Chapter 2

"So, it's after midnight is this small town." Morgan asked as he placed his sunglasses on his face. "Where do you think he went?"

"Well," Prentiss replied, "If I were Reid, I would probably want some coffee."

"Right, so the diner?" Morgan suggested.

"It's either that or a beer at the local bar." Prentiss pointed out.

"Diner", they replied in unison.

"After you," Prentiss gestured with her hand for him to lead the way.

They entered the busy diner filled with truckers as they passed through the small town. "Excuse me," Morgan tried to get the attention of one of the waitresses but she passed him without stopping. "Excuse me," He tried again with another.

"Be with you a minute!" She replied.

"Excuse me ma'am," Prentiss showed to badge to the waitress, "We're with the FBI and we need to ask you a few questions." The passing waitress stopped.

"Sorry, we are a little short handed this morning." She looked anxious to get back to work.

"We'll be quick." Prentiss promised.

"Have you seen this man recently?" Morgan asked as he showed her a photo of Reid on his IPAD. "He would have been here a little before 1:00am."

"No, but I've only been here since 7:30." She eyed her tables.

"Is there anyone here who was working last night?" Moran asked.

"No, Olivia was the only one here when I left last night at 9:00 and she was supposed to be pulling a double this morning, but I got called in to cover her shift."

"What about the cook?" Morgan asked.

"He got off at 6:00 his name is John West, now can I get back to work?"

"Thank you," Prentiss licked her lips. "Ok, let's go find John West."

They were making their way out of the diner when another waitress stopped them. "Sorry, I overheard you asking about an FBI agent," she handed them the files Reid had left behind the night before.

"I found these when I got here this morning. They were lying on a table; I was planning on bringing them to the police station when I got off work later today."

"Thank you," Morgan looked at Prentiss. "At least we know he was here, but why would he leave these?"

"We really need to talk to that cook and see what he knows." Prentiss replied.

"I'll call Garcia and get his address; you call Hotch and tell him what we know so far." Morgan hit the speed dial.

"Ok Prentiss, call me after you talk to the cook. We will meet you back at the police station." With that he hung up the phone. "Reid was at the dinner last night. He left the case files there, they are going to talk to the cook and one of the waitresses is missing."

"Why would he leave the case files?" Rossi asked as they headed back towards the police station.

"I don't know." Hotch replied. "We need to get some uniforms out on the streets looking for Reid."

"About what happened last night," Rossi began.

"Dave," Hotch stopped him, "I found these in his room." He passed the prescription bottle over.

"Rizatriptan," Rossi looked up. "That's not a narcotic, what's it for?"

"Migraines," Hotch took the bottle back and placed it in his pocket.

Rossi shook his head, "Wow, now I really feel like an ass."

"We all were thinking the same thing," Hotch replied. "I probably would have approached the subject a little differently than the two of you did."

It was dark and Reid was faintly aware that he was restrained. His head was pounding and his neck was aching. He had no idea where he was or how he had ended up there. A thin stream of light was coming from somewhere. He rolled himself over to his side, he felt someone stir beside him.

"Hello?" He called. There was a soft moan, and then Reid remembered the events in the dinner. "Olivia?"

"Who's there?" Her voice was timid and shaking.

"It's Spencer," he replied. "Are you bound too?"

"What happened?" She asked confused.

"I'm not sure, are you tied up?" He asked again.

"Yes."

"Listen to me," Reid began. "Stay calm."

Reid followed the sounds of the footsteps as they drew closer. There was a door opened and he was blinded by the bright sun light. Reid's eyes quickly studied his surroundings. They were in the back of a tracker trailer, but he couldn't see the face of the man at the door. The sun was too bright behind his face for him to discern his features. It wasn't until he spoke that he knew who it was.

"Get up," he ordered.

"Listen to me," Reid began. "This is not the way to go about this."

"Shut up!" He screamed. "Get up or I will shoot you right now!"

"All right," Reid stated calmly. "It won't be easy with these restraints." Reid tried to push himself into a sitting position but he wasn't going fast enough. The man climbed into the bed of the tracker trailer and roughly pulled Reid to his feet.

"Move," the man motioned for Reid to move with the gun. Reid moved toward the open door, realizing it was his own gun being shoved into his face. Olivia was still lying on the floor, curled into a tight ball.

"Get up!" The man kicked Olivia in the stomach.

"Hey!" Reid shouted, "Stop it!"

"She murdered my brother!" The man turned to Reid.

"I know Sean! She will pay for what she's done. This is not the way to do this!" Reid tried to calm him down.

"NO!" He shouted. "I heard what you said in the dinner. You were going to protect her!" Sean pushed Reid out of the tracker trail and he hit the ground, hard, knocking the wind out of him.

Garcia felt terrible that she was sneaking her way around Reid's medical records. "It seems that our boy wonder has seen at least 3 different doctors." Her fingers danced over the key board. "He has been taking a few different Triptans which are used to constrict blood vessels in the brain and relieve swelling. He tried a different one every 2 weeks until a month ago when he started taking Rizatriptan."

"How long Garcia?" Hotch asked.

"It seems his first visit took place right before your trip to Miami, but that doesn't tell me how long he's been having them." She replied.

"That was almost 4 months ago." Hotch watched as Morgan and Prentiss entered the police station. "Thanks Garcia, we'll keep you posted." He approached his agents, "What did you find out?"

"Well, West said Reid was sitting at a booth for about an hour, but he was gone when he came back in from smoking a cigarette out back, so was the waitress. West has no prior record, he's clean according to Garcia."

"Who was the waitress?" Rossi asked.

"Her name is Olivia Lawrence. We went by her apartment, but it was empty." Prentiss explained.

"Isn't she the girl who brought us our food 2 nights ago?" Seaver chimed in.

"I think you're right," Rossi thought back. "She talked with Reid for a few minutes I think."

"What do we know about her?" Hotch questioned the group.

"I'll get Garcia on it," Morgan dialed and waited. "Baby girl."

"What can I do?" Garcia did use a usual pet name, she was dwn to business.

"I need you to run a name for me." Morgan replied, not feeling the slightest bit hurt about no witty banter back and forth. No time for small talk when Reid was missing. "Olivia Lawrence."

He waited patiently as Garcia's fingers did their magic dance over the keys and placed the call on speaker. "OK, I have an Olivia Lawrence born Dec 12, 1983 in Memphis, Tennessee. No father listed on the birth certificate, but mother Mary Lawrence was arrested 4 times for solicitation, was in and out of the hospital for broken bones, a few concussions. They moved to Alabama in 1987. Oh," Garcia gasped. "Mother was found in a dumpster in 1993, she had been beaten to death."

The feeling in Morgan's stomach grew worse. "What happened to Olivia after that?"

"OK," Garcia switched screens, "She was bounced from foster home to foster home for about a year until she ended up with the Connors family where she stayed until she turned 18." Garcia followed her tax records, "Looks like she has worked a number of odd jobs, moved around a bit for a few years in her early 20's. She spent 1 year at a community college before she finally settled down in Alabama where she has worked at Angel's Diner for the past 3 years. No criminal record. She pays her taxes and volunteers at the animal shelter in town."

"Garcia," Prentiss chimed in. "What about the foster family, the Connors, any record of abuse?"

"Not for Olivia," Garcia explained. "There were a number of other girls that filed complaints again John Connors, the father, but nothing ever stuck. He was an alcoholic, his wife Maria was in and out of the hospital as well, but no complaints were ever filed against him for that." Garcia paused, pulling up his death certificate. "Oh."

"Garcia?" Hotch's voice was stern and pushing.

"Um, sir, it seems that he died in 2001 from an apparent poisoning from a black widow."

"It has to be her." Seaver piped in.

"Can you track her phone?" Rossi asked.

"Its current location is Angel's Diner." Garcia said disappointedly.

"Why would she take Reid?" Prentiss pointed to the crime scene photos.

"He doesn't fit the victimology," Seaver joined Prentiss, "He's not like these men."

"Reid figured out it was her?" Morgan offered. "He was at the dinner with the case files. She panics, tries to cover her tracks."

"Maybe," Rossi thought out loud, "But I don't think she is confrontational enough to take down an armed FBI agent, even Reid. Think about it, she killed all those men by poisoning them with venom from a Black widow. She didn't restrain them; they were all unaware that it had even happened until it was too late."

"They all died in different locations, some in the hospital, she doesn't watch them suffer." Seaver pointed out.

"So if she didn't take Reid, who did?" Morgan asks.

"And where is she?" Rossi asked.

"Garcia, see if you can find a connection to Olivia Lawrence with any of the friends and family of the victims." Hotch ordered.

"Yes, sir, I will call you as soon as I find something." She hung up and went to work.

"Seaver and Prentiss I want you to interview anyone who knows Olivia, just in case she did take Reid; we need to know where she might take him." Hotch turned to Rossi, "We need to take a look at the dinner, see if we can profile which way they might have gone."

"I'll go help the local officers canvas the area." Morgan headed out.