I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe.
Dalai Lama
Chapter three
BAU Headquarters
FBI building
Quantico, VA
T + 7 days
Seven days.
One week.
One solid week of hell
They all knew the statistics. Less than 60% of children taken by strangers come home alive. After three days, the chances of a child returning alive drops to 1%.
Seven days.
In the interim another boy had gone missing, with the same MO. Baltimore, Maryland. Boston, Massachusetts. Newark, New Jersey. Hartford, Connecticut. Washington DC. And now New Haven, Connecticut. Six boys, just gone.
Everyone was concerned about JJ and Will. They weren't eating. They weren't sleeping. All they could do was worry about their son. Every day they came to the office to just sit and watch and wait, wanting to be right there in case there was any news at all.
The BAU team went over all the evidence, and then went over all of it again. They went to the various cities and interviewed witnesses, parents, relatives, school friends. They combed security footage. None of it added up. "Everything points to a trafficking ring." Rossi said. "But there's no sign that they're being trafficked."
"Maybe we just haven't caught them yet." Morgan said.
"I was trying not to go there." Rossi replied.
"Everyone." Hotch came in, carrying evidence bags. "This arrived in the mailroom earlier today. Reid, it was addressed to you but when we saw it we took the liberty of opening it for forensics."
They all gathered around to look. The first bag contained a standard business envelope, something from a big box office store, postmarked from Hammond, LA three days ago and smudged with prints. On the front, in large, childish handwriting was written
Spenser Reed
FBI
BAU
Quantico, VA
JJ looked over his arm and gasped. "That's Henry's handwriting."
"I'm glad you opened it." Spencer said.
"There are too many prints on the envelope to compare." Hotch replied.
The second bag contained a sheet of common copy paper with a picture of a house that looked a lot like JJ and Will's, with two adults out front. A distance away was a smaller figure, and drawn from that was a word bubble saying I wan go home! JJ gasped when she saw it.
"We compared the prints on that one to the exemplar from Henry's SafeKids pack." Hotch said. "They came back to his and an unknown. The other sheet only has prints from the same unknown."
The other sheet was thick and covered in small dots. "Braille." Spencer said. "Garcia, can you scan this and bring the dots up in contrast?" He handed the paper off and called something up on the nearest computer. "Braille is nothing more than a substitution cipher, a pattern of six or fewer dots standing in for each letter." By the time Garcia had the tactile paper turned into a graphic he had the cipher memorized. "Can you transcribe this?" At her nod he started reading.
Hello,
My name is Susanna Holman. I am writing on behalf of Henry Jareau. He tells me you are his godfather and according to him you know everything and can work magic. We are hoping you can find a way to return him to his family.
Garcia turned and started a search for Susanna Holman anywhere in Louisiana.
First off I want to tell his mother that he is healthy and well. He does not like my mother's cooking, but he has been cleaning his plate. He is decently dressed and is sleeping in his own bed in the same room as my brothers. He has not been attending school as my family instructs their children at home but he has been learning his letters along with the others. While he was…
Spencer stopped for a moment, his lips tightening
… distressed by an encounter with my father's strap when he first arrived I have been helping him learn our family rules and as he is a quick boy he has not been chastised since. I will do what I can to keep him from punishment until he returns to you.
Will turned and left the room. A moment later there was the distinct sound of a fist hitting a wall.
Please understand that my parents are good people. But they have fallen under the spell of a truly evil man and under his advisement they believe this is the right thing to do. I understand and accept that there will be repercussions from their actions. I believe that will actually be a blessing for my family.
Communication is going to be a problem. As you can tell from my method of writing I am legally blind and as a result of that and of my family's beliefs I am a virtual shut-in and have never set foot off my family's farm. I don't even know my own address and to ask it now would be to invite suspicion. I cannot ask one of my brothers or sisters to write because they fully support my father in all of his endeavors. I do not have access to a telephone. I do have a small radio which, along with books and journals from the library, is my window on the world. Most of what I listen too appears to be prerecorded but there is one show on late at night that is live. It is hosted by a man named Art Bell. Much of what he has on there is silliness but he seems like a decent sort. If he interviews you on his show and you ask questions I'll do my best to answer and with Henry as my eyes maybe together we can bring him home.
I will place this letter and the picture Henry is drawing in an envelope and give it to him to post when he joins my family on one of their many road trips. I hope he can find a way to slip it into a mailbox without being seen. I will listen for one week and then try writing again. I have 19 stamps left.
With all hope
S. H.
"He's alive." JJ said softly.
"There is nothing." Garcia said. "No Susanna Holman in Louisiana. If they were on a road trip they could be from anywhere. I'm expanding the search to the rest of the country."
"If they're traveling, how come no one spotted Henry?" Morgan asked. "That Amber alert is nationwide."
"They could have changed his appearance." Rossi said. "Cut and dyed his hair. And I doubt he'd try to run, for fear of that strap. That's how the Unsub is controlling them."
"But then why didn't Susanna write for all the other boys?" Blake asked.
"Good question." Hotch said. "Anyone hear of this Art Bell?"
"He does a late-night call-in radio show out of Pahrump, Nevada." Spencer said. "Conspiracy theorists, UFO freaks, ghost hunters, but every so often he has a real scientist on."
"Think he'd work with us?" Rossi asked.
"I don't know."
"Let's find out."
Art Bell turned out to be an older man, with tidy, graying hair and large glasses. "Missing child case? Sure anything I can do to help." He said through the Skype hook-up. "We could do it tonight if you want, say ten to fifteen minutes at the top of the show. I'll have my engineer get with your tech."
"Thank you Mr. Bell." Rossi said. "If there's anything we can do to repay you…"
"Well since you're offering once the kids are safe give me an interview. Your books are pretty popular with my listeners."
"Done," Rossi replied. "We'll talk more in a bit."
They left Garcia to work out the details. "All right," Hotch said. "So what are we going to ask her?"