A.N. As with 'Consequences', I have to apologize up front to all of you who are familiar with the practice of law. No doubt I've gotten process issues wrong, including how a law office functions. Not to mention facts. I can't even 'plead the fifth'-I'm guilty.

A Voice Cries Out

Chapter 4

How appropriate, thought Rossi, as they pulled into a small condo complex on the outskirts of the city. The external walls were the color of sand, making the building blend into the desert background that offset it. It's barely there.

They'd been met by the patrol officer who'd conducted the original welfare check.

"Agents Rossi and Jareau? I'm Officer Guidry."

All three shook hands before heading in from the parking lot. Rossi quizzed the patrolman as they walked.

"So, you did the original check, is that right?"

"Yes, sir. It was a little unusual, being called out on the same day. You know, most people don't get excited if a competent adult is missing for a few hours."

Rossi nodded. "Agreed. We all need to be able to blow off some steam on our own now and then. But this was a different situation….."

"Yes, sir, it was. They'd just found that poor IRS guy dead in the desert, and then that KBNV reporter come up with that other IRS guy, and then they tried to make it sound like it was connected to that tax lawyer ran off a few months ago. This guy's," he poked a finger in the direction of the condo, "office was all over that. As soon as he didn't show up for work, they were on the phone."

There was something in his tone that bothered JJ. It sounded almost dismissive, as though he thought he'd been sent on a wild goose chase. She probed him.

"You do understand that the cases might be related, don't you? Between the tax attorneys and the IRS victim?"

"Well, I know the muckety-mucks believe it. Me? Not so sure. I know it's come out that tax lawyer who went missing before owed money to his clients. Probably ran off with their settlements, if you ask me."

JJ looked at Rossi, asking an unvoiced question. Could William Reid have done the same? Could he have swindled clients and run off? Is that the kind of man he is?

Rossi just gave a subtle shake of his head that conveyed his wish to put off that particular discussion. Now he turned back to Guidry who, for reasons neither of the SSAs could understand, was sounding increasingly hostile as the conversation proceeded. Rossi decided a little exploration was in order.

"Are you thinking they called us in prematurely?"

Guidry looked like he was measuring his words, not sure of his response. Finally, he settled on something.

"If the brass think it's time for the FBI, then it's time for the FBI. My pay grade doesn't make those decisions. All I'm sayin' is that I conducted a welfare check, and found nothing to point me in the direction of thinking anything bad happened to this guy."

Defensive. But there was no reason to make enemies this early in an investigation. Rossi decided to be conciliatory.

Nodding his agreement with the police officer, he said, "You were asked to check on Mr. Reid's welfare, and you did. You found nothing out of order, and no signs of illness or injury. The FBI isn't questioning that at all."

JJ understood her colleague's strategy, and added, "You were able to tell us what didn't happen to Mr. Reid. We're here to take a different kind of look," careful to avoid using the word 'better', "to see if we can get an idea of where he might have gone, or when."

Placated for the moment, Guidry moved ahead of them and opened the door, using a key.

"Where did you get that?" Like the others, JJ had wondered how the police had obtained access to William Reid's condo.

Guidry pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Fake rock. Like all the crooks in the country don't know about them." He shook his head in ridicule. "Hard to believe somebody graduated from law school would do something so stupid. Why not just leave the door wide open?"

The profilers exchanged another look. The not-so-hidden-key meant that anyone could have accessed the condo without needing a ruse, or a break-in tool.

Or, the fact that the key was still in place when Officer Guidry performed his welfare check could mean that no one had used it at all. Perhaps William Reid had simply disappeared again, as his son had said.

"Oh, thank God. Agent Hotchner, Agent Prentiss, we're so glad you're here."

Office Manager Dorothy Ricks met them at the front desk and was now escorting the two agents to a large conference room.

"Attorney Reid is such a good man, and such an important part of our business. I don't like to even think about anything happening to him."

They'd settled into the room and taken seats. Emily stated the obvious. "And yet you did think something might have happened to him. Are you the person who called the police?"

Dorothy nodded. "Betty was the one who told me he hadn't shown for a 9 AM deposition, and that was virtually unheard of. No, actually it was literally unheard of. I don't think William….Attorney Reid has ever been late for anything."

"Ma'am," Hotch now, "was there anything else that might have made you think something had happened to him? Something that would have pointed you away from the ordinary?"

Emily tried to help her. "A reason why you didn't just assume he'd had a flat tire, or something along those lines."

Dorothy waved the latter suggestion away. "Oh, no. William would never be caught unprepared. He would have had AAA there right away. And he would have called m….us…., at the very least. No, it was totally out of character for him. I knew right away that I should call the police."

The agents exchanged a quick glance, but then continued on with their questioning.

Emily took the lead now. "What about cases? Was there anything unusual about what he was working on? Anyone unhappy with how things were going?"

Dorothy shrugged. "There's always someone unhappy. If not our clients, who file some of the most ridiculous lawsuits, in spite of counsel against them, then it's the people on the other end of the lawsuits."

Hotch didn't choose to share his own background in law. "Did Mr. Reid have a primary field of practice?" Knowing he'd been described as a tax attorney, but not certain his practice had been that limited.

"Did he?" Dorothy picked up on the use of the past tense. "You think he's dead, don't you?"

Emily tried to calm her. "We don't think anything, Ms. Ricks. We're simply trying to gather information."

Hotch joined in the effort. "Perhaps we could start with a review of his current case list. Who would be the best person to assist with that?"

"His paralegal. That would be Desmond. He's in the library. Would you like me to bring him here?"

Hotch thought a moment and then decided. "It would be very helpful if we could look at Mr. Reid's office for few minutes, and then we can meet with Desmond."

Dorothy indicated her assent and led them down an L-shaped hallway, stopping at the next-to-corner office. Hotch, though never in private practice, was familiar with the symbolic placement of the individual attorney's office. William rated an outside space, and thereby a window view. But the owner of the corner office outranked him.

Dorothy used a master key to unlock the door and swung it open, entering ahead of the agents.

"It's pristine. Always has been. He's always kept it 'just so'."

She was right. Looking at William's desk, Emily could see that the phone was situated exactly the same distance from each side of the desk, in the upper right corner. A stapler was aligned perfectly beside the phone, and a wire basket next to that.

"The basket is empty. Is that typical?"

Emily wondered if the elder Reid was that quick in turning his work around. But she also wanted to know if the fact that no new work was accumulating might indicate something about how the office staff interpreted his disappearance.

"William is always prompt in his paperwork," said Dorothy with obvious pride. "He's one of our leaders in terms of billable hours, and he makes certain to have the documentation completed as soon as possible."

"But would his desk actually be empty?" Emily waved at the immaculate surface.

"Well….no, not quite that. I usually distribute things at the end of the day, before I leave for home, so it will be available for the attorneys when they come in."

"And, so…" prompted Emily.

Sadness showed in Dorothy's face. "I left things for him for the first couple of days. But, when we didn't hear from him….. well, I'm the office manager. I can't let things back up. I redistributed them."

Hotch, though he'd practiced law only as a prosecutor, was aware of how most law offices worked. He began to wonder if Dorothy hadn't accidentally 'redistributed' something crucial.

"What did you do with cases where Mr. Reid was already the attorney of record?"

Dorothy understood what he was asking. "Oh, I gave all of those to Attorney Halstrom. He's the founding partner. He wanted to be sure our ongoing customers would be satisfied."

Now Emily saw where Hotch had been going. "So you only redistributed cases that Mr. Reid hadn't already had in progress?"

"Exactly."

"All right, thank you."

Hotch was already moving about the office, looking for anything that might give him a work-based clue as to William's disappearance, while Prentiss scoured the office for the personal. Her scouring took only a minute.

"Wow, his office is rather….spare, isn't it? I mean there's only these few photos with….what, a Little League team?"

Dorothy smiled. "The firm sponsors the team. And William has been an assistant coach with them for as long as I've known him. He loves children."

That brought on a quick exchange of eye contact between the two profilers. Except his own, went through both minds.

Emily continued with the short inventory of personal items in William's office. She picked up what looked like a wire metal sculpture. "Is this a…"

"It's the solar system. A model of it. William has a strong interest in science and mathematics. He told me once that he might have gone into science if he hadn't chosen the law. Maybe that's why he specialized in tax law. It requires a good knowledge of accounting."

"The fascination with numbers…" murmured Hotch, recognizing the Reid family trait. He looked at Dorothy.

"You've known him a long time, haven't you?"

"The entire thirty years I've been here."

Emily followed Hotch's train of thought. "You seem fond of him."

Dorothy blushed. "It's nothing like that. I mean, not that I wouldn't have liked…" She cut herself off, feeling like she'd said too much.

"We're not trying to intrude, Ms. Ricks. We simply need to get as clear a picture of Mr. Reid as we can. It might help us find him." Emily was sympathetic.

Dorothy looked out the window, apparently considering. When she'd decided, she turned back to the agents.

"William is a very private man. He doesn't let many people get close to him. I think he may have shared more with me than with almost anybody else here, but even with me, he's always been circumspect. You know….when you can tell there's more to be told, but you can't tell what it is."

The FBI agents thought they knew at least one of the things the elder Reid might not have been sharing with his co-worker. The question was…how many other things was he not telling?

"Welcome to 'Blooms'. How can I help you?"

Morgan flashed his badge at the young Native American woman behind the counter.

"We're from the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. We'd like to ask you some questions about one of your customers."

"Ookaay…" She sounded uncertain.

"Just a few questions," clarified Reid. "We're not investigating you. We're trying to find a missing person."

She seemed to relax at that. "Oh. Okay, how can I help?"

Morgan explained. "We're looking for a man who's been reported missing, and one of the last things he did was to buy flowers from you."

"He made a purchase with his credit card on December 31," added Reid.

"Wow. You're not asking much, are you? Only a zillion guys came in here for flowers that day. It was New Year's Eve."

Morgan acknowledged the dilemma. "We realize that. But we need to know who he sent those flowers to."

The clerk moved away from the counter and started for a doorway leading toward the back of the shop.

"Are you sure he sent flowers? What if he just picked something up?"

They'd been aware of that as a possibility. Still, they needed to try.

"Can you just look it up for us?" Morgan insisted.

The clerk turned and shouted into the back. "Dad! I need you out here!"

A minute later, an older man emerged from the back, drying his hands on a towel.

"What do you need, Mary?" He stopped short when he saw Morgan's badge flashed once again. Then he stepped forward, dried hand extended.

"Ben Yazzie."

"I'm agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid." Shaking of hands all around.

Reid spoke up first. "Yazzie. That's a Navajo name, isn't it?"

"Sure is. You from around here?"

"I grew up in Las Vegas, but I live in DC now. But I remember this area as Paiute territory."

Yazzie agreed. "So it is. But we all live in peace now." He smiled as he said it, to show he'd taken no offense.

Reid was embarrassed anyway. "Sorry. I didn't mean to imply…."

"Nothing implied. No apology necessary. What can we do for you?"

Mary explained what the FBI agents were seeking. "See, I've been telling you, Dad. We need to modernize. I can't even tell them if this person picked up flowers or sent them to someone."

She turned to the agents. "I've been telling him we need to keep electronic records, but he says his old paper system is good enough."

Ben Yazzie had obviously been through this with his daughter before. "Relax, Mary. We don't need a fancy electronic filing system if we know our customers well." He turned back to Reid and Morgan. "Who is the customer you are inquiring about?"

Reid seemed to be deferring, so Morgan responded. "William Reid." He gave Yazzie a copy of the photo of William from his workplace website.

Reid watched as Yazzie reacted, even before seeing the photo.

"William Reid? He's missing?"

"You know him? You know him by name?"

Yazzie seemed a bit shaken by the news. It took him a minute to gather himself.

"I've been in business here for over twenty years. William was a faithful customer for nearly all of that time."

Morgan flashed a look at Reid, then turned back to Yazzie. "Can you look at this photo and confirm that the person in the photo is the one you knew as William Reid?"

Yazzie did so. "It's him," was the sad response. "Did something happen to him?"

"We're not sure. Right now, we're just investigating it as a missing persons case."

Mary was more clear-headed than her father in the moment. And she was surprised at what she'd heard.

"They call in the FBI for an adult missing person? From DC? And he's only been missing since last week?" It seemed a disproportionate response.

Morgan acknowledged it as unusual, and explained. "He may be part of another case. We're looking into his disappearance as a precaution."

Reid spoke up now, anxious for news. "So, if you know my…..if you know him, do you remember if he was sending flowers? If so, to whom?"

Ben Yazzie shook his head in regret. "He picked them up. I remember talking with him that day. Usually I wouldn't see him so often, but he'd been in only a week or so before. Sending something to his son's family for Christmas."

Reid's eyes shot to the floor. He'd accepted the arrangement into the house, but not acknowledged it to his father in any way. JJ had sent a 'thank you' card for all of them.

Morgan made note of Reid's reaction, and deflected attention from it by asking another question of Yazzie.

"You said he was a long time customer, but you weren't used to seeing him often."

"Right. A few times a year. It's just that, over the years, I came to recognize his face. I think it's important for a merchant to know his customers." Looking back at Mary, as though to say, And no computer will ever accomplish that.

Morgan continued the questioning. "Did he talk to you about who he was buying flowers for?"

Yazzie smiled. "Of course. He bought them for his wife."