Read my Lips
Chapter 20
The navigation system in the rental car only got them to the general vicinity of the Phillipson's family property. Morgan had to slow the SUV down and poke his head out the window to check the numbers on the mailboxes before they were sure they found the right address. If they were just driving past, the narrow opening in the foliage wouldn't have caught their attention. There were tufts of grass sprouting up through the long winding gravel driveway. And in a few spots, low hanging tree branches brushed against the top of the vehicle. Given how neglected the driveway was, Spencer was surprised when the treeline finally opened up to reveal a picturesque farmhouse surrounded by trimmed bushes and small colorful flower gardens.
From his vantage point, he could see several outbuildings besides the house. A few horses were grazing outside a large crisply painted red barn. And further out, there were at least two more smaller barns, though the paint on those was faded to something closer to a brownish maroon. From the aerial maps Garcia sent him on the way over, Spencer knew the property spanned close to a hundred acres. And there were several more structures that were too far away to be visible from the main driveway. Looking at the ones he could see, Spencer couldn't help but wonder if Eliana was being held somewhere close by. He had to fight the urge to take off immediately for the closest barn and start searching for her. Being an FBI agent came with a certain amount of privilege and authority. But it also came with its own set of limitations. And currently, those stated that he didn't have the right to search this property. Eliana's ex Riley was from the area and his arrival home coincided with the disappearance of Casanova's first victim. But that was all circumstantial. They really had no real evidence whatsoever to connect him with the missing women.
"You got this?," Derek asked, casting a sideways glance in his direction. Spencer nodded. He wasn't sure if he had full control over himself. But waiting behind in the car would be the worst kind of torture.
"Maybe I should go to the door with him?," JJ suggested. The look she exchanged with Derek said more than her tone. They were in the south. And FBI or not, he was an armed black man. Derek nodded his agreement, leaning against the outside of the car as JJ and Reid headed up onto the house's large wraparound porch. The porch featured two wooden swings. And a set of rocking chairs. It was like a scene from a movie. And when JJ knocked, the woman that answered the door was exactly what Spencer would have pictured the owner of the house looking like in his mind. Right down to her gingham checkered house dress and the way her gray streaked blonde hair was pinned up into a soft bun at the base of her neck.
"Hello," JJ said, flipping open her badge and displaying it for the woman in the white lace apron. JJ introduced herself with a smile and used a soft tone to let the woman know they were looking for her eldest son. Spencer watched the woman's reaction closely. And she was either completely shocked as to why the FBI might be looking for her son or she was the best actress on the planet. If her son was Casanova, his mother clearly wasn't aware of his extracurricular activities.
In the spirit of true southern hospitality, the woman ushered them into her home even before she asked why they were looking for her son. Her tone conveyed more concern than nervousness. And her hand moved to toy with the small gold cross that was hanging from a delicate chain around her neck.
"Nothing bad happened to my Riley, did it?," she asked. JJ shook her head.
"We think he might have some information about a missing person's case," she explained. Even if that wasn't true, JJ would have given the same explanation. It was their standard line when they were trying to get information from a suspect's family member.
"A missing person?," she repeated. "Oh, how terrible." She motioned for them to follow her down her hallway. Inevitably, it would lead to either her sitting room or her kitchen where a glass of cold sweat tea would be waiting for them. "I'm sorry Riley's not home. He went up north to visit his fiance."
"Fiance?," JJ asked. She paused in the hallway, ticking her head towards a framed picture on the wall. Spencer's eyes widened. But he was able to control the rest of his reaction to the photo of Eliana. The photo looked like it had been taken somewhat recently, or at least within the last year. Eliana didn't look any younger, though she was dressed differently in the picture than what he was used to. Her clothes were much more conservative, with a higher neckline, a longer hemline, and nothing showing between the hem of her shirt and the waistline of her skirt. Like Riley's mother, she was wearing a gold cross around her neck. And there was a small gold engagement ring on her finger, the one he'd seen pictures of on her social media account.
"That's her there," Riley's mother said as she pointed towards the photo, her smile indicating that she highly approved of the relationship between her son and the woman she believed to be his current fiance. "Isn't she beautiful? They met in Morocco, volunteering for the peace corps. You know she speaks six different languages."
"Oh," JJ said, giving the picture the appropriate admiration before she asked, "...how long have they been engaged?"
"Almost two years now," the woman said. "We'd like to start planning for a wedding this fall but they're waiting until she's finished with school." The woman gave JJ a smile before she added, "...you young women. So concerned with your careers. Being a mother was about all the work I could handle."
As the woman turned to continue on her way towards her kitchen, JJ and Reid exchanged a quick glance. Spencer wasn't sure where Riley was. But he sure the hell wasn't visiting Eliana up north. And he was defitnitely lying to his mother about still being engaged to her. There might be a thousand different reasons for that. But it was starting to look more and more like Riley might be an actual suspect and not just a wild lead they were chasing down. Spencer sat at the kitchen table and drank his sweet tea with lots of ice and a lemon wedge. But other than Riley's cell phone number, which his mother dialed several times with no answer, they weren't able to get any other useful information from her. Riley was due home sometime the next day, to help his father with some task relating to the horses. As he sipped the last of his tea, Spencer sent Riley's cell phone number to Kevin and Penelope in the hopes that they might be able to locate him using the phone's gps. Riley's mother was on the porch wishing them a good rest of the day when Kevin called him back.
"His phone's been turned off for the last twenty four hours," Kevin explained. "We've got an alert on it. So the minute it comes on, we'll know. But there's nothing we can do until then."
Spencer climbed back into the car as he ended the call, slamming the door shut behind him. After walking from the house in the hot afternoon sun, the inside of the air conditioned car felt like the inside of a refrigerator. And he felt a surge of panic, wondering how hot it was inside the outbuildings on the property and if that alone might be enough to kill the women that were potentially being held prisoner inside. The visit with Riley's mother had produced more questions and worries than answers.
"Do we have enough to search the property?," Spencer asked. He already knew the answer. But he still groaned and shook his head when Prentiss confirmed what he already knew. They had nothing at all, let alone enough for a search warrant. A picture of Eliana on the wall inside the house meant nothing except that she and Riley were engaged when the picture was taken. They knew that before they showed up here.
After their trip into Nash county farmland, the team spent some more time chasing down dead end leads at the station house. Detective Nick Ryan drove Spencer and Morgan to the scenes of two of the abductions. But other than confirming that the women in question were taken from public places, actually seeing the locations they were last seen didn't result in any further breaks in the case. Derek picked up takeout on the way back, insisting that they ought to eat dinner together. And then he not so subtly stayed in Spencer's hotel room until he was sure that he ate something.
When Derek left, Spencer knew he ought to try and get some sleep. His thoughts would be more clear and cohesive if he wasn't overtired. But he knew even before he changed out of his suit and climbed into the shower that sleep wasn't going to come easily. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was everything that might be happening to Eliana. And given the amount of terrible things that he'd seen over the decade he'd worked for the FBI, he had a plethora of violent images to fill his mind. He was usually able to compartmentalize that part of the job. He had to in order to stop the horror from happening and save people. But this time was different for obvious reasons. He knew the victim personally. And so he was unable to turn the images off.
He stepped from the tiny steam filled bathroom with a thin hotel quality towel wrapped around his hips. His hair was damp, leaving the curls resting heavily against the back of his neck. His back was turned towards the hotel room door when the small rectangular card slipped under it. The soft scrape of stiff paper on the cheap carpet sent a chill up his spine. Spencer turned towards the sound. He didn't have to pick the card up and view the hand draw image on it to know who it was from. Casanova was outside his hotel room. He reached for his gun and bolted towards the door.
Charging into the hallway, his wet hair slapped against his face as his head snapped one way and then the other. To his right, the door to the emergency stairwell clicked shut. Spencer rushed towards it, one of his hands holding his gun while the other held the two edges of his white hotel towel together around his hips. A woman stepped out of her room, screaming as she nearly collided with him. But he ignored her as he continued running as fast as he could towards the stairwell door. The cement stairs snagged against his bare feet. His instinct was to head down the stairs. But above him, he heard the sound of footsteps echoing against the cement walls. And then another door opening and closing. Spencer ran up, his feet slapping against the rough surface of the steps. The hallway to the floor above him was not as vacant as the hallway where his room was. The members of a wedding party were clogging up the hallway. Women in long pink dresses reacted in shock as an armed man rushed towards them wearing nothing but his hotel towel, squealing and laughing with nervous high pitched giggles.
"Did you see a man run this way?," he asked.
"Why?," one woman exclaimed. "Was he naked too?" Another one was slightly more helpful, stating that a man in a hoodie had passed by them a minute ago. Spencer didn't bother to thank her. He just took off in the direction she indicated. But by the time he made it to part of the hall that opened up into two different directions he realized there was no point in running further. He had no idea which way Casanova went.
When Spencer was done taking his walk of shame back to his hotel room, he realized he's locked himself out. Choosing the lesser of several evils, he pounded on Derek's door and hollered for him to open up. About twenty minutes and an equal amount of wisecracks from him later, they were both dressed and sitting in the hotel security office reviewing their camera footage.
If it wasn't already obvious that they were dealing with a sophisticated criminal, it immediately became clear when they tried to catch him on camera. Not only was he wearing a dark hoodie and a hat to hide his facial features, every time he walked into the camera frame, the feed went out. The unsub known as Casanova was using some sort of disruptor to scramble the camera feed. Spencer Reid had several enclyopedia's worth of knowledge in his head. But how to fix a scrambled camera feed was beyond not exactly within his area of expertise. He called Kevin Lynch up to the control room, leaving him and the head of hotel security to figure out if they would be able to retrieve any of the lost footage.
"Should we send this to the lab?," Derek asked, holding up the small white postcard that their unsub slipped under Spencer's door. Spencer shrugged.
"We should. But there's no rush. You know he didn't leave anything behind."
Derek nodded. He cast one more glance at the card. It featured a similarly styled drawing from the previous cards. But this one was of two naked women with their hands tied behind their backs. The note on the other side was a fairly well known quote from the unsubs namesake. Love is three quarters curiosity.
"We're gonna find her," Derek promised, using his free hand to give Spencer a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You want to sit up and kick some theories around?," he asked. It was a thinly veiled statement of concern. Derek was worried about him. He didn't want to leave him alone. And for once, Spencer decided to take the man up on his offer of company, if only to hold off the horrible images that he knew would flood his mind the moment he was alone. They sat up in Derek's hotel room, going back over possible leads and theories about the crimes happening on opposite sides of the country until Derek finally lay down on the bed and passed out. Spencer was leaning forward over the small hotel desk with his head on his arm when his phone rang.
"Did you get his face on camera?," Spencer asked, not waiting for Kevin to offer his standard awkward greeting.
"No," Kevin quickly answered. "But Riley's phone turned on. He's near the UNC college campus. Looks like he's heading back toward his parents house."
