My Life Had Stood
Chapter 30: The One The Other Will Contain
"I don't care." Shelly repeated, approaching the petite brunette. "Not about you. Or Spencer. Or why Allie's grandmother took you in. That is all just...just not..."
Shelly glowered, stopping briefly at Alsie wincing as though in immense pain.
"Don't give me that. I know you can fake a headache." Shelly spat, though a glimmer of concern was present in her glare. She hesitated, but only for a second. "It's not protecting you."
Alsie shuddered, not giving any indication that she heard Shelly. The latter renewed her movement toward the smaller woman.
"You never said anything about what James did. About what he was. I thought he was some guy who left you, but that...that article about him..." Shelly seethed, her words spewing forth like a torrent. As though all her hatred and anger were released at once. "He should've been strung up and gutted, not allowed to live in a prison cell. Not after what he did to my sister fifteen years ago."
Alsie, struggling to ward off the sense of dizziness she felt as well as the sense that she would black out, gasped. Her eyes widened behind her sunglasses. "...what?"
"Cheryl. She was raped and left for dead, her eyes mutilated. Just like that article said that bastard fiance of yours did to his victims." Shelly growled, only around two feet from Alsie. She quickly grabbed the other woman's arm, the syringe still tightly clenched in her hand.
"I...Shel..."
"You know, I'm glad that...that devil spawn you two were going to have is gone." Shelly sneered, knocking off Alsie's sunglasses and forcing the terrified brown eyes to look into hers. "It would've been rotten like its father."
Alsie's burnt umber eyes, until then filled with fear, turned icy. Her lips pressed firmly together in a glower that made Shelly's appear tame. She didn't give the blonde a chance to realize what had happened before she lunged, twisted the hand holding the syringe.
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The neighborhood was quiet and unassuming, as was the house hidden behind a perimeter of dense bushes. A large acorn tree overlooked the yard.
Hotch approached the gate, and as he did so he noticed a woman standing on the porch. She walked towards the gate, which was secured with a chain and padlock.
"Mrs. Cutler?" Hotch asked the woman who nodded curtly, but made no effort to unlock the gate. Instead she stood with her arms crossed, her expression uninviting.
"Like I told the other cops, I have nothing to say. Whatever that bastard did to get himself killed has nothing to do with me or my family." Susan Cutler said before Hotch could even introduce himself, let alone ask to speak inside.
"Mrs. Cutler..." Hotch started to respond, confused since the woman had agreed to be interviewed when he'd called her earlier to say he was on his way.
The woman however simply turned around and entered the house, leaving the gate locked. Her body language shouting that she meant what she'd said. Hotch was about to call after her when someone else started over from across the street.
"Don't mind her." The stranger said, his tone calm. He held out his hand. "Eric Cutler. And you're the agent here to talk about my brother, right?"
"Yes, I'm agent Hotchner, I..." Hotch turned to the man, his greeting faltering when he saw the man. Before him was the spitting image of the victim. He blinked, his eyebrows rising. "You are Victor are twins?"
"Yeah." Eric replied, while Hotch studied the other man carefully. He was more confused, since while the information they had on Victor mentioned a brother, it didn't list them as twins. Nor was the brother's name Eric, but rather Vincent.
"Your name's Eric? What about Vincent?" Hotch asked, curious and suspicious. The man's physical similarity to their victim the only thing that stopped him from dismissing the stranger as a liar.
"Oh yeah. Sorry. Victor and I were adopted by different families as toddlers. We only found out about each other as adults, about seven years ago." Eric explained, and invited the agent to talk at his house across the street.
"You live across the street from your brother, despite only knowing him seven years?"
"Yeah, well we missed out on being brothers most of our lives so it seemed like a good idea." Eric said, a tone of glee in his voice. Something Hotch viewed as strange considering the circumstances. "Until Susan found out."
He said the last bit only after he and Hotch were in his yard.
Hotch considered the man's response. What Eric said and the tone of voice used gave him an inkling of what the other man meant.
"It isn't that bad. I just covered for him when he was at a bar or at some hotel." Eric smirked, not at all trying to hide what he meant by covering for his brother.
Hotch immediately disliked the other man, making a mental note to call Garcia to look into Eric Cutler.
"What about Vincent?" Hotch asked, steering the conversation away from Eric essentially bragging about tricking his brother's wife.
"Don't know. He was starting college when Victor was adopted by the Cutlers. And apparently left home long before Victor could remember much about him." Eric replied flippantly, not at all concerned. It seemed neither the death of his twin nor the disappearance of his twin's adoptive brother, fazed him.
"Mr. Cutler..." Hotch began, only to be distracted by the sound of a gate opening and hurried footsteps. He had barely turned around when Susan Cutler, having changed her mind at talking with the agent upon noticing him with Eric, entered the yard.
"Don't talk to that bastard. He's as bad as his brother." Susan spat, her eyes narrowed considerably and her nostrils flared from anger.
"Mrs. Cutler." Hotch eyed the woman, before glancing back at Eric who was staring at Susan. Even the vehemence in Mrs. Cutler's expression couldn't erase the enjoyment the victim's twin was getting out of the situation.
"See? I told you not to mind her stalking off." Eric grinned, the next moment shrugging as the woman threw him a scathing glance.
Hotch quietly wondered at the two Cutlers, at the animosity Susan showed and the flippant enjoyment Eric felt. Neither seemed concerned about Victor, nor the investigation into the murder.
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Spencer bit his lip as he went over the M.E report. His concentration kept getting distracted by thoughts of Alsie, an uneasiness gnawing at him. He fidgeted, taking out his cell phone for the third time that morning.
He started to dial Alsie's number, yet stopped midway. Though he was worried about her, he didn't want the ring of his call to exacerbate her migraine. He chewed on his lip and put his phone away.
'Rossi's with her.' He reminded himself, and focused once more on the file in his hands. It wasn't until his next couple of tries to focus failed that he once more took out his cell phone. His gut and mind were both yelling at him to check on Alsie. That something awful was going to happen.
It was the same feeling he had years ago when he'd tried convincing Maeve to let his team look into her stalker. Back then he had dismissed his gut feeling and had kept silent about things, like Maeve insisted. That had been the worst decision he ever made.
He took in a breath, and started to dial Rossi to ask about Alsie, when his phone rang. The number showing on the display Shelly's.
"Hello? Shelly? What's...?" His breath caught when Alsie replied, her tone shaky and slightly incoherent. "Alsie, Alsie, calm down. What happened?"
-"Shelly, she...I don't know. She came...at me, and...I don't..." Alsie attempted to answer, her voice highly stressed. She trembled and seemed about to hyperventilate.-
"Alsie, what about Rossi? Isn't he there...?" Spencer asked, despite realizing that if Alsie was calling him then it was unlikely that Rossi was close by.
-"I went to lie down. He left. I...Shel..." Alsie mumbled, curled into a ball by the far end of the room. Her eyes wide and focused on her friend lying motionless on the floor. "There's...blood. I can't...I don't know...I..."-
Spencer paled, listening to Alsie's broken response. His gut roiled from anxiety and dread, especially after the woman mentioned having blacked out. His brain immediately processed different scenarios, the most prominent being that Alsie had switched to an alter of hers.
"Alsie, don't worry, I'll be there soon." He replied, attempting to alleiviate the panic he caught in her voice. "Just breathe slowly, and try to calm down."
-"..." Alsie did as instructed, slowing her breathing. Though she felt anything but calm, even as she turned away from Shelly. The scene before her, of Shelly lying motionless with blood on her face and abdomen, was already burned into Alsie's memory. She trembled, muttering something that Spencer barely caught.-
"...Alsie, you...?" Spencer started to ask in response to what the distraught woman had said. Instead he swallowed back the question and with it the nagging feeling that gnawed at his gut. "I'll be right over."
He said the last bit as he moved towards the door, his thoughts focused completely on Alsie. He ended the call and started to dial another just as he opened the door.
"Whoa, kid, what's the rush?" Rossi said as Spencer nearly ran into him exiting the room. After talking to Hotch and then Garcia the senior agent had decided to join Spencer going over the medical reports on the victim.
"...Why are you here? You said you'd stay with Alsie." Spencer said, foregoing greeting the elder man in his worry.
Rossi crocked an eyebrow. "I brought her home safely. She's sleeping off her headache..."
"No, she's not." Spencer interrupted, quickly explaining the phone call he'd just received.
Rossi's eyes widened, his lips parting as he listened. "I...I left her at her apartment not much longer than an hour ago. She was fine, and no one else was there..."
"Something happened after you left. I'm not sure what, but Alsie..." Spencer replied, recalling everything the brunette had mumbled while talking to him. It didn't take long for the two agents to head out to check on Alsie, with Rossi telling Spencer to inform Hotch while he drove them.
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A/N: I had just started writing this chapter when I found out about Thomas Gibson's being fired. （；゜０゜）
I'm not necessarily a Hotch fangirl, but it sucks! Especially since I've gotten writer's block from it. (*｀へ´*)
I just hope the character isn't killed off but rather decides to retire since it'd just be heart-wrenching for Hotch's son Jack otherwise. (T ^ T)