Chapter 5-I'm Watching You
Finally alone in his hotel room, Hotch poured himself a glass of Scotch from the liquor cabinet and sat down on the sofa, taking a sip of the amber liquid as he did so. It felt good going down. He knew things had ended on a weird note with him revealing to his team about the letter and him concealing it from them, as well as the possibility he may have destroyed evidence in the process. He took another sip of Scotch and massaged his forehead with a hand. Normally they would return to Quantico as they were so close, but because of the hour, it had been decided it would be better just to spend the night and then drive back the next day to go over everything after the profile had been released to the local authorities and the public.
Shane Cooper was a name he hadn't heard in years, yet he did remember the case itself if not the name. It had been one of his most intense and exhaustive cases as he recalled. Cooper had walked into a convenience store, pistol-whipped the owner who was in his sixties, and left him lying in the back in a pool of blood, and was holding the clerk behind the counter at gunpoint when a female uniformed police officer had walked in to buy something, unaware a robbery was in progress as Cooper hid the gun in his pocket but kept it pointed at the clerk the entire time. As she sat a can of soda on the counter and prepared to pay for it, she noticed the subtle shift of the clerk's eyes towards Cooper and reached for her gun now aware of what was going down. But Cooper was slightly faster. He had pulled out his pistol and shot the young officer in the head between her eyes killing her instantly; she was only twenty-five and had been with the force only a year at the time. Cooper then shot the clerk and left empty-handed.
The description of Cooper by the clerk who miraculously survived the shooting, although the store owner did not, and the ensuing investigation was intense. When Cooper was finally arrested and brought to trial, Hotch knew he could get a conviction even without his star witness who was the store clerk; but who wanted to and was still able to testify from her hospital bed via the use of technology being in court. The trial had been long and exhausting, but when it went to the jury, Cooper was found guilty in record time, less than two hours. During the penalty phase the same jury sentenced him to death. It was his last case as a prosecutor. Aaron Hotchner, shortly after that trial handed in his resignation deciding that he was tired of coming in at the end and seeing the evil people do and having to pick up the pieces of peoples' shattered lives. He decided he wanted to be able to keep people like Shane Cooper from doing what he did to others in the beginning instead of having to clean things up after they'd been done already. It was then he and Haley sold their home and moved to Seattle where he joined the FBI. To him, after years of being a prosecutor, the cases all began to run together until he could no longer tell where one ended and another began. He then knew it was time to leave. He was no longer involved while Cooper's case went through its appeals process.
Taking another drink of Scotch, Hotch sat the glass down on the table and, grabbing the phone, sat it in his lap and dialed his home number to check his messages. Listening, he discovered there were two from Haley and one from Jack. Punching in his code, he listened to each of them. One of Haley's messages was pretty average: they were having a wonderful time and her parents were enjoying their visit with their grandson. And she wished he had been able to come with them. The other was how much she and Jack loved and missed him. Her parents passed along their best wishes and hoped he could come visit next time and how much Jack missed his daddy. But it was Jack's message that tugged at Hotch's heartstrings the most.
"Hi, daddy. Miss you. Love you." Hotch could hear Haley in the background urging Jack and chuckled. "Having fun with grandpa and grandma. Gotta go. Love you. Bye daddy." The message ended. Hotch sighed wearily as he hung up the phone and sat it back on the table, picked up his drink, and drained the remnants of the liquor. He was about to get up and pour himself another when the phone rang. Picking up the receiver he put it to his ear.
"Hello?" he said. There was dead silence on the other end. His eyes narrowed. "Who's there?" Again silence. "I know there's somebody there because I can hear you breathing." Nothing. He hung up too tired to play guessing games. A minute later the phone rang again. Exasperated this time, Hotch picked up the receiver. "What?" he hissed.
"Now Aaron, is that any way to speak to an old friend?" the voice said pleasantly.
"Who is this?" Hotch asked suddenly awake.
"I'm surprised you don't remember me, Aaron. We had such a fun time together. I never forgot you."
"Look, I don't have time to play guessing games with you whoever you are. So why don't you just tell me who you are and get it over with."
Hotch could hear chuckling on the other end. "Now Aaron, you will find out who I am all in good time I assure you. But just let me say this as I don't want to keep you as I'm sure you'd like to get some sleep. But your blood will soon ooze between my fingers while your life slowly drains from your body. I want to wash my hands in your blood, Aaron. But before you die a horrible and painful death, you will remember me and my name will be on your lips for all time. You will scream my name. Finally, Aaron, there is something outside your door meant just for you. But you needn't worry because it is not dangerous. Just a little reminder for you. We will meet soon. VERY soon. Just remember, Aaron, I'm watching you." The call was disconnected. Hotch immediately dialed Garcia's number.
"Penelope Garcia, Queen of the all-knowing speaking. What can I as your humble servant do for you?" said a perky voice.
"Penelope, it's Hotch. I need a favor."
"Yes, sir. What do you need?" She was now all business.
"I just received a call here at the hotel in Alexandria and I need it traced. I'll hold while you check." After giving her the number, he could hear Penelope's fingers on her keyboard clicking away as he tried to regain his composure.
"Just give me a minute, Hotch. Are you okay, sir?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why? Don't I sound fine to you?"
"Frankly, sir…no you don't. You sound stressed. I have nothing, sir."
"Nothing? What do you mean nothing? How can you have nothing?"
"If whoever called you used a disposable cell there wouldn't be anything. I'm sorry, sir."
"No, no," Hotch replied, exasperated as he ran a hand over his dark hair. "Don't worry about it. I was just hoping you'd be able to trace it." Now he knew why the caller wasn't concerned about the call being traced.
"Hotch, is this call connected to who's after you? And please tell me the truth sir."
Hotch sighed. "I don't know, Garcia." He knew Penelope was sort of the mother hen of his team and worried about all of them as if they were her children and wouldn't hesitate to fight anyone tooth and nail who she believed was trying to hurt one of them. "And that's the truth."
"Yes, sir," Penelope said sadly. "Hotch, be careful. I want my boss-man to come back."
"I will." Hotch allowed a slight smile to appear. "And Garcia?"
"Yes, sir?"
"You're still my Queen of the all-knowing."
"Thank you, sir," Penelope replied with a slight smile on her still troubled face. She sighed as the call was disconnected.
Hanging up the phone, Hotch remembered the caller saying there was something outside his door for him. Snatching his Glock from its waist holster, Hotch cautiously approached his door, weapon aimed, and looked through the peephole before slowly opening the door looking right and then left. He saw nobody in either direction. With a sigh, he lowered his weapon and was about to turn when he saw an envelope taped to the outside of his door. Holstering his weapon, he quickly went back inside and grabbing his go-bag, pulled out a pair of latex gloves before opening the door again and removing the envelope. He then went back inside and closed the door. Looking over the envelope he noticed it was similar to the other; no return address, on either side. On the front, neatly typed was the familiar 'To Agent Aaron Hotchner'. Hotch placed the envelope on the table in front of him, sat down on the sofa, grabbed the phone and dialed. He waited several minutes until he heard a sleepy yet gruff and familiar voice.
"Rossi."
"Dave, it's Hotch. Can you come to my room right away. And bring the others with you."
Rossi, wiping the sleep from his eyes was suddenly awake sensing something was very wrong. "Hotch, what's wrong? Did something happen?"
"I'll tell you when you get here. Just get the others and come as soon as you can. And bring a pair of gloves and a plastic bag with you to hopefully preserve any prints."
"We'll be right there."
Hanging up, Hotch studied the envelope, somewhat hesitant at first to open it. He slowly picked it up noticing it wasn't sealed but that the flap was tucked inside instead. Nice way to avoid leaving saliva which could be used for a DNA check. Opening it, he removed a single sheet of paper and unfolded it. The message was clear and chilling and in block letters.
'You will pay for what you did to me, Aaron. Your time on this earth is limited. I hope you remembered to kiss your wife and son goodbye before they left because if you didn't, you've lost that chance as you won't live long enough to see them return. But I have no interest in your wife and son, Aaron. It is your blood I want to have run through my fingers, not theirs. Until we meet and we will meet and soon. Very soon, Aaron.'
So absorbed in reading the letter Hotch jumped when the knock on his door was heard. Again removing his weapon from its holster, he left the letter on the table and slowly got up. Pointing his weapon at the door, Hotch quickly stepped to the door. "Who is it?" he asked nervously.
"Aaron? It's Dave. I have JJ, Reid, Emily and Morgan with me."
Hotch looked through the peephole before unlocking the door, and after allowing his team to enter the room, closed and locked the door. "It's on the table," he said motioning with his weapon to the letter before sticking the Glock back in its holster.
Rossi and Morgan both approached the table putting on their gloves. Rossi picked up the letter first and read the message. With narrowed eyes he looked at his Unit Chief. "Where'd you find this?" he asked handing it to Morgan.
"It was taped to the outside of my door," Hotch explained running a hand over his hair knowing he'd better start at the beginning. "I got a phone call from someone who wouldn't speak at first but I sensed someone was there on the other end. I hung up and then the phone rang again." Hotch then proceeded to repeat the one-sided conversation.
Morgan handed the letter off to Reid who had put on his gloves. JJ and Emily read the letter looking over his shoulders. "Did you contact Garcia?" Morgan asked. "Was she able to trace the call?"
"Yes I did and no she wasn't. He was possibly using a disposable cell," Hotch answered.
"Well, I guess we can rule out that our UnSub is delusional," Emily remarked.
"Not really," Reid said tucking the letter back inside its envelope. "I would say the UnSub has shown that the other attorneys were killed out of frustration at him not being able to get to Hotch, and now that he's found him he's definitely watching to make sure he keeps track of him. But he still manifests symptoms of being delusional because of a false belief in which despite evidence to the contrary, he believes Hotch is to blame for his situation. Also, he seems to show evidence of having an antisocial personality disorder."(1)
"And if he's following and watching you, then I'd say the best thing is to get you somewhere where he can't get to you," Morgan explained. "Because like it or not, man, you are this UnSub's target and have been from the beginning."
"In addition to that," Reid added. "Despite having a brother, he doesn't seem to have a close relationship with him as evident by him telling Hotch that he wants him to remember his name and him, not us or our name."
Hotch rubbed the back of his neck as he began pacing. "I am not going to hide in Quantico," he hissed. "We're here to do a job and assist the police in catching a serial killer and that's what we're going to do."
"Hotch…." Emily began, but her boss held up a hand stopping her mid-sentence.
"No. My decision is final. We will continue with this investigation as we normally would any other. Besides, maybe my being this UnSub's target might be a blessing."
"How do you see that?" asked JJ.
"If he's after me, then he might just get careless and try to get to me allowing us to catch him without anybody else being hurt."
"According to what we know so far I think our killer won't come after you unless he can get you alone somehow," said Reid. "He won't make a move on you in a crowd as it's not his style based on the other murders."
Rossi sighed knowing it would be impossible to change his friend's mind once it had been made up. "Aaron, listen to me. We need to get you someplace where you'll be safe from harm. If you won't allow us to protect you for our own reasons, then let us protect you for Haley and Jack. Haley needs you and Jack needs his father."
Hotch pursed his lips and shook his head. "Dave, that's not fair to bring Haley and Jack into this."
"Whoever said life was fair," Rossi stressed with hands on hips.
He stood outside across the street from the hotel when Hotch and his team were staying. Down on one knee in the bushes, he lit a cigarette, inhaled, and exhaled the smoke through his nose. He was feeling very relaxed right now. He was glad he had purchased the disposable phone earlier in the day as it came in handy and most importantly, it wasn't traceable. And he made sure nobody was around when he taped the envelope to the agent's door. He smirked as he puffed away. He didn't care anything about Hotchner's team or even his family. He had no intention of harming any of them, if at all possible. He only wanted one thing, and that was Aaron Hotchner. Nothing else mattered to him at all. He would pay for sending him to prison all those years ago. Sticking the cigarette between his lips, he reached inside his inner jacket pocket and removed a current wallet-size snapshot of the FBI profiler and chuckled as he stared at it.
Removing the cigarette from his lips he made a noise with his mouth. "I will have you in my grasp in another forty-eight to seventy-two hours, Aaron. And when I do, I'm going to rip you to shreds just so I can hear you scream before I end your miserable life. We shall see how much endurance you have and how much tolerance you have for pain before the end. And as I told you on the phone, you might not know my name now, but you will know it before you meet your maker. So enjoy what little time you have left, Aaron, because you're never gonna leave Alexandria alive."
Rossi continued looking at his friend as he paced for a few minutes. Finally, Hotch looked at his friend. "I'm sorry, Dave, but I can't and won't run and hide. I suggest we all try and get some rest as we have a busy day tomorrow. I want what wasn't completed today to be completed tomorrow so we can give a profile by four p.m. tomorrow afternoon. I also request that when the profile is given, that my connection to the UnSub be kept out of it. This is strictly about the five murdered attorneys, not me. Is that understood?" He glanced at each member and when nobody offered a different opinion, he then glanced at Morgan. "Derek, I need you to be in charge until I get back from Quantico. I want our lab to check this letter and envelope for prints and DNA. Also, as only somebody of equal title can go into my office and through my desk, I want Rossi to come with me. Dave, we need to see if there's anything we can get off the first letter although I doubt it at this point."
Rossi shook his head grimly. "Aaron, you're too close and personally involved. Perhaps you should stay out of it. If you want, we can call another Unit Chief to go into your office and get that letter."
"Yes, I can make a call and have another Unit Chief go into my office, get the letter from my desk and take it to the lab. And I have no qualms about doing that and under different circumstances I would. But can I trust that person to not ask questions or report to Strauss when my prints are found on a letter that I supposedly haven't seen yet." He and Rossi looked into each other's eyes for a long few minutes. Finally, Rossi looked at his friend.
"You'd better get going, then," said JJ. "Perhaps you can beat the traffic back to Quantico." She watched as Rossi took the letter from Reid and slid it into a plastic bag for protection and put the bag into his inner jacket pocket. She then faced Hotch for what she hoped would not be the last time.
"As soon as we hear something we'll be in touch," Hotch told her hoping he sounded positive.
"You guys be careful," Emily told them nervously.
"Always am," Hotch replied with a forced smile. He tossed Rossi the keys to his SUV. "You drive. At least you've had some sleep," he kidded.
(1) Terms are from the Criminal Minds Fan site, courtesy of the Criminal Minds Psychology 101.