Once Zoe was safe in the well-guarded FBI offices, the team made their way towards The Red Wing Killer's country property. Spencer couldn't get Zoe out of his mind, how she had under-reacted when he said they'd found the man. She probably didn't believe him, it probably sounded too good to be true.
Decked out in their usual vests and gear, the team made their way towards the small house in a clearing in the woods. The windows were dark, and Morgan kicked in the front door. They shined their bright flashlights all around the empty room. There was hardly a thing inside. Dust streamed in the beams of light, and there were pieces of broken furniture scattered along the walls. Hotch pounded his boot against the floor, which made a hollow thumping noise.
"Check for a basement door." he said, and they began scanning the floor closer. Reid pointed his beam of light along where the wall met the ceiling, and in the corner he caught a reflection.
"Hang on, look, camera." he said, stepping towards it. It was nearly identical to the one he'd found in Zoe's shower. There was a sound of splintering, old wood from behind him as Morgan loosened the basement latch. "He's watching us." he whispered. His mind turned around this information, and each new thought shot off a dozen different theories.
"This was a distraction." he said as he realized. "He was waiting for us all to get here so he could get to Zoe."
"Well, he can't get to her in the BAU." Hotch said.
"I'm glad she said something." Reid said quietly.
"It's clear down here, too. Just a cellar that's empty. This guy's playing us, leading everyone down false trails."
"He's spinning out of control quickly though, he's going to slip up soon." Rossi said, glancing out the window and into the forest. "It's a matter of time."
Back at the office, Zoe sat at Spencer's desk. She was tired, and wondered if it would be too unprofessional to lay her head down on the desk and fall asleep. It's not like she worked here, after all. She reached for one of the photos on Spencer's desk. He was bent down next to a little boy with long blonde hair, who was wearing a cardigan and tie. She grinned at the picture, the little boy was terribly cute, and looked a lot like JJ.
She realized she didn't have any family, now that her mother was gone. She had myriads of cousins and uncles and aunts back in Brazil, but she'd only met them a couple times. The one person left was her father, and he was presumably trying to torture and kill her. She looked at Spencer's smile in the photo, and had to smile back. It was terribly infectious, and she wished she'd seen more of it. What was going to happen when they actually did arrest this man?Would that be it? Would the people who'd saved her life be gone from it forever?
She spun around in the chair just in time to see the team walk in through the doors. She stood quickly, nervously fiddling with her fingers.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Nobody was there. We checked his house in the suburbs too, but totally empty. Neighbors haven't seen him in weeks." Hotch said to her. "And I'm starting to doubt your house is safe, so we booked you a room in a hotel underneath a different name. We'll keep the security detail too," he nodded at Spencer.
"Can we stop by my house so I can get some stuff first, though?" she asked quietly. Spencer nodded, and the pair made their way towards the exit. Morgan began to follow them, but Hotch stopped him. "Reid can handle it, you should take the night off, I can tell you're tired. I'll check in on them a couple times tonight and assign another agent to the front entrance of the hotel."
"I'm sorry he wasn't there, Zoe." Spencer said, as he guided the car out of the parking lot and onto the street.
"It's not your fault." she said. "Look, I don't want to think about it, right now, really. So let's talk about something else." she smiled at him. "Tell me about yourself, what's it like working at the FBI?"
"Hm," he said, thinking as he waited at a red light. "I've been shot once, kidnapped and tortured another time. I spend my days looking at brutal crimes, various dead bodies, and hunting down murderous psychopaths. So it's a little refreshing to be interacting with someone who isn't dead or crazy, for once."
"I am still half crazy-murderer psychopath, though." she said.
"Baby steps," he joked "baby steps. In all honesty though, I can't imagine doing anything else. Most people with my skill set end up programming computers for the rest of their lives, or working in a university maybe. Or we just become criminals."
"'We?'" she asked.
"Right, nobody told you huh?" he eased the car onto the on ramp. "It's more of a running joke with the team sometimes. I'm technically a genius. I graduated high school at 12 and have an...abnormally high IQ." he said. His tone wasn't bragging, like she thought maybe most people's would have been, but instead matter-of-fact.
"Wow, I am...very intimidated right now." she admitted after a moment, with a chuckle.
"No, don't worry, where I excel in some areas, I tend to lack in others, so it evens me out to be pretty average."
"That's not the word I would have used." she said. "Where did you grow up?"
"Vegas."
"Wow, how exotic."
"That's not the word I would have used." he parroted. "Maybe seedy, glitzed up trashy. But exotic?"
"Huh, I've never been." she said. "It always looks so glamorous on TV."
"Yeah, that's what they want you to think."
They neared her neighborhood, and the traffic began to slow. Spencer leaned back in the chair, keeping one hand on the wheel. He glanced over at Zoe. She sat Indian style in the seat, and peered out the car window. She was wearing a tank top, so her arms and shoulders, collar bones and neck were all exposed - soft, olive-toned skin. He set his eyes back on the road, and suddenly leaned forward, peering out, squinting. A fire truck ripped past.
"Looks like something is on fire in the distance." he commented. As soon as he said this, Zoe's heart caught in her throat. She leaned forward, pushing her glasses up higher.
"Oh god," she whispered "That's my neighborhood," she said, her voice thick with dread. They were completely stopped in traffic now, but she had never felt so suddenly anxious about the usual gridlock.
"That's what I thought," he replied. He switched something on, the SUV's siren and flashing lights came on. "Hang on."
He peeled out onto the side of the road, and drove perilously close to the center cement median. They passed the rows of cars as passengers and drivers alike looked on with curiosity. They reached the end of the row of cars, and Spencer raced across intersection and toward the housing development. The smoke plume was closer, thick, black smoke rising from the center of the neighborhood.
"Please, just let it be a coincidence." she begged as he navigated past stop signs and curious pedestrians.
When they turned onto her street, it was apparent it was not, in fact, a coincidence.
He stopped the car across the street from her burning home. She turned to her, expecting her to be sitting and watching the flames, but instead she'd jumped out of the car and started running towards her house. He swore as he unbuckled his seat belt, and raced after her, reaching her right before she got to her front lawn. She was screaming, struggling to get away from him.
"I have to get in! Everything's in there!" she shouted. He had to physically lift her off the ground, and she was still kicking like she was trying to run inside. Finally, she went limp, and her knees hit the ground. Two firemen had jogged over to see what was wrong, but Spencer waved them away.
"What else does he want from me?" she cried. "What else do you want?" she screamed.
"Zoe," Spencer began, trying to find some words to comfort her.
"That was all I had left of my mother, you don't understand. That was ours." she cried harder.
Spencer knelt down next to her. "I'm so sorry." he whispered.
But she just cried.
A/N: Review for more, if you'd like to! Thanks for reading!