Sex, Secrets, and Videotape
Disclaimer: I forgot to put this in the first chapter. CM is property of CBS entertainment. I am just borrowing the characters.
Author's note: I hope that the Spencer's POV parts aren't too unbelievable…I sometimes find myself struggling to write from a male POV (particularly a sexy, genius male ;)
Chap. 3-Oh, Brother
2200 Hours
The Hilton Garden Inn
Somewhere in Las Vegas
Spencer sits at a table in the diner attached to the hotel where the team is staying, and sips his coffee, his thoughts jumbled. Earlier that evening, he'd gone to see his father, ready to make amends as was his intention since starting recovery. His father had accepted his apologies, and had apologized, as well, and then began to tell him a story. At first, he'd been a little interested in what his father had to say, but as the discussion went on, he became less and less interested and more and more confused. And annoyed. A familiar voice interrupted his quiet thoughts.
"Spence? Can I join you?" He smiles at JJ and nods.
"Of course." He watched as his friend sat and arranged her hair before speaking.
"Do you want to talk? You came back from meeting your father looking upset." He sighed.
"I suppose it would do some good to talk to someone. But you have to swear not to tell the others." JJ smiles a little, but nods.
"I promise to keep it to myself." He sighs, and replies.
"Thanks. OK. It started off well; we were able to talk and even though I still felt a little bit of the old anger and resentment, I felt that I was able to understand where he came from. But then he revealed to me that he has been sick, and told me some things."
JJ nods, and they're interrupted by a waitress. JJ orders a coffee and motions for Spencer to continue.
"Anyway, he had an affair with Riley Jenkins's mother. Apparently, it was after he divorced my mom, but not long after. And they had a daughter-that girl we're investigating. I think he said her name is Elizabeth." JJ looked taken aback, and spoke lightly.
"I understand why that would upset you." He nods, and continues.
"It's just-I wonder if it really wasn't because of me that he left. I mean, if he went on to have another child, who is, by all accounts, fairly normal and not at all like me, logic says that I wasn't enough." JJ shakes her head.
"No, Spencer. Think of it like this. What if your parents, together, had had another child? It's a similar thing." He shrugs again.
"Maybe. I just-I wish he had told me when it happened. It might have come in handy, having a sister to talk to when things were bad." JJ smiles.
"Well, you know now. May I tell you something?" He nods, and finishes his coffee.
"Sure." She continues after finishing her coffee.
"I spoke with her at the memorial this morning, and I think she's just as mixed up as you are. She thinks you hate her." He look at JJ, his eyes round and doleful.
"Did you tell her I don't, that I was just shocked and annoyed?" JJ shook her head.
"No. I didn't think it was my place to say anything. Maybe you should phone her later; Garcia has tracked her cell phone number." Spencer sighs, and nods.
"Maybe I will." JJ smiles then.
"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's 2 am DC time, and my body hasn't yet adjusted. I think I'll call it a night. I am seeing Amina Karshani's parents in the morning." Spencer smiles lightly at her.
"I understand. Sleep well. See you tomorrow." She nods, and stands to exit the diner for the elevator. Spencer's voice causes her to turn.
"JJ? Thanks." She smiles and waves, ducking out of the diner. Spencer sighs and stands, and pays for their coffees before returning to his room. He settles against the tiny bed, listening to Hotch's quiet, even breathing, and closes his eyes. He dreams of the Riley Jenkins episode again, but this time it is Elizabeth, instead of his mother, at the window in the living room.
0900 Hours
LVPD
Spencer's POV
When I woke this morning, I felt like hell again. The headaches have been returning, and this morning's was a big one. I am sure this episode is due to the events of the previous evenings, so I quietly swallowed down some Tylenol and ate my breakfast without saying anything to anyone. Now, we're all gathered around the table in the meeting room, and I am doing my best to ignore the pointed stares from Derek and the sympathetic ones from JJ.
"Ok, everyone. Let's see if we can't try to put together a preliminary profile," I hear Hotch say. I sit forward, and wait a moment. Noticing that no one else is ready, I clear my throat and speak up.
"We're looking for a male, young teens or early 20's, who is sexually impotent, and regards these girls as a replacement for the girl he has lost." Hotch nods at me.
"That's good, Reid." I nod, not really looking for his approval, but next Derek speaks, and I have no time to muse.
"It's definitely a male. A female just couldn't cause the vaginal injuries that the victims showed."
Because he is our specialist in sex crimes since Emily is gone, I trust his words. We chat a little longer, settling on the profile: a teenaged boy, likely a student, who sees the girls he's killed as replacements for a girl he was jilted by. The victims are all similar in appearance-brunettes, pretty. Three wore glasses, but one did not, but we don't think that that is important. Finally, we have zeroed in on a specific name-Clint Meyer. The missing piece is the girl he lost, and the story behind that.
Hotch tells me to head off with JJ to interview the boy's parents, and for this, I am thankful, as I sense that the others can tell that I am tense, and I don't wish to discuss the events of last night with anyone. Except maybe JJ, because she will never judge. I smile at JJ as she approaches, and I stand to greet her.
"Hey." She smiles at me, as she usually does, and I notice that I no longer have the twinges of oddness in my stomach that I used to have. I have made an attempt to push any romantic ideals I had of JJ out of my mind since the first year, and I've been able to see her as simply a colleague, but I am grateful for her gentle, nurturing presence in our lives.
"Hi, Spence. How are you?" I smile back, and reply.
"I'm OK, all things considered. Are you ready?" She nods. I turn to follow her out of the building and into a car that the police department is loaning us for the time being. I speak to her.
"Would you like to drive?" She shakes her head. I hold the door for her as she climbs into the passenger's seat, and then close it carefully before climbing into the driver's seat and preparing the car. I have to move the mirrors, because the detective who used this car before me was short, and I always check, anyway. I put on my seat belt, and make sure that JJ does the same, which she does, of course, and then I put the key that she gave me into the ignition as JJ speaks.
"Ok, so pull out here, and then follow the main road to Albany Rd. Take a left, and then turn right on Knightsbridge. The house is 1375." I nod, and glance at my blind spot as I pull out. I feel JJ watching me, and I speak to her, making sure to maintain my focus on driving while I do so.
"I am really OK. I thought about what you told me last night, and I think that you are correct. It wasn't the girl's fault, and I certainly could phone her, I suppose, and at least hear her out. She seemed interested in meeting me, and she seemed to already know who I was." From my periphery, I see her nod. I continue. "It's just weird, imagining my father with another woman. And his parenting skills didn't exactly earn him any father of the year awards. I just wonder how he wound up with custody of a child. He works a lot." JJ nods again as I make the first turn. I see her open her mouth, and so I remain silent.
"Did he tell you about how he came to have custody of the child?" I shake my head.
"No. It never came up. I didn't really wait around long enough." We pull up in front of a modest, two-story house near where my father lives, and we fall silent as JJ knocks on the door. She announces us, and I follow her inside, and as the woman who JJ identified as Mrs. Meyer indicates, we sit on the couch. I look at JJ, and then begin.
"Mrs. Meyer, we have just a few questions for you, if you don't mind." The woman, who has been gazing at us with an absent expression, just nods. I look at JJ, who shrugs lightly, and so I begin.
"Can you tell us who Clint spends most of his time with?" The woman sighs, but replies.
"He is on the football team, spends a lot of time with a boy-Cory Jones. They have been friends for years, played Jr. Football together. He goes to the day school with the other children." I nod, and JJ opens her mouth. I let her speak.
"Has he shown much interest in girls?" The woman nods.
"Yes. He has dated cheerleaders. Most recently, it was that poor Morris girl, although I think he likes her friend, Elizabeth, more. Now, she's a very nice girl, very polite, and very smart. So nice to everyone. It's just such a shame that her mother remarried and essentially abandoned her with her workaholic father. I worry about her, a pretty girl all alone in that big house." I smile as best I can, storing this revelation away for future reference, and continue.
"How have his grades been?"
"They've fallen a little, since his accident. Nothing has been the same." I glance at JJ; so far, no one has discovered an accident. JJ looks at me, her eyebrows raised. She speaks.
"Accident?" The woman nods again.
"Yes. When he was 15, Clint and his father went for a drive, and picked up his girlfriend at the time, a girl called Ashley Grey, really sweet. It was rainy, though, but my husband thought that Clint would be OK driving, even though he'd only had his permit for a few months. The police told me that Clint had fishtailed, and then overcorrected, and drove into a barrier. Ashley died on impact, as she was sitting in the back driver's side, and wasn't wearing a seatbelt. His father was permanently disabled, and about 7 months ago, we put him in the Veteran's home because I couldn't care for him." I glance at JJ again, and she nods once, and stands, excusing herself to call Hotch. I speak again to the woman.
"Thanks for your time, Mrs. Meyer. We're sorry about your husband. Can we find you here if we have further questions?" She nods as JJ returns. I stand, as well, and Mrs. Meyer leads us to the door and sees us out. When the door is firmly closed behind us, I speak to JJ.
"What did Hotch say?"
"He wants us back now. Something has come up, but he didn't say what." I sigh, but nod, and follow her to the car. We drive in silence for a few moments, until JJ clears her throat, and speaks to me.
"So, how are you after hearing what Mrs. Meyer said about your sister?" I shrug.
"It's an interesting angle. I never figured that." I see JJ nod, and I smile lightly. "Well, what do you think? I mean, about the profile, knowing what we know now?"
"I think it's correct. Let's fill in everyone, though, and target in on him. My only question now becomes, where is he hiding these girls before he kills them?" I shrug. I hadn't considered this.
"I don't know. I didn't see any empty buildings on the property. Should we go back and ask his mother?" JJ shakes her head, and pulls out her phone.
"I'll call Garcia." I nod, and muse inwardly. If you need info about someone's personal life, that woman is the one to call. Actually, I should ask her to do a little digging into Elizabeth.
I listen to JJ ask Garcia to see if the Meyer's have any empty properties in the vicinity, and then hang up. I pull into the parking lot, and we head upstairs. JJ relays the information we've discovered to the others as I settle in at the table, and Detective Ratcliff hands me a cup of coffee, and one to JJ, also. Then, Hotch's cell phone rings, and he answers it.
"Go, Garcia." I listen with the others as she relies some information.
"So, JJ asked me to look into the Meyer's finances, and the family doesn't own much. The house they live in is on the brink of foreclosure, and there are no bank records. I think they're really struggling. However, Mommy Meyer's father is still alive, and lives in the burbs. Has a large property, including some barns." I glance around at the others, and the signs are clear-Clint Meyer has a place to keep these girls until he is through with them. She continues.
"Also, the girl that Clint killed was called Ashley Grey; I am sending photos to your phone."
"Great, Garcia. Thanks." He hangs up as our phones buzz, and I pull mine out, revealing a text from Garcia. I open it, and find a photo of a young teenager, with brown hair and brown eyes, and a large, happy smile. I catch my breath, and look up as the others do the same.
"She's pretty," remarks Seaver as the police captain enters the meeting room, and speaks.
"Excuse me, agents? Another girl has gone missing. Elizabeth Reid. Apparently, she left the funeral yesterday, and never came home. Didn't show up at her psychologist's office, and not at school, either. Her father called it in." I glance at JJ before inhaling sharply, causing the others to look at me. I smile lightly, but excuse myself.
"Please, excuse me. I need to use the restroom." The others murmur as I leave. I head for the men's room, and splash my face with cold water. Just then, Morgan enters and speaks to me.
"You Ok, kid?" I shrug.
"Yeah. It's just, um, that girl-she's my sister. I just found out last night, when I had dinner with my dad. It's just-I'm worried. But I'm OK. Really." He looks at me, eyebrows raised.
"Really?"
"Yes." Morgan shrugs, and makes a face.
"We'll find her. Have you told Hotch?"
"No. I told JJ, though."
"Ah, that's why she sent me in." I shrug again.
"I guess." He sighs.
"Let's go talk to Hotch, and then we'll pound the pavement, and we'll look for her. I'll call Garcia, and have her trace Elizabeth's phone, and you'll see. It'll work out. You should see your dad, too. He's here, downstairs, talking to Rossi." I sigh, and wash my hands before following him out of the restroom. We head back to the meeting room, and I approach Hotch.
"Sir, can I speak with you for a moment? Alone?" He nods, and we step into an anteroom.
"What's is it, Reid?" I reply quickly, sensing his annoyance.
"This girl who has gone missing? I think-I know-she's my sister. I met her last night, when I went to dinner with my father. That's what he'd wanted to discuss with me." I watch as Hotch's expression changes. I speak again, trying to anticipate his next move.
"I'm OK. I just thought that you should know. I am perfectly fine continuing on with this case." Hotch shakes his head.
"I'm sorry, Reid. This is over my head now. I am pulling you off this case. You don't have to turn in your badge and weapon, but you will stay away from any active work on this case." I sigh, and fight an urge to roll my eyes.
"Fine. Can I stay here and help JJ?" He shakes his head.
"No. You should probably just go see your father. I am sure he will need someone right now."
"Ok." I turn away, annoyed, and feel him watch me as I stalk out of the room. I enter the meeting room, and I can tell that the others sense I am tense, because they all look at me. I grab my jacket and bag, and head for the door, ignoring the stares of everyone as I hear Hotch speak.
"Dr. Reid is taking some personal time, so unfortunately, we will have to proceed without him. You all have your assignments." I roll my eyes as I head downstairs and outside. I sit on a bench outside of the building, pulling my legs into me, and let my mind go calm. It dawns on me that I have nothing holding me back right now; that I could go home and catch up on work and my thesis, and maybe go visit Prentiss's gravesite. On the other hand, I could go see Mom. But for some reason, I pull out my phone and dial my father. He answers on the first ring.
"William? Hi, it's Spencer." I listen to his tone, he sounds surprised. He greets me, and I cut to the chase.
"Look, my supervisor pulled me off this case, but I want to help you find Elizabeth, so I was thinking I could do a little work from your office. Is that OK?" He tells me it is, and to meet him there. As I hang up, I decide I will walk it; it's close to the police building, and it's not too warm today. I slide my phone back into my pocket, secure my weapon in my bag, and begin the trek to the Lansing building, where his firm takes up the entire fourth floor.
Halfway there, my cell rings, and of course, it's JJ. I answer it quickly.
"Hey, JJ."
"Oh, my God, Spence. What happened? Hotch told me he pulled you off the case." I sigh, and nod before remembering that she can't see me.
"Yes. I guess that he assumed that I couldn't be level-headed." I hear JJ click her tongue.
"Where are you headed now?"
"My father's office." I hear her nod and some papers being shuffled.
"Good idea. Rossi just finished up, and your father is leaving here now. Do you want me to text you the info that they discussed?"
"Please."
"I will. Look, I have to go. I'll check in later, OK?"
"Thanks, JJ."
"Of course, Spence. Bye." I hear the phone click off and the line goes dead. I shrug, put my phone away, and enter the building, riding the elevator to the fourth floor. I arrive, suddenly feeling nervous. I open the door to his firm, and take a deep breath before entering. I smile at the young woman behind the behemoth desk in the front office.
"Hello, I am Dr. Reid. I am supposed to meet William Reid here." The girl looks me over; a look I have come to recognize, that indicates that she finds me attractive, though I don't find her attractive. I smile again as she nods, holds up a well-manicured finger, and speaks.
"Hang on. Let me call his paralegal." I nod, and stand quietly near the desk, my gaze pointed to the white wall behind the girl. I hear her speak into the phone, asking for Irene, who I suddenly remember meeting a few times when I was very young. A moment later, the girl, who's nameplate I've spotted-Jenny-speaks to me again.
"Dr. Reid, you can have a seat. Irene will be just a moment. She's expecting you." This doesn't surprise me; I assumed my father would've put the entire office on alert, and was sort of surprised that Jenny the receptionist didn't know who I was. I settle into a plastic chair, and take in the sparsely decorated front office. There is a fern in one corner, and a palm tree in a pot in the opposite corner. The visitors chairs are arranged in a row, five total plastic chairs, in front of which is a long coffee table, scattered with newspapers, magazines, and trade journals.
I hear my name being said by a familiar female voice, and I stand, smiling, as I turn around. It is Irene, and though she is older now, she is much as I remember.
"Hello, Irene." She smiles at me.
"Hello, Spencer. I didn't think you'd remember me. It's wonderful to see you again."
"I do remember you. It's good to see you again, too."
She motions for me to follow her, and as we head down a hallway, I can feel Jenny watching me. I follow Irene down the hallway, and into an office marked "William Reid, Esq." on the outside. The office is much as I remember-bright, white walls, Irene's large, wooden desk outside of Dad's office. There are plants and paintings everywhere, and a water cooler in the corner that is likely older than I am. I settle into the same chair I remember sitting in at six, when Mom and I came to visit Dad one day when I was home sick.
"Ok, dear. Your father should be here in just a moment. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?" I shake my head.
"No, thanks." She nods, and speaks again.
"Have you seen him today? He's really shaken up about this. Elizabeth is really quite responsible, and so when she didn't phone at all yesterday, I knew something was wrong." I shrug.
"I haven't seen him yet. But that's good to know." I fall silent again, and she shrugs and turns back to her computer. I am sure she wants me to tell her what I know, but I feel that if I talk about it, I might not be able to keep they myriad emotions inside, and I might not be able to handle this case. And I WILL not allow myself to break down over some stupid girl I only just met. I know that sounds harsh, but whatever. I never asked for a sister, and I certainly never asked for strangers to know so much about my personal life.
I settle back, and pull out my phone. JJ has texted me a summary of the information that Rossi had gathered, and I scan it quickly.
Rossi had discovered that she was smart, a fact that I find amusing. I guess she isn't some stupid girl, even though I didn't mean stupid in the literal sense of the term. Well-adjusted, active in school activities, and on the basketball team. Doesn't date much, which again amuses me-it seems the Reid's, as a whole, struggle in that area. She is nominated for Homecoming Queen, though, which is ironic-romantically stunted, but popular. Strange combination.
I decide that I will begin my covert investigation at their home-looking at a victim's home, and, in the case of children-their bedrooms-helps to determine the type of victim they are-a submissive, a fighter, etc. Besides, I can get to know this girl better in my own way, and maybe, maybe we can relate better if I know something about her on a personal level.
I hear my father's voice in the hallway, and I stand, replacing my cell in my pocket and smoothing my shirt.
"Thanks, Jennifer. You don't need to inform Irene." It is a moment before he arrives in his office, and he smiles when he sees me. I fight the urge to rush out the door, and instead plant my feet firmly on the ground. I make a mental note to not be combative, and instead I nod at him.
"Hello, Spencer."
"Hi." He smiles again, and turns to Irene.
"Thanks for meeting him, Irene. The FBI people said not to worry, they are narrowing in on a suspect, and expect that Elizabeth is OK. I need to return home, one of the agents will be there with me until she is found. I guess it's protocol or something." Irene, to her credit, simply nods, and replies quietly.
"We will be fine here, Bill. Please, if you or Spencer need anything, please let me know." Dad nods again, and motions to me to follow him into his office. I shut the door behind us, and sit in his visitor's chair as he settles into the desk chair. I glance around the office, and am surprised when my eyes settle on an arrangement of photographs. One is of me and my mother, and then a family portrait I vaguely remember taking; I must have been three or four. Finally, there is a photograph of the Elizabeth girl with Dad at what seems to be a birthday party. They are standing next to each other, smiling, and Elizabeth is holding a stuffed rabbit and wearing a party hat. She appears to be young, probably ten or eleven, and Dad looks happy. I realize that he realizes I have discovered the photos, because he speaks then.
"That's Elizabeth. When she turned thirteen." I nod.
"Oh. Looks like a fun party." He shrugs.
"It was, I guess. A lot of teenaged girls in a small room at a pizza parlor isn't exactly fun, but she was happy." I can't think of an adequate response, and so I just nod again, and make a noise.
"Hmm." We are quiet again for a moment, before he speaks again.
"What happened, Spencer? Why are you not working this case with the others?" I sigh.
"My supervisor discovered that I have a personal connection, and removed me. I am to behave as a private citizen until such time that he deems it appropriate for me to return to the case. Likely, once…Elizabeth is found." He purses his lips.
"I am sorry, Spencer, that this spilled over into your professional life. It was never my intent for this to be anything more than a family affair." I snort, and he appears angry. He continues. "I mean that. You're my son, and I love you, and I care about the things that happen to you. But I also care about Elizabeth. You see, with you, I screwed up. Majorly. I understand that. But with Elizabeth, well, it gave me a chance to start over. But I think you'll find that she doesn't like me much, either." I sigh, and respond.
"I am sorry, too. Thank you. I need to go to your home; often, children, especially females, will have clues in their private spaces at home, things that parents won't necessarily look at, but might be helpful. Even the colors of her walls will tell me something." He nods, and stands.
"Let me get a few files, and then I will be happy to give you a ride, if you like. But I thought you were off this case." I shrug again.
"I am to behave as a private citizen. I believe that if I were anyone else, I'd be doing what I knew to find someone I cared about." Dad smiles lightly, turns to his file cabinet, removes a thick manila folder and a smaller green hanging file, and turns back to me.
"I understand. Are you ready?" I nod, and stand, taking a deep breath. I follow him out of the office, back into the hallway, and out to the elevator. We ride in silence to the ground floor, where he checks his business mailbox, and then we head out for his car. I am amused to discover it is the exact same car as he had when I was a kid, and I comment on this.
"You still have this old thing?" He nods.
"Yes." I slide into the passenger's seat, and we drive in silence for a bit, until arriving at his home. I take in the outer appearance. It is a small, modest home, though I know that Dad makes good money. It is white stucco, rather LA-ish, actually, and one level. The trim is painted a deep brown, and the lawn is well-manicured, with little red flowers lining a brick pathway to the front door. In the window, a fat cat snoozes on the back of a sofa, and I smile.
"Is that your cat?" I follow him up the path, on alert for anything suspicious, and watch as he unlocks the door, and flips on a light. He responds.
"No, my cat passed away a few years ago. That's Elizabeth's cat. His name is Mouse." I raise my eyebrows.
"Mouse?" He shrugs.
"I'm afraid so. She named him when she was a little girl. I think she thought it was funny."
I take in the room, and realize that it is the living room, though it appears that no one actually spends much time here. There is a leather loveseat, a matching leather armchair, and a handsome wooden coffee table, and not much else. On the coffee table is the only sign of life-a coffee-table book that I can see is a collection of drawings by Degas, and a fern in a pot in the corner. I have gathered that Dad likes greenery. I turn to him.
"Don't let me keep you from whatever you need to do. I can do my research on my own." He nods, and turns down a hallway, calling over his shoulder.
"Help yourself to anything in the fridge. The housekeeper did the shopping yesterday. Liz's room is the one at the end of the hall on the left." I sigh into the dark, silent house, and, suddenly, the doorbell rings. Dad reappears, and I head with him as he opens the door to reveal JJ and Morgan. I smile at her as Dad escorts her and Morgan inside.
"Hi, guys." They both smile and nod at me, and then JJ falls into conversation with Dad as I ask Morgan to follow me. He speaks to me as I lead him to Elizabeth's bedroom.
"So JJ spilled the beans about Hotch taking you off this case. How are you?"
"Upset, but what can I do?" He shrugs, and we open the door. I take in the room, and step back, allowing Morgan to enter. JJ comes down the hall then, heading towards us. She smiles at me as we step into the room together.
"Hey, Spence. I told Morgan about the recent developments. I hope you don't mind. You really shouldn't be in here, though." I grimace. She shrugs, and speaks to Morgan.
"Derek, do you want me to do this? I mean, it is a girl's room." Morgan rolls his eyes, and shakes his head.
"No. Reid, if you stay quiet and out of the way, I won't say anything to Hotch." I nod, and glance around the room. The most striking thing is that the walls are painted a muted pink, which is something I would've expected of a young child, but not a teenager. I suddenly realize that this is likely the same paint that has been on the walls for many years, and wonder how long Dad has lived here. I say this to the others.
"The walls are pink." Morgan looks up from the computer he is turning on, and nods.
"Yeah. Rossi said that your father had indicated that Elizabeth had chosen to stay with him when her mother remarried last year. I bet this is the same room she's had since she was a child." I nod. I notice that in one corner is a small vanity table, and various cosmetics and hair things litter the top. In the opposite corner is a desk, with a computer and some books spread across it. Above the desk are lined up some awards, four perfect attendance awards, some basketball trophies, and a corkboard, which has pictures of Elizabeth with what I assume are her friends tacked to it, along with a calendar. Finally, next to the closet is a four-door dresser, with more makeup littering the top.
"Ok." JJ is looking through the closet, likely for anything that Elizabeth feels she has to hide. I see her step back, and I cross over.
"What did you find?"
"A whole mess of private school uniforms, sports equipment, and a pretty ball gown. But nothing too concerning." Just then, Morgan speaks to us.
"There's some emails, but I can't access them. I'm going to call Garcia." I watch him pull out his phone, and dial the office. I hear him trill down the phone, and smile at their banter.
"Hang on, mama, I'm gonna put this on speaker so JJ and Reid can hear." He clicks a button, and then I can hear Garcia's smiley voice.
"Hey, smarty pants. JJ. What do you need, lovelies?" I smile, Garcia's crazy antics are usually a welcome distraction in the day, and today is no exception. Morgan speaks.
"I'm with JJ at Elizabeth Reid's home, doing victim-ology. I need you to see if you can hack in and review her emails." I hear Garcia giggle.
"I thought you were going to give me something challenging. Gimme a minute." A few moments later, she speaks again. "Say, does she have a cat?" I nod at Morgan, who indicates that I should speak. I reply.
"Yeah. His name is Mouse, why?"
"Because teenaged girls use their cat's names as passwords all the time. Ok, I'm in. Looks like she emails the same people-her parents, a few girlfriends, and twice to a boy. Which ones do you need?"
"Any mention of a Clint Meyer?"
"Searching…got a coupla hits. Mostly to her girlfriend Reagan Morris, hating on the boy, calls him a jerk and tells Reagan she's too good for him. Another to her mother, saying basically the same thing. Nothing alarming. Oh, guess what, Spence? It looks like your sister has a date tomorrow night." I roll my eyes, and Morgan chuckles.
"Thanks, girly. We'll call you if we need more."
"Yup. Over." The line goes dead, and Morgan hangs up and faces JJ and me.
"So that wasn't helpful. This hasn't been that successful of a victim toss. She seems to be a mix of all victims types. And no mention of why Clint Meyer would choose her."
I sigh, and nod, glancing at the desk where Morgan is still standing. I notice a calculus book, a dog-eared copy of Crime and Punishment, and a leather-bound notebook, which I indicate.
"Wait, what is that leather tome?" Morgan mutters under his breath, but retrieves the book and turns it over in his hands. He opens the first page, and then snaps it shut.
"A journal. JJ." JJ extends her hands for the book, and turns to me.
"I'll look through it. I promise not to tell you anything too embarrassing, OK?" I nod, but wonder if I want to know anything at all, and turn back to Morgan, who speaks.
"Ok, well, I guess I'll head back to the police department. JJ, call me when you're through, OK?" She nods, and we leave the room. Morgan heads out the front door as JJ and I settle into the living room.
"So this is weird, being in your childhood home," she says to me. I shake my head.
"This is not my childhood home." She blushes a little, and I reach out for her hand.
"It's OK. It is weird, no matter what." She smiles at me, and I ask her if she wants a drink.
"Yeah, some water or tea would be great." I stand, and head into the kitchen. I stand, and take in the room. There is a fridge, of course, and an island. On the counters are a coffee pot, a toaster oven, and can opener, and nothing else. I open the fridge, and scan the contents, removing a pitcher of water, and some juice.
I open the cupboards, locating some glasses. I pour the water into one glass, and some juice for myself, return the containers to the fridge, and take the glasses back to the living room.
As I hand JJ her glass, she smiles up at me, and I smile back, settling onto the loveseat next to her.
"I think Hotch was right, pulling me off of this case." She looks at me, sideways, and then nods.
"I know. He's smart, a lot smarter than most of us realize, I think, and he knows us, and our limits. He wouldn't have pulled you off if he truly thought you were OK." I nod.
"I know that." She smiles again, and glances back down at the book, flipping through the pages, and then she groans lightly.
"This is incredibly boring. You and sister seem to have one obvious thing in common-you're both too good. No mention of boys, drama, nothing. Not even a gosh, I hate my parents today. It's just a summary of her feelings, written in stream-of-consciousness writing. It's odd." I nod in agreement.
"Yeah, sounds like it."
Just then, the phone rang out.