Chapter 7: Politics
Hotch's fingers were fidgeting as he considered whether to actually do this phone call or not. He had dreaded it for the past hour, hoping Emily would just reappear and make it unnecessary. But it was now ten minutes past eleven and his agent had officially gone missing for seven hours. And, as JJ had pointed out earlier, Elizabeth Prentiss could maybe help them understand Lizzie's role in the plot. Hotch suppressed a sigh and opened the little notebook he always kept in his breast pocket, although today was a no-suit day for him and he had stashed the item into his briefcase. In there were all the emergency contact details for his agents, which he had hoped he would never have to use. Of course, these persons were all listed in the team members' personal files, but this copy was a four-leafed clove for Hotch, a way to keep tragedy away. His fingers brushed over Will's number and that of Derek Morgan's big sister, until he reached Elizabeth Prentiss' direct line.
"Elizabeth Prentiss' office." A soft voice spoke, and Hotch guessed that it was probably a secretary.
"I am Aaron Hotchner, a friend of Mrs. Prentiss' daughter. I would need to speak to Ambassador Prentiss most urgently." Hotch heard rustling on the other end of the line.
"Elizabeth Prentiss on the phone. Is this Agent Hotchner?" Under other circumstances, Hotch would have smiled at the harsh tone coming from that woman, which reminded him so much of Emily, except the lack of warmth.
"Yes, Ambassador Prentiss. I'm sorry to disturb you."
"Is something wrong with Emily?"
Hotch swallowed. Elizabeth Prentiss had always been a straightforward person.
"She's disappeared last night."
"What do you mean, disappeared?" She cut in, obviously upset at Hotch – or the Bureau, or maybe police work in general.
"She seems fine, I've spoken to her this morning, but we don't know where she is."
"So she hasn't actually disappeared." Hotch would very likely have burst out laughing, but he felt more like crying at the moment. Emily was right when she said that politics made people change and broke families apart.
"Ambassador, I am afraid there was a murder at your daughter's apartment last night." When his comment met only silence on the other end of the line, Hotch felt he had finally hit a soft spot.
"Who is it? Emily… she's alright?"
"We don't know at the moment. As I said, I've talked to her a few hours ago. Listen, that's not the only reason why I am calling."
"Tell me, what can I do? Maybe call friends or pull a few strings to find her." Hotch made a mental note to remember this proposition, which would come in handy if Garcia didn't get through.
"No, Ma'am, I already have my whole team working on it."
"Good."
"I need to ask you a few questions to clear the situation. Two persons were murdered last night in Emily's apartment…" Although it had become a habit for him, Hotch would have kicked himself for using Emily's first name in front of her mother. Hoping she hadn't noted the familiarity, he continued in a professional tone: "One of them was a young woman, named Lizzie."
He waited for an answer, and the long silence of Elizabeth Prentiss was exactly what he had been hoping for.
"Did you know Emily had a daughter?"
"Of course I know. I was the one to give her up for adoption." Hotch suppressed a sarcastic comment. Given how impressive the woman was today, even to a grown-up man like him, he couldn't quite imagine the pressure she had put on her own fifteen-years-old daughter.
"Did Emily have any contact with her?"
"No, not that I know of. She left her identity at the adoption services, in case Lizzie would someday want to meet her biological mother, but the girl never made any move."
"Are you absolutely sure of that?"
"Listen, Agent Hotchner. You know my daughter well enough to understand that we do not have a very close relationship as for now. But that's a big thing. I would like to believe Emily would have told me if she had seen Lizzie."
"Okay." Hotch didn't want to push it further. He really didn't need to put up a fight with a mighty ambassador while her daughter was missing.
Rossi was about to knock on his friend's door when he saw that it was already slightly open. The dark-haired man was seated at his desk and considering the bottle of Bourbon he had taken out of its secret place. The older agent came to stand in the door frame, and waited for Hotch to look up to him.
"I brought you coffee… but I see you prefer going for the strong alternative." He smirked before closing the door behind him. Whatever was going to be said in that room, no one else needed to overhear it.
"I was just thinking."
"Usually, people read in crystal balls, not half empty bottles." The agent sat down and put one of the cups in front of Aaron.
"Tell me." He continued, sipping at his own steaming beverage. Suddenly, the man across from him seemed to snap out of his daydream.
"What did you find out?"
"Blair Jeffrey has a solid alibi for last night: he was working at a local restaurant which serves 24/7. We talked to his wife. I think the man really turned his life around."
"Then we'll have to look somewhere else…" Hotch's eyes were boring holes into the open file in front of him.
"Strauss gave you the heads up?" Rossi asked with a surprised tone, nodding at the pictures of Emily's apartment sprayed over his friend's desk.
"She understands we care for our own." The words had escaped his lips although he did not realize how true they sounded. Their own.
"Hotch, you can step down if you don't feel like leading on this one." Hotch looked up and locked with David Rossi's gaze.
"Is it bad to care so much?" he genuinely asked before leaning back into his seat, astonished at his own honesty.
"It depends. If it keeps you from doing the job, then you should start reconsidering certain things…"
"Was I so disturbed when Morgan was arrested, or Reid abducted?" Hotch had come to the point where he would no more trust his own judgment. He needed Rossi's fresh and unforgiving eyes.
"We are not blind, Aaron. You care for each one of them, in a different way. But it's the first time since Haley's death I've actually seen you get out this bottle you were trying to hide from me…" Rossi finished his sentence with a warm and understanding smile, to lighten up the mood.
"Come on, I booked a ticket for you and Morgan to Kansas City. You fly in two hours. We can stay at the base and guide you."
Hotch nodded. Although his friendship with David Rossi dated back over ten years, he couldn't help being surprised each time at the man's patience and honesty. He was always a step ahead of all of them.
