A/N: Sorry this update took so long. The arthritis in my left hand made typing slow. When my hand cramps too much I have to either stop typing for a few days, or use one hand. Coupled with writer's block, and not being able to get the chapter the way I want it, it took longer than I planned. But regardless, I will try to get the updates on both stories out as often as possible.
Chapter 15
For the next two days, Hotch and the team went over everything they had uncovered during their investigation. But to their disappointment, nothing new stood out to them. Even Garcia had no new information for them about Ronald Brandt. It was as if the man never existed after leaving Reno, Nevada. And that didn't sit well with any of them. As the day turned into early evening, Morgan let out a deep breath and tossed his folder onto the table.
"This is getting us nowhere," he complained. "I can recite what's in these files by heart considering how many times I've gone over 'em."
"I agree with Morgan," Emily sighed shoving a folder away from her. "All we have on this Ronald Brandt is what Garcia was able to find. It's like he's dropped off the face of the earth."
"A stalker is not gonna forget about his victim just because she's moved away. He's gonna follow her," began Rossi. "Brandt has to be in Santa Barbara somewhere because Clarissa Meadows was here. And he wasn't about to let her get away. We might have even talked to him during our investigation."
"Rossi's right," Reid agreed. "The percentage of stalkers who follow their targets to another state to continue stalking them are great. We see it all the time."
"But nobody just disappears like this," Hotch said, the frustration showing on his face. "There has to be a paper trail somewhere." He ran a hand over his dark hair. "We're missing something." He thought briefly about the envelope with the blocked lettering. Hotch let out a deep breath, picked up a copy of Brandt's photo which Garcia had sent the day before, and studied it. He dropped it back on the table. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Prentiss, go back to the hospital and speak with Dr. Dracut again. Take Detective Parsons with you. Show Dracut a photo of Ronald Brandt and see if he recognizes him. Also check with hospital personnel. If Brandt works there, he could be using an alias."
"I'm on it," Emily said getting to her feet.
Hotch opened his eyes and looked at his youngest agent. "Reid, I want you to return to Lorimar's bookstore. Dave, go with him. Talk with Barstow's boss again. We need to find out how Barstow ended up in a yellow cab when he was suppose to be working on the day he disappeared. Also, see if the cab belonged to Canary Yellow cab company."
Nodding, Rossi started to his feet. "Let's go, kid," he said to Reid.
Hotch then looked up at the blond. "JJ, you have a good relationship with the Meadows family. Call them and find out if they remember if their daughter called for a cab before she went shopping. I understand she had her own car but it was in for repairs. We need to find out if she called the same cab company while her car was being repaired. Then call the cab company and see if they have a record of her call to them, and who's cab was assigned to pick her up before she disappeared."
"Right," the blond replied getting up quickly.
Hotch then looked at Morgan. "We need to take another look at the victimology. Maybe something there might tell us what it is we're missing."
"Well," Morgan began rubbing his chin. "We know victimology is why this particular victim at his particular time. But somehow, I don't think victimology applies in this case."
"What are you thinking?"
"Let's forget Clarissa Meadows for the moment. From what we have on the other three, they share nothing in common. Garcia has found no link between them. They didn't even travel in the same circles. Anthony Barstow worked in a bookstore. Shannon Carstairs was preparing to move to Alameda. The only two who had something in common were Thomas Gannon and Clarissa Meadows. He attended Westmont College, and she UC Santa Barbara."
"The fact that both were college students," Hotch said. Morgan nodded his head.
"I think this guy's picking victims at random," he said. "Who he kills doesn't matter. These were all victims of convenience. He's building up to a climax by targeting somebody on this team and making us believe it's me."
Hotch folded his hands on top of the table and looked at his friend. He didn't have to say anything as his eyes said what was on his mind.
"Hotch, I know what you're thinkin', man," Morgan explained. "And I'm not gonna let you do it."
"Do what?" Hotch asked stacking his folders in front of him without looking at Morgan.
"Making yourself an easy target for this guy."
Hotch feigned surprise and looked at his subordinate. "What makes you think I would do that?"
Morgan clasped his hands on top of a folder. He stared directly into his boss's deep brown eyes. "Because I know you, Hotch. This team needs you. Jack needs his father. If this guy is looking to kill someone on this team, I'll be damned if I let it be you."
Hotch let out a deep breath. "Morgan…."
"No. I know what its like growing up without a dad. I still miss him every day. I'd give anything to have him back in my life again. Do you really want Jack to go through that? I won't let you do it and neither will anybody else on this team."
Hotch arched an eyebrow. "You won't let me? Morgan, I will not jeopardize any member of this team to catch this guy. But should it come down to that being the only way, then the decision is mine and mine alone. And I am the logical choice. But rest assured, I do not intend to die. But if I should, I trust you will take over and lead this team."
Armitage kept close to the side wall of the police precinct as he waited in the alleyway. He had seen Rossi, Prentiss, Reid, and the lead detective leave the police station and climb into two separate vehicles. A smirk appeared. "Three down and one to go," he muttered knowing that Hotch, JJ, and Morgan still remained inside the precinct. All he had to do now was get Morgan out of the way thus leaving Hotchner and JJ alone. He reached inside his inner jacket pocket, and his fingers touched the taser he brought with him. Then, he reached in his jacket pocket, and gripped the paperweight he had brought with him to use as a weapon. His vehicle was parked directly outside the alleyway only a few yards away. All was in readiness.
Once she finished speaking with Dorothy Meadows, and then with the dispatcher for the cab company, JJ closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Dorothy Meadows remembered her daughter calling the Canary Yellow cab company to drive her into town the day she disappeared, but she didn't get a look at the driver. When JJ contacted the cab company, she was told they had a record of a pick up at the street address JJ recognized as belonging to the Meadows family. Thanking the female dispatcher, JJ let out a deep breath. She needed a break before reporting back to her boss. This entire case was giving her a headache. She needed a breath of air, and didn't think stepping outside the precinct for a few minutes would be a problem. And she wouldn't stray far. She would stay right outside the precinct. She walked up to the information desk and smiled at the young sergeant seated behind the counter. The man, who had been smitten with the beautiful blond, smiled broadly.
"Can I help you, Agent Jareau?" he asked staring into the woman's blue eyes. She had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
JJ had seen the look the young man was giving her when she first arrived. And while she was flattered by the attention, the man was too young. Even when she was single, she had never been one to 'rob the cradle' as the saying went. Besides, she was madly in love with Will. She fingered her necklace in a way so her wedding and engagement rings could be seen.
"If anybody's looking for me, I stepped outside for a few minutes to get a breath of air," she told the officer.
"Yes, ma'am." The uniformed officer spotted JJ's wedding ring and blushed with embarrassment. He watched the blond turn and walk toward the double glass doors, and push them open. She stepped out into the cool evening air, took in and let out a deep breath. The cool air felt good on her face. JJ looked back and forth, and noticed how quiet and nearly deserted the street was for early evening. She put the palms of her hands on the back of her hips and bent backward to stretch her muscles before straightening.
She then folded her arms across her chest and slowly walked around before she leaned against the edge of the building, her back partially facing the alleyway. JJ looked up at the night sky and marveled at how clear it was. So involved was she at looking up, she didn't see the danger approaching from behind until she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. That was followed by a pair of arms catching her before she hit the ground as her legs buckled. As she fought against the darkness trying to claim her, a pair of arms grabbed her under her armpits, and dragged her into the alleyway.
Nearly forty-five minutes had gone by with no sign of JJ before Hotch and Morgan became worried.
Morgan looked at his watch. "JJ shouldn't be taking this long to make two telephone calls." He looked at Hotch. "Want me to go check on her?"
"I'll do it," Hotch announced getting to his feet. He left the conference room and walked into the outer room. His eyes scanned the area but saw no sign of the blond woman. His gut was telling him something was wrong. Concerned, Hotch walked up to the information desk. "Excuse me, I'm looking for a member of my team. Agent Jennifer Jareau. Have you seen her?"
The same sergeant, now busy with paperwork, lifted his head and looked at Hotch. "The lady with the long blond hair and pretty blue eyes?"
"Yes. Have you seen her?"
"Yes, sir. She said she needed some air and stepped outside."
Hotch glared at the young officer. The sergeant seemed to shrink under the agent's harsh glare. "There is a serial killer out there targeting men and women. And you just let her go outside alone?" he hissed in anger.
"I…I didn't see any harm, sir. She only stepped outside a few minutes ago and…" he stammered. Hotch, not wanting to hear the man's apology, turned abruptly and headed for the doors.
Once outside, Hotch looked in each direction, but saw no sign of the blond. A cold chill ran down his spine. If anything happened to JJ he would never forgive himself. He walked down the sidewalk away from the precinct. "JJ!" he shouted getting no response. In a panic, he quickly doubled back in the opposite direction toward the end of the building. "JJ! Answer me! It's Hotch!" It was then he heard moaning. Looking around the corner of the precinct, Hotch spotted a pair of jean-covered legs partially hidden behind several trash cans. "JJ!" he shouted and ran into the alley. Reaching JJ, he knelt beside her and carefully rolled her over onto her back, holding up her head. As he lay her head back down and took his hand away, there was blood on his palm.
The blond struggled to stay conscious. She was having difficulty focusing on the figure crouched beside her, despite the voice being familiar.
"JJ, it's Hotch. Can you tell me who did this to you?"
JJ tried to sit up on her own. "Ho…Hotch…" she fell back down and struggled to sit up again. "Hotch…" she muttered.
"Shhhh. Take it easy, JJ. You're hurt, and could have a concussion. Lay still." Hotch reached inside his jacket and removed his cell. He couldn't leave JJ alone and he needed help. He began scrolling down his list of contacts until he came to Morgan's name.
Despite her fuzzy vision, JJ could make out the outline of a figure silently creeping up behind her supervisor. "No…" Hotch, believing JJ was arguing with him about needing help, paused before pressing Morgan's number to gently grab the blond's wrists. He wanted to keep her from moving about too much and hurting herself more.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. Somebody was approaching him from behind, and he sensed danger. He reached for his waist holster and turned at the same time. His main goal was to protect JJ at all cost. But before he could, he felt a burst of pain on the back of his neck and fell over onto JJ's legs.
JJ sensed Hotch was in trouble, and struggled to get up and help him, but she kept becoming dizzy and nauseous. She fell on her back again and groaned. She managed to raise an arm and massage her forehead. Her head hurt like hell. But Hotch needed her help.
"No," she cried out seeing someone turn Hotch onto his back and remove the Glock from the holster attached to his belt and stuff it in his belt. He then removed the unconscious man's backup weapon and tossed it aside. The man also tossed aside Hotch's cell phone. "Stop," JJ warned rolling onto her side in a feeble try to get up, but again fell backward. Her head was spinning and her eyes were unfocused. She closed her eyes and shook her head hoping to clear the cobwebs. The weight on her legs lessened, and realized Hotch 's body was being moved by the same person who had attacked and dragged her into the alley. JJ opened her eyes. "Leave him alone."
The blond winced as she rolled onto her side again, and struggled to push herself up using one arm. She reached out her other arm. "Leave him alone," she repeated. JJ grabbed the discarded Glock, and started dragging herself along the ground. She hoped to get close enough to fire a shot to stop the man from taking Hotch away. Despite her muddled mind, she believed the man was the Unsub, and he had Hotch. She couldn't let him take her boss and friend away and do to him what he had done to the others. "Stop! FBI!" she said weakly. Even the sound of her own voice added to the pain in her head. But none of that mattered right now.
As she dragged herself further, she saw the man dumping the unconscious Hotch into the back of a dark vehicle, and jump in behind him. The man secured Hotch's arms behind his back. He looked at the blond with an amused smirk as he jumped down, slid the door closed, and calmly walked to the front of his vehicle. JJ, by now, had dragged herself to the mouth of the alleyway. She raised a shaky hand, and prepared to squeeze the trigger. But with her blurred vision, she was afraid to fire; afraid she might hit somebody other than her intended target.
"No," she cried out in anguish as the vehicle pulled away from the curb. With a frustrated sigh, JJ's head fell on her outstretched arm, her fingertips resting on the handle of the gun. "Hotch…" she murmured as darkness overtook her completely.