Just after 8 a.m. Emily is sipping a cup of coffee as she finishes her bacon and eggs. She smiles at their hostess.
"I feel guilty for getting breakfast since you made us dinner."
Mrs. Benson pats Emily on the shoulder as she tops off the agents orange juice. "It was my pleasure," the septuagenarian says. "Besides, in my day women couldn't have amazing jobs such as yours. It's been thrilling talking with you about what you do."
Emily smiles. "Something tells me law enforcement lost a powerful tool when they wouldn't let you play."
"Oh, such the charmer," Mrs. Benson says, blushing.
"You don't know the half of it, Mrs. Benson," JJ says as she walks in. She looks at Emily. "Hotch wants us to detour to Salem. Cops down there may know our unsub and we're closer."
Emily raises an eyebrow. "And we're in yesterday's clothes. Come on, Hotch," she grumbles.
Mrs. Benson shrugs. "Will only take one of you to go get your car. How about I take Jennifer to the local mall so she can pick you up a few things and you go get your car?" she offers.
JJ wraps her arm around the older woman. "I love this woman! I get to go shopping and stay out of the woods!"
Emily laughs as the other two women chuckle. She nods. "Okay, that sounds like a solid plan." She glances at her watch. "A trooper will be here soon to pick me up and meet up with the wrecker. Why don't you all head on and maybe we can get back here about the same time."
"Well, Emily, that would be a good idea if the stores were open. They don't roll up the gates until 9."
"Ah, right. Good point. Well then you all go when you can. If I beat you back here I can wait outside."
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Benson digs into a drawer and pulls out a key. "Come on back in and have another cup of coffee. If I can't trust an FBI agent with a key who can I trust?"
Emily smiles. "Thank you, ma'am."
By 10 Emily and JJ have gotten back their muddy but functioning SUV, changed into jeans, blouses and light blazers and are making their way to Salem to find out more about their potential unsub.
Back in Portland the men had gotten to work at 8 with the information they had received from Garcia. By the time the finish looking through it all at 9:30 they are sure they know their unsub. Now it was a matter of getting Vetch to admit it.
"Morgan, Reid, go to the jail and get them to pull the security video from the night in question. We need to know everything Cameron Pace did from the time he walked into the jail until the time he left. How did he get Vetch alone? How long did they talk? What did Pace see that made him know Vetch was the perfect mark to get him out and what did Vetch see that let him know Pace wouldn't turn on him and would appreciate turning his kills into attacks on the justice system?"
Reid and Morgan hurry out to get the information they need. Hotch turns to Rossi.
"Garcia sent us a list of the crimes Pace was accused of. If he really did commit them he was serial and we should have been called in long ago. Emily and JJ are probably going to run into a brick wall of resistance."
"Especially since their suspect was lost by the Portland police," Rossi adds.
"Exactly. Let's profile this guy. Maybe the profile will tell us where he's living and what he's planning to do next."
Just as they get going, Ortiz walks in. "We found her body. Bastard dumped her outside her own fucking apartment complex. Super found it when he went to dump his own trash."
"Shit," Hotch mutters as he stands. "Rossi, keep up with this crap. I'll go with Ortiz to the scene."
"Uh, with all due respect, Hotch, the press has arrived," Ortiz says.
Rossi stands, grinning. "Are you ready for your close-up, Mr. DeMille?" he cracks.
Hotch rolls his eyes as he sits and starts to work on his statement for the press. Rossi heads out with Ortiz to take a look at the latest dump site.
Morgan and Reid wait impatiently while the guard on duty in the security office burns them the video they need. As he finishes, Morgan takes the disc.
"Anyplace we can get a look at this?" he inquires.
"This look like a movie theatre to you?" the guard snarks back.
Morgan sighs. "Look, man, we're not here trying to cause problems. We're here to stop a murderer."
"Yeah, tell that to Vetch."
Reid frowns and steps up to defend Morgan. "Vetch did this to himself. He knows the killer and he helped the killer. He's making all of you look bad. Your anger should be with him not us."
"Whatever. You got what you need. Get out so you can find the real killer and let Vetch go. And when he gets out I hope to hell he sues the fuck out of you guys."
Morgan smiles. "Well…pleasure doing business with you."
He and Reid head out to the car. Once inside Reid pulls out Morgan's laptop and inserts the disc. Though they would have preferred to watch it on a large screen they settle for this in case they need to detour to the hospital where Vetch is being treated for a "minor cardiac incident." After a few minutes, Morgan shakes his head.
"Not only was Vetch working, he's the one that processed Pace."
"Yes. And it looks like they kept up a steady stream of conversation the entire time, too."
"We need to send this to Garcia. She can get with linguistics and see if they can read the lips of these guys."
Reid nods and activates the aircard. He emails the entire contents of the disc to Garcia explaining what they need. Morgan can't help but smile.
"Getting awful cushy with the electronics, Pretty Boy."
Reid rolls his eyes. "Don't even joke about that. I can email. That's it. And only because Hotch says I have to in case detectives are trying to reach me that way."
"Right. Before you know it we'll see a Star Wars-like set-up in your apartment."
"Never!" Reid pauses. "Computers are more a Star Trek thing as opposed to Star Wars."
Morgan laughs. "Yeah, well I'm not a nerd like Princess so you'll have to forgive me." He starts the SUV. "Let's go see Vetch with what we have and what we're doing with it. Maybe now he'll be willing to talk."
"Maybe. But I wouldn't recommend containing a colourless, odourless highly reactive gaseous element in your infundibula for an extended period."
Morgan thinks a second then shakes his head. "I have NO idea what you just said."
Reid grins smugly. "Emily would get it."
"Nerd boy," Morgan grumbles good-naturedly, knowing he would indeed ask Emily what the heck the genius had said.
A little while later, Morgan and Reid walk into Vetch's hospital room. Vetch glares at them.
"I ain't got nothing to say to you!" He looks at the other man in the room. "Tell them to go fuck themselves."
The man stands, slightly embarrassed by his client's outburst. "I'm Griffin Croft, Mr. Vetch's attorney. At this time he does not wish to speak with you."
As he had talked, Reid had set up the laptop on the tray table. Morgan nods.
"That's fine. He can listen. We went to the jail today and pulled the tapes of the night Cameron Pace was arrested. See, we noticed his information was mysteriously scrubbed from the lists sent into the paper for the crime column. So we did a little more digging and decided to find out why." He turns. "Reid."
"You were not only working the night Pace came in, you had extensive talks with him throughout the night. This video is right now at Quantico being put through a program that will read the lips of both you and Mr. Pace. My guess is we'll have full transcripts of the conversations by tomorrow. So you can get out ahead of this and speak with us today. Or tomorrow we'll simply charge you based on those conversations as an accessory to murder."
Both Vetch and his lawyer look stunned and slightly worried. Croft stands.
"Agents, if you could step out a moment, I'd like to speak to my client alone."
Morgan and Reid nod, leaving the computer up and running as an intimidation tactic. Out in the hallway, Reid looks at Morgan.
"Five minutes?"
"Maybe 10. Croft will want to make sure Vetch knows just how much his retainer just went up."
Reid laughs and nods, figuring Morgan is probably right.
Rossi sighs and nods. "Definitely the kill and dump site this time. Strange. This place had no meaning to the unsub other than as a place to live."
"Did the other places?"
"Stiles was killed where she worked. Peroles' body was found on his mother's lawn; the mother that kept making excuses for him. Tildes was found in a child's clubhouse and from everything we've seen he was a troubled child from the earliest. But this place has nothing to do with the past. It was hurried. I have a feeling we'll find she was killed right before she went out to work."
Ortiz nods. "I see what you mean. He may have done it this way to try to help out Vetch."
Rossi chuckles. "Starting to sound like a profiler, Ortiz."
Ortiz laughs. "Not sure if that's a compliment or a threat."
"Call it a compliment," Rossi says with a wink.
Ortiz nods. The two carefully canvas the scene to make sure nothing is dismissed as unimportant. Finally they come together at the start of the alley.
"I think we've seen everything here. Let's get back to the precinct to see what the M.E. said about her hands," Rossi says. "Any word on her son?"
Ortiz shakes his head. "From what I've seen she had no family in the area. He'll probably end up in the foster system."
"Damn. Well, let's at least get him justice that will mean something to him when he gets old enough to understand."
Ortiz nods and the two go back to the police precinct.
JJ quickly steps in front of her wife when the detective they are speaking to starts to get aggressive.
"Look, Detective, we all want the same thing: Pace behind bars. All we're asking for is a chance to review your files to see if his current m.o. matches up to his old crimes."
"And what the hell do we get in return?"
"You mean other than a raping, murdering bastard off the street?"
The detective nods. "Yeah! We can do that ourselves."
"Oh, really? It took Portland arresting him and us coming in to figure out what he's doing to even come close to stopping him. Tell me again how you couldn't use a little help to stop this guy permanently?"
The two stare each other down. Finally the detective turns and starts to walk away. The two agents follow him into a room with multiple murder boards and file boxes.
"Everything we got is in here. Don't take anything out," he warns.
"We know how to do our jobs, Detective," JJ says, her eyebrow raised in anger. "Now, give us some time to go through all this. If we need your help we'll call."
"Fine." He storms out.
Emily closes the door behind him. "Does he really think we're here to steal his case? Fucking asshole."
"Easy, Emily. This happens a lot and you know it. Let's just see what we can find that could help us figure out where Pace may have gone to ground."
They haven't been working long when the door opens and the detective and another man step in.
"I'm Captain Meadows. What the hell are you doing with one of my cases? We didn't invite the FBI in?"
"You're right, you didn't. Otherwise these cases may have been solved long ago," Emily accuses.
"You stupid bi- -"
JJ again steps between her wife and a man that looks as is he might deck her. "Easy, Captain! We asked your detective for assistance. Pace has murdered 4 more people in Portland in the last few weeks. He's trying to hide behind the veil of a vigilante to curry public support. If that happens, you won't convict him on any of these charges. Why would the public want to take a 'good' man off the streets? Let us stop him before public opinion outweighs the law."
Meadows stares at the woman. "Fine. But you try to leave with anything in this room and I'll lock your ass up."
"Stop being a jerk, Captain. You know we know what we are doing. After all, we sent you a profile 7 years ago that helped you track down a kidnapper."
The man blushes, having forgotten something that JJ hadn't. "Yes…well…get what you need." He walks out, gesturing for his detective to follow him.
As the door closes once more, Emily looks at her wife. "Once again I am reminded you are an amazing woman Jennifer Jareau Prentiss."
"And best you never forget it, Emily Elizabeth Prentiss."
"Not even with the worst concussion in the world, beautiful."
JJ blushes and the two women go back to sorting through the information, hoping to find what they need to bring the murders to an end.