Author's Note:
I apologize for the delay in an update. I have been stressed out a lottle lately, so I hope to ease that stress a bit and write.
Yes, I said lottle. It means a little, but a lot.
And there went almost my entire chapter! Again! For some reason, FanFiction logged me out while I was writing the chapter, so I went to hit save and it tells me that I must be logged in to use the Doc Manager feature of FanFiction. I WAS LOGGED IN GENIUSES! GRRRRRR!
But that's okay. It wasn't very good, and I realize now that I had jumped too far ahead. I still have to do this chapter first before I can do that one.
Also, I realize this now: I have only gotten one review on this entire story, and that was on the very early chapters, like chapters one or two (Prologue or One). Does that mean no one likes it? If no one likes it I'll stop writing it, and possibly take it down from the site. But you have to tell me if you do like it or not. I need to know how the few readers I do have are enjoying my story or if they aren't.
Oh! I also realize now, as I reread some of my past chapters, my dates are off. It is not the 20th, but the 19th. My bad! I will fix that shortly.
Monday, November 19th, 2012
Potomac Valley Hospital, Keyser, WV
Hotch stood outside the hospital, pacing back and forth. Morgan had stayed with the police cruisers on the chase to catch Stan, while the rest of the team had come back, knowing they'd lost him. Now, Hotch waited with Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi outside for news on Garcia, as Stan had shot her in the leg to prevent her from assisting Reid and Domonick. When Morgan returned - deflated and rather agitated - he joined them.
However, news of a different kind reached them first.
It started with Rossi's phone ringing. "Rossi. Yes. You do? Great. We'll be there shortly." He hung up and looked at the team assembled around him. "We have a lead."
"We do?" JJ and Prentiss asked.
Rossi nodded. "An older man came in saying he has information that could help us find Stan and Domonick, Spencer, and Amy."
"What information?" Morgan asked.
But Rossi shook his head. "He says he won't tell anyone but us, and he wants to do it directly."
"Who is he?" Prentiss asked.
"He says his name is George Jameson Grey."
Morgan nodded. "I'll stay here and wait for Garcia, but call me if we get enough information to go after him. I want to be there."
Hotch nodded. "Alright, let's go."
The older gentleman, George, sat in the chair Rob Carter had occupied not but a few hours before. Rob himself was waiting out in the hall as Hotch and JJ talked with the man. The man had greying blonde hair and a wrinkled smile, but his skin was still tight over his rather large muscles for a man his age (which had to be in his seventies). What also surprised the two was his height: he was at least 6'8". However his grey eyes sparkled slightly in the flourescent lighting that also glinted off his silver-rimmed glasses.
"I knew you had to know this immediately," he said in a Southern accent, sounding rather winded. "I came as quickly as I could, but the woods is an awfully long run for a man my age."
"Woods?" JJ asked, glancing at Hotch.
George nodded vigorously. "Indeed! The woods! I recognized the young girl from the news, and also recognized the man - Stan Fields, I believe his name was - very quickly and knew I had to tell you what I saw."
"Well tell us quickly now. Every second counts," Hotch said.
George nodded. "Indeed it does. Well, I was hiking along my normal path - it's a very calm hike and a man like me needs his fresh air - when I heard a car motor. Now that's a strange sound when you're alone in the woods with no roads for miles and only birds for company. Anyways, I followed the sound and as soon as I reached the clearing I would normally stop to rest in, the motor stopped. I saw the black car, and thought, 'Now George, who would drive a fancy black car way out into the woods like that?' And it turns out that man Stan Fields gets out of the car and drags the poor girl out of it. Poor girl- here she is screaming and yelling at him to let her go, and he doesn't listen. That man... Oh, when I say he did her good I mean he did her real good! Oh, I will never get the sight from my mind. All that blood and all her screams..." George clutched his head as if he had a headache.
"What do you mean, 'did her good'? What did Stan do to her?" JJ asked.
George shivered. "Oh, he beat her! He beat her within an inch of her life! Choked her twice too! Nearly killed her. Then... My goodness, then he raped her! It was horrible to watch, but I knew I needed to tell you everything I saw because as soon as he was done raping her he dragged her back into the car and drove off. I came running here as swift as I could so I could tell you what I saw."
Hotch and JJ looked at each other. "Did you get a good look at the licence plate?" JJ asked hopefully.
But George shook his head, rubbing his temples. "No, my memory's not what it used to be. I couldn't tell you what that tiny sheet of metal said for the life of me! And it very well could mean life or death with that killer on the loose! Oh please tell me you'll find him and lock him up before I have to lock up my granddaughter! She doesn't need to live in fear like that. Her daddy causes enough problems in the family."
Hotch sighed. "We're doing everything we can. This helps a lot. Thank you, Mr. Grey."
George smiled. "Please, it's George. And you're welcome. I take it I'll be leaving now?"
Hotch nodded. "Thank you once again, George. You did the right thing, coming here."
George winked as he stood and walked to the door. "I know, sir. I know I did."
Rob knew something was wrong with the picture in front of him when that man walked out of the interrogation room, looking all timid and aged. As soon as the door closed the man straightened up and laughed outright.
"Oh boy did they fall for that heap of lies!" he said, the familiar voice of one infamous man of Rob's childhood escaping the 72-year-old's mouth. No more was the faux Southern accent; instead it was replaced by a New England one.
"Jackson," Rob growled, looking up from the chair he sat in.
The man's grey eyes instantly bore into Rob's grey-green ones as he removed the faux silver-rimmed glasses and dropped them to the ground, crushing them under his hiking boot. "Well, if it isn't the big brat Robert Carter. You know, I had quite the pleasure destroying your brother, the little brat."
Rob was on his feet in an instant. "You didn't-"
Jackson smiled. "Didn't what? Kill him? Of course not, Robert! I just taught him a lesson. But that Amy Nickhoales nearly died in the process."
Rob's eyes widened as he began to shake with anger. "How dare you lay a hand on her!"
Instantly Rob launched himself at Jackson, prepared to fight to the deaths if he had to. However Jackson was still much stronger, as usual, and had Rob pinned against the wall real quick.
"Ah, are you feeling things for her too? Hmm, little brat?" Jackson taunted as Rossi and Hotch exited the rooms.
"George? Rob? What's going on here?!" Hotch asked as Rob punched Jackson in the gut and pushed him away from him, only to find himself restrained by Hotch and Prentiss, who quickly exited the other room as JJ did.
"That man's a liar! He's a murderer!" Rob shouted in anger, glaring at Jackson with a look that should have set the building ablaze.
But Jackson laughed, the laugh of Rob's darkest memories of the abuse he and Stan had suffered. "Now what makes you say that, Robert? Hmm? You know who's the murderer, and it isn't me. It's your pitiful excuse of a brother, Stanley Carter."
"I'm not talking about those murders! Stan would never kill Lucile no matter what he promised our father! He would never!" Rob shouted, struggling against Hotch and Prentiss' hold. For once he was grateful for being restrained; it meant he wouldn't kill Jackson.
"And so you think I did?!" Jackson shouted, faking shock.
"YOU HAD TO HAVE! You worshipped my father! You were like a dog at his feet, bowing to his every command and order. You agreed to anything he said. When Stan refused to kill his own family YOU DID!" Rob shouted, his anger boiling over.
Jackson laughed again. "But Rob, Stan had to honor thy father! He would never go against God's will!"
"IT WASN'T GOD'S WILL FOR HIM TO COMMIT MURDER LIKE THAT! STAN WOULD NEVER KILL HIS BELOVED WIFE AND FRIENDS AND FAMILY! HE KNOWS THOU SHALT NOT KILL!"
Jackson's face instantly was a cold stone. "Rob, I am disappointed in you. You have turned out exactly as your father said you would. Exactly as he said your brother would, too. A worthless... Well, you get the idea. And you know what?" Jackson stepped closer to Rob's face.
"Who was with you?" Rob growled.
"I was alone; ask the agents behind you."
"WHO WAS WITH YOU?! YOU ARE NEVER ALONE!"
Jackson smiled. "You're right; I never am. It's always best to be in numbers, regardless of where you are and what you are doing. I'm sure your brother learned that the hard way a long time ago."
"Who was with you?!" Rob growled again.
"You know very well who was with me; they are always with me."
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?! YOU BASTARD!"
Jackson laughed. "I don't think it's what I did to your asshole weakling of a brother that you should be worrying about! I think it's what I did to your asshole weakling of a brother's pet that should concern you." He leaned in closer to Rob's face. "And I was so ready to squeeze the life out of her little body had it not been for her asking for it. But she paid the price of that mistake. I don't think she'll be walking any time soon. Not without much difficulty."
Rob instantly felt his entire body fall limp in the agents' arms. "She can't walk at all. She's paralyzed."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because... Stan's watched so much of her it's hard not to notice her wheelchair."
Jackson frowned. "Well. It's a good thing that's not the only place we damaged, now is it?"
Rob's head instantly snapped up to face him. "What?"
Jackson smiled. "What am I saying? You will find out soon enough. I'm sure Stan will come crawling- literally, that's what he's been reduced to. I don't think I've seen him that broken and weak in a very long time."
Rob's face hardened in an icy stone glare. "You will pay for this."
Jackson smiled smugly. "Oh really?"
Instantly the sound of handcuffs snapping caught Jackson's attention. He turned to look at JJ, who stood behind him, her face impassive as she snapped one of the handcuff loops on his left wrist.
His eyes widened in shock. "You would really arrest a fragile old man like me?" he said, with a fragile Southern accent.
JJ bit her lip in an obvious attempt to suppress laughter. "Like I'm going to believe that charade after the show you just put on...Jackson?"
Jackson sighed, and allowed JJ to handcuff him and lead him back into the interrogation room.
Hotch and Prentiss released their hold on Rob, who instinctively jumped forward, searching for a young, injured Stan to protect. However, he closed his eyes and shook his head, collapsing to his knees on the floor, his head in his hands.
"Why?" he whispered mournfully.
Hotch and Prentiss exchanged sad glances as Rob fell to pieces at their feet, knowing they could have a lot more on their hands than they originally thought.
And just as they came to that sad realization, their PDAs dinged! with an email from a very familiar individual.