A/N: The plot thickens…
"She had trouble understanding why I was so close to my team members. You understand that deep bounds are forged between you and the ones who watch your back in dangerous situations. Beth wasn't law enforcement. She couldn't comprehend that the horrible things we saw day in and day out actually brought us closer together. We weren't reminded of the horrible things we saw when we looked at each other. We were reminded of the good there is in the world and that we aren't alone in our efforts."
"Was there one particular agent she seemed concerned about?"
Hotch remembered Beth's comments about Emily that night, but he still refused to bring the female agent into this mess.
"She expressed comments regarding several of my agents."
"Not anyone in particular?" the detective persisted.
"As I said, Beth made comments regarding several of my agents," Aaron repeated firmly.
Kramer peered at Hotch over the tops of his reading glasses, but probed no further. Instead, he took off his reading glasses and leaned back into his chair. He regarded Hotch for a few silent seconds, staring into the FBI agent's inscrutable eyes. Kramer picked up a pen and began to idly doodle on a pad of paper before him. He drew a series of coils, his pen moving in a rhythmic way as his pen glided across the paper. He continued doing this for several seconds, Hotch ignoring what he was doing and continuing to look directly at the other man.
"So, tell me where you were last night." Kramer finally asked.
Though his face remained impassive, Hotch couldn't help but feel his stomach roil uneasily. He couldn't remember where he was or what he did the night before. His headache had subsided thanks to the water and aspirin, but his recollection of yesterday was still fuzzy and enormous gaps remained. Something was wrong with him or something wrong had been done to him. Hotch knew he was not prone to black outs and this gap in his memories to happen with Beth's death, it was too much of a coincidence.
"Agent Hotchner?" Kramer repeated as the other man continued his silence.
He had to be honest with Kramer. Anything else would be seen as an attempt to hide something and would make him look guiltier than he already did to the detective. Though, Hotch doubted this was going to make him look that great either. "I can't exactly remember," Hotch finally said in a reluctant tone.
"I'm sorry?" Kramer arched an eyebrow.
Hotch sighed. "I can't remember what I did last night."
Kramer pursed his lips together and then let out a small puff of air. "Okay, what is the last thing you do remember from yesterday?"
Hotch thought hard. "I was at the office. We had several consultations in the morning and the afternoon and part of the evening was spent doing paperwork." It was a quiet day. He could see himself in his office at the BAU, working steadily at his desk. He would pause now and then to stretch or take a small breather. Usually, his eyes would wander and he would find himself looking out into the bullpen.
Emily. He remembered she was wearing a red blouse yesterday and she had been leaning against her desk talking animatedly with Reid and JJ. He had watched them for a few minutes, thinking how good it was to see her back at her desk. He had refused to fill her position when she was gone, always finding fault with potential candidates that Strauss had tried to force on him. Even when Seaver was briefly with them, she had known better than to sit at Emily's desk, the desk that was clearly visible to Hotch. For months, he had looked out into the bullpen and only saw that one unoccupied space. Now, Prentiss was finally back where she belonged. It had been a good feeling seeing her, a feeling of rightness and contentment. Hotch then turned his attention to the file in front of him and went back to his work.
"That's all you remember? Just being at the office. You must have left since we found you at home. Do you remember driving home? Making any stops anywhere."
Slowly, Hotch shook his head. "No. The next thing I remember is you knocking on my door."
"I see." Hotch glanced sharply at the detective, hearing the disbelieving tone in the other man's voice. "We do have some idea of where you spent part of your evening."
"Where?" That uneasy feeling was back. Kramer knew much more than Hotch did at this point and he had been slowly revealing it bit by bit in a way where he could use it to his greatest advantage.
Kramer stood up and went to the door of the interrogation room. He opened it and spoke to someone on the other side. A few minutes later, an officer handed Kramer a laptop. The detective sat back down at the table and put the laptop between Hotch and himself so both men could watch the screen. Kramer tapped a few buttons and video footage of a hallway appeared. Hotch recognized the location: it was the hallway to Beth's apartment.
"We checked the security cameras in Ms. Clemmons' apartment building. This footage is from the floor she lives on. As you can see, there's a clear shot of her front door." They waited in silence and a few seconds later, Hotch appeared in the film. He knocked and Beth answered the door. He went into the apartment and the door closed behind him.
Hotch swallowed thickly. He could tell from the date and time stamp of the footage, it was taken at 9:17 pm last night. He had gone to Beth's.
"What time does it show me leaving?" Aaron asked quietly.
"Ah, that's the interesting thing," Kramer said as he tapped a few keys to fast forward the footage. It had progressed to 10:32 pm when suddenly snow filled the screen. Kramer kept it on fast forward and then the picture reappeared at 2:39 am. "Someone tampered with the camera. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, Agent Hotchner?"
Hotch stared into Kramer's piercing eyes. He had no explanation. He had no memory. But the footage clearly put him at Beth's last night.
"I think it's time for me to invoke my rights," Hotch said in a low tone.
"Good idea."
When Emily arrived at Rossi's house, all she found was Garcia furiously working at her laptop.
"Where is everybody?" the brunette asked the tech.
Garcia looked up from her computer screen and looked around the room vaguely. "Uhm, Morgan and JJ went to check out Beth's apartment and Rossi and Reid are at the art gallery she worked at. I'm gathering as much information as I can on Beth. We know Hotch didn't do anything to her, but doesn't mean someone else didn't have it in for her or something."
"There's another possibility," Emily said slowly as she sat down on the couch next to Garcia.
"What?"
"Someone trying to get back at Hotch."
Penelope sucked in her breath. "Another Foyet?"
Emily shrugged. "Hotch has put away a lot of bad guys in his career. We have to consider the possibility that someone could have gone after Beth to get to Hotch."
"But you heard him," Garcia protested. "Hotch broke up with her weeks ago."
"Did you know about it?" When Garcia shook her head, Emily replied, "Neither did I. And maybe the person who did this didn't know either. Besides checking out Beth, you better start compiling a list of potential suspects who have a grudge against Hotch."
"Emily, that's a huge list!"
Prentiss sighed. "I know, but we're going to have to consider it until something discounts that avenue." She stood up and started to leave again.
"Where are you going?"
"Hotch's apartment. If the others can't get into Beth's place, if my contact can't get the case file and we can't talk to Hotch, where going to have to try to figure out how he spent last night in order to clear him of any suspicion. I'm going to see what his apartment can tell me."
"That's the last of them," JJ said as the final police car pulled away from the curb to follow the technician van down the street. "The apartment should be empty."
"Let's go," Morgan said as he got out of the car. JJ followed close behind.
Beth lived in a secure building but after randomly pressing a dozen buttons, one of the residents simply buzzed them in, thinking they had a visitor. JJ and Morgan entered and silently took the elevator up to the fifth floor.
The yellow crime scene tape clearly indicated which apartment belonged to Beth Clemmons. With JJ keeping a watch out, Morgan carefully peeled back the tape and attempted to pick the lock.
"Damn, we should have waited for Prentiss for this one," Morgan grumbled as he clumsily tried to open the door.
"Kicking it down is more your method," JJ said half-teasingly. She shifted uneasily on her feet. "Hurry up. I feel so exposed here. You know if we're caught, we'll be lucky to keep our jobs."
"You can bail now, JJ, and no one would think any less of you."
The blonde snorted. Of course they would. She would think less of herself at least. All of them were willing to risk their careers and lives for Hotch, but if they could avoid being fired and brought up on potential tampering charges, she'd be much happier.
"Got it," Morgan muttered as they heard a faint click. The door swung open and ducking under the remaining tape, they slipped into the apartment and quietly closed the door behind them.
The apartment was in shambles. It was obvious that a fight had taken place there. Furniture was askew, broken glass littered the floor. Knickknacks and books were strewn about. A bowl of fruit had been upset and the contents had rolled haphazardly across the floor. But most disconcerting were the telltale reddish-brown stains on one wall.
"God, what happened here?" JJ whispered, her eyes wide.
Morgan was frowning however. "Do we know if anyone called in a disturbance?"
"I'm not sure."
"You don't get this type of destruction without making a lot of noise. And this building? Built in the early 80's. The walls aren't particularly thick. Her neighbors should have heard something."
"They may not have wanted to get involved. That happens a lot these days. Or the apartments are empty. I'll make sure Garcia looks into it," JJ said as she began to move around the apartment.
They worked in silence for a few moments, careful to disturb things as little as possible or if they had to move something, to put it back exactly where they had found it.
At one point, Morgan picked up a photograph of Beth and Hotch. The glass had been shattered and the photo itself was concaved in from the damage. "She obviously had a hard time letting go."
JJ glanced over at the picture and snorted softly. At Morgan's raised eyebrow she elaborated. "I didn't really like her."
Morgan looked surprise. "Really? Why? I only met her a few times and didn't get to know her too well."
"Me too, but something about her just set my teeth on edge. She was fine around you guys, but I swear, she seemed to glare at me and Emily all the time. Especially Em."
"Glare at you?"
"If I didn't know any better, I would say she thought one of us was having an affair with Hotch."
Morgan was silent for half a beat too long and JJ raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.
"What?"
"Nothing," Morgan muttered as he continued to search the apartment.
"No, it's something. What?"
Derek sighed as he straightened up from the desk he had been rifling through. "I don't know, but sometimes with Hotch and Prentiss…"
"Hotch and Prentiss what?" JJ persisted when Morgan stopped again.
"I can kinda see why Beth might have thought something could be going on between those two because of the way they look at each other sometimes." At JJ's incredulous look, Morgan shook his head. "Have you ever noticed how in tune they seem with each other? How they even move in an almost synchronized fashion."
"It just comes from working together for so long."
"JJ, Em's my partner. We're not even that in tune with each other. And then there's Doyle…"
"What about Doyle?" JJ's voice was sharp. Even after all these months, she was still sensitive to any criticism for the actions they took to protect Emily.
"Did Hotch ever come down once on Emily for keeping Doyle a secret from him?" Morgan asked quietly. "You know how he is about being told everything, about protocols. But he never once said anything to her. Didn't even put her on probation when she came back. Nothing. He did that with that case that involved her old friends. Matthew and that John Cooley guy. He seems to give her a lot of leeway."
"That's not true. Hotch sent her home in the middle of that case involving her friends."
"But she pressed on it and he backed down." Morgan shook his head. "Maybe I'm like Beth and I'm seeing things, but I'm just saying even if it means nothing, the way Hotch acts around Emily sometimes, it could give a girlfriend the wrong idea."
While Morgan turned his attention back to the desk, JJ wandered silently into Beth's bedroom. For a moment, she simply stared into the open closet door as Morgan's words played over in her mind. She had to admit, there were times where she wondered about her two friends and if perhaps there was something more there. She could hear Hotch clearly as he interrogated Clyde Easter, "If anything happens to her, I will destroy you." It was said in such a cold and deadly tone, a voice JJ had never heard come from Hotch before, she wasn't sure what to make of it then and she wasn't sure now.
The blonde sighed and shook her head as though to clear it. She moved over to the closet and began to search it. As she looked at Beth's clothes, something began to niggle at the back of her head. She frowned, pausing every now and then to examine a piece of clothing more closely.
"Morgan!" she called out as she continued to flick through the assorted dresses, jackets, and blouses.
"Find something?" he asked as he stepped into the bedroom.
JJ pulled out a dress from the closet. "Look familiar?"
Morgan gave her a puzzled look. "Uhm, no? Should it?"
JJ shoved the dress back into the closet and pulled out a blouse. "How about this?" She reached back in and pulled out another blouse. "Or this?" She grabbed a jacket next. "Or this?"
"JJ, what are you getting at."
"These clothes! I would say about 30% of these clothes I've seen before."
"You've seen Beth that much?"
"No! That's the point! These are the exact same clothes Emily has!"
"I'm going to guess that it's too much to hope for that maybe Beth was just shopping at the same places and they have the same taste?"
JJ snorted. "Hardly. Look at the rest of her clothes that from the style and wear, she's had much longer than these other items. Completely different style and taste. Hell, the colors aren't even in the same family. And look, some of these clothes that are the same as Em's, still have their tags on them."
"What the Hell was she doing copying Prentiss' wardrobe. And how would Beth know what Emily owned?" Morgan mused.
"Only one way: Beth was watching Emily."
A/N 2: Even more complications! Please let me know what you think! Thanks!