"Tara, Luke," Emily ushered them into the conference room where Garcia was already seated with her laptop before her.
"Reid was right," Luke started. "We talked to the families of Jason Seidenberg, the accountant with the shredded running shoes and Chelsea Sorenson, the homemaker with the dead mouse."
"George Davies' family lives in New York. He was a widower, his wife died last year." Lewis related. "His two married sons both live in Rochester, New York and haven't seen their father for a couple of years. According to his neighbours, he used to have a big dog, a collie that barked. A lot."
"There was no sign of a dog in his house though," Luke added.
"Hmm," Prentiss thought for a moment, then turned to Garcia, "Penelope, see what comes up about George Davies on that" she indicated Garcia's laptop.
"On it, Boss."
Luke and Tara waited for Prentiss' attention to return to them, and then Alvez continued. "Chelsea Sorenson's husband Adam had a cat before they got married. Twin sons joined their little family a year later. We talked to Adam, and apparently after the babies were born, the cat was outside more often than not and brought home mice several times."
"One of the neighbours said Chelsea thought the babies were at risk and wanted the cat gone. Said she told her she'd stopped feeding it or letting it into the house, essentially abandoning it." Lewis contributed.
"Oh god, that's terrible," Prentiss opined, an avid cat owner herself. She thought briefly about her Sergio and the lengths to which she'd gone to ensure her cat's safety and wellbeing during her own frequent absences.
Garcia interjected, "Whoa. So, this George Davies was all over the news last year, not long after his wife died. He was charged with animal cruelty when a neighbour called Animal Control. The dog had been barking and barking and this neighbour said he'd complained about it several times. And suddenly there was never any dog barking. So they called Animal Control again and they discovered the poor collie tied up in the yard. Wearing a muzzle. Which had been tightly taped up to keep him quiet. For days. Oh my god, I can't even—"
Alvez swore under his breath and Lewis shook her head in disgust and spoke, "Anyone could have seen that in the news. But how would our unsub have known about the cat? Or the Seidenberg dog," she explained, "Jason Seidenberg was angry that their dog kept chewing up shoes and told his teenagers he was going to give the dog away. They were upset when they came home from school and found that the dog was gone."
"The school," Prentiss mused. She turned to the map they had tacked to the wall and picked up a marker. There were already three big 'X's on the map signifying the residences of the three victims. While they were all in different areas of the subdivision, the local high school was central to the residences.
"Penelope, is there any connection between the Seidenbergs and the Sorensons?" she asked. Garcia tapped away at the computer. Turning to Alvez and Lewis, she inquired, "What happened to the Seidenberg dog?"
"It was surrendered to the pound," Alvez scowled.
"Oh my," Garcia interrupted. "Here we go. The Sorensons employ a teenage girl from that high school as a babysitter. Her name is Eva Middleton and guess what? Her next-door neighbours are the Seidenbergs. And—this has stressor and trigger written all over it—her parents were divorced a couple of years ago and her mother just got remarried last month."
"When these murders started," Lewis pointed out.
"And her new stepfather, who is a DC police officer, is allergic to cats."
Prentiss sighed. "Let me guess. So she has to get rid of her cat."
Garcia nodded.
"I don't like where this is going," Prentiss told them, reaching for her phone to call the DCPD as well. "Let's go pick her up."
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The buzzer went off indicating there was a visitor downstairs and Spencer hurried to speak to the caller. It was Maureen, who wasn't taking 'no' for an answer.
"I'm not sure she's ready to talk to anyone, Maureen," he warned.
"She doesn't have to talk. Just listen," Maureen replied. "Please let me up."
Somewhat reluctantly, Spencer pressed the button that would remotely unlock the front door and allow Maureen access to the building. He had less than two minutes to prepare Grace for the arrival of her well-intentioned friend.
"Grace, sweetheart?" he ventured, entering the bedroom quietly.
She was sitting up in the bed, clutching a pillow against herself.
"Who was at the door? Did you send them away?"
"It's Maureen, and she'll be here momentarily."
"I don't want to see her. Or anyone."
"Yeah, I told her that. She's on her way up anyway."
Unbelievably, she laughed. He smiled in return.
The doorbell went and Spencer moved to admit Maureen.
After giving him a hug, Maureen whispered, "Why don't you go out for a while? I bet after three and a half days in here you must be ready to climb the walls."
He saw the wisdom in her words, nodded, and grabbing a coat and his phone, left to go for a walk.
Maureen took a deep breath and headed for the bedroom.
"Well hello stranger," she greeted Grace, and without pausing made her way to the window and opened the curtains as wide as they could go to admit the sunlight. After three days of rain and dreary weather—both inside and outside the apartment Maureen was sure—she was determined to make Grace feel a little more sunny herself.
"I brought you some flowers. But they need sunlight too, so I expect this curtain to be left open, even after I'm gone."
Grace nodded.
"I'm here to give you some tough love, you know that, right?" Maureen told her.
Again Grace nodded.
Softening for just a moment, Maureen patted Grace's hand with her own good hand, "I'm truly sorry about your loss, Honey. Yours and Spencer's loss," she pointed out. "It's never fair and it's never easy," Maureen commiserated, sitting on the bed beside Grace. A single tear rolled down Grace's cheek and she took Maureen's hand.
"Everybody at Hetherington's sends their love." Maureen told her.
"Thank you. How is everyone?" Grace asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Well, let's see. Albert's had a couple of good days. LaMarr passed his latest exams; he's one step closer to being a nurse. So exciting."
"It is," Grace agreed. "He's so good."
"The weather has sucked. Diana was complaining about not being able to go feed Chitter. And Iris has her hands full with you off and me only half-there," Maureen waved her broken wrist and snorted as she giggled, "And Rhonda wants you back ASAP. Apparently, I'm useless at reading Shakespeare," Maureen said with a laugh.
She waved her cast-encased wrist again and joked, "And obviously, shuffleboard is still off."
Grace laughed. Maureen smiled widely. "That's better. Listen," she paused for emphasis, "You grieve. You have every right to. You've suffered a tremendous loss. Both of you have. But you will pick up the pieces and carry on, Grace. You will never forget this loss but don't let it destroy you. And don't let it destroy the love you and Spencer have."
Grace nodded and gave Maureen a brave little smile.
"Listen to me, I'm a freakin' psychologist now," Maureen rolled her eyes as she spoke. "But seriously. Promise me. Promise yourself. And Spencer. You will grieve and feel this loss, but you can draw from it and emerge with greater strength than ever." She gripped Grace's arm and shook it with conviction as she spoke.
"I don't know."
"Yes, you will, Grace. Where's the spunky nurse I went to college with? The one who stormed the dean's office with me when they wanted to pull the funding for specialist studies? The one who led the charge back to that fraternity house and demanded they release the stolen goat? The one who—"
"Okay, okay. I get it," Grace told her, a slight smile forming on her lips. She stared down at her pillow for a long moment, and then picked it up and cuddled it gently. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she confided, "I wasn't even sure I was pregnant, Maureen. I was late, way late. Over a month. But there's been so much stress and, well, I've missed periods before."
Maureen reached out and took one of Grace's hands again.
"And I puked a couple of times. But I thought it was the tomato soup. I mean, I suspected it; I wanted to be pregnant, but I wasn't totally sure."
"You hadn't told Spencer yet, had you?"
Grace shook her head miserably, "No. I wanted to be sure. I made a doctor's appointment. And then," a sob threatened to choke her, "and then I lost it. I lost the baby. I lost our baby."
Maureen waited while Grace cried for a moment again, drawing her friend into her arms.
"Don't forget, Grace, Spencer lost this baby too. I don't mean to make you feel guilty or anything, but remember he has some grieving to do too. Perhaps you could grieve together? You should go through this journey together."
Grace nodded emphatically.
"Well then," Maureen rose to her feet and taking Grace's hand in hers, drew Grace to her feet as well. "Let's go get something to eat."
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