it just keeps on coming and coming!
A dirty, old homeless man rooted through the garbage, searching for his next meal. Feeling eyes on his back, he turned to see a man and a woman that were definitely NOT from around here. They both were dressed smartly, shiny shoes and everything. "What are you lookin' at?" he growled, instantly on edge.
Morgan raised his arms in the universal sign of peace. "Just want to ask you a few questions, my man."
"About what?" the homeless man demanded, voice rough from a smoking addiction mixed with having to sleep outside year-round.
"Unfamiliar faces walking around here." But before Morgan could elaborate, the man had already turned away, shuffling off to search for more garbage. Morgan sighed, giving Prentiss a disappointed look.
After what felt like hours, Morgan had found a lead he felt was solid. "Is there anything I can do for you? Get you to a shelter, maybe?" The woman, Mona, gave him a disgusted look.
"Have you ever seen one of them shelters?" she snorted "I'll take my chances in the park. At least I got the birds I can feed there." She patted his arm, giving him a motherly look.
"Ok. Ok, I understand. Be careful, you hear me? This world needs all of its beautiful ladies, and that means you too, Mona." She gave him a happy smile and wandered off.
Prentiss gave him a small smile. "You're a good guy." She concluded.
"You think?" he asked as they continued on.
"Yeah, you make the people around you feel good."
"Well, he's no Charlie Chaplin." Hotch said, picking up the tail-end of the conversation.
"Again with the Chaplins." Morgan said with a good-hearted chuckle.
"How'd you guys do?" Prentiss asked, jutting her chin out to Reid and Hotch.
"Well, Reid got propositioned by every prostitute we talked to, but we didn't find anybody who thinks they'd seen the Unsub."
Morgan chuckled, giving Reid a slap on the back. "Same story with us."
"We saw Gideon and McGee a block back. They hadn't had any luck either." Hotch said. This case was looking worse and worse by the hour.
Reid frowned. "It's odd. If the Unsub were out here, he'd stand out. You know, people would recognize the description."
"So where does that leave us?" Prentiss asked the group, defeat coloring her tone.
The Captain strode over, JJ at his side, his face full of obnoxious victory. "Right where I thought we were."
"Captain?" Hotch growled out, reeling in his annoyance.
"You said this guy would definitely be memorable. You were adamant. So if no one out here remembers him, according to you, he doesn't exist." He was twisting their words now, and the team was getting a little tired of him. Okay, a lot tired.
JJ attempted to defuse the situation. "That's not exactly what we said, but—"
"It's what you implied." The Captain interrupted.
"What do you think happened to them, Captain?" Hotch asked.
"I told you, I don't think anything happened to them." He was so blind to the evidence all around him, it was almost laughable.
"Oh, that's right. You think they all got houses and jobs." Hotch snarked—proof that he was losing his temper.
"Ok, all this means is we have another piece of the puzzle here." Prentiss attempted to calm her leader down. "Someone got over 60 street-smart people out of here and no one noticed."
The team looked around, scanning for any kind of clue.
"It's almost like he blended in." Reid murmured.
"It's more than that. It's like he must somehow belong…" JJ added.
"… like he's here all the time." Hotch caught on to the train of thought.
Morgan looked over at a van parked quietly about five yards from where they were standing; a man was helping Mona with her belongings. "… like social services."
"What?" asked Prentiss."
"Captain Wright." Morgan continued, ignoring Emily.
"Yeah?" he said, not really listening.
"Does your social services department patrol around?
"Excuse me?" that got his attention.
"Do they drive around in the middle of the night looking for people to help?" Morgan continued, dread running thick in his veins.
"No. they have to be called, and then—"
Morgan took off like an Olympic sprinter, headed straight for the van. Mona was just about to get inside.
"Morgan!" Hotch called after the hot-headed man, running after him.
"Mona! Mona, wait a minute! Do not get in that van! What are you doing? I thought you didn't need any help." He was panting ever so slighty.
"He's gonna drive me to the park." She gave him a smile.
"Hey, how's it goin', my man?" Morgan turned to the van driver after Mona trundled off.
"I should go." He muttered, shuffling over to the driver side door.
"Slow down. What's your hurry?" Morgan tried to make his voice as slow and relaxed as possible. He didn't want to scare this guy off.
"I got a lot of work. I should go." The man was starting to sweat. He'd made it inside his van, but it wasn't started yet. His left eye twitched.
"Sir, do you have a city employee I.D.?" the Captain asked, finally understanding what was going on.
"Look, I really don't have time for this." The man was starting to panic.
"Yes, you do. I.D., please." The Captain insisted, giving the van driver his best no-nonsense look.
As fast as he could, the man started the van, trying to peel out of his parking spot, but Morgan ducked into the open window and grabbed the wheel, steering the van into a nearby fence.
"Morgan!" Hotch called out, surprised by the agent's sudden behavior. Again.
Yanking the man out of the car, Morgan barked. "Out of the truck! Out of the truck! Get out here!"
"All right, all right! Don't hurt me! Just, don't hurt me." The pitiful man all but wailed.
mmmm... gotta love Morgan!