's, but it seems that mommy and daddy are paying for all school expenses, so I guess that tracks. And there's no evidence that any major withdrawals have been made recently. She also has one credit card with a current balance of $52.50 on it from a purchase at the campus book store." Garcia then hunted down one more thing she was sure she'd find. "Gotcha... Teresa also has a very hefty trust fund like Travis, but she gained access to it two years ago. And you're not going to like this... four weeks ago she removed ten thousands dollars from that account. Three days ago, another ten grand was withdrawn."

Derek felt the fingers of his right hand twitch in anticipation of starting the SUV and finally following a solid lead. "So, if her parents are paying for school and she doesn't seem to have any life outside of school... where's that money going?"

"Probably not anywhere we're going to like, unless she has even more expensive taste in shoes than her mother," Garcia replied. "I'm sending her address to your cell as I speak."

"Good." He sat up and turned the key in the ignition. "Do you have a recent update on where everyone is?"

"Yes I do... JJ and Reid are back at the field office with Casey," she began. "They're still checking out alibis for Louise Brennan, Craig Zingler, and some of the others at the law firm. Hotch and Rossi are sticking close to Charles Meyer and, at last check, they were waiting for him outside a building in Bellevue where we know he was meeting a client. Bellevue is way the heck to your east with a bunch of water in between. So you are definitely the closest to Teresa's address. Should I contact JJ and Reid, have them meet you there?"

"Yeah, that'd probably be best," he agreed. "After what happened this morning, I'd rather not have Hotch accuse me of being the lone ranger."

"Playing it safe?" Penelope questioned. "I think maybe becoming a parent has made you soft too."

"Never," Derek denied with a chuckle, even though he knew his thoughts had barely stopped dwelling on Beth all day since she'd left. He was finding out that having a child really did change all of your priorities in life. "Hey, thanks for all your help, girl. I couldn't have done it without you."

"I know," she shot back. "Keep in touch and be safe."

"Always. I'll talk to you soon." Morgan signed off, pulled a tight u-turn and sped toward his destination a few blocks away.

xxx

Teresa's house was a two-story hip-roofed structure, dark green with white trim and a white-washed front porch that spanned the entire width of the facade. Morgan leapt from his vehicle and kept one hand against the gun at his side as he crossed the short distance from curb to front door. He peeked inside the living room window to the left of the door. The curtains were wide open and he noted the sparse interior decor, but couldn't spot anyone mulling about inside. The old single-pane glass window was rattling softly, though, which led him to believe that somewhere within the house music was being played at a rather high volume. Derek knocked on the door. A few seconds later he pounded much louder, hoping to be heard over the sound of the music.

Another couple of minutes later the front door finally swung open and a young man in a pair of hastily fastened jeans and no shirt stared back at him. "Are you Kyle Collins?" Derek inquired, recalling the male roommate's name. The thump of the music grew nearly twice as loud with the door opened.

"Nope," the dark-haired boy answered.

"Do you live here?" Morgan wondered if he or Garcia hadn't gotten the address wrong.

"Nope."

Morgan sighed. "What's your name, son?" He was not in the mood to deal with stupid college kids.

"Seth."

"Seth, if you don't live here what are you doing here?"

"Nothing."

Derek was about ready to throttle the one-answer wonder when someone else came bounding down the stairs. It was a young woman dressed in pajama shorts and a tank top. She had shoulder length blonde hair, but Morgan noticed her eyes looked more green than blue. Still he had to ask, "Are you Teresa Meyer?"

The girl shook her head. "No, sir. My name is Amy Downing, this is my boyfriend Seth Thompson. Teresa's my roommate. What can I do for you?"

He was thankful of her much friendlier and respectful manner than that of her lousy choice in boyfriend. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan with the FBI," he showed them both his badge. "I'm looking for Teresa."

"Sorry," the girl replied. "She's not due home for another hour, maybe. Her Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule has her in class until 6pm, sometimes later if she goes to study group after her lectures. That's why we're enjoying a little music at the moment, while we can. Teresa's not much for music, or any kind of noise... or anything that gets in the way of her studying. Is she in some kind of trouble?"

"Is her room upstairs?" Derek asked, evading the question. "I'd like to have a look around."

Amy frowned, but nodded. "I guess that'd be fine. Hers is the last door on the right after you turn left at the top of the stairs," she let him know.

Morgan entered the house, pushing past them. He was just at the bottom landing of the stairs when he turned back to face the two young people. "Don't go anywhere," he told them. "I might have some more questions for you."

"Sure," Amy agreed. "We'll be in my room."

He took off up the stairs, but could hear their chatter behind him as they followed him up. Derek didn't have to stretch his imagination very far to guess what they'd been doing in her room before answering the door. Their attire, or lack thereof, and actions spoke volumes. The music grew increasingly louder as he climbed the stairs, and it shook the old wooden floor boards as he reached the top landing. Straight across from the stairway was a small round window that looked out onto the back yard. He turned left there and worked his way toward the room he'd been instructed was Teresa's. But he was sure to note which door Amy and Seth ducked behind, though he probably could have just followed the music to that source.

Teresa's door squeaked softly as he pushed it open. Hardwood floors flowed from the hall into the bedroom as well, with a few bright throw rugs here and there. A full sized bed was draped with an old quilt and one long wall was banked with bookcases, floor to ceiling. Every shelf was full, with books ranging from literature and history to law, and even religion. The other walls were covered with framed photos in perfect order. Derek recognized the Meyer clan, who featured prominently in all of them. They certainly seemed to know how to fake happy-family smiles for the camera. Or maybe, he thought, there had been a time when they really were happy.

Her closet was filled with clothes and shoes, mostly in shades of brown and red. Everything was folded neatly or hanging and arranged in an organized fashion. There was another door at the left corner of the room and Derek found a small bathroom behind it. It was about five foot square with sink, toilet and even included a corner shower. The place was pretty much spotless, not even a wet towel in sight. He was just about to exit the room when he thought to glance behind the bathroom door, thinking there might be a linen closet. That's when his stomach decided to rise into his throat. The back of the door was covered in pictures and newsprint articles, behavior he'd seen before at other UnSub hideouts. But there was one thing in particular that chilled him to the bone.

Derek pulled out his cell and dialed JJ. "Where the hell are you guys?" he asked the second she answered.

"Only about two miles away, but it's almost 5pm and this traffic is ridiculous," the woman behind the wheel replied. "Hotch called a few minutes ago, you don't even want to know what they're dealing with trying to get back here across that I-90 bridge. Sounds worse than DC rush hour."

"What have you got?" Reid asked.

"A female law student who's smart, meticulous and seems to be out for revenge. Right now I'm standing in her bathroom and she's got photos of Lauren Kupfer with her father tacked to the back of the door. Lauren's head is crossed out with a red X in most of them. There's also a bunch of pictures with Emily. They look like some fairly amateurish shots, but there's one of..." Derek tried to quell his anger, but it wasn't working very well. "She's got a damn picture of my daughter taped to this wall with some words written beneath it: pari passu. Whatever the hell that means."

"It's Latin, often used as a law term. It means: on an equal footing." Reid explained.

"I take it Teresa's not home?" JJ asked.

"No," Morgan replied as he walked back through the room and out into the hall.

"Okay, we'll be there as soon as we can," JJ promised.

Derek moved toward Amy's room. "Get out and run if you have to," he responded just before hanging up. Morgan was only half kidding. He quickly made another call.

"Hey, I was just about to contact you," Garcia answered. "I found a class schedule for Teresa. She has three morning classes on Wednesdays. One from 7:30am to 8:30am. A second, 9:00am to 10:00am. And the third is from 10:30 to 11:30."

"What about her evening class?"

"There's not one on Wednesdays," Garcia replied. "Actually, she's got all morning classes. Tuesdays and Thursdays she has two classes, last one ends at noon."

He sighed. "Then either Amy lied to me, or Teresa lied to her, and I'm guessing the latter is true. I need you to do something else for me right now, Garcia. Call Emily's parents and make sure they got in safe. Then tell them that you're going to have two agents sent to their place. This girl has..." Morgan trailed off when he spotted something through the window at the end of the hall. "There's a vehicle pulling up in the back yard," he told her. "Do you know if Teresa has a car, and if so, what kind?"

"Yes..." she replied. "And it is... a 2007 Ford Focus. Red one with..."

"I think I've got her!" He edged toward the stairs.

"Derek, you should wait for..."

Morgan didn't hear the rest of what she said as he closed his phone, but he could guess at her warning. He didn't have time to wait, though. He placed the phone in the holder at his waist and drew his weapon. He rushed down the stairs and turned toward the back of the house. A short hallway gave way to a newly updated kitchen. The bank of windows against the south wall gave him a good view of the yard as he made his way to the back door. Derek watched two figures move from the car toward a small storage shed near the alleyway. The shade from a giant fir tree cast both people in shadow, but the height and weight of the shorter figure seemed consistent with what Garcia has reported for Teresa. He waited until they slipped inside before he snuck up along the west side of the shed.

With his back pressed against the metal structure, Derek could hear the murmur of voices through the wall. He couldn't make anything out, though. Without further delay, he swung around and slammed his foot against the door, causing it to nearly swing off its hinges. "FBI!" he announced, keeping his weapon drawn, but low, unless provoked. He eyed the shorter person and was almost certain about her identity. "Teresa Meyer?"

"Do you have a search warrant?" she instantly asked, seeming calm enough as she stood beside a tall man.

Derek inspected the young man. He was about an inch shorter than himself with a slight build, but still very muscular, like the body of an endurance runner. His dark, wavy hair looked like it could use a good wash and he wore a white t-shirt, green cargo pants and black boots. Teresa looked much more business like in her brown slacks and red blouse. Her blonde hair was pulled back and bunched up into a messy sort of bun atop her head. "No, I don't," he finally answered. Neither one of them looked at all nervous, which worried Morgan a little. He lowed the gun even more in a show of trust. "I'd just like to ask you a few questions. If that's okay?"

"If you don't have a warrant, I'd like you to leave," Teresa replied.

"If you have nothing to hide, then you should have no problem with answering some questions," Morgan countered as he stole a glance out the small shed window and noticed a dark vehicle parked in the alley.

He almost felt relief wash over him, thinking JJ and Reid had finally made it. But the blow he felt lance across the back of his head told Derek they'd had another friend in hiding. He fell to the ground from the force of the hit, but Derek rolled onto his back and aimed his gun. One shot struck the sandy haired young man standing above him in the shoulder. The kid stumbled backward, but Derek felt a powerful kick knock the gun out of his hands. Then a large piece of metal piping was arching its way toward his head. He put his hands up to block the strike and attempted to wrestle the pipe out of the dark-haired man's grip.

A few seconds later something solid collided with his left shoulder, which caused him to lose the upper hand he'd gained in the struggle. His left arm tingled and fell limp at his side. That's when the pipe came at him again and ripped across the right side of his forehead and down his face. Derek lunged toward the guy, even as his eyesight began to grow blurry and his stomach sloshed. He swung at the kid, but his punch went wide, missing the boy by a long shot. His vision continued to fade and one more blow came from behind, laying him out flat.

He'd been ambushed. He hadn't listened to Garcia. He hadn't waited. He watched through the narrow slits of his eyelids as Teresa stood above him with his gun in hand. He whispered a few soft words. "I'm sorry... Emily... Beth." He knew he'd failed them both.

To Be Continued...