My Life Had Stood
Chapter 24: The Soul Has Moments of Escape
"Dave, how did it go? Did James say anything about Connell or Somerfield?" Hotch asked once he noticed Rossi entering the BAU bullpen area. The expression on his friend's face gave him pause, and he wondered if having Rossi visit James alone did more harm than good for the senior agent.
Rossi simply glowered at the case board photographs. His dark eyes focusing on Somerfield. He had questioned his son for nearly a hour and forty minutes longer, at first trying to get figure out why James hated Kenneth Connell despite James not knowing the Connells had been behind the switch. When it'd became clear that his son wasn't going to divulge the truth in that regard, Rossi had returned the conversation to Somerfield. Specifically to descriptions of the experiments Somerfield had subjected James to.
"Dave, what is it?" Hotch asked, concerned at just how angry Rossi was. Its intensity spoke towards there being more horrible things done to James than they'd thought.
"We need to get that son of a bitch in here now." Rossi seethed, his glare at the photograph of Morland Somerfield on the case board clarifying who he meant.
"...Garcia is attempting to track his current whereabouts as we speak. He seems to have gone of the grid since missing the flight he'd booked." Hotch looked his friend over. "We did manage to make a list of twenty-six potential families that Tobias Connell sold babies to. Excluding the two we already know about."
"Twenty-six?" Rossi gaped, disbelieving the number. It was difficult to imagine that twenty-six other families had gone through what he and Caroline had, as well as Isabel Kaurich.
"We're bringing them in and getting warrants for DNA tests. Considering that the story about James being switched is already in the media, I thought it best not to wait before bringing those families in." Hotch gave Rossi a look before handing him a folder. "One of the couples are already in prison, on second degree murder charges following the death of their son when he was ten."
"What is it with these people?" Rossi shook his head, frustrated and sickened. "I get being devastated after losing a child and that buying a replacement child could seem plausible under such grief. But to then go on and abuse the child that was a replacement for their own..." Rossi glowered, reading over the file. The dead boy had been severely abused and malnourished at the time of his death.
"I know, Dave. They're treating these children like child predators would. But that isn't surprising, considering that in over half of those twenty-six families at least one parent showed signs of being a pedophile. Mostly it was the men, but two of the women were also accused of molestation."
Rossi swore, enraged anew by the information. The fact that the Connells were dead, and thus outside the reach of law, did nothing to quell his indignation. "What about the rest of the children?"
"Five of the twenty-six had already been taken by child services before we even knew about James. Six others either died of various causes or went missing, two of them after they turned eighteen." Hotch paused, allowing the information to sink in before he continued. "Out of the remaining fourteen, we know of three that weren't abused."
Rossi gave Hotch a skeptical glance.
"In those three cases, the non-abusive parent left the abusive one and took the child with them before they were even a year old."
"Great, so out of twenty-six families, twenty-eight if you count the Wagners and Fletchers, only four families were not abusive." Rossi replied bitingly, his thoughts returning to the Wagners. If only Amy Vaughn had left her husband and taken James with her before he was abused. Perhaps then his reunion with his son would've been a happy occasion, instead of being marred by James' crimes.
"Dave...?"
"Hotch, did any of these twenty-six families have any connection to Somerfield?" Rossi asked.
"...only two of them." Hotch replied after a moment, knowing that this tidbit of info would be unwelcomed to Rossi.
"What? Only two?" Rossi shook his head, flabbergasted. "So that makes only four families who had any connection to Somerfield?
"With a direct connection, yes. But Somerfield did work at a few of the same hospitals as Tobias Connell. They may have had contact with Somerfield through Connell." Hotch paused, studying Rossi after the elder agent glowered again at Somerfield's photograph. "Dave, what is it? What did James say about Somerfield? What did you find out?"
"Enough to know that Morland Somerfield should be in prison more than James." He scowled, shaking his head at what James had told him.
Aside from the kitten incident, James had mentioned more occurrences when he had had to choose between mutilating some creature or being abused himself. He had also mentioned that Amy Wagner had abandoned him to Somerfield when James turned twelve.
"His experimentation wasn't just in sensory or sleep deprivation. That bastard of a doctor experimented in ways to create and reinforce sociopathic behaviors. Particularly violent ones."
Hotch froze. "Somerfield was trying to turn James into a killer?"
"That'd be my guess, based on what James said he went through during his sessions with Somerfield."
"Damn." Hotch mumbled and rubbed his head, his own outrage at what Rossi just told him tempered with new knowledge. Before Rossi could do more than glance at him questioningly, Hotch explained. "After Garcia gave Morgan the list of twenty-six families and victims of Connell's, she returned to searching for other women James may have attacked before New York. She found at least three previous victims that matched his M.O. of rape and enucleation.
Rossi cursed and rubbed his head, the information unwanted but not unexpected. They had profiled that James had likely raped and mutilated before. Which, Rossi realized, made Hotch's angry reaction seem just a tad off. "What is it, Aaron? What happened to these other victims..."
"They were killed."
Rossi felt as though the air in his lungs had been kicked out of him. "You're sure?...they didn't just succumb to their injuries?"
"I'm sorry, Dave. But these three others were deliberately murdered." Hotch handed Rossi the files pertaining to the newly uncovered victims. "Two were killed around eleven years ago. One just four years ago."
"They're all brunettes." Rossi commented, while leafing through the files. He recalled how Spencer had profiled that James had deliberately chosen his most recent victims to not match his type. "With brown eyes..."
Rossi paused as he read the files, particularly the dates. He looked back at Hotch.
"Is this right? These three women were raped and mutilated within days of each other thirteen years ago?"
"And the murders didn't start until two years later. Which means that it's possible that they were killed by someone else, but since all three were killed the same way, we need to consider the possibility that their rapes were connected with their murders." Hotch paused. "I know we didn't profile James as a killer, but..."
"He isn't." Rossi countered. "Not deliberately."
"Dave. We may not have profiled James as a killer, but we also didn't profile him as being at risk for a psychotic break..."
"No, Aaron." Rossi shook his head, mulling over the files. "All right. I'm not saying it's impossible, but I'm quite sure James wouldn't kill his victims. He views death as a surcease. An escape from pain. Killing his victims, especially after making sure they lived through the torture, would be too merciful. He would only kill a victim if he cared about her in some way."
Hotch paused, considering Rossi's reasoning. It did make sense, though it meant James profiled as a sadist. One that wanted his victims to suffer and to continue to suffer. "Dave..."
"I know, Aaron." Rossi interrupted, not needing the younger man to say any more. He was still coming to terms with what his son did, and would likely do again if James was ever released. He was certain however, that James hadn't targeted any of his victims in order to kill them.
"...Did James mention anything about Dr. Connell?" Hotch asked in an effort to draw the conversation away from uncomfortable truths. Despite wanting to believe Rossi was correct that James hadn't been the one to kill those three women, he couldn't ignore the facts.
"...he despises the Connells." Rossi replied, recalling how James had laughed when told Kenneth Connell had been killed. "Kenneth Connell specifically.
"Did he say why?" Hotch asked after considering Rossi's answer.
Rossi shook his head, and turned away from the photo of Somerfield. "James avoided answering why."
"Dave..." Hotch began.
"Tobias Connell and Somerfield did know each other. James had overheard them arguing years ago over the phone. Mainly about Tobias Connell being greedy." Rossi paused, still angry at Somerfield but placing his focus on what James had said. "Dr. Connell apparently did some free-lancing with their kidnapping scheme and Somerfield wasn't happy about it."
"That could explain why Tobias Connell was murdered fifteen years ago." Hotch surmised. "He got greedy, possibly to the point of risking exposure, and Somerfield either killed him or had him killed."
"There's more. Tobias Connell had a preference for twins, according to what James had overheard of the conversation."
"Twins?" Hotch scrunched up his brow in thought, thinking the same thing Rossi had when the latter first heard that info. "I imagine falsifying the deaths of twin newborns would be more likely to raise suspicion than doing so with a single birth."
"That was my thought as well." Rossi sat down, rubbing his brow. "But James insisted that was what he heard. Though...he insisted Somerfield's complaint was Connell 'using' twins, not 'taking' them.'"
Hotch paused, considering the older man's revelation. "I'll have Garcia check into whether any of the twenty-six children taken were one of a pair of twins."
0
It was an old two-story house. Much of it in disrepair, though the previous owner seemed to have had attempted to restore it. But that was at least twenty years ago. Perhaps longer, going by the amount of overgrowth in the front and back yards.
No one had been around to trim the hedges or the grass in years. Nor were there any recent attempts to repaint the siding or repair the shattered windows. The atmosphere alone could inspire ghost stories. Though that wasn't why she was here.
Nor was she here because she wanted to be. It was more than that. It'd been necessary to come to this moldy abode, despite her hatred of it - the architecture and remoteness of the house were horrid to her. But it was because of the past that she hated it.
The past was a haunting thing, and she had to find out. Even if she had to scour the place or tear through the floorboards. She needed to know. What had happened to the child? Until she knew what had happened, she couldn't bring herself to write the letter she needed to. What closure would her confession bring, if she had no idea what had happened to the child she'd raised for eight years?
Leah Clemens shivered as she climbed up the porch, the stairs creaking beneath her feet. Her pale blonde hair, with a streak of gray on the side, fluttered briefly in a passing breeze. She swallowed and opened the door, surprised that the hinges weren't fully rusted. Though the seller had mentioned this house had been used by local kids as a hang out, so perhaps they kept the door in workable condition.
-Momma. Momma.-
She froze, her breath catching. A memory from twenty-five years ago surfaced in her brain. The house had looked much better back then, having been owned by an old couple with a thirty year old grandson who helped out. They'd been some sort of distant relative, or perhaps friends of a distant relative. She couldn't really remember.
"...Leigh." Leah sighed, her eyes burning from the dust build-up inside the foyer. It'd been years and years since she stepped foot in this town, let alone this house. Since the moment she left the child here twenty-five years ago, she had acted as though this house and even this town didn't exist.
She had honestly felt justified back then. Leaving the child with a family that could raise her and not have to live a lie. While she, with her husband and son, could live like a family elsewhere. No longer holding evidence of a huge mistake.
Leah grimaced. Her hands shaking as her tired eyes roamed over her dusty surroundings. So much time had passed. The middle-aged couple had died, and their son had moved out. And the little girl...
She swallowed, her eyes teary but whether from dust or regret was difficult to discern. All she knew was that the girl had vanished after the couple died.
"Leigh..."