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Reid POV

Garcia had just informed us that the person who Morgan and I needed to investigate was Edward Adams, and we needed to be on our way to him home as soon as possible. Morgan had snatched the keys up quickly, and we were on the road within minutes. The car ride was far too quiet and for once, I couldn't force myself to actually engage in conversation with Morgan who noticed, but decided, thankfully, to not comment on it.

We pulled into the fairly suburban cul-de-sac where Adams was housed, and as we pulled up onto the curb outside his home and even from the car, I could see that he had a basement area - a blue shuttered entrance on the left side of the house, and chalked it up in my mental list of 'reasons why he could be the unsub'. Morgan and I ambled over to the front door, and he did the honour of knocking, rather loudly, if I do say so myself.

A 40-something year old, well-built, dark haired man answered the door, a little sweaty around the neck and hairline and his pupils were blown wide, even though his eyes were almost obsidian themselves. His dress shirt was unbuttoned and he adorned a white vest underneath and a pair of dark coloured slacks and was barefoot. There was a protruding vein in the side of his head, and it pulsated in time with the clenching of his jaw.

It was becoming more and more likely that this guy had something to hide - not necessarily that he's Charlotte's kidnapper, but he's hiding something. I was determined to find out what he was keeping from us.

He coughed lightly, and asked, haughtily, "Excuse me, can I help either of you two?"

Morgan took the offence and he responded, automatically, "Mr Adams, right?" and at the other man's nod, he continued, "Well, we're here to ask you some questions in relation to the kidnapping of a Charlotte Lewis. Can we come in?"

Adams shook his head, quickly, and I rolled my eyes, inconspicuously, and pulled the warrant out of my jacket pocket, and folded it out, handed it to him and walked in without a backwards glance. I took in the surroundings, and wasn't really surprised with the level of normalcy that greeted me. There was one living room to the left of the front door and the dining room on the immediate right. Adams lead Morgan and I into the living room and we sat down in the singlet sofas.

Morgan began with the usual, "What was your relationship with Detective Lewis?"

Adams stiffened slightly, and rubbed the back of his neck, and awkwardly replied, "She was.. She was the kid of the man who ruined my life."

I cut in before Morgan could respond, and I pushed him, a little harder than necessary, "Could you explain what you mean?"

He glared at me, and I could feel the iciness in his gaze, and he seethed, "The son of bitch killed my daughter," and he clenched his fists before continuing, "So forgive me if I'm a little touchy."

Morgan touched my forearm in warning, and I nodded, minutely, understanding that I was taking my frustrations over not being able to find Charlotte on this man. He might not be our unsub, there were a list a mile long of names and faces that we havent seen before, but all held equal animosity against Angelis. I shouldn't be so hard on him, he could be completely innocent.

Countless streams of information ran through my mind at breakneck speed, and I felt the headache setting in on my mind. I needed to relax somehow; the scratching urge for Dilaudid clawed at my psyche for a mere moment before I forced it down. Morgan took over once more, and I remained silent for the rest of the so called interview, too many thoughts were swarming around in my head. I knew there was something that we were missing - no there was something I hadmissed, and it was going to send me insane.

In the midst of my internal meltdown, I completely zoned out of the exchange between Morgan and Adams, so I was a bit more than surprised when I felt Morgan stand up and tap me on the shoulder, indicating that I should do the same. He shook Adams' hand, and I did the same, noting the slight jump in his pulse as our palms connected - almost as if he were relieved of something, and then, we were on our way out.

Morgan took his time in ripping me a new one, reminding me that he was only a potential suspect and all that jazz, and I did the smart thing in keeping quiet, instead of responding and making it worse on myself. I might be a genius but I was still young, and he never missed a chance in making me remember that. Jack off.

He ruffled my hair a little and I scowled up at him, with scorn in my frown as he said, "Look, Kid, it's not your fault that Lewis is missing. We're all trying out hardest to find her, so just relax and do your job, m'kay, Pretty Boy?"

I nodded, faintly, and went about stepping into the car when I heard a heavy, muted sound coming from Adams' house. Well, I thought I heard something as when I turned to look at it, I didn't see anything immediately strange. However, it was only why I looked at the top window is when I saw a trail of blood, smudged in the window screen, in the shape of the side of someone's fist. Too large to be a child, but small enough to be considered feminine.

I leaned into the car and clapped Derek on the shoulder, and shouted, "Morgan, look!"

He glanced out of the car window on his side and followed my hands direction, and as the pieces clicked in his head, he was out of the car and sprinting his way up the pathway once more, with me a smidgen behind me. Morgan slammed on the front door with the palm of his hand and shouted, "Edward Adams, we're the FBI, open the door!"

Although we both knew he wouldn't, we had to alert him anyway, which I thought was completely redundant however it was the law, so we had to follow the rules. Morgan went about booting the door open, and running through the foyer and up the stairs. I checked out the kitchen and the living and dining rooms just to be sure that they were cleared before I joined him upstairs, and as he threw open the door of the nearest room, there was a sight that I only wished I would have been able to burn from my memory.

A battered, bloodied and bruised Charlotte was being held by her hair and forced to kneel on the floor with a handgun being pressed into her chest plate, directly above her heart. I tried to ignore her lack of clothing out of respect, however the incisions and cuts that had been made all over her back and, I assumed, her front were too obvious for me to ignore. I hadn't seen her face, yet I could only picture how grotesque an image it would play in reality.

Morgan had his weapon cocked and pointed directly at Adams' head, and I did the same, prepared to end this bastard sorry existence in an instant. Morgan roared in a firm and resolute voice, "Put the gun down, and slowly put it to the floor, Adams. It's over, there's no way out of this."

Adams flinched but in his eyes, I could see that he knew it to be true. There truly was no way out of this. To try and make Adams understand how dire his situation it, I added on, "You either leave here in handcuffs or a body bag, how do you want it?"

Morgan glanced at me, if only for a moment before turning his attention straight back at his target. Adams seemed to fault for a second and he released Charlotte, only for her body to go lax and collapse, colliding with the floor harshly, causing both Derek and I to flinch and divert attention slightly. I lowered my weapon, only an inch, and he seemed to take this as some kind of gauge and he attacked. Well.. I say attacked, I really mean he aimed his gun in my general direction and before he was even able to cock it, Derek shot him. Straight between his eyes, and killing him instantly. I didn't give his corpse much thought as I ran directly to Charlotte's side, and turned her over, wincing at the state her face and body were in.

I couldn't note how many incisions were made exactly as her body had been matted with dried blood, presumably her own, however they were in the hundreds. Some were small and shallow, whereas others were deep, long gashes that had been left to bleed for some time. There was a strong scent of vodka, and I saw the red, irritated skin around a few of the cuts. He had been pouring alcohol on her wounds after doing them - the son of a bitch!

Her eyes were closed, and I placed two fingers against her neck, searching for a pulse. There was a tense few moments of silence on my end, but I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt a slow, yet very real pulse beneath my fingertips. I pulled out my phone, and held down the number 3, automatically dialling Hotch's cell.

He answered on the second ring, and quickly asked, "You found her?"

I hastily replied, "Yes, we're at the Adam's residence. 436 Verona Way, she needs an ambulance.. She's in a bad way, Hotch, like, really bad. Send someone quickly."

He agreed and hung up the phone, and I seated it in my back pocket. Morgan went to pick her up into his arms, however I cut in and half-shouted, "No! She hit her head, she could be concussed, or worse. Leave her where she is until the ambulance comes. "

He nodded, and went about calling in the status of the recently deceased and asking for some kind of help removing his body from the premises. In mere moments, I could hear the sirens of the oncoming ambulances and I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

Without fully understanding why, I placed my forehead against hers, and whispered, "You're going to be okay, Charlotte, can you hear them? Stay here, stay with me. You'll be fine."