My Life Had Stood
Chapter 6: Before I Got My Eye Put Out
He licked his lips, the blindfolded woman tied to the chair still struggling to free herself. That was impossible, the way she was tied ensured that. He smirked, approaching the chair. The sound of his footsteps scuffling towards her, caused the woman to tense.
Lips pressed firmly together, he didn't say anything though he wanted so badly to taunt the bound woman. Instead he simply picked up the serrated butcher's knife from his workbench.
"Please. Please let me go." The woman pleaded, crying beneath the blindfold. The man laughed. The knife he held gleamed beneath the yellow glow of the ceiling light above them.
He loved this part.
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"I understand. If she decides..." JJ's mouth twitched, the person she spoke to cutting her off. After arriving at the precinct's head office and setting up a work area, the BAU had split up to question witnesses and investigate. She and Lewis had decided to interview the victims.
The problem was that none of the victims wanted to be interviewed. Even the two who had agreed to be interviewed by police before, refused to be interviewed again. Not that they could be blamed for not wanting to relive the trauma foisted on them by the unsub.
"No dice on those interviews?" Lewis asked as JJ put down the phone, having just been hung up on. The frown on the blonde agent's face was answer enough.
"...I understand why they don't want to be interviewed." JJ cleared her throat, remembering when she'd been abducted and tortured. Her situation and that of these women were vastly different, but the emotional trauma, and fear, were similar. "Not wanting to relive what happened to them by talking about it. But..."
"Yeah," Lewis said her tone empathetic. She was about to expand further when JJ's phone rang.
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The neighborhood around them was quiet, with sparse traffic flow and few pedestrians. They stood in front of a cafe built amid a v-shaped intersection, across one street was a library and a YMCA, across the other were abandoned commercial buildings.
"This is a cozy little coffee shop." Rossi commented as he and Spencer entered. This was where the unsub's third victim had been dropped off.
"It's interesting that he even knew this place was here." Spencer replied, taking off his sunglasses as he entered the comfortably less bright cafe. Outside was bright, though thankfully not too hot.
The coffee shop was quite small with a few booths and a counter like those found in an old-fashion diner. Complete with spinning stools. Spencer counted seven people, not counting the employees, eating and chatting.
"Good afternoon." One of the two waitresses approached, hearing the door chime. "If you'll take a seat I'll be right with you."
"We're not here to eat." Rossi replied, showing his FBI credentials. "I'm SSA Rossi and this is Dr. Reid. We're here about the woman who was left here three weeks ago: Martha Anderson."
One of the women who seemed to be de facto in charge, took over from the one who greeted them. She waved them towards a booth.
"It's a terrible thing to have happened to her." The woman said after the two agents sat down, and she introduced herself as Jackie. She then called for coffee cups to be brought for the two agents, ignoring their polite declines/refusals. "Nonsense, it's on the house. You two are here to do something about those poor women, aren't you?"
Before either could respond, the waitress who'd greeted them came over with two coffee cups and a carafe half filled with freshly brewed coffee. She filled the two cups, leaving a bowl of single-serve creamers and sugar packets behind, as well as two spoons.
"Thank you." Spencer told the waitress, as did Rossi. Neither of them had expected to be ushered to a seat and treated to coffee while working, but considering how tight space was here it was probably done to not inconvenience other customers. He politely took a sip after putting in creamer and sugar.
"You mentioned 'those women,' how did you hear about the other victims?" Rossi questioned.
"I have a daughter who recently moved to Buffalo. She read in the paper about that woman being left outside a bus stop. It terrified her and she called me up about it." Jackie replied, turning her head habitually to greet customers at the sound of the door chime. "The next day that other woman - Martha, you said her name was? - showed up here."
"You were working that day?" Spencer asked, curious since Jackie's name hadn't been on the police report as a witness.
"I was supposed to be, but my grandson Eric had strep throat and I took him to his pediatrician." Jackie replied, elaborating that Eric was her son's child.
"Who was working at the time Ms. Anderson was dropped off?" Rossi inquired, leaning back in his seat while facing Jackie who stood next to the booth.
"That would be Phyllis." Jackie replied while turning her head to greet another customer walking in, as well as saying goodbye to a couple on their way out. She missed the look Rossi and Reid shared at the name Phyllis.
"Was Phyllis' last name Thomas by any chance?" Spencer asked, calculating the statistics on the 'Phyllis' Jackie had just mentioned, and the 'Phyllis' who was one of the unsub's victims being strangers who just happened to share the same name. Phyllis wasn't as common as 'Kate' or 'Jackie' but there was a chance the name was coincidental.
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact. She was staying in town for the month, but ended up losing too much at the casino so needed a job to avoid having to return home early." Jackie revealed, needing little prompting from the agents.
Spencer sucked in a breath, eyes glancing at Rossi. Here was a connection between two of their victims. As well as a slight one to a third.
"Do you know a young woman named Melissa Joyce?" Rossi asked after a pause, working on an hunch. Joyce's name hadn't been released to the public as she was seventeen, the youngest of the unsub's victims.
"Mellie? I knew her aunt Lisa. But she moved away last year after her aunt passed away." This time the glance shared between the two agents wasn't missed by Jackie. She immediately became alert. "What is it? What happened?"
"Phyllis Thomas and Melissa Joyce were victimized by the same man who dropped off Martha Anderson here." Rossi explained, reacting quickly when Jackie nearly collapsed in shock.
It didn't take long to seat Jackie in the neighboring booth and hand her a glass of water one of the waitresses brought over. The other waitress cleaned up the booth the two agents had been using - in the sudden rush to stop Jackie's fall, one of the two had knocked over the coffee cups. Both had been still plenty full at the time.
After a few more questions, mainly concerning if Jackie knew any of the other victims, Rossi and Spencer left the coffee shop.
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Sofa and love-seat a soft gray with a matching recliner snug in the corner of the room; a closed off brick fire place on which family photos were laid. Glancing at the living room from the foyer, Hotch noted how normal it seemed. Amy Vaughn, who they feared was their unsub's latest victim, was a normal mother and wife.
"Like I told the police, I was out of town on business for the past two weeks." Randy Vaughn, husband of the current victim, told Hotch and Morgan after inviting them in. He was agitated, though that was normal given the circumstances. "I got home around three this morning, Amy wasn't here."
"Your call to police occurred at 3:23 am. Not long after you got in. What made you suspicious that something happened to your wife and that she wasn't just out late with friends or visiting family?" Hotch asked while Morgan searched around the living room, dining room etc. Neither of them, nor had the police, saw any signs of a struggle.
"Amy...she didn't leave the house without me or one of our daughters with her." Randy replied, expression betwixt worry and frustration. "She has anxiety attacks even just going out to check the mail. I converted the old milk delivery box by the side door into a mailbox so she wouldn't need to worry. She even has groceries delivered whenever I was away on business and our daughters couldn't stop by. Amy wouldn't - couldn't - leave the house alone."
"What about friends? Would she be comfortable going out with them with her?" Hotch's gave Randy Vaughn a curious look when the latter gave a disparaging sigh at the question.
"Amy doesn't socialize much, outside of me and our daughters, Julie and Amber." He explained, pointing to a photograph above the fireplace. It was the four of them. "Julie's twenty-four, and is working on a doctorate in mathematics. Amber is seventeen."
"Mr. Vaughn..."
"You'll find Amy, won't you?" Randy asked, eyes tearing up after picking up the photo.
"We'll do everything we can to find her. I promise you that." Hotch replied.
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"Yes. Yes, we'll be right there." JJ told the person on the phone before ending the call. She glanced at Lewis, who questioned her with a look. "North Tonawanda police just found another victim."
"Amy Vaughn?" Lewis asked to which JJ shook her head. She was about to ask more, noticing by JJ's demeanor that something was different this time.
"The police haven't been able to identify her yet, but preliminary forensics has put her death between 40 to 42 hours ago."
"The unsub killed his victim this time?" Lewis said in a tone that was less questioning and more sickened. As well as fearful for the safety of Amy Vaughn, the most recent abductee. If the unsub had started killing his victims...
JJ had already started dialing Hotch's number while she and Lewis were heading toward the SUV.
"There's been another victim." JJ said after Hotch answered. "Police in North Tonawanda found her body in the river...she's been dead almost two days. Lewis and I are about to head there now."
-"What about the interviews with the previous victims?" Hotch inquired, he and Morgan were outside having completed their search and questioning of the Vaughn's He sighed frustrated when JJ explained that none of them would agree to an interview with them. "All right, I'll call Rossi. He and Reid are closer to that area so I'll have them meet you there." -
"Okay. What about you and Morgan?" JJ asked, getting into the passenger side while Lewis took the driver's seat.
-"We're going to try to figure out where Amy Vaughn was taken from. There's no sign of struggle at her house, and according to her husband she may have suffered from severe agoraphobia. So the unsub must've been someone she trusted and lured her out or grabbed her somewhere she felt safe." Hotch explained, he and Morgan just pulling out of the Vaughn's driveway. -
JJ said a quick goodbye and slipped her cell into her pocket.
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The unsub put down his knife, the blade covered in fresh blood. The blindfolded woman had passed out, her blindfold soaked with blood.
He smirked.
Staring down at the woman, he licked his lips. He'd only destroyed one of her eyes so far and she had screamed the entire time. He wondered how much more she would scream when he destroyed the other one.
"'Before I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see.'" He whispered in the woman's ear, quoting a poem he had heard years ago. Those words were all he said before returning to his workbench.
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A/N: I hoped you liked this chapter. The poem the unsub quotes at the end is one by Emily Dickinson (one of my favorite poets, this fic's title is also from one of her poems).
I updated the summary to this fic to reflect what I have planned for future chapters - this isn't just going to be a Reid/OC relationship fic...*sheepish chuckle* but will also have a plot dealing with Rossi.
I can't really say more without giving away plot, so...
Anyway, please review or favorite, etc. I'll update regardless, but it's nice to know what you readers think.