This chapter introduces the unsub, finally... and there's also a surprise...
QUOTE:
"As a general thing, when a woman wears the pants in a family, she has a good right to them."
Josh Billings
oooooooooo
"I think I'm going to reward myself and have a drink, tonight," said Yukie to her brother Takumi. They were sharing a table almost front centre of the Sherwood Club, a better spot than what they usually found on karaoke night, and since she had finished and aced her final exams, Yukie felt twice as motivated to celebrate in a special way. Her usual glass of coca-cola was half empty, but it was not satisfying her.
"You want another beer, Tak? It's on me," she offered.
"I told you before, I don't like you buying me my drinks," the man replied, taciturn. He was not sharing her cheerful mood... he rarely was in a light mood to begin with, and his sister knew that, but she never let it affect her.
Takumi was from the old school, where the man was in charge; he was the provider, the protector of the women. It did not matter to him that his sister was actually the leader of their family; that she was brighter, independent, self-reliant, and was the one helping him get by while he was looking for work. Since their parents' death, being the only son, he felt he should take charge of her, but she did not need him, while he needed her help.
"You should not be drinking anything but sodas, you're not used to alcohol," he warned his sister, suddenly concerned. He knew that she led a very strict life during the school year, solely focused on her graduate studies, karaoke night being the only pleasure she allowed herself when she was less busy and did not have any classes the next morning.
"It's okay, I'm not driving," she joked. They both knew that she took the bus to and from Princeton's campus to commute. She usually did not catch a ride home with her brother, for three main reasons: first, he refused to refrain from drinking and driving; not that he was ever drunk, but still, it was her best excuse to decline his offer to take her home. Second, she liked to go home early, and he liked to stay late at the bar; she did not want to cramp his style. Finally – and she did not want him to know this – she was trying to hide him from her friends at the University; their opinion of her would be tarnished if they met her slovenly, grumpy, poor brother. She was always afraid that she'd run into them at the Club, that's why she usually kept to herself and hid from the other students as much as she could. Her friends did not like karaoke anyway, so chances were good she would be spared an awkward encounter.
"And you're here! You'll keep me from embarrassing myself, won't you?" she teased him with a cynical tone. She found it ironic that he always worried about how her behaviour affected her reputation – and his – but that he could not or would not acknowledge how he, himself – his look, his actions – impacted on their family's image.
"I'm just going to have a wine cooler or something like that, don't worry," she added to reassure him as she checked to see if she had correct change for the drink and a tip. "I better hurry before the next singer comes on... It might be a cute guy, this time!" she giggled self-depreciatingly at her girlish hopes and quickly headed for the bar.
Takumi's disapproving look followed Yukie and his mood became even more sullen at the thought of his sister hooking up with a stranger and... But he knew how to prevent all of that, how to stop the potential suitors...
oooooooooo
Mark Jenner was standing near the bar, next to a group of laughing and squealing girls, but no one was paying attention to him. He was trying to look relaxed, was sipping from his mug of non-alcoholised beer, and looking around him, mostly bored with the scene. He had finished his song forty minutes ago and had since been mostly ignored by the so-called groupies. They were looking at and talking about, or with, younger guys.
The team had been watching everything that was going on, and they, too, felt that they were not any closer to identifying their unsub. The place was full of Asian-American men and women and though most were in their twenties, there were still too many in their thirties and forties for them to narrow down their focus.
Rossi decided they had waited long enough; he made eye contact with Prentiss who was striving to get rid of two men who were competing for her attention, then with Morgan who was watching the crowd from the sides, and he headed for the back office. Entering the room, he found Hotch and Sorrell talking with Rick Lemmon.
"How many more singers do you have after this one?" Hotch asked the owner.
"I have eight more signed up. Sometimes a few more want to be added at the last minute. I let them in if there's time..." Lemmon replied.
"What time do you end the..." but Hotch did not have a chance to finish his question, Rossi interrupted him.
"Hotch, it did not work. We've been scanning the crowd. No one is paying attention to Jenner, man or woman, young or old... He did not do a bad job," he added, looking at Sorrell, "but he's not close enough to our victims' profile. We've got to try again," now looking at Hotch.
"I know. Let me get ready, first; then I'll need your help choosing a song," he added, speaking to Lemmon. He spoke next in his wrist radio: "Garcia, let everyone know we're trying again, I'll be the bait, so I need to remove my earpiece. I'll put on a wire later."
"Everyone heard you, except Morgan, whom I'll call on his cell right now, and Reid will be told by Agent Seaver, correct?..."
"Correct!" they all heard from Seaver.
"... and I assume you'll tell Agent Rossi..." she trailed off.
"Yes, he knows... Hotchner out."
He took off his earpiece, his jacket, his gun in its belt holster, and his wrist microphone. "I'll put on the wire after the song, in case my shirt isn't thick enough to hide it while I'm under the spotlight..."
Rossi made a face: "You still look like FBI... Can you mess up your hair, or something?"
Hotch was getting annoyed once again, but he went to a small mirror on the wall and realized he needed to soften his expression and look less like he was "on official business". He looked behind him to Rick Lemmon and his purple-colored glasses.
"Do you have another pair of those I could borrow?" he wondered.
Hotch tried on a pair of yellow-tinted glasses Lemmon found for him. They were scratched and he was seeing blurry through them, but if he only wore them during his song... and, as long as he knew the words to the song, of course... the glasses would make him look more...
"Cool!" Rossi approved the new look. "They make you look younger, too! It's perfect! What are you going to sing?"
Hotch looked at Lemmon: "Do you have the Beatles' White Album in your catalog?"
"Of course! Let me send off the next singer and I'll show you our selection," Lemmon answered and they headed backstage, while Rossi, barely restraining a smile, spoke into his wrist radio: "Hotch is getting ready. Let's stay focused, no matter what happens, people," he reminded them.
"I'll let my two officers know what's going on, can you talk to Jenner?" Detective Sorrell asked Rossi.
"Of course. We still need to keep Jenner under watch, though, just in case, so tell your people to not lose sight of him. My team will focus on Hotchner."
oooooooooo
Morgan felt his cell phone vibrate more than he heard it ring; the noise in the bar was louder between the singers. He covered his ear and listened to Garcia telling him about the new plan. However, she, too, had a plan and for it to succeed, she needed Morgan's help.
"You want to do what?" Morgan was not sure he had heard her correctly.
"I want to record the song, but I need your help. I need you to leave your cell phone on and put it next to a speaker... Don't worry; I'll deal with the back ground noises and the distortion with my equipment, here."
"Garcia! You can't do that! I can't do that! You're trying to make me lose my job, woman?" Morgan protested loudly, because of the noise, but also because he was getting upset.
"Please, please, Morgan, I've never asked you for anything..." she begged.
"What?" Morgan could recall easily several occasions when he had obliged her wishes.
"Okay, okay, this is a special request, though. I need this. It will be my protection."
"What are you talking about?"
"Remember when Hotch lied to me? When he promised he'd keep my secret a secret but then he didn't? Well, I thought it would be nice if I had some protection against people changing their minds and breaking their word..."
"This is not going to work, Garcia. How are you going to use this without letting him know how you got it? And why you got it? Hey?" Morgan was not happy and strived to let her know how much he disapproved of her plan.
"I don't really want to use it, Morgan, I just want to know I have something I COULD use if I really, really needed it. I just want to feel like I'm protected against nasty surprises. It's more to reassure me than to protect me, really... You're right, I could never let Hotch know what I did, so no, I could never use this recording, but..."
"You mean, 'what we did'..." Morgan was starting to bend to her will and she quickly realized it.
"Thank you, thank you! I'll call you when it's time!" and Garcia hung up, leaving Morgan shell shocked and already hating himself for agreeing to help her with her crazy scheme.