Thank you to those who are reviewing and reading this. It's been a busy week, and this one promises to be worse. We're appointing a new headteacher at my school this week, which means three days of interviews, and as a governor, I have a role to play on top of my usual duties. I'll hopefully get a chapter up midweek, and that extra I keep promising to those who have reviewed as soon as it is written!

This hasn't been beta'd as it's only just been finished, so I apologise for any mistakes. Hi to Chiroho – I've been too blooming busy to do anything that resembles fun this week!

"Where the Blue of the Night

"Observe all men, thyself most."

- Benjamin Franklin

Chapter Twenty One

November 7th

She was in a cellar. It wasn't cold or uncomfortable. There was a gas fire, which did concern her with regards to carbon monoxide poisoning, but it was warm and toasty, and a large settee which was clearly where she was meant to sleep. There was a microwave, sink and fridge, and a separate toilet. It was better than the last time.

Like the last time, she didn't cry. Unlike the last time, she didn't suspect that she was going to be harmed in any way. Her going missing was a punishment for someone, and although logic would imply it was Emily, Sophie doubted that for some reason.

He'd been nice enough when she'd gotten into the car. He'd shown her his badge and recounted a couple of stories about Emily – something to do with falling off step ladders and another about locking herself out of her apartment. Then he'd taken her to his house, bolted the door behind them, and apologised. They'd been no violence, just the threat of a gun, and the inkling that he would use it if pressed.

She'd tried to reason with him, but his plans were made and set in stone – they seemingly had been for some time although she was a recent addition. He had a point to prove, and he would do so. The thing he wanted most had been taken away from him, although Sophie doubted it had ever been his to start with.

She didn't say that, of course. Instead, she listened, trying to learn as much as possible, agreeing with a nod here and there, and keeping her own feelings in check. He said he was a fair person, and she hadn't done anything that warranted punishment. Therefore as long as she helped his cause she would come to no harm.

He'd led her, relaxing his gun, downstairs to the cellar where she'd been left alone. She'd looked around first, finding the fridge well stocked, fresh fruit in plentiful supply. There was a television with no aerial, but a DVD player and stack of movies to watch, plus a bookcase full of classics. Totally different to last time.

Sophie lifted a hand and touched the side of her head that still ached sometimes, a reminder of what had happened in Calverville. She dreamt about it some nights, a constant nightmare, various endings playing before her eyes as her subconscious dealt with the after effects. She'd been reading about the psychology of victims that had survived; how they moved on; if they moved on. She knew she never would completely, and now there was this.

There was a good chance that the message she had left on Agent Rossi's answer phone would be wiped. There was a good chance that no one on the team would know she was missing. Therefore she had to do something, something to make her presence known.

He'd let her keep her luggage, even going as far as pushing it to the top of the stairs for her. Clearly intelligent, yet he'd not though to check the contents of her case, probably assuming it was all clothing. It wasn't. She had her notebook computer in there, and the USB stick that enabled her to use the internet, although the chances of being able to use it were slim.

Somehow though, there would be a way to get in touch with Emily, and get out of there before things escalated.

It had been something she'd been expecting. Garcia, if she ever found out, would be annoyed with him, that he'd done such a thing just after she had been injured, but Hotch knew better than to stick around until the 'right time'. She could smell insincerity like a fart in a car, and besides, she knew this would happen. He needed time to consider what was happening, and her being in his space – when they were sharing such a small amount of space with so many others to start with – was not going to be conducive to that thought process. And there was the small matter with their UnSub being intent on harming them. Or worse.

Hazy memories were the best she could produce, and there was the chance they would not get any clearer. Focusing on them would, at the moment, provide frustration rather than clarity, so therefore she tried to turn her attention to the information she was now reading through. Kevin was proving to be worth his weight in chocolate, having dug up further information on the missing Jennifer Keeley, the woman initially suspected by Juliet Fletcher and Geoff Thompson for abducting Alfie.

There had still been no news of her; relatives had claimed ignorance of her whereabouts; friends had expected to attend the convention and there had been no activity from her bank account or credit cards. She was technically a missing person, although no one had yet gotten around to filling in the report, a fact that Garcia had found slightly traumatising.

Emily had rung Ms Fletcher, recapping the letters that she had received in the past. She had never had any evidence that they were from Jennifer Keeley, she had simply concluded that they were from her. Then there had been the expected annoyance from Ms Fletcher, an outpouring of emotion as to why they hadn't found her son yet. Emily hadn't tried to stop the words, knowing that such a barrage could only last a few minutes, and it did. Then she had been able to ask question about Geoff Thompson, whom Ms Fletcher had seen nothing of since Agent Rossi had met with him at his cabin.

The conversation didn't solve anything further, but it did make Emily think. Walking slowly, she made her way to the room that Garcia and Kevin had occupied, a constant supply of candy littering the large desks that had been pushed together. She raised her hand to Garcia as she entered, preventing the telling off that was about to be administered before it could begin.

"Geoff Thompson," she said, looking at Kevin, Garcia's lips still poised to speak. "What's he been up to the past few days?"

Kevin nodded, beginning to rapidly type and seach.

"You should still be in bed," Garcia said. "Sugar plum – we need you healthy, we need..."

"Thank you, Garcia," Emily said, surprising herself by how normal she sounded. "Kevin?"

"There's nothing big. He bought gas and food near to where he has his cabin, so it looks like he's still there," Kevin said, looking up from his screen. "There's still no activity on any of Jennifer Keeley's accounts. And I'm no doctor, but she'd be chronically low on her insulin by now."

Emily nodded. They hadn't known until Kevin had done some further searching, but Keeley was diabetic, and dependant on her insulin shots. She'd had two spells in hospital in the past eighteen months when she'd fallen into a diabetic coma, and by now, she would be almost out of her mediation. "I suspect something has happened to her."

"Geoff Thompson?" Kevin said.

"Maybe," Emily frowned as she thought. "We need to send someone to interview him again. Have a look round his property."

Garcia shook her head. "There is, my poppet, no chance of you leaving this place until Wednesday at the soonest, unless it's to go home or to the hospital."

Emily gave a half nod. Garcia was right; she couldn't drive, and the thought of being in a vehicle made her feel nauseous. "I'll go tell Hotch. Thompson's inactivity surprises me though. If he had something to do with it, then why is he still in the middle of nowhere – and what would he have to gain by her disappearance?"

"Nothing," Garcia said. "But people do strange things under moments of intense worry and distress." She looked knowingly at Emily and Emily wondered what Garcia had figured out. She didn't ask, however, instead giving a quick nod, and taking her leave, wanting to hunt down Hotch to see if there was any possibility of sending someone to re-interview Geoff Thompson.

She found him outside, sat wrapped up in a thick coat on an old bench, underneath a tree that had long since shed its leaves.

"You shouldn't be out," he said, his eyes maintaining the warmth she'd seen in them regularly over the past couple of weeks, although his face looked stony.

"I feel okay, and I'm taking things easy," she said, standing in front of him. "There's still no sign of Jennifer Keeley."

"What are you thinking?"

"That it's odd for a woman like her to go missing without a trace."

He sat up a little straighter, which Rossi would have said was almost impossible, and looked at her seriously. "You know, with everything that's happening we're not carrying out this investigation as thoroughly as we would usually do. We should have still been looking for her."

Emily nodded, her head hurting with the action, and she sat down next to her boss. "Geoff Thompson has been inactive for the past few days. He's not left the area around his cabin. Rossi commented on the strangeness of his attitude towards his son when he interviewed him. I wonder if he was trying to appear to distance himself from Alfie."

"So as not to create suspicion as to anything that he may have done – we need to create a timeline of Thompson's movements from the time Ms Fletcher said that Alfie was missing. I'll get Kevin onto it," Hotch said. "Then we'll contact Thompson and send Rossi back out there with one of Boyd's men."

Emily smiled, feeling cold in the chill air.

"You're shivering," Hotch said, standing up. "You need to be taking it easy."

"That's easy to say, Hotch, but if the roles were reversed then you wouldn't be sat in front of bad chat shows doing nothing. We're already down Morgan for the next couple of days at least." She found herself glaring at him. She knew he cared, that couldn't just be switched off like a light before bed, but it hurt that he was removing himself from her, and that pain was only just starting to kick in.

"No, you're right. And if you want something to keep you occupied then I have a pile of files that need a second person to look through," he said, his tone conceding something other than defeat.

"I'll go sit in the lounge," she said. "If you could bring the files to me there, that would be great."

He nodded, walking off and leaving her in the cold.

Reid looked out of the window onto the parking lot for the officers that were based at the station. There were several police vehicles, all clearly marked, and some that were not, but still obviously police cars to the trained eye. Mr and Mrs Moore were being led out to an unmarked vehicle, his arm around her waist, every sign of solidarity present.

"It's not him," Reid said, turning his stare to Rossi. "There was no hint of a lie in anything he said. Had he been the UnSub I would have expected him to have said less about knowing Alfie Fletcher, to have been more evasive, but he was anything but."

"You don't think it's some clever cover up?" JJ said, still looking at the Moores as they got into the vehicle assigned to take them back home.

"I don't see how it can be. There would have been some sign, some recollection of the other children..."

"He's not the link; she is," Rossi said, interrupting. "They've only just married, according to what Kevin found out. And he only moved to the area five years previously – after the abductions of the first two kids."

"If you think it could be Martha Moore who's the UnSub, then we've got the profile all wrong," Reid said. "We were looking for a predatory paedophile. Female paedophiles are almost non-existent."

"We made an assumption based on a lack of evidence and knowledge. There have never been any signs of sexual abuse on the remains because decomposition was too far advanced. We followed the correct process, Reid, but sometimes there's an anomaly that could never have been predicted," Rossi said, looking unsurprised. "Reid, you and JJ go to Martha Moore's school. Interview her colleagues under the pretence of finding out general information. I'll stay here and speak with the next John. I'll keep Hotch informed."

"I'm just going to check on Dorothy's house before I go back to school," Martha said as they watched the police officer drive off. John nodded, giving her a weak smile. She knew the trip to the police station had worried him. He didn't like things like that. Maybe she should encourage him to go fishing for an afternoon or something to calm him down and get things in perspective.

"Sure," he said as the door opened. She walked off to her neighbour's feeling just a little jittery. John hadn't asked her why she was carrying the two lunchboxes still. He hadn't noticed. In fact, he didn't notice much. Not like her.

She noticed everything.

Please review – I need them to keep me going at the moment!

Sarah x