Chapter 22

"Is the popcorn ready?" Penelope called from her spot on the couch.

"A watched kernel never pops," Emily retorted.

"Isn't that a watched pot?"

"Same principle," Emily said, liberally adding hot butter. In her book, the more buttery the popcorn the better.

With some blatant nudging from Penelope, the two friends resumed their girl's night out shortly after Emily got out of prison. They were mostly nights in because her parole prohibited the entering of any drinking establishment and took the fun out of partying to the wee hours. Instead, they alternated between apartments for dinner or movie nights, though of late it seemed to Emily they were all at her place. She was pretty sure it was because Penelope was in love with Sergio.

When they first met, Penelope squealed in delight and went to hug him. Sergio's eyes grew wide at the prospect of being smothered and fled to the safety of his hidey-hole under Emily's bed. Now they were the best of friends because the blonde analyst started carrying kitty treats in her bulging purse. Emily tried to no avail to nip that habit in the bud, not wanting him to get fat and coming home to find him unhappily stuck halfway through the cat door.

"Penelope, please stop feeding him," Emily sighed when she returned to the living room and saw her sneaking him treats.

"He's too skinny. You're not feeding him enough."

"He's the perfect size and no I'm not."

"Okay," she agreed, giving him two more before putting the treat bag away.

"And no popcorn," Emily added, setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

"You're a horrible kitty mom."

"Someone has to. Otherwise, he'll be so fat his paws wouldn't touch the floor and he would have to roll to get anywhere."

Penelope chuckled at the image as she helped herself to a handful of popcorn. Sergio sensing he had been somehow insulted, stalked off to his cat tree and curled up on the top platform, essentially giving his mistress the cold shoulder.

"Em, what happened to your crime boards? I noticed they were missing when I went to use the bathroom."

Emily's eyes drifted back to her office that now looked so bare without them. She had worked so hard and jumped through hoops to get the information that proved to be worthless for her investigation.

Emily stared at the piece of paper in her hand with a sense of trepidation. She and Penelope were working diligently on figuring out if a past case was connected to her situation, but that wouldn't cover the whole expanse of her career. If there was someone from a past case that actively worked against her to frame her, Emily wanted to know. But the BAU was only a fraction of it, a big fraction, but not the whole picture.

There were multiple times where she considered breaking her oath, breaking the seal of confidentiality that surrounded those few years of her life, but she couldn't risk it. She couldn't risk involving Penelope in any of that and putting her in jeopardy.

No, the only way she was going to get answers was by making that dreaded call.

She had been asking for a lot of help lately. She didn't have much choice is she wanted to clear her name, but this felt different. She didn't even want to look back at that point of her life.

Still, the need for answers won out.

Reluctantly, she snatched up her phone and punched in the numbers from the piece of paper. Her finger lingered on the call button as she mustered up the courage. Sighing, she pressed it and waited.

"Easter," he answered in that sometimes-infuriating English accent.

"Clyde," Emily responded.

"Emily Prentiss, back from the dead."

"Back from somewhere."

"How are you?"

"I'm…alright. How are you, Clyde?"

"I'm right and well," he responded, "but I'm sure that's not why you phoned. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I…I need your help."

"That's a first."

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Clyde," she scolded.

"Let me bask in the glory for just a moment, Emily."

She rolled her eyes heavenward, "Clyde…"

"Yes, fine. What do you need?"

Emily divulged everything, giving him all the details of her life, her incarceration, and her mission now. As she talked, she feared how he might react, that he might think she was trying to shirk accepting responsibility or just looking for something to make her feel better like others have, but that wasn't what she got.

"You have your team looking into the cases your worked on there?"

She hedged. "I have the best person I know working on it. She can find anything."

"And now you need me."

She could practically hear him smirking through the phone. She knew he was. "Don't be smug, Clyde."

"I'm always smug."

Emily rolled her eyes again. "Well, keep it together. I need you to access all the files for the cases we worked."

"What's in it for me?"

"My undying gratitude."

"What a treat," he teased.

"Please, Clyde. I'm desperate. Are you going to help me or not?"

"Of course, Love. You know I just like to make you work for it."

She felt her temper rising and tried to keep it out of her voice. "I went to prison for something I didn't do, and now I'm trying to prove my innocence with, literally, one person on my side. Isn't that enough?"

"Why must you kill all my fun?" he joked before turning serious. "Tell me what you need and I'll see what I can do."

Her irritation faded. "Thank you."

"I've had your back before. You've had mine. This is what we do."

Emily smiled. He wasn't wrong. It was what they were trained to do, but, more than that, behind his front, he was a decent guy.

"Here's what we think so far," Emily began, filling him in on everything she knew, what she suspected, and what she needed from him. Perhaps, if nothing else, she had a fresh pair of eyes and a decent brain to help out.

"I'll work on this as soon as I get back to London. I'll call you with whatever I find."

"Thanks again, Clyde."

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll repay the favor someday."

"Let's hope not."

"Speak soon, Love."

"Bye, Clyde."

Phone down, Emily sighed in relief. It was only a step toward figuring things out, but at least it was progress. With Clyde opening that door, they had complete access to her case history, If the UnSub was in there, they'd find him.

/

Emily was getting worried. Clyde had said he would call when he had the information, but it has been over two weeks and not a peep out of him.

I should have known better, she silently berated herself as she searched for the case files one of the lawyers had requested. I should have known better that he would dangle me along, making me believe that he genuinely wanted to help and then renege on the deal. One thing Clyde greatly enjoyed was playing mind games and he didn't care if the players were suspects or his own operatives. Well if he really didn't want to help, she would have to try someone else, maybe Tsia or Sean.

Her stewing was interrupted by the receptionist entering and announcing she had a package.

"A package? For me?" Emily asked in surprise. She was a lowly records clerk so she never receives mail, let alone a package.

"Yup," the young girl replied.

Emily took the small package and studied the front, instantly noticing that it was lacking a return address and shipping label. "Who dropped this off?"

"Some guy with a sexy British accent. He called me Love." She actually giggled.

Clyde! Emily knew it would be a waste of her time to go looking for him. By the time she reached the sidewalk, he would have been long gone, melting into the background like a shadow. Another thought occurred to her as she ripped open the package an dumped a small white box tied up with a neat red bow. How the hell did he know where she worked? She certainly hadn't told him and he couldn't have asked Dave or Penelope because they didn't know him from Adam. Both were protective of her, like a Mama and Papa bear protecting their precious cub.

"What is it? Is it from your boyfriend?"

Emily remained silent, arching an eyebrow and giving the girl a painted stare. The receptionist got the hint and beat a hasty retreat to her desk in the lobby.

Once alone, she carefully untied the bow and raised the lid, peeking inside. Nestled in the tissue was a thumb drive and it probably contained all the cases she had worked on while she was assigned to Interpol in her CIA days. Unfortunately, she wouldn't know for sure until she got home from work. For safekeeping, she tucked the drive in her pants pocket, threw away the rest and picked up her phone.

"How did you know where I worked?" she texted. "I never told you that."

His reply was prompt. "I always keep track of my former assets."

That made Emily pause. Did that mean that Clyde had known all this time that she had been in prison and he was stringing her along for the fun of it? If he did, he was playing one of his mind games with her. Normally this would annoy the hell out of her, but times were different and he had kept his promise after all.

So, she let his comment slip by and texted him a simple, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Love. If you need more than that, just send me a text."

"I will."

"Just remember you owe me a big favor and I will collect. Maybe when I'm in town again you can repay me with a home cooked meal. None of that prison grub you had to eat, mind you. A traditional Sunday roast with roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roasted potatoes and runner beans."

"I'll get right on it, "she quipped.

"And a nice foot rub."

"In your dreams, Clyde."

He texted laughed. "You always are. Au revoir, Mon amie."

"Au revoir and thank you."

"Always."

Emily put down her phone and put her hand in her pocket, fingering the thumb drive. She was dying to know what Clyde had downloaded and couldn't wait for the work day to end. Of course, she knew that the desire would make the hours drag and the day seem so much longer, but she couldn't help it. Clearing her name was the only thing important to her.

As predicted, it took forever for her work shift to end, the rides home on the subway and bus took even longer. Emily was almost chomping at the bit when she got home, dumping her bag and coat on the couch and making a beeline for her office. Inserting the drive into the laptop, she was delighted that Clyde hadn't let her down. All the original cases she had worked on were there, including updates on the current status of those convicted. Her suspect pool had gotten a whole lot bigger and it was going to take some time to weed through it all. Grabbing a can of Coke from the fridge, Emily opened the first case and began reading.

"I took them down."

"Why?"

Emily let out a sigh as she plopped on the couch and ran a hand through her hair. "I've come to the sad conclusion that the person who framed me isn't up there."

Penelope was a little at a loss of words by the admittance. "But…but you worked so hard on it. So did I."

"I know and I appreciate it. It felt good to have someone in my corner."

"Maybe we missed a minor player."

"We didn't. Whoever it is, they aren't from my past. I wasted almost six years chasing a dead end."

"That would mean…"

"That I was a victim of opportunity. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time or I resembled someone the UnSub hated." Emily shook her head. "Either way makes it a whole lot harder to find my framer."

Penelope didn't like how dejected her friend looked. The Emily Prentiss she knew wasn't a victim. "Tell me what to do," she said, whipping out her phone and opening the notes app.

Emily couldn't help but smile. The technical analyst may have an eclectic taste in clothing that many may find eye numbing, but she was a kind and devoted woman who would do anything to help a friend in trouble.

"We're going to have to start at the very beginning by retracing all my steps from the time I started to feel sick. That's going to be hard since so much time has passed and my memory may be fuzzy due to whatever drug I was given."

The blonde made a note to check what drugs metabolized quickly in the body since the tox screen done on Emily on the night of her accident showed nothing but a high alcohol limit in her system. "I can do one of my things and get a hold up your old bank and credit card statements. They would show where you were spending your money."

"Great. Just do it on your own time okay, Pen? I don't want you to lose your job because of me."

"Roger that."

Emily leaned back and stared at the ceiling thinking. "The frame up against me was pretty sophisticated so that would mean they have done this before," she eventually said.

"Agreed. It takes time for one to learn their craft, even the creepy ones."

"Right. They need to find out what works and what doesn't and then iron out any kinks. Could you search the court records for DC and the surrounding areas for similar mo's?"

"You know how I love a good spelunking. How far do you want me to go back?"

"I would say at least ten years." Penelope nodded as she entered it into her notes. "And while you are doing that, I can check the files at work. Afterall, I am the records clerk," Emily said with a grin.

"That you are."

"Maybe I'll get lucky and find one."

Penelope chewed her lip thoughtfully. "What if some of the previous victims never had their day before a judge. A lot of things get resolved out of court."

"Good point. Check the police records for any arrests where the person is claiming their innocence."

"Em, most drunk drivers claim they are innocent," the blonde had to point out.

"True, but we're looking for people with no previous arrests for drunk driving. People like me."

"That's going to be like hunting for the proverbial needle in the haystack. I can't even guess how many that will be."

Emily gave the technical analyst an encouraging pat on the knee. "I know, but I also know you. You thrive on these kinds of searches. Once you get them, we'll be able to week them down to a manageable size."

"It'd be easier and faster if we had another set of eyes on things to help."

Emily gave her a wary look. "And who could we possibly ask to do that?'

"There's always Reid," she suggested.

"He's barely part of the team, Pen. We just got him on our side and we have him looking at my old cases."

"But we know who we are looking for isn't there. It's wasting resources."

"Or he'll find something I missed and solve everything. He's exactly where he needs to be," she said with more force than she had intended.

Penelope studied her friend. "You sound angry."

"I'm not."

"You're not happy."

Emily let out a frustrated huff. "Pen…I love you and I appreciate everything you're doing for me, but not everyone is you. People I loved and trusted abandoned me for something I didn't even do."

"Like Reid…"

Yes, like Reid. So, he's going to continue to do his thing and we're doing ours. That's where things are."

"Okay," Penelope conceded, "but don't let your disappointment in Reid cloud your judgment. There may come a time when we need to utilize those brilliant brain cells of his."

"I highly doubt it will ever come to that."

"Never say never."

"Uh huh."

The blonde analyst let the subject of Reid drop. If she kept at it, Emily would only dig her heels in deeper and not use Reid at all. Sometimes her friend could be so stubborn and set in her ways. Unfortunately, the five and a half years stint in prison only made it worse. Still, she loved Emily dearly and would anything to help her.

"Okay, this is a good start," she said, adding a few final notes in her phone. "I'll get started on it when I get home."

"Tomorrow, Pen. A few more hours won't make any difference."

"Alright," she paused, a thought occurring to her. "Do you think they are still doing it?"

Emily mulled it over for a moment before answering. "I would say yes. Successfully sending someone to prison gave them the ultimate high and wanting to keep feeling it, they would have to keep doing it. Unfortunately, the following highs are never as good as the first."

"Sort of like an adrenaline junkie?"

"Similar. I'm sure there are other reasons to why they are doing it and we'll find out more when we catch them."

That we will. Anything else you need me to do?"

"Not at this moment. Let's see what your searches turn up first. From there we can narrow the parameters and willow down the list."

"Okay," Penelope agreed, putting down her phone, but not before opening a fishing app for Sergio. Within in minutes, the cat was hunkered down watching the fish swim lazily from one end of the screen to the other. "Now that the work stuff is done, let's get to the juicy part of the night."

"The juicy part?"

"Your second do over with your sexy construction worker."

"Emily rolled her eyes. "Pen, he isn't my sexy construction worker."

"Is he sexy?"

"Well…"

"And a construction worker?"

"Not technically."

"I'll take them as yeses so that makes him a sexy construction worker."

"Whatever."

"So how did it go?"

"It went well," Emily admitted.

The date did go well. As promised, Dan had called ahead to se the time when he was picking her up. For the movie he chose a thriller, figuring it was a happy middle between totally geeking out with a scifi epic and a chick flick. Emily was fine with whatever he picked because she was woefully out of date when it came to the current crop of movies. The prison had movie nights, but they kept it strictly PG, most of the movies dating from the Golden Age of Hollywood to the 70's. During the long years of her incarceration, she lost track of how many times they showed "Bedknobs and Broomsticks".

The one thing she did miss while inside watching those mind-numbing movies was the popcorn with the butter that was so bad for you, but tasted so good. She ordered the largest tub possible while mentally cringing at its exorbitant price and kept it all to herself. By the end of the movie, there was nothing let except for the unpopped kernels. Dan found it humorous and offered to get her a second one since it came with a free refill. Emily pretended to give it some serious thought before politely declining.

Afterwards, they went for a leisure walk around the local neighborhood. They discussed the movie for a bit before moving on to other subjects. Dan asked more questions about her past life as an FBI agent an she inquired how he got into construction and home improvement.

"And then he brought me home."

"That's it?"

Emily knew her friend was probing for something juicy and decided to give it to her. "No. At the door I jumped him and we spent the rest of the night making mad, passionate love. Afterall, through no choice of my own, I've been celibate for the last five and a half years."

Penelope's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Seriously?" she breathed.

Emily managed to keep a straight face for a whole minute before breaking out into a grin while shaking her head. "No. I may be bold in a lot of things, but not in that."

Penelope leaned over and swatted her on the arm. "That wasn't nice."

"It wasn't, but it was fun."

The blonde analyst glared at her for a minute longer before breaking out in a beaming smile. "All is forgiven. Please tell me that you're going to see him again."

"I am. We're going out next Monday." Emily couldn't help blushing slightly when she said it. Going out on a date made her feel normal again, a feeling she hadn't felt for a long time.

"You really like him," Penelope breathed in awe. "Maybe he's the one. Your soulmate. The one who's going to sweep you off your feet into wedded bliss."

"Uh, Pen, lets not put the cart before the horse. It's only the second date."

"Technically it's the third."

"Whatever."

Emily decided to change the subject before Penelope started planning the wedding to a man she barely knew. She picked up the bowl of popcorn and shoved it in the analyst's hand.

"Let's get to the movie before the butter congeals on the popcorn. What are we watching?"

"An Officer and a Gentleman."

Emily stifled a groan. It was going to be a long night.