Welcome back to this weeks segment of Shadowpup's Suspenseful Shenanganisms. I want to give a big shout out to those who review regularly. You all know who you are. :) Thanks for the support and input. All totally appreciated. Now on with the show. Enjoy.

Before meeting the team, Hotch had arranged with the switchboard to transfer any of his incoming calls to the conference room's phone. He had assumed that Doyle would personally contact him and he was not disappointed when the phone rang. He glanced over at Garcia who gave him a thumbs up that the trace was ready.

Putting the phone on speaker so that the rest of the team could listen in, he said "Aaron Hotchner."

"I assume you got my message?"

"I want to talk to my son," Hotch demanded, getting straight to the point.

Doyle chuckled. "I'm afraid that isn't possible. Do you think I am stupid enough to call you from the same place I am keeping your son? Garcia, are you running the trace on me?"

Penelope's eyes jerked up from the computer screen in shock. Nervously she glanced around the room. Morgan laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"No, I don't," Hotch answered, drawing Doyle's attention back on him.

"I want my son, Agent Hotchner."

"You're son?" Hotch asked pretending to be confused. "According to our files your son is dead."

"Certainly the late Lauren Reynolds, excuse me, Emily Prentiss told you what she did with my son."

Morgan bristled at the way Emily's name slid off of Doyle's tongue.

"Emily," Hotch said, placing special emphasis on her name, "Never told us about you so why would she tell us about your son? Declan, I believe his name was."

"Yes, Declan. Seems you have a bigger problem than you thought. Tell you what. You have 72 hours, starting now, to turn my son over to me. One second longer and you can kiss your son goodbye," he threatened and hung up.

Hotch turned to Garcia. "Anything?"

Penelope studied the screen and shook her head slowly. "He used a burner phone. I've got it pinned down to one cell tower but that covers a big area. Sorry."

"And by the time we got there," Rossi pointed out, "Doyle would be long gone. He didn't become a terrorist by being dumb."

"We bought ourselves some time," Hotch said. "We're lucky he didn't demand an immediate exchange."

"So what do we do now?" Reid asked.

"We develop the profile and shift through what Morgan has uncovered."

"Shouldn't we start looking for Declan?" Morgan asked.

Hotch folded his hands on the table. "I prefer to keep him out of the equation for now. We might be able to find Doyle without him. But…" he paused and sighed, "if we come up empty handed then we will have to involve Declan."

"I don't like the idea of using a child as a pawn," JJ protested.

Hotch looked at her. "I don't like it either," he confessed. "But we may not have any choice."

"Doyle doesn't have any qualms about it," Reid said.

"That is what makes us different from him, Reid," Rossi said. "We care."

"Exactly," Hotch agreed. "Lets get to work."

Over the next several hours, the team goes over everything Morgan had unearthed with a fine-toothed comb. No leaf was left unturned. The smallest of leads was followed to its eventual dead end. They brainstormed, tossing out ideas and examining them from every angle. The most obscure clues were fully vetted.

"We're getting no where," Morgan said in frustration. Leaning back in his chair, he put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

"I can't think straight," JJ said, trying in vain to suppress a yawn.

Hotch looked at his watch and blinked in surprise. He hadn't realized how late it was. "Look, it's one o'clock in the morning. Let's call it a night. Everyone go home and get some sleep."

JJ looked at him. "Are you going home?"

"No." Hotch couldn't bear the thought of going home to an empty house.

"Then I am staying," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Me too," Reid chimed in.

"You know my answer," Rossi said with a raised eyebrow.

Hotch looked at team and felt a surge of fondness for them.

"Thank you. We still need to get some sleep so lets break into two four-hour shifts. We can use the offices."

He looked at JJ, Morgan and Garcia. "Why don't you three take the first shift? We can change at 5 a.m. Does that work?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good." Hotch turned to Morgan. "Morgan, when you come back, start looking for Declan."

"Got it."

Morgan nudged Garcia who had her head resting in her hand, eyes closed, glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose. "Wake up, Baby Girl. Time to go nighty night."

She gave him a sleepy smile. "You going to tuck me in?"

"As snug as bug in a rug."

"Ooo…that sounds kinky."

"Only to you, Baby Girl. Only to you."

At 5 a.m. they switched shifts. Before heading off to catch some shuteye, Hotch told them what they had found and it was not good. Nothing new came to light. Hopefully Morgan and the ladies would have better luck in tracking down Declan's location.

"Finding Declan is going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack," Garcia said as the three of them sat down, fresh coffees in hand. "Emily could have stashed him anywhere."

"True," JJ agreed.

Morgan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Why did Emily come back here?"

"Family?" Garcia volunteered.

JJ shook her head. "She wasn't close to her mother."

"She hid Declan here," Morgan concluded.

"That makes sense," JJ said. "He's far enough away to be safe but close enough for her to keep an eye on."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Well that narrows it down to Washington D.C. and all the out laying areas in Virginia and Maryland. Smaller haystack."

"You know," JJ said as she tapped her pen on the table. "Emily would have had to get Declan a new identity."

"Right. A forger. We can check Emily's foreign and domestic connections."

Morgan frowned. "We don't know who her connections were. Personally, I would go domestic. She probably needed the Id after she got him into the country."

Garcia's eyes sparkled at the prospect of a new search. "Domestic forgers from here. I'll include Boston since that is where it all went down." Her fingers danced over the keyboard.

He looked at JJ. "At least now I feel like we're making some progress."

JJ agreed. "Damn," she said suddenly, placing a hand to her waist.

"What?"

"I left my phone at my desk. I was going to call Henry and wish him a good morning. I'll be right back." She hopped up and headed for the bullpen.

While the computer hummed away in delight, Garcia turned worried eyes to Morgan. "We are going to get Jack back, right?"

Morgan gave her hand a squeeze. "We will. I guarantee it."

JJ returned a few minutes later with a concerned look on her face. "Everything all right?" Morgan asked as she sat down.

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "Garcia while the computer is spelunking for forgers, could you run a quick check on this name?"

She peered at the phone. "Sure."

Morgan leaned forward. "Does this name have anything to do with Doyle?"

She shook her head. "Just a person of interest from an old case at the State Dept."

"All done," Garcia announced. "There wasn't much and its on the way to your phone."

"Thanks, PG." JJ rose from her seat. "I have to go make some calls."

"Go." Morgan made a shooing motion. "Baby Girl and I got it." JJ laughed and left.

A few minutes later the computer beeped. Garcia quickly ran her eyes over the list. "I've got twenty-five names here. We need to narrow it down."

"Yes." Morgan leaned back, rolling his pen between his fingers. "It can't be just anyone. It had to be someone Emily trusted."

Penelope's eyes widen when idea clicked in her mind. "Wasn't that guy who was killed along with Emily's friend a forger? Bob Connelly?"

"Ben Correlli," Morgan corrected.

"He's on the list," she all but crowed in triumph. "And didn't we process his belongings?"

"We did."

Garcia leapt from her chair, rushed to the window and looked out over the bullpen that was starting to fill up with the day shift. Spotting the person she wanted, she opened the door and yelled, "Anderson!"

Within minutes Anderson's head poked through the door. Yes, Miss Garcia?" he squeaked. Morgan hid a smile behind his hand.

"We need the evidence from the Ben Correlli case. Pronto," she ordered.

"On it, he said and fled.

Morgan shook his head in silent laughter. "Baby Girl, don't you think it's time to ease up on the man? I think you have punished him enough for accidentally leaning against Emily's desk."

Garcia grinned wickedly. "Oh, I haven't even started. I like having my own boy toy slave."

Hotch laid on the couch in his office staring at the ceiling. Sleep was proving to be an elusive animal. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Jack. Images flashed through his mind: holding Jack for the first time, bringing him to the BAU and proudly showing him off, Jack and Haley at play in the park, scoring his first goal. Faster and faster the images flew by leading Hotch to believe he watching on film his own life. It was a pleasing viewing until the final frame when Doyle reared his ugly head. Hotch's eyes would fly open while his heart frantically tried to beat its way out of his chest.

He rolled his head to one side when he heard the office door slowly open and JJ cautiously poking her head in.

"I didn't wake you did I?" she asked when she saw him looking at her.

"No," he said, sitting up and absently tighten his tie. "Haven't been able to fall asleep. I keep seeing Jack."

"I'm sorry," she said in sympathy.

He nodded his thanks. "What's up?"

JJ moved into the room and softly closed the door. "It's about Emily. She's here."

Hotch sat up straighter. "In the country?"

She nodded.

"How did you find out? Did she contact you?"

"No," JJ said, grabbing one of the visitor chairs and turning it around. Quickly she sat down. "After Emily was relocated to Paris, I asked Garcia to whip up a little program that can monitor certain names. I entered the three alias I had given her."

"And?"

JJ consulted her phone. A Mallerie Santure passed through customs at JFK at 2 am. Emily then made her connecting flight to Richmond, Virginia which landed a little before 5."

"Richmond?" he asked puzzled. "Not Washington?"

"Nope. Richmond and then the trail went cold. Does she think Doyle is there?"

Hotch shook his head. "I don't believe so. I think Emily is simply covering her tracks. She doesn't want us to find her until she is ready. She'll probably get here by bus or by train where she can pay cash. No paper trail, no trace. Essentially she's a ghost."

"So what do we do? I don't like it that she's out there on her own with no to watch her back," JJ said with a voice tinged with worry.

"I don't either," Hotch said with a shrug, "but there is nothing we can do until she contacts us and she will."

Hotch studied his shoes for a minute then looked at JJ. She could tell from his face that he had made up his mind about something. She waited patiently.

"It's time," he declared.

JJ frowned. "For what?"

"Time to tell the team about Emily."

Wasn't that a wonderful line to end with? I thought so. Now I have you all right where I want you. Eagerly waiting for the next. Wicked aren't I?