"Pizza you want and pizza you shall have," Rossi declared cheerfully later that morning after Hotch had given him an account of his morning visit with Laurel and Paige.
"Let me make a phone call and I will have the best pizza maker in Chicago working on it for you," he continued. "I know people!"
"I'm not questioning that, Dave," Hotch replied. "I just don't want to go overboard on this. Besides, we still have the case to solve."
"Not to worry, My Man," Morgan beamed at him. "The greatest mind in the business," he nodded towards Reid, "Just came up with a new angle for us to explore. And, if he is right, we should have this guy rounded up by lunchtime."
"Or slightly thereafter," Blake was being realistic.
"How are Laurel and Paige?" JJ asked. "Paige has got to be pretty big by now."
"They are both doing fine," Hotch confirmed. "And, hopefully, you will all get a chance to see them again soon."
"Well, if you are planning on visiting them again this evening, maybe we had better get to work wrapping up this case," Reid commented as he walked over to the evidence boards.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"So, it turned out that the unsub was deathly afraid of water," Hotch explained to Laurel that evening as he stood watching her gather up plates, glasses, napkins, and silverware. "And, he was under the impression that he was saving the children from drowning."
"You managed to stop him?" Laurel questioned.
"Fortunately, yes," Hotch told her. "And, it appears that all the children he had gathered up are in good health and anxious to be returned to their parents." He looked nervously towards the door to the small kitchen.
"Paige is in the bedroom doing her homework," Laurel assured him. "Fortunately, she doesn't have much of a recollection of what happened to us. To her and her school I'm just another paranoid parent."
"That's good," Hotch commented. "An experience like that could easily damage someone for life."
"This should do it," Laurel told him, indicating the stacks of utensils. "Why don't you take the plates and silverware into the dining area, and I'll follow with the glasses and napkins? The pizza is already on the table."
"Paige, Dinner!" she called out. "And be sure to wash your hands first."
As they waited for Paige to join them, Hotch looked around the small living-dining room of the one bedroom apartment. It was clean and neat, but the furniture clearly showed signs of wear and the television was definitely not state-of-the-art. He doubted whether it even had a remote.
"You were going to tell me how you ended up in Chicago," he reminded Laurel.
"Yes, I was," Laurel replied as she handed him a slice of the pizza. "So, here goes – "
"As you will remember, I was working at the Sleepaway Inn and Suites near the Intercontinental Airport in Houston," she began. "One morning, when I was manning the breakfast bar, I saw a man come in wearing the most horrible tie I had ever seen. I just looked at him and blurted out, 'You're not wearing that to your appointment, are you?' "
"He laughed and told me that his wife didn't like the tie either. And then, after he had finished eating, he went back up to his room and returned holding two other ties. He asked me which one I liked and I picked one out for him. As it turned out, his first stop that morning was a cold call at a company he had been trying to get into for several months. And, he not only got in that morning but he managed to convince them to use his services. And, then, at his second appointment of the day, he also made a sizeable sale. According to him, it was all because I had picked out his tie that morning."
"You do have good taste," Hotch told her with a smile.
"What kind of services was he providing?" he asked curiously.
"He and his wife ran an insurance brokerage," Laurel explained. "A very hands-on operation. After that initial meeting, I met both of them on several occasions when they were in town and staying with us. They were really nice, and I made it a point to visit with them while they ate breakfast. When they offered me a job at their office here in Chicago, I took it."
"Things didn't work out?" Hotch guessed.
"Things worked out great," Laurel corrected him. "I really liked the job, the pay was excellent, and they treated me like I was somebody. Paige and I were doing just fine. And then - "
"Mr. George died," Paige said sadly.
"That's right," Laurel agreed. "He suffered a stroke in the middle of the night and that was it. Afterwards, his wife decided to close the agency. I was lucky. The local claims center for one of the insurance companies we represented is close to Paige's school and they offered me a job. The pay isn't nearly as good, but we manage."
"So, you are working two jobs?" Hotch clarified.
"Three, actually," Laurel told him. "I also work weekends in the housekeeping department at a hotel not too far from here. Skating is expensive with ice time and coaches fees and skates and all, so every little bit helps."
Hotch looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before changing the subject. Later that evening, on his way back to his hotel, he pulled out his cell phone and pushed a well-used speed dial button.
"Garcia," he spoke into the phone. "I know it is late, but first thing tomorrow morning I need you to look into something for me – "