Reckless

Chapter Three

Harry glanced up at the aggravated noise that slipped from Derek's lips. He threw the file on the floor and slid his hands over his head before shooting up into a standing position. Emily glanced up in surprise.

"I'm going to go see how the geniuses are doing," he told them. Harry understood Derek's frustration. They had been working on this for two days. The killer was getting cocky. Hotchner wouldn't allow the newest agents in the interrogation room with the suspects. Harry suppressed a wave of anger. He was getting tired to tiptoeing around the older man. Women were dying every six hours. The public was losing faith in the FBI's ability to help them.

"Mr. Potter?" Emily called suddenly. Harry glanced up at the beauty. "Is there something wrong?"

"Just getting frustrated, Miss. Prentiss," Emily flushed slightly at the use of her last name. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at her embarrassment.

"I've asked you to call me Emily," she scolded. Harry smirked slightly.

"And I've asked you to call me Harry," he returned. Harry turned his head as the door was flung open again. Spencer and Hermione came through the door with Derek tailing right behind them. The frustrated expression he had worn was gone. Agent Hotchner and David Rossi walked in behind them.

"We think we might know where he's keeping her," Hermione stated as she removed some of the pictures from the board. Spencer leaned back against the counter in the room they had put them all in. He filled his Styrofoam cup with coffee.

"The first few times we passed over it," he told them. "It blends nearly seamlessly into the house, but it's still there. Hermione," the touch of complete affection in the man's voice made Harry uncomfortable, "spotted it around the third swipe of the pictures." During the time he had been speaking, Hermione had tacked up the left side of the house and the right side of the house that the satellite had captured. The right side of the house had a picture beside it of the closer image. She took a capped pen and pointed to a point on the picture.

"You see that small gap right there?" She asked, circling without ink. Derek, Emily, and Harry leaned forward. "At first I thought it was just a crack in the brick, but then I looked a little closer. That gap follows the same shape of a storm shelter door-small, but not small enough for a grown man to get through." The man that owned the house had been a suspect of theirs, but not of the original police staff.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Derek asked, sweeping the keys to the SUV up from the counter.

"Be cautious!" Hermione warned suddenly as they walked out. The team turned to her as they walked. "He's an electrician. He knows wires and how to make things go wrong. He could have wired that door as a precaution. We'll probably need one agent stationed at the front door in case he tries to make an escape and another at the back." Derek blinked, but nodded. Hotchner couldn't help but stare at the woman and recall a report on her sheet: Granger thinks three to five steps ahead of most criminals.

"Isn't that overestimating him a little?" Emily asked as they walked toward the car. Hermione and Harry looked over at her.

"It's better to overestimate your opponent rather than understatement them," they said at the same time. Once Derek, Emily, Hermione, and Harry were in the car, Emily turned her attention to the two newest agents.

"I'm guessing you guys had the same teacher?" Emily fished. Harry shook his head.

"No," Hermione muttered, "we learned that." Almost absentmindedly, she traced the barely concealed scar across her neck. Emily couldn't contain her gasp of surprise. Harry glanced over at his sister and frowned. He reached down and squeezed her hand.

"What happened?" Emily asked as she attempted to get a closer look at the scar while still being discrete about it.

"That," Harry said with an almost cold smile, "is a story for another time."

In the car ahead of them, Spencer Reid sat in the back of the car with Hotchner and Rossi at the front. He was gazing out of the window while the others' eyes were flicking back to him. The two older men shared a small glance.

Try as he might, Spencer couldn't forget the last night Hermione and he spend together. She hadn't called to cancel. She had just disappeared. The pain…strangely…didn't fade. It was then he knew that she was the one for him. He could never devote so much to anyone else. He had searched for so long, but it seemed as though she had simply dropped off the face of the earth. Well, that was until now. There were so many things he wanted to speak with her about.

"You okay, kid?" Rossi asked from the passenger seat. Spencer picked his head up off of the rest and looked toward the older man. He caught sight of Aaron's brown eyes watching him through the rearview mirror. He nodded.

"I'm fine," he answered. Rossi nodded and studied him some more. Spencer fought against the urge to fidget.

"So…Mrs. Granger and you knew one another since childhood?" Rossi questioned rhetorically. He had been in the room after all. "It must be nice to reconnect with her."

"It is," he stated. "It really is…" Rossi glanced over at Hotch when it became clear that they would get no more out of him. Spencer suppressed a small chuckle.

Derek gently eased the hidden door open and then froze. There, just inches from the door's edge, was a trip wire. He closed his eyes and let out a small sigh of relief. He motioned for the team to move back around to the front of the house. The man that was their suspect sat on the bench outside of his home. His hands firmly handcuffed around the arm of the nailed down bench. The cocky smirk he had worn on his face when they approached him was now gone; and his uncertainty and fear were beginning to show.

Harry smiled as Derek stepped to the side to allow Hermione to walk through. It was a wise move. Both Harry and she had been trained (by themselves) to hunt for traps and bombs. Instead of flicking on the light switch that leads down to the basement, Hermione instructed all to use their flash lights. As they descended the stairs, they could hear the cry of a woman. Still Hermione kept her steady, cautious pace.

Slowly, they reached the cell the poor woman was being held in. Hermione stepped away and allowed Harry to do what he did best: pick locks. His time with the Dursleys at least taught him that skill. He could still recall the lock that they had put on the refrigerator as well as the looks on their faces when they would find food missing. After only a few seconds, the lock released. Harry unwrapped the chain from around the door and pulled it open. The team tensed for a moment, frightened that Harry had unknowingly tripped another hidden wire. Nothing happened except for the frightened woman throwing herself into a surprised Harry's arms.

"You're safe. You're safe," Harry repeated as he helped her up dark stair well. Harry and Hermione shared a small smile as they walked. Their first case with the BAU had been a complete success.