A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this update. Would have posted it sooner, but the entire chapter, upon completion, mysteriously vanished, never to be seen again. Still don't know what happened. Fortunately I had printed it out and then had to rewrite it again. Also, the poll will be available until the 24th of this month for those who haven't voted yet.
Chapter 12
"Hotch?" Morgan repeated as he took another tentative step into the room only to pause again as if afraid to come any closer and be disappointed. "Is it really you?" he asked gathering his composure. Glancing over his shoulder, Morgan knew he might not have much time. He forced his legs to walk toward the bed and reaching out a hand, touched the dark-haired man on the shoulder, and drew back his hand when the man turned his head in his direction, and Morgan's face fell. The man on the bed wasn't Hotch. In fact, except for the dark hair, the man bore no resemblance whatsoever to their missing agent. Looking up at the ceiling, Morgan closed his eyes, let out a deep breath, and shook his head.
"Excuse me," an angry female voice said from behind him. "But what are you doing in here? You're not allowed in here."
Turning, Morgan spied the woman he had spoken to at the nurses' station. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I saw the name on the door and thought it kinda sounded familiar, so, I uh, thought I'd just take a quick look just to be sure it wasn't somebody I knew. I meant no harm or disrespect."
Seeing the pained expression on Morgan's face, the nurse's face softened. "Is Mr. Hefner familiar to you?"
Morgan glanced over his shoulder one last time and sadly shook his head. "No. No he isn't." He then faced the nurse and slowly walked past her and out of the room, but paused in the doorway and looked at her. "Again, I am sorry, ma'am." As he walked down the hallway, the nurse closed the door behind her and hurriedly caught up with Morgan who, standing by the bank of elevators, pressed the 'up' button and waited.
"You're the first, you know," she found herself saying for some unexplained reason.
Morgan turned and looked over his shoulder curiously. "The first what?" he asked.
The nurse folded her arms across her chest. "The first visitor Mr. Hefner's had since he's been here. Poor man. Not even his wife has come to see him, or even called to check on him. It's so sad when you think about it really. Most of our patients seem to enjoy their loved ones coming to see them even if it's only now and then."
Ignoring the ding of an elevator as the doors slid open, Morgan gently took the nurse by the arm, and led her away from the elevators and towards a far corner where they could talk uninterrupted. "Exactly how did Mr. Hefner end up in this hospital to begin with? I understood he was transferred here from Louisville?"
"I believe he was," she replied. "And I understand that he is catatonic. But we have had other catatonic patients here in the past some of whom do make a little eye contact with their loved ones, even if not for long periods. And while I can't explain how or why, I've seen it happen. It's remarkable."
"I'm sure it is," Morgan answered with a grin, then became serious. "You said Mr. Hefner has had no visitors. Does he react or respond to anyone such as other patients or staff?" Something was beginning to gnaw at him but as yet he didn't know exactly what.
The nurse looked around to make sure nobody was around before turning back to the profiler. "I don't see how he could," she replied keeping her voice low. "Besides no visitors, he's never allowed to come into the day room and be with the other patients. The poor man. Dr. Hunt keeps him in his room all the time and in restraints. Also, the only ones allowed in his room besides Dr. Hunt are his son and daughter-in-law. Now, I've been here for several years, and I don't recall ever seeing Dr. Hunt doing that with a patient."
The feeling Morgan had was becoming stronger. "Is it normal to keep a patient in restraints?"
"Yes. Especially if the patient shows a tendency towards violent behavior in the past or at present. We isolate them from the other patients not only for the patient's protection, but for the protection of other patients and staff."
"And Mr. Hefner has shown violent tendencies towards others?"
"That's another funny thing. Since he's been here he's shown no indication of violent behavior and according to his chart, there's no history of it when he was in the hospital in Louisville." When she saw Morgan look at her with a raised eyebrow, she leaned closer to the agent. "When nobody was around, I sneaked a look at his chart. But please don't tell anybody because I'm not suppose to see the charts of patients I'm not assigned to; it's a rule Dr. Hunt implemented."
"You said you sneaked a look at Mr. Hefner's chart. Did anything look unusual or strange to you?"
The nurse shook her head. "Nothing other than what I already told you."
Sighing, Morgan reached into his pocket, removed a card, and handed it to the woman. She looked at it briefly before again looking up at Morgan. "Thank you very much for your help. If you should think of, see, or hear anything else unusual, don't hesitate to give me a call."
The man stood over Hotch smiling, as he strapped him down on the table inside the hidden lab. Hotch had been mumbling incoherently as his head lolled from side-to-side, and his eyes remained closed. Grabbing a pair of latex gloves from an open box on the shelf, he quickly put them on hoping to complete what he needed to do before the FBI agent was finished questioning Daria. The fact that she didn't know where he had hidden the agent at least made it possible that he could finish before she found him. Finding the rubber block, he stuck it into Hotch's mouth, then rolled up the man's sleeve and inserted the needle on the opposite end of a tube attached to a bottle of succinylcholine into his arm, and secured it with tape. Satisfied, he then placed the oxygen mask over Hotch's mouth. He hummed a tune as he applied conducting jelly on both of Hotch's temples before connecting the electrodes. Then, with a devious smile, he turned on the machine, pressed the button, and folded his arms while watching the profiler's body jump as the current flowed into his brain.
For ten minutes, he chuckled as he watched Hotch grimace, his body convulsing causing him to bite down on the rubber block in his mouth when the grand mal seizure happened. Checking his watch, he turned off the machine, stood back, and smirked. He would never tell Daria or anybody else of this extra treatment. Removing the electrodes from Hotch's temples, he then used a tissue to wipe the jell away before removing the rubber block followed by removing his gloves which he stuck in his pocket. This way, he figured, he could destroy the FBI agent without laying a hand on him. He smiled as it occurred to him that this way was much better than killing the man outright as he had tried to earlier. And if he was careful, the federal agent's brain would be irreparably damaged thus making him not only useless in this experiment Hunt was conducting, but forcing Hunt to dispose of the man. To him, best case scenario would be the agent ending up being nothing more than a vegetable.
He continued staring at the agent wishing he could repeat the treatment he had just given him, but knew he'd be running the risk of Daria catching him if she somehow figured out where he had taken Hotchner, and that would not do at all. After double checking to make sure any and all traces he had done anything were non-existent, he then grabbed a stethoscope from the shelf and checked Hotch's heart and respiration. As he did so he noticed beads of sweat covering the agent's face.
Morgan crossed his arms across his chest after the nurse he had been speaking with had departed and returned to work. The gnawing feeling which had surfaced from the moment he saw the man in Adam Hefner's room, had turned into suspicion. Suspicion that something strange was going on, and the revelations by the nurse proved it. Morgan wished he could get a look at or at least obtain a copy of Hefner's medical records, but he knew right now there was no proof to present in order to obtain a warrant to get a look at the medical records.
Just then, he heard a ding of an elevator and turned to see Reid emerge, alone. The younger agent seemed momentarily surprised to see his best friend waiting near the elevators. His eyebrows arched and he was about to speak, but Morgan held up a hand stopping him.
"Not here. Outside," Morgan said gently pushing Reid forward with a hand on his back. Catching the hint, Reid silently walked beside Morgan down the corridor, and then outside the front doors to where their vehicle was parked. They maintained their silence until both got inside and were buckling themselves in.
"Well?" Reid finally asked, his face hopeful, eyes focused on his friend's face as the black agent turned on the ignition. Morgan looked directly into Reid's hazel eyes.
"I got a look inside Adam Hefner's room," he began slowly. "Reid, the man I saw in there wasn't Hotch. Didn't even look like him except for the dark hair."
"Are you sure? I mean from the doorway…."
"I stood right beside the bed. The man turned his head and looked at me. I'm sorry, kid, but it wasn't him." Morgan then began backing up the SUV; but from the corner of his eye, he saw Reid fall heavily back against the seat with his head bowed and swallowing hard at the news.
"I was so sure it would be Hotch," Reid said so softly that Morgan almost didn't hear him. The older man glanced at his friend as he prepared to pull out of the parking lot.
"Look, kid, I know you had your hopes up that maybe at last we had found Hotch, and I can understand that. And I can also understand how difficult it must be for you knowing that the man you suspected to be him wasn't. But one thing I have to admit is that there is definitely something odd going on in that hospital." He drove out of the parking lot.
"What do you mean by odd?" asked Reid with narrowed eyes, his hopes having been dashed, now suddenly renewed.
Morgan proceeded to explain what happened in Hefner's room, and ending with the conversation with the nurse.
"You know that's not totally unusual," Reid explained. "Some people in catatonic states do respond to others like you or I. But in some cases they do make little id any eye contact with a person. You have to keep in mind that catatonia is a disturbance of motor behavior that can have either a psychological or a neurological cause."
"I understand that," Morgan replied keeping his eyes on the road. "It's just that…I don't know how to explain it. But something feels off to me by what that nurse told me, and for the life of me I wish I could put my finger on exactly what it is."
"You think she was lying about something?"
"That's just it. I don't think so. But what puzzles me is that this Adam Hefner is kept isolated from all the other patients, and not allowed into the day-room even if he doesn't communicate with anybody. That, and the fact that that it seems only Dr. Hunt, his son and daughter-in-law are the only ones allowed into his room. No other staff is even allowed access to his records."
"Hmmm," Reid uttered chewing his lower lip. "That is strange. Normally when a patient is hospitalized in a mental facility, he or she does have their own doctor to care for them and prescribe medications, but the entire nursing staff helps care for the patient so nobody gets overworked. And considering Mr. Hefner is restrained, I don't see the need for nobody but the Hunts to be the only ones caring for him." He glanced sideways at his friend. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm not sure exactly, kid. But I gave the nurse my card and asked her to contact me if she sees or hears anything odd." Morgan then glanced at Reid with sympathy. "I'm sorry that this patient turned out not to be Hotch. I know how much you believed he might be. But I warned you not to get your hopes up too high in the beginning."
Reid shrugged his shoulders, bowed his head, but didn't reply. He didn't want to admit his disappointment that Hotch hadn't been found; yet, he still believed their missing Unit Chief was in that hospital somewhere and was in danger if alive. But then again, Morgan had seen the man in question with his own eyes, so why did he still feel the way he did? Reid suddenly lifted his head and narrowed his eyes.
"What if Hefner really is Hotch, and they knew we were suspicious, and moved Hotch so he couldn't be found when we showed up this evening?"
Morgan glanced at the younger man. "Exactly what is it you're trying to say?"
Shifting in his seat, Reid faced Morgan. "Now hear me out first before you say anything. When I was here earlier, Daria Hunt did everything she could to prevent me from seeing who was in that room. She had even told me the patient had to have somebody watch over him as he was starting a new medication. Then we come back this evening, and not only is there nobody in the room watching the patient, but you're able to get inside with no trouble."
Morgan suddenly pulled the vehicle to the curb and directly faced his young friend. "Are you thinking that once they knew you were coming back here, they moved Hotch from the room you tried to see inside of earlier to someplace else?"
"Either that, or they removed the name tag from his door and exchanged it with the name tag of another nearby room."
Morgan tapped a forefinger on the steering wheel for several seconds as he mulled over what Reid had just said. Finally, he turned back to the younger man. "How certain are you that Hotch is in that hospital?"
"As certain as I've ever been of anything in my entire life. And you know I speak only from facts and statistical probabilities. Morgan, my belief is not based on wishful thinking, or even on hope, but on the fact that it makes sense they would keep Hotch in the one place where he could be closely watched and monitored at all times. And if they're doing to him what I suspect they are, the Hotch we know could be lost forever."
Morgan looked into the younger man's eyes, and saw a look he had never seen before, and that was the look of fear. "Reid, we have nothing on which we can obtain a search warrant allowing us access to Hefner's hospital much less a search of that hospital. And you know better than anybody that we're dealing with confidentiality issues here. And judges are not flexible when it comes to violating any patient's confidentiality in a hospital. Besides, what fact or facts do you have that Hotch is even in that hospital? I saw Adam Hefner, remember?"
"I know you saw a man. But I believe Hotch was moved somewhere else the moment Hunt's daughter-in-law asked me to come to the hospital to question her."
Exhaling through his nose, Morgan shook his head and eyed Reid. "Kid, I understand what you're saying, and believe me when I say I know how much you wanted it to be true. How much we all wanted it to be true that we had finally found Hotch. But it makes no sense if you stop and think about it. What I'm saying is, if they were hiding Hotch in this hospital, why go through all the trouble of having you come here just to have to turn around and then hide him? It makes no sense."
"It makes perfect sense, Morgan. It's exactly what I would do," Reid began.
Willing to give the younger man the benefit of the doubt, Morgan shifted in his seat and faced his friend. "Okay. Convince me."
"Convince you?" Reid asked with arched eyebrows.
"Yeah. Convince me that Hotch is in that hospital."
Licking his lips, Reid counted off on each finger with his opposite hand. "Okay. First, since the women who were discharged from this hospital have died, no other women have disappeared or even found dead. We know UnSubs don't suddenly stop killing just because the FBI becomes involved. We've seen it before. They have to show the locals and the FBI that they're smarter than all of us put together. Second, if Hotch was dead, why not just leave his body where it could be found by the police or us? There's no point in hiding where nobody can find it, therefore, he must still be alive even after all this time. Three, I could tell Daria Hunt was extremely nervous when I tried to see who was in that room earlier, and I believed she positioned herself so that I could neither see nor get inside. Why do that unless she was hiding something? And lastly, I believe she contacted me and asked me to come here to talk with her and then had Hotch either hidden, or moved from his room to prevent him from being found."
"See, that's the part that makes no sense even if I agree with everything else you said. Why would she have you come out to the hospital if Hotch was being held here and then hide him? I would think she'd come to the police station instead."
Reid, however, had expected that question; had been prepared for it in fact. "I believe she had me come here for one reason only. And that was to convince me she wasn't hiding anything here, but she also had Hotch moved somewhere else in case I had the opportunity to look around again or somehow manage to get inside that room this time."
The man looked up when the door to the lab opened and the corners of his mouth turned upward when he saw Daria walk in. Closing the door, she stood with hands on her hips when she saw Hotch on the table apparently unconscious.
"I've been looking for you everywhere," she said with a hint of anger. "What are you doing in here? How did you even know about this lab?"
Smirking, the man leaned forward, both hands, palms down on the edge of the table. "I've known what you, that worthless husband of yours, and the great Doctor Hunt have been doing since those girls died who were discharged from here. I've been covertly watching and saw you wheel one of those girls into the storage room, and started wondering why you were taking a patient into the storage room?" He chuckled deviously. "Imagine my surprise when I came in here for some supplies one day, and decided to have a look around. It didn't take me long to find the false wall panel. I know what you've been doing to our friend here so don't deny it."
Glaring at him but not answering, she marched directly to the table and peered down at Hotch, and noticed his face bathed in sweat. She lifted one eyelid and then the other; her eyes narrowed with worry. She quickly snatched the stethoscope hanging from around her neck, and listened carefully to Hotch's heart. She looked up at the still smirking man.
"His heartbeat is erratic," she announced suspiciously, turning her dark eyes on the man before her. "What did you do to him?"
The man arched both eyebrows. "Me?" he asked innocently. "I didn't do anything to your precious Agent Hotchner. You told me to move him from his room and hide him, and I did. Maybe the exertion from being moved caused problems. Maybe what you and the doctor have been doing to him is affecting him. All I know is I didn't do anything to him." He watched Daria look around finding nothing out of place nor any indication something was amiss.
Still suspicious however, she began undoing the restraints. "Help me get him in the wheelchair and back to his room. Then I have to leave and meet with my husband and father-in-law. I'm sure they're wondering where I am by now."
The man's face suddenly darkened and he roughly seized her wrist causing her to cry out. "You're not going anywhere until after I get what you promised me. Do you understand me?"
Swallowing the building lump in her throat, Daria saw the maniacal look in the man's eyes and saw that he was deadly serious and she knew him well enough to know that when he was angry, he was capable of snapping her neck like a twig if he wanted to. In fact, it was his possessiveness that led to her breaking things off with him to begin with. But he still scared her. Jerking her wrist free, she rubbed it gently while never looking away from him. "I haven't forgotten," she said timidly.
The man slowly smiled. "Excellent. Now, let's get Agent Hotchner back to his room, shall we?" he asked sweetly. "I can't wait to collect my reward from you as soon as possible."