Chapter 11
Twenty-three year old Lorelei Gaines was soft spoken as she sat across her coffee table from the two FBI agents; after going to the local police station, Rossi and Prentiss had gone to her home.
"I had gone to a club with some friends, was heading to my car, that's all I remember until I woke up in the motel room."
Lorelei reached for her cup of tea, taking a slow sip, then returning it to the table, her hand slightly shaking.
Prentiss nodded leaning forward in her chair, holding her anger in check.
The police had taken too long to process the blood found at the motel, stating the motel was a hangout for prostitutes and drug dealers and that the victim's claim of being abducted and tied up was probably a last minute change of mind over some kinky sex play or her wanting to get back at an ex or hookup for playing too rough.
Traumatized and getting no help by the police, Lorelei had left town without a word to anyone, going so off the grid not even Garcia was able to locate her.
"I just…I just needed to get away from everything for a while."
She had finally returned to town and had agreed to talk about what happened.
"The men who took you…" Prentiss pulled out a photo of Ezral resting it on the table in front of the quiet woman. "Was he one of them?"
Lorelei leaned forward peering at the photo.
"I told the police, one of them was wearing a plaid shirt and a baseball cap pulled down low, I didn't...I didn't get a clear look at his face."
She leaned back closing her eyes and took a slow deep breath.
"I thought I was going to die."
"It's okay, you're doing a good job." smiled Prentiss. "The other man, you said you saw his face clearly."
"Well, yes. He was leaning right over me."
Rossi pulled out a photo of Hotch and placed it on the coffee table.
He gave a quick side glance to Prentiss as they both inwardly held their breaths.
"Was this the man?"
Lorelei's eyes widened at the photo, as she curled her legs under her on the couch.
"Yes...yes...that's him!"
Rossi heard Prentiss quietly gasp, his own heart thundering in his chest.
"You're sure." he asked gently,
Lorelei turned to Rossi, "He was practically on top of me. I'm sure."
"He was on top of you?" Prentiss frowned trying to picture the scenario; Hotch would never hurt a woman.
Lorelei nodded, "Then the other man came back; the one in the cap. He got so angry and started to attack him." she motioned towards the photo of Hotch.
"While they were fighting I was able to escape."
"The man in the cap, why did he get angry?" asked Rossi; hope and worry for Hotch's well-being clashing in his mind.
Lorelei slowly unfurled her legs and sat up straight, picking up Hotch's photo and staring at it, a look of fear and awe meshing together on her face.
A beat, then she turned the photo towards Rossi and Prentiss and smiled.
"Because he was trying to untie me."
The team was ecstatic; they finally had their first proof in months that Hotch was alive! Or at least had been, up to a few weeks before. This news renewed their purpose and give them energy to continue their search.
"One thing I don't get; if Hotch was in the motel room alone with the woman, why didn't he use the phone to call for help before Ezral returned?" asked Morgan, as the team sat around the meeting room table.
"Not to play devil's advocate, but are we sure the other man was Ezral? The witness couldn't identify him." stated Prentiss. "The front desk clerk at the motel couldn't even identify him, or Hotch!"
They had gone to the motel room with a small forensics team who combed the room in search of any evidence; unfortunately the room had been cleaned and had several more occupants over the following weeks, so no evidence was found of his presence.
"It was him." assured Rossi. "Maybe Ezral threatened to hurt her, maybe Hotch was also tied up and just freed himself and was freeing her and ran out of time when Ezral returned."
"It's possible, but why take the chance of bringing Hotch to the motel in the first place?" inquired Reid. "Though it was off the beaten track, there were still other guests in the motel at the time."
"Maybe Ezral liked the thrill, wanted to taunt Hotch with the proximity of potential rescue. Maybe he wanted to force Hotch to watch or wanted to force Hotch to participate." said Morgan.
"But Hotch would never hurt a woman!" said JJ adamantly.
"I don't know if we can be sure about that anymore."
The team turned as one to the door of the room where Garcia stood a look of devastation on her face.
"Garcia, what do you mean by that?" asked Morgan.
"I'm...I'm sorry to interrupt, but…" she quickly stepped into the room taking hold of the remote for the room's large monitor. "There's something you should see. I received an email this morning with photo attachments."
"Sent by whom?"asked Rossi.
"It...I...it was from Ezral, he actually signed it...even added a happy face...a happy face! The nerve of..."
"What were the photos of?" asked Morgan, cutting her off.
"I…" Garcia shook her head and pressed a button on the remote, stepping back for the others to see.
"Hotch. The photos are of Hotch. He's...they're..." Garcia let out a sob then handed the remote to JJ and turned and left the room.
Mason slowly drove back to the house parking the truck in back and sat there for a moment relishing everything that had happened.
After the events in the parking lot, after the bartender who had put up a good fight but was no match for the strength of Hotchner or himself, they had sliced their way through two more women just days later.
The agent's switch after the debacle in the motel room was amazing; Mr. Serious Agent man was now an accomplice in several murders.
Mason had taken pictures of Hotchner in wonderfully criminal poses, tying up the women, dragging one toward her doom, arm raised high over one woman, club in hand...the pictures were somewhat grainy, the prepaid phone he had used to take them not the best quality, but it didn't matter; for those who were curious, he was sure the faces of Hotch and the women could be made clear. Once he had enough pictures, he had driven a town over in the truck leaving a questioning agent behind...
Why can't I come with you, Mason?
... and had with a little internet digging found the BAU's I.T handler's email address and had sent her and the town's local news station the photos. In the body of the emails a message on how easy it was for the mighty to succumb to darkness. He opted to send the emails far enough from home, just in case Garcia could back trace where the email originated from. He was narrowing the trail for Hotchner's team...a breadcrumb leading them closer to the house, to their beloved leader.
Mason smiled to himself, he had planned to kill the agent, but decided he could do that anytime; for now, this was so much better. The man was now culpable, was just as bad as many of the people he had put in prison. Mr. Special Agent Hotchner thought he was above it all, above the criminals he put away. Well now he could add another name to his title...
Accomplice.
The last woman had tried to escape and Hotchner had ran after her catching her and dragging her back to her doom. After secretly taking a few photos of that moment,Mason had patted the agent on the back.
Good job, brother!
By now the town's media and Hotchner's team would have seen the photos, would realize that the great BAU leader was really altogether not so good.
Mason could see the future, Hotchner losing his job, prison time, his reputation shot to hell forever...the smug look on his face a distant memory.
It was time for him to finish this and move on leaving the agent to the hell awaiting him.
After getting rid of the phone and buying another pre-paid one from a guy behind a counter who barely looked up from his hot rod magazine, he spent the next few hours biding his time in town, listening for any breaking news on his radio and waiting to see if the BAU would show their face following the electronic trail the email had left. Hours later he smiled satisfied his time wasn't wasted as he spotted Hotchner's team making their way out of the local Sheriff's office. With a soft snort and a smirk, Mason pulled away from where he had been parked down the street and headed home.
An hour later, he sat in the cab of the truck, looking through the windshield at the house. He had taken a picture of it with his new phone and had added it as an attachment to an email he sent with directions to the house and a message to Hotchner's team.
Come alone or Finders Keepers.
He thought about all the evidence the FBI would find once they got there. Thought of the shallow graves behind the house that he had the agent dig, burying the blood and bones of their victims. Thought of the confused smile on the agent's face each time he would pat the last bit of dirt on the graves with his shovel and Mason would pat him on the back praising him.
Mason left his phone on the passenger seat of the truck then got out and headed inside, he found Hotch asleep on the couch; it was finally time to put an end to the play.
"Cullen?" he whispered, standing over the sleeping man.
Hotch twitched in his sleep…
Promise me you'll tell him how we met…
How you used to make me laugh…
"No...no..." groaned Hotch softly.
Please don't...don't hurt me…!
Cullen, Hold. IT. Down!
"Cullen!" Mason shook him by the arm, his tone, quick; the result, what he wanted...
Hotch's eyes snapped open.
"The BAU, they found us, they're coming!" Mason hissed.
Hotch gasped, sitting up.
He wouldn't be taken again!
"No!" he growled.
-TBC-