A Voice Cries Out
Chapter 19
Rossi rode shotgun with Hotch, the better to keep an eye on their younger colleague in the back seat.
JJ had to sit on her hands to keep them from grabbing her husband's. Over their time together, she'd learned his penchant for isolating himself in a time of great stress. At first, it had seemed like a rejection….of her, of her sympathy, of her support. But she'd come to see it as a true need, and a part of his process of coping. He seemed to go deep inside, and then emerge with a little more steel in his spine, and a little more moxie to handle whatever was coming his way. She gathered it was a remnant of his childhood, when the only help he could ever rely on came from within. She'd often pictured the child Spencer pulling away, isolating himself from everything around him, and then rummaging around inside to find his courage. It always made her smile, and cry, at the same time.
She'd begun watching the landscape to take her mind off the man sitting next to her in palpable,abject turmoil. Much sooner than she'd expected, she felt his hand rake against her arm, looking for her fingers. Quickly she placed her hand in his and squeezed her support. It seemed that, this time, the adult Spencer had emerged quickly. He'd found what he could, inside. And then he'd reached for what…and who…had become his true repository of courage, and silently thanked God that she'd reached back to him.
In the second SUV, two more agents tried to come to grips with their own emotions. Concern for their colleague, and guilt over possibly having been wrong about the original case, made for a very tense ride. They vented their frustration, sharing it with the others over an open cell connection.
"I don't get it." Even over the phone, the angry tone in Morgan's voice was clear. "Did we get this whole thing wrong? Everything about Carmichael pointed to him."
"We never did get a confession…." Emily started to point out, from the seat next to him.
The strength of Morgan's explosion was evidence of his frustration. "Emily, he had their hearts in goddamn pickle jars in his refrigerator! It had to be him!"
From a few car lengths behind them, Hotch tried to calm his emotional agents.
"We don't know that this is related. Let's everybody keep their heads until we get to the scene."
As he turned to remark to his friend, Rossi used the opportunity to steal a glance into the back seat. He was relieved to see that Reid's color was returning, despite the tension still evident in the young man's features.
"It's a reasonable question, Aaron, don't you think? Carmichael died less than twenty four hours ago and, thanks to a tight-lipped task force, it hasn't even made the news cycle yet. It's too soon for a copycat."
"What about if he had an accomplice? A partner?" Emily ran some of the possibilities.
Morgan didn't think so. "Garcia would have found something. Someone else with a bone to pick with the IRS."
"Not necessarily, Derek." Rossi's years of experience contributed to his response. "All it takes is an idol, and a fan. A submissive accomplice might do anything with and for a dominant. Only the dominant needs the reason."
After a protracted period of disuse, Reid's voice cracked. "Hotch…..was everything….the same?"
Was my father's heart ripped from his chest? Were his last words cut off with his tongue?
The unit chief's eyes met Reid's in the rear view mirror. "We don't have details of the scene. Only that his body was found in the desert, in the vicinity of the visitor's center."
The location was different, but not different enough. They'd supposed the unsub wanted William's body found sooner, perhaps as part of some sort of game he'd begun to play with the task force. All they knew was that a state trooper, called to the scene by a hiker, had identified William from the photo that had been circulating for much of the past week. Given the body's state of dehydration, the resemblance had been vague, and, thereby, suspect. DNA would have to provide conclusive evidence.
Once they were out of the range of any cell towers, the rest of the long ride took place in silence, each agent's thoughts wandering the realms of 'what-if' and 'what now'. And each of the others mindful of the present, and coming, anguish of one among them.
The SUVs had been to the desert so often in the past week that they could have navigated themselves to the spot. In contrast to the prior trips, however, this time the vehicles stopped at the visitor's center. Its parking lot had been empty before, but now it hosted a wide range of vehicles.
"The bod….the vic…." Rossi was mindful of his words, and having trouble finding anything that wouldn't contribute to Reid's pain. Finally, he settled on, "They must have found him much closer to the center than I thought."
As they pulled to a stop, four of the BAU team emerged quickly from their vehicles, but Reid was stayed by JJ's hand on his chest.
"Are you sure you want to do this? We can leave it to the others, Spence. No one would mind. I think they might even expect it."
He pressed her hand to his chest in understanding, but shook his head. "I have to." He could barely get it out. "I just….I have to."
As he opened the door, JJ did the same and ran around the vehicle to be at his side. She had to walk double time to keep up with his long stride, and they caught up with the others just a short way into the desert. She noticed each of the others eyeing Reid as they approached the scene, and knew each of them would do what they could to make this just a little bit less horrendous.
The others followed in his wake as Hotch pushed his way through the gathered crowd of FBI, state and local police, and various crime scene personnel. When they'd reached the center of the circle, the BAU team stopped abruptly. And looked around. And looked around again.
"Where's the body?" demanded Hotch. He was ready to roll some heads himself if they'd messed up this particular crime scene.
Morgan was livid. The combined task force agencies had been nothing but professional in handling every aspect of the original part of the case. How could they have fouled things up when the victim belonged to one of their own?
"Don't tell me you moved the body! Do they spell 'stupid' with a capital 'S' around here?!"
Rossi turned to Reid and found the young man standing, mouth agape, looking at the spot where his father should have been. He was relieved to see that JJ and Prentiss had moved in to flank the young genius. He would need all the support they could give him.
Before any more angry words could be exchanged, Trooper Bell threaded through the crowd to reach the BAU team. Morgan recognized him from the earlier crime scenes, and hoped he could make some sense of this nonsensical tableau.
"What gives?"
Bell waved his arms, palms down, in a calming motion. "Relax. No one but the coroner's team has been into the actual scene. I've got it marked off, see?"
He pointed toward the ground, where an ellipse of brightly colored string could be seen lying on the sand.
"The ME was tied up all the way out past the east side of town, and wouldn't have been able to get here for a few hours. He sent his team ahead to start working the scene…..and one of them found a pulse. The vic was still alive. He's on his way to UMC now."
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines 'paralysis' as 'a state of being unable to function, act or move'. For one very long moment, each member of the BAU team experienced a state of paralysis. It was as though they were at the zero point of a pendulum swing. They'd arrived prepared to help Reid through the ordeal of identifying his father as the victim of a sadistic killer. To be told that William was still alive…..if it was, indeed, William…..would have brought comfort to most people. The kind of people who didn't know better. But the BAU had found victims near death before, and nearly all of them had succumbed. Collectively, the team felt that they dare not let the pendulum swing back into the realm of hope. They could only stand still.
Hotch recovered first. Making a rapid mental assessment of the situation, he began issuing orders.
"Morgan, Dave, you'll stay here and get what you can from the scene. We'll need to know if he's left any part of the signature. I don't have to tell you that we need to be very sure this time."
The two men nodded their acceptance of the task as Hotch continued speaking.
"The rest of us will go to the hospital. Prentiss, call ahead and make sure they're expecting us. Tell them there's to be no information released. I don't want the unsub knowing he left a victim alive."
He didn't have to say that JJ's assignment would be to hold her husband together. And Reid's would be to play the role of the worried son.
The foursome moved rapidly over the rough terrain as they headed back toward their SUV. Their silence was broken when Emily uttered a frustrated curse.
"Damn it! No service!"
They'd all forgotten. But Reid remembered something from his previous trips.
"We'll be in range 13.2 miles up the highway. If Hotch drives at 78 miles per hour, we can make the call in ten minutes."
Even considering how long they'd known him, the others were surprised at this rather dispassionate contribution from Reid. But JJ understood. It was a coping mechanism for Reid, this reverting to the known. Keeping his mind engaged in something else, so it wouldn't linger on what frightened him.
Hotch wasn't a senior profiler by accident. He read the situation and decided to play along.
"How fast do I have to go to make it in eight minutes?" he asked, as he climbed into the driver's seat.
"Ninety-nine. But you'd have to add time for acceleration." Reid tightened his seat restraint, and then made sure JJ did the same.
"All right, then," said Hotch, as he completed the three point turn around and the wheels of the SUV found pavement. "Everybody hold on!"
Acceleration ate up nearly a minute, so it was, according to Reid, eight minutes and fifty two seconds before they regained cell service. And another six seconds before Emily had the hospital on the line.
"There's to be no information given out, to anyone. Not a coworker, not a family member, all right? We have the only identified family member with us, anyone else claiming it might be the person who did this to him. Do you understand? All right. We should be there in about…." She turned to look at Reid.
"Thirty seven minutes….assuming there's no traffic."
Emily passed the word along, and then they heard her ask about William's condition.
"I see. Oh. All right. Yes. Thank you." She ended the call, and turned to Reid again.
"All she knew was that they had him in the ED, in the trauma bay. As far as she knows, they're still working on him."
JJ felt Reid's hand compress her own, and looked over to smile her relief. For however long the respite lasted, they could hold on to hope. But 'hope' wasn't what she saw on her husband's face. If anything, it looked like Emily's news had triggered an escalation of his tension. His lips were taut, his eyes in deep shadow. She didn't understand this paradoxical reaction. Didn't we just learn that William is still alive? She reached her other hand over to tug on his arm and gain his attention.
What? She looked at him, not quite able to read him as she usually could.
He was glad for that. There was a war waging inside Spencer Reid. His thoughts and emotions were in a heated battle, leaving him in a state of chaos. Whenever any clarity emerged, he almost immediately rejected it, because he was ashamed of what it meant. Even if he could have answered JJ, he wouldn't have.
As they'd traveled out to the desert, Reid had tried to prepare himself. For almost a week, he'd known it was possible his father was gone, dead at the hands of a serial killer. But it had only been a possibility. The certainty of it, now displaced by renewed uncertainty, had brought him past the crisis point. It was, he'd thought, no longer possible to reconcile with the man he'd only recently managed to forgive. It was, he'd thought, no longer possible to introduce the man to his grandchildren. It was, he'd thought, no longer possible to find a way to move forward together.
There had been freedom in that. The nearly constant dilemma of knowing William was out there, somewhere, wanting admission to his son's life, had disappeared. The pressure of needing to make a decision, to respond or not respond, had been there every day, even when they hadn't heard from William in months. Just knowing his father wanted entrance to their lives, but needed his son's permission, had been enough to create tension in Reid.
The news of his father's death had released that tension. Even as they'd driven to the scene of the supposed murder, the young profiler had felt the transition from the process of indecision to the process of closure. But now, with the news of William's survival, all of it came crushing back.
What does that say about me? I was sorry for his fate, and sorry for any suffering he'd met along the way. But I also felt a weight falling from my shoulders. Maybe, one day, I would have come to regret not letting him back into my life. But all I felt in that moment was the relief of not having to make the decision any more. I've had plenty of regrets in my life, I know how to deal with them. I could add the missed opportunity to the list, and deal with it as well. But to make a decision, every day, to exclude my father from it…..that took more out of me than I've been willing to admit. Certainly to JJ, and even to myself.
But now…he's alive! Who knows for how long, but…I should be glad, and yet, all I can think about is that now I have to decide all over again, every day. I don't know that I have it in me. But I don't want him to die, do I? God, it can't have come to that, can it? Who am I?
JJ was becoming increasingly concerned. Not that the circumstance alone wouldn't have accomplished that. But she couldn't get her husband's attention, and had the sense he was purposely withholding it from her. Reid's going deep inside was familiar. His getting lost there was not. All she could do was to hold on to him tightly, so he would have a means to find his way out.
In a little over thirty seven minutes, having encountered minimal traffic, the SUV screeched to a halt in the parking lot of the University Medical Center, and the four profilers hurried into the hospital.
Hotch flashed his badge at the triage nurse, who was obviously expecting them. She called back through the intercom, and a male nurse came out to speak with them.
"We've just sent him upstairs to ICU. He's admitted as 'James Doe'. " Seeing the puzzlement on their faces, he added, "We already had a 'John'. Been a busy couple of days."
As the nurse started back into the body of the ED, JJ called after him. "Was he conscious? Will we be able to speak to him?"
The nurse heard something in her voice, something that went beyond professional concern. He'd been in his line of work for a long time, and dealt with many the anxious family member and friend. Now he turned and walked closer again.
"Is there something we don't know about this patient?"
Reid had been silent up to now. "He's….he may be…..my father."
Now the nurse was confused. "I thought…you're not all FBI?"
Emily answered. "We are. Even FBI have parents." We weren't all hatched.
"Of course. Sorry. I just didn't understand. Well, Agent….." he looked for Reid's ID badge and found it clipped to his belt…."Agent Reid...I'm sorry to say that your father…or, the patient…..isn't conscious. He's very critical, you should understand that. I'm sorry."
He didn't have to say it aloud for the rest to hear it. For your sake, I hope he's not your father. Because he's probably already lost.
The UMC was so massive that Emily was wishing for a GPS before they finally found the ICU. Hotch tried badging his way in again, only to be stopped by a very underwhelmed charge nurse.
"Put it away, Agent. It doesn't do any good here. This is the largest ICU in Las Vegas. We catch all the major traumas, accidental and non. I see at least thirty badges a week."
"But…" Emily stopped when the nurse raised her hand.
"Relax. I'll let you in, but you'll have to wait. He literally arrived ten minutes ago, and we're still getting him settled. But…."
"We know," responded a conciliatory Emily, "he's unconscious. But we still need to see him. We may be able…." She threw a glance in Reid's direction, and received a nod in return. "….we may be able to identify him."
The nurse followed Emily's eyes, and directed her question to Reid. "Do you know him?"
"He may be my father."
At that, the nurse's demeanor changed. She was now in full caretaker mode. Placing a reassuring hand on Reid's arm, she said, "Don't you worry, honey. We're the best in the business. I'll go in and help them get him sorted, and then I'll come out and get you."
As she hurried off, Hotch turned to his youngest and took stock of the young man. Somehow, he managed to look steely and vulnerable at the same time. Hotch chose to reinforce the steel. Among them, Reid was the only one who had ever seen William in the flesh.
"We'll need a solid identification before we can move ahead with anything else. That's all you really need to accomplish right now. If he regains consciousness, Prentiss or I can interview him."
Reid nodded. "Understood."
Still studying his young genius, Hotch probed.
"Are you up to this? Morgan and Rossi have met him before. They'll be done at the scene by now, and are probably on their way. We can wait for them if we need to."
But even a rattled Reid knew time was of the essence. If they had an unsub on the loose, every minute would count.
"I'm okay. Thanks, but I'm okay."
Apart from them, JJ huddled with Emily.
"How do you think he's holding up?" asked the dark=haired profiler.
JJ didn't take her eyes off her husband. "He seems... okay…..but I know he's not. I can tell there's something wrong...I know, it sounds crazy, of course there's something wrong. But there's something else…I just can't tell.."
She was interrupted by the 'whish' of the ICU door opening. The charge nurse went straight for Reid this time.
"If you're ready, I'll bring you in."
Ready? Never. "Okay."
JJ tried to catch the nurse's eye. "Can I…."
The nurse nodded. "Two at a time. It's up to you which two."
Hotch nodded tacit approval to JJ's silent request, and she stepped forward to accompany her husband. She didn't have to touch him to know that he was trembling.
They followed the nurse into a space that tried to exude a sense of quiet, and calm. The lights were dimmed, and most of the voices were hushed. Still, there was a palpable sense of urgency in the pace of movement, the tone of the whispered exchanges. And a sense of grief exuding from those who sat at the sides of the their loved ones. Reid couldn't help but envy them. At least they know how they feel about the person in the bed.
They traversed the unit, toward a bay in the far corner, still within easy sight line of the nurses' station. A single nurse could be seen checking the patient's monitor, adjusting his IV, and checking for urine output. She turned and smiled as she saw the trio approaching.
"You must be the son. I'm Carla. I'm your father's nurse."
The charge nurse issued a note of caution. "Actually, Agent Reid hasn't identified the patient yet. That's why he's here."
"Oh, I'm sorry! I guess I didn't understand. All right, let me get some of this out of the way." She moved several tubes and wires away from the patient's upper body and, for a few seconds, removed the oxygen cannulae from his nose.
JJ had only seen William in pictures. And she knew, from sad experience, the difficulty of recognizing someone in an ICU bed, She'd barely known Reid when she'd first laid her eyes on him after he'd been shot. Now, all she could do was to pray that he would know…or not know…..the man in the bed.
Reid stood and studied the patient for a long time. So long that Carla felt a need to reinsert the oxygen. The man's skin was tented, his eyes sunken. They'd been told in the ED that the patient had been put into a medically –induced coma, to restrict his metabolic demands. That explained the slackness of his features, the complete disconnection with the world surrounding him.
It should have been impossible to know, given the circumstances. But Reid did. He knew.
"That's my father."