An Imitation of a Light - Part Three
An Imitation of a Light
Written for cm_bigbang
See the header here for full details.
Three days later, they still haven’t gotten any closer to reducing the number of potential victims, and they still don’t have enough to finalize a profile.
They’ve got it down to the basics; they were likely looking for a white man, in his thirties to forties, who was local. The unsub was organised, likely trailed his victims in order to learn the best time to abduct them, and likely had a plan. There isn’t yet enough data for a geographic profile; they need at least two more murders for that.
They didn’t have much, and it hadn’t cut down the number of suspects by much at all. Nor had it made Yates warm to them any.
They had managed to find the connection between the newspapers and the victims. Nick Barnett’s son had been in a photo of his soccer team, his arm in a cast, Keri Osbourne had been in an article about fostering kids, and Scott Monroe had been photographed with his class, after they won a competition. Each one proof of how the victim’s crime had gone unpunished and unnoticed.
Hotch sighed, looking up at the map that took up the central case board, three black pins showing where each body had been found, three more red ones marked the places where each victim was last seen alive. There was nothing worse than having to wait for another victim in order to stop a killer.
The door to the conference room swung open, as a dishevelled Deputy Innes entered, coming to a halt just a few steps into the room. She looked more worn than she had the night before. “We’ve got another one.”
Hotch gritted his teeth, mentally cursing. He hated these cases, the ones that seemed to be about waiting; it always felt better to be doing something, to have something to hold onto when the next victim was found. When you didn’t, you were doomed to spend your nights wondering ‘what if’.
“They found a newspaper with the body?” Hotch asked, wanting to be sure. It was two days early, or at least it was according to the timeline they had noticed with the other three murders.
Innes hesitated, “Not with it, but close by.”
“Close by?” Dave echoed, and Innes nodded grimly.
“The fire brigade called us in on this one.” Innes explained.
Hotch winced, wondering what this victim could have done to lead to that particular choice of punishment. Odds were the newspaper would only offer a suggestion as to what, and only once they ID’d the victim.
“Another escalation.” Reid said, quietly, toying with the wet marker in his hands.
“They’re preserving the scene for you all, but there’s only so long they can do that.” Innes shifted a little, the only outward sign of how she was feeling.
Hotch considered his options quickly before turning to the others, “Dave, Morgan, Reid go with Deputy Innes to the scene, see what you can find out.” Normally he would have only sent the two, but they couldn’t afford to miss anything. The more eyes, with the more varied knowledge, the better.
They all nodded, grabbing their coats before following Innes out of the room.
JJ sighed heavily once they were out of the room, sagging in her chair a little, “I wish there was something we could tell people.”
They’d been holding off on making a statement to the press, the only information they had would only make the situation worse. They didn’t need the locals making the unsub into a hero or for people to start a witch hunt.
“Hopefully this will give us what we need to narrow down the profile.” Prentiss said, resting her chin on her hand as she eyed the case boards.
“He’s ahead of schedule,” Hotch said; as much as he would like to offer then some words of comfort, all he could do was get them to focus back on the case, “which means he may well be a step closer to confronting the real source of his anger.”
“The person he most wants to punish.” Prentiss said darkly.
“Or, he knows we’re here,” JJ pointed out, “which is pretty much common knowledge.” She waved a hand at the copy of the local paper that Dave had brought that morning. An article at the bottom of the front page discussed their arrival, and gave several theories on why they had been called in.
Hotch knew that they would have to make a statement by the end of the day; he just hoped that they had something more to say than ‘we’re here to help the local police with a difficult investigation’.
He sighed, glancing at the stack of paper that represented the list Garcia had sent them, of people in the local community who had suffered a recent loss, or had had something else happen to them that might have pushed them over the edge; started them down the road to killing.
It was a long list, even when cut down to just white men, over the age of thirty.
He frowned, pulling his laptop closer and sending Garcia a message, waiting for her to appear on screen. If this victim was the same as the others, the nature of the death would directly link to their apparent crime. There would be records of any suspicious fires, and that would give them something to work with while they waited for the others to return.
-
Bits of ash drifted past on the wind as the three men climbed out of the SUV. Innes was already on the sidewalk, arms crossed over her stomach as she waited for them. Fire trucks still lined the end of the street, even though the fire had died hours before. The shell of a small industrial unit, the concrete walls blackened, it wasn’t what Rossi had expected to see when Innes had told them another body had been found.
Rossi frowned, considering what it might mean. The other victims had all been left close to the places they had committed their crimes, odds were, if this was their unsub, the same would be true. It was something worth mentioning when they got back to the others.
They walked forward as a group, and Rossi looked around as they walked, making note of the setting. There was more privacy here than the other dump sites; less risk of being caught meant that the unsub would have been able to take his time.
Innes motioned to one of the firemen as they reached the cordon, and he walked over, or rather she walked over. Rossi cursed his own assumptions, and hoped that his surprise hadn’t shown in his face.
“Captain Henderson, these are Agents Rossi, Morgan, and Doctor Reid,” Innes introduced them quickly, and Henderson nodded, eying each of them in turn. Rossi found himself warming to her; there was something in the way she held herself that spoke of experience and confidence.
Henderson motioned for them to duck under the cordon, “I’ll let you folks take a look at the body from a distance, then I’ll show you the newspaper.”
“Is the building unsafe?” Morgan asked, and Henderson shook her head.
“The fire didn’t burn all that hot, most of the damage is relatively superficial really, this guy didn’t use any serious accelerants. He crafted a fire that would do exactly what he needed, nothing more, nothing less. The only reason it got as bad as it did was because no one noticed it for so long.” Henderson explained, before coming to a stop, just short of the building, “That said, I’d rather you looked from a distance, less people disturb stuff the better. Plus, I’d rather not have a fed injured on my scene.”
Morgan smiled, “Fair enough.”
Henderson returned the smile, then nodded to the building, leading them a little closer, clearly having a place in mind for them to stand. “Coroner wants to move this guy as soon as possible.”
“We won’t take long.” Rossi said. They were used to only getting a limited amount of time, had learned to work with what they got.
Henderson halted them at a spot right in what must have been the doorway, not saying anything. Rossi fought back a grin, turning his attention instead to what he could see inside the wreckage of the building. There were a few people moving amongst the rubble, but it wasn’t hard to spot the body.
Rossi winced; on the list of ways he did not want to die, fire was pretty high. It was hard to tell if the body had been posed like the others, but from the scraps of nylon rope that he could just about make out, he had a feeling that hadn’t been the case.
The unsub hadn’t posed the body, because when he’d left, his victim had still been alive.
-
Emily looked up from the file she’d been reading through as Morgan, Reid, and Rossi walked back into the room. While they’d been gone, both Yates and Sumner had come and gone, running their own set of errands.
“How did it go?” she asked, eyeing the pieces of ash that had caught in their hair.
“Our guy has claimed his fourth victim.” Rossi said, settling into the free chair across from her, and sliding a cardboard cup of coffee across to her.
Morgan and Reid both claimed seats, handing JJ and Hotch coffees. Emily took a long drink of her own, mulling over how the use of fire to kill his latest victim might affect the profile. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure it affected it at all.
They’d already determined he was using methods particular to the victims, reflecting their crimes back onto them. Fire wasn’t their unsub’s weapon of choice, it had instead been necessary to the ritual he had developed.
In his mind, there had been no other way to punish his latest victim.
“He’s escalating, and now he’s reducing the amount of time between victims.” Morgan broke the silence that had fallen over the room.
“Which means he isn’t going to wait another week before he takes another victim,” Emily said, glancing at the case boards, she couldn’t help but wonder how the next victim would die. She knew it wouldn’t be pretty.
“And we don’t even know who his latest victim is.” JJ added.
“I think there might be a way to narrow it down,” Rossi said, “all of the other victims were dumped close to where they committed their crimes, so we look into fires that occurred in that area.”
“It should be in the newspaper,” Reid said, standing and crossing the room to the stack of boxes filled with newspapers. While Reid hunted for their copy of the newspaper the unsub had left with his latest victim, Hotch passed Rossi a copy of the list Garcia had sent though. Every fire that had resulted in injuries, or in a few cases, fatalities, in the last twenty years was listed.
“This is quite a list.” Rossi commented, flipping through to the sixteenth page and wincing.
Morgan pulled out his mobile, flipping it open and hitting speed dial.
“You have reached Penelope Garcia, knower of all things worth knowing. Ask and I shall provide answers.”
Emily smiled at Garcia’s greeting. Sometimes she wished that Garcia could travel with them, if only to provide some brightness in person, but it wouldn’t be fair on the other woman. The cases that called for Garcia to accompany them were almost always some of their worst.
Better that Garcia be safe in her office, tucked away behind her screens, surrounded by her colourful trinkets, and numerous stuffed toys.
“Hey there mama, you know that list of fires you sent Hotch? We’ve got some data that should cut it down some.”
“Shoot.” Garcia ordered, and Emily could picture her, hands posed over her keyboard.
“The fire would have been within a two mile radius of where the latest victim was found.” Rossi said.
“Ok, any changes on the dates?” Garcia asked.
“Look around the 19th of March two years ago.” Morgan said, and Emily guessed he had to be thinking of the newspaper that had been left at the scene. She just hoped the unsub hadn’t chosen a retrospective article.
“That gives three fires, which occurred over a period of a month. They didn’t have any leads.” Garcia provided, her voice holding a little less cheer than it had before. Emily braced herself, ready for whatever it was that had drained Garcia’s good mood. “All three were house fires, that started in basements, no one died, but there were injuries.”
“Burns?” Emily asked, though she was certain she already knew the answer. Setting fires wouldn’t have been reason enough for the punishment the unsub had meted out.
“One of the kids in the second house suffered serious burns to her right leg, and three of the family from the third house spent an excessive amount of time in hospital. From the report, it sounds like they were lucky to survive.” Garcia said, “And what sucks the most is that according to the reports, all three were ruled accidental. They couldn’t tie anyone to all three houses, so the case went cold.”
“Well someone figured out who was responsible.” JJ said.
“Or, thought they did.” Rossi returned, shaking his head, and Emily frowned at him. She hadn’t needed that possibility to be brought up. It was easier looking at the case from the perspective that the victims had all done something that had attracted the unsub’s wrath; she didn’t want to have to consider that the unsub might be working on assumptions.
It might not be nice, to find it easier to see the victims as people being punished for things they’d done, but at least from that angle she could contain her anger at the unsub. She could understand how watching people commit crimes, then go unpunished, could drive someone to do this. She couldn’t understand someone who created crimes for their victims, who took a person and fixed them to a crime.
“Could be our victim was an electrician. Maybe they worked off the books for the families, and it was the wiring they fixed that caused the fires.” Morgan said.
“And with that thought in mind,” Garcia interrupted before Morgan could say anymore, “there is a list of local electricians winging its way to you as we speak.”
“Thank you Garcia.” Hotch spoke for the first time since the others had returned, and Emily looked across at him, watching as he frowned down at the papers he had spread in front of him.
Morgan flipped his phone shut, just as Reid sat back down in the chair to Morgan’s right, newspaper in hand. Reid spread the newspaper out, letting them all see the article he had found. Half of a page, close to the middle of the newspaper, had been devoted to an update on the status of the families affected, complete with a picture of one of the injured kids.
JJ made a little noise, and Emily knew what her friend was thinking. The boy in the picture could have been JJ’s son, Henry. It didn’t seem fair that a child had to suffer like that, but it still wasn’t an excuse for what the unsub had done.
Emily stilled, running the thought through her head again, she looked up to find Hotch watching her. He raised as eyebrow, and she fought the urge to flush. Hotch was one of the few people who could still make her feel a little nervous, and she hoped it made her that little bit better at her job.
“They all involve kids.” she said, drawing the others attention, “Every one of the victims, their crimes were against children. The articles in the newspapers, it’s always a photo of a child.”
“Which means it’s very likely that, whatever drove this unsub to start killing involved a child.” Hotch finished, and Emily nodded, her gaze locked with Hotch’s. One more step towards a complete profile; one more factor to use to cut down their suspect list.
Their unsub was most likely a parent.
-
A day passed with little news, each of them working on a different angle. They had two suspect lists, one with parents who had lost a child, or had had their children threatened, the other broader, including men who worked closely with children, as well as any men who had a connection to a child who had died or been hurt; that one included uncles and godfathers.
The lists were still long, but they were shorter than the previous lists; it felt like progress.
Yates and Sumner both reported in, having nothing more to offer on the earlier cases. Prentiss had spent the day talking to the families affected by the fires, along with Deputy Innes, while Reid had turned his attention to the map. They still didn’t have quite enough information for a geological profile to be effective, the points were still too random. There was no tell-tale void. All they could say was the unsub had to be local.
That was something that all of the information they had was telling them. The unsub was local, most likely born and bred in the area, and very aware of what was happening in the community around them.
Morgan and Dave had been searching through the newspapers, a thankless job, hunting for any articles that might draw the unsub’s attention. It was a hard one to gauge, lacking local knowledge as they were, so they had ended up drawing Duncan in to help.
Hotch and JJ had spent the day talking to the newspaper staff, hoping they might have some insight, in return for a brief statement. It wasn’t a press conference, but it would have to do. The case was too sensitive to release details, and as much as Hotch wished they could, it would be impossible to warn possible victims.
He didn’t want to start a witch hunt, or cause any guilty parties to decide to leave the county.
Innes stepped into the conference room, took one look around then walked over to Hotch. It was only him and JJ left, the others had all gone out, following up on some of the stories that had been flagged the day before. They had a day of interviews to get through, without tipping anyone off to why they were to talking to who they were.
Though Hotch knew that it was very likely that at least some of the locals had twigged; they read the same newspaper the unsub did, were part of the same community. They had everything they needed to lead them to the same conclusion; they were just more likely to be happy with their denial.
“They think they have an ID,” Innes said, “and they’ve finished the autopsy, there are a few things that the pathologist wants to show you folks.” Innes’ gaze drifted to JJ then back to Hotch. Innes respected them all, Hotch could tell, but that was because they were feds, not because she necessarily believed in what they did. She’d shrugged the few times that Duncan had muttered to her about common sense. But Innes’ hadn’t quite figured out their individual roles.
JJ, aware of Innes’ gaze, joined them by the conference table. “Have they ID’d the victim?”
Innes nodded, “Dental records say he’s John Milton; his brother reported him missing yesterday.”
JJ picked up the list of electricians Garcia had sent over and scanned though it, her mouth thinning. Milton’s name was on it, Hotch didn’t have to look himself, JJ’s expression said enough. “So we were right.”
“Unfortunately,” Hotch said, “that means we have nothing to add to the profile, other than what we figured out yesterday.”
JJ sighed and nodded, rubbing a hand wearily over her eyes. It had been a long few days.
“From the way that Doctor Kyle, the pathologist, was talking, I think maybe whatever it is he wants to show you might be helpful.” Innes said, and Hotch recognised her tone of voice. When Innes wanted them to do something, now, she never said it, she just emphasised certain words. She was never happy with how slowly they reacted to things she considered important. Under different circumstances, Hotch thought he would have found it less irritating than he did.
JJ frowned at Innes, then looked at Hotch, raising an eyebrow. It was his choice to make, he knew.
“I’ll go and see Doctor Kyle. Milton’s family needs to be notified, and you need to see if they’ll be willing to come in and talk to us.” Hotch said, and JJ nodded.
“Should I let the others know?”
Hotch nodded, “And if it looks like I’m not going to be back before Milton’s family arrives, call Rossi and Prentiss.”
JJ nodded again, pulling her mobile from its holster and moving away, standing by the window as she dialled. Satsified that JJ would have enough to do, without him taking her with him to see the pathologist, Hotch turned back to Innes.
“Do you need directions?” Innes asked, hand drifting to the notepad that stuck out of one of her pockets, “Or would you rather I drive you over there?”
Hotch shook his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.” He’d visited Doctor Kyle before, on their second day on the case, to ask about the other three victims. The pathologist hadn’t been able to say anything for certain, other than that he doubted that a woman would have been capable of inflicting the wounds on any of them.
Hotch hoped that the man had more to say now.
-
John Milton’s brother, in Rossi’s opinion, hadn’t known his brother very well at all.
It didn’t matter what the question was, if it involved John Milton’s personal life in anyway, Finn’s only answer was to shrug and say it wasn’t something he would know anything about.
John’s business, on the other hand, that Finn had been able to tell them about in great detail. It was, it seemed, the family business, though John had never been quite as good as the other men in their family. He struggled with some of the more complicated things, Finn has explained, though he had said that John was better with the little fiddly bits. Smaller hands apparently.
Rossi groaned as he dropped into a chair, back in the safety of the conference room. The two hours spent talking to Finn Milton had dragged, and hadn’t really turned up any useful information; it had just confirmed their suspicion that John Milton had been ultimately responsible for the three fires. It had, after all, been almost two years since John had last worked a job alone.
JJ stepped into the room, carrying yet another stack of files. Rossi didn’t know where she was getting them, but the conference room was slowly filling with paperwork. Another week on the case and they wouldn’t be able to get in for all the paper.
He watched as JJ slowed, a frown forming on her face as she glanced from Rossi to Prentiss, “Hotch still isn’t back?”
Rossi frowned, shaking his head, “You haven’t heard from him?”
“He called, about an hour ago, to say that he had finished up with Doctor Kyle and was headed back.” JJ answered, worry tinging her voice, and Rossi couldn’t blame her for it. It wasn’t like Hotch not to have called to say he was stuck in traffic, or following some lead, or getting food.
And it sure as hell didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get from the morgue to the Sheriff’s department.
JJ placed her load down onto the table, then pulled out her phone, “I’ll call him.”
Rossi nodded, pulling out his own phone, a sense of dread building in the pit of his stomach. He could remember, all too well, what had happened the last time Hotch hadn’t been answering his calls.
-
Reid was the last one back to the station, and he looked panicked, his hair messier than normal. Reid looked, Rossi thought, like he suspected they were all feeling. It had been months, over a year since Hotch had been attacked in his apartment, but the memories of Foyet were still there, just as painful as ever.
“He hasn’t been back to the hotel.” Reid said, his hands clenched, then unclenched as he shifted his weight. He wasn’t helping Rossi’s own mood any.
JJ chewed on her bottom lip, her arms crossed over her stomach, “No one’s seen him since he left the morgue, Doctor Kyle said that everything seemed normal, and Hotch didn’t mention any plans to look into anything else.”
“His SUV is in the car park.” Reid’s posture is a mirror of JJ’s, and Rossi finds himself struck, yet again, but just how young Reid is. He’s not sure he can remember being that young.
Rossi winced, that was the one thing that had thrown them all. After repeated attempts to contact Hotch had failed, JJ had headed downstairs, only to spot the SUV parked in the car park; something they were struggling to explain.
There was only really one possibility, though it was one that Rossi was loath to support. It just didn’t make any sense.
“Is it possible that the unsub took Hotch?” Morgan asked the question Rossi had been avoiding, “How likely is it that the unsub took an armed FBI agent from the car park of the County Sheriff’s Department and no one saw or heard anything?”
There’s a lot of anger behind Morgan’s words, especially the last few, and as much as Rossi agrees with Morgan, he also knows they can’t afford to anger.
“Or, we have another unsub.” Prentiss offered, and while Rossi knew it should sound better, it didn’t. It sounded much much worse. They already had the one unsub to catch, they didn’t need another one.
“Those are things that we need to consider.” He keeps his tone even, holding back his own frustration. It’s between him and Morgan, the position of senior agent in Hotch’s absence, and Morgan doesn’t seem to be thinking about it, which leaves it to Rossi.
“What can we do?” Garcia asks, her voice worried, and Rossi feels for her, stuck miles away, “If it’s the same unsub as has been killing all these people, that’s not a good thing for Hotch is it? And if it isn’t, what does it mean? Why now?”
Rossi sighed, trying to think of something to say to help them, but he can’t think of anything. It’s bad enough that have an escalating serial killer to catch, without a missing team mate being added to the mix. There was a tension in the room that told him they were all thinking of another time, another case that he hadn’t been present on, and he was certain he didn’t want to know which one.
“It’s more likely it’s the same unsub.” Reid said, and Rossi could tell that the kid was purposefully keeping his sentences short and to the point. No excessive detail, just the key points.
“Why would the unsub take Hotch?” Prentiss asked, and Rossi had to admit he’d been wondering the same thing. There were reasons why an unsub might abduct one of the investigators on their case, but normally it happened later in the game, after a press conference, or after the investigators had made some breakthrough.
It also didn’t fit their unsub’s MO. Hotch didn’t fit the victim type.
Rossi sighed, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but we need to focus on the victims we have. We can’t drop the case to find Hotch.” He hated the words, even as he said them, but it was true. They could not put finding Hotch above the possible victims their unsub could kill while they were distracted.
Prentiss shifted, glancing around at the others; of the four of them, she was the least visibly affected, but she was too damn good at compartmentalising. She could be falling apart and it wouldn’t show anywhere near as clearly as it should. “So what do we do? Split up?”
He could tell that she was thinking of the last time Hotch vanished, of her own separate investigation as they’d worked the original case. She didn’t need that kind of weight on her again. “We’re going to have to work on the assumption that Hotch was taken by the same unsub.”
“What if it isn’t?” Prentiss pushed, and Rossi sighed.
“We get talk to the Sheriff, ask if he can have his people search for Hotch. We can’t afford to split up, but we can cover all our bases.” Rossi said, and the others all relaxed, just a little.
“So, our unsub took Hotch.” Morgan said, resting his back against the edge of the conference table, his arms crossed over his chest, expression grim. “What does it tell us?”
“Something’s changed.” Prentiss answered.
“It’s a break in his pattern.” Reid pointed out, “Hotch doesn’t match his victim type.”
“And Hotch isn’t local.” Morgan said, and Rossi winced, Garcia squeaking at almost exactly the same instant.
The others looked between the two of them, Rossi in the room with them, Garcia on the computer screen, confused. Rossi sighed heavily, cursing Hotch’s nature. Hotch rarely talked about himself, and when he did it tended to be about more recent things, he didn’t talk about his childhood. Rossi also doubted that Hotch had ever really talked about anything but Haley, Jack, and work to his team. “Hotch grew up close by.”
None of them reacted for a long moment, and then Morgan turned and slammed a fist into the wall. Rossi was grateful that the wall was solid enough to take the beating; he had enough to worry about without having to explain hole in the wall to the locals.
Prentiss sighed. “So we treat it like the same unsub.”
Rossi nodded, and they all looked at the case boards. From photos of Milton, newly added by JJ while they’d been interviewing the man’s brother, to Barnett. The full range of what their unsub had so far shown himself to be capable of.
Rossi breathed out, one long deep breath, and prayed.
-
Part Four
Written for cm_bigbang
See the header here for full details.
Three days later, they still haven’t gotten any closer to reducing the number of potential victims, and they still don’t have enough to finalize a profile.
They’ve got it down to the basics; they were likely looking for a white man, in his thirties to forties, who was local. The unsub was organised, likely trailed his victims in order to learn the best time to abduct them, and likely had a plan. There isn’t yet enough data for a geographic profile; they need at least two more murders for that.
They didn’t have much, and it hadn’t cut down the number of suspects by much at all. Nor had it made Yates warm to them any.
They had managed to find the connection between the newspapers and the victims. Nick Barnett’s son had been in a photo of his soccer team, his arm in a cast, Keri Osbourne had been in an article about fostering kids, and Scott Monroe had been photographed with his class, after they won a competition. Each one proof of how the victim’s crime had gone unpunished and unnoticed.
Hotch sighed, looking up at the map that took up the central case board, three black pins showing where each body had been found, three more red ones marked the places where each victim was last seen alive. There was nothing worse than having to wait for another victim in order to stop a killer.
The door to the conference room swung open, as a dishevelled Deputy Innes entered, coming to a halt just a few steps into the room. She looked more worn than she had the night before. “We’ve got another one.”
Hotch gritted his teeth, mentally cursing. He hated these cases, the ones that seemed to be about waiting; it always felt better to be doing something, to have something to hold onto when the next victim was found. When you didn’t, you were doomed to spend your nights wondering ‘what if’.
“They found a newspaper with the body?” Hotch asked, wanting to be sure. It was two days early, or at least it was according to the timeline they had noticed with the other three murders.
Innes hesitated, “Not with it, but close by.”
“Close by?” Dave echoed, and Innes nodded grimly.
“The fire brigade called us in on this one.” Innes explained.
Hotch winced, wondering what this victim could have done to lead to that particular choice of punishment. Odds were the newspaper would only offer a suggestion as to what, and only once they ID’d the victim.
“Another escalation.” Reid said, quietly, toying with the wet marker in his hands.
“They’re preserving the scene for you all, but there’s only so long they can do that.” Innes shifted a little, the only outward sign of how she was feeling.
Hotch considered his options quickly before turning to the others, “Dave, Morgan, Reid go with Deputy Innes to the scene, see what you can find out.” Normally he would have only sent the two, but they couldn’t afford to miss anything. The more eyes, with the more varied knowledge, the better.
They all nodded, grabbing their coats before following Innes out of the room.
JJ sighed heavily once they were out of the room, sagging in her chair a little, “I wish there was something we could tell people.”
They’d been holding off on making a statement to the press, the only information they had would only make the situation worse. They didn’t need the locals making the unsub into a hero or for people to start a witch hunt.
“Hopefully this will give us what we need to narrow down the profile.” Prentiss said, resting her chin on her hand as she eyed the case boards.
“He’s ahead of schedule,” Hotch said; as much as he would like to offer then some words of comfort, all he could do was get them to focus back on the case, “which means he may well be a step closer to confronting the real source of his anger.”
“The person he most wants to punish.” Prentiss said darkly.
“Or, he knows we’re here,” JJ pointed out, “which is pretty much common knowledge.” She waved a hand at the copy of the local paper that Dave had brought that morning. An article at the bottom of the front page discussed their arrival, and gave several theories on why they had been called in.
Hotch knew that they would have to make a statement by the end of the day; he just hoped that they had something more to say than ‘we’re here to help the local police with a difficult investigation’.
He sighed, glancing at the stack of paper that represented the list Garcia had sent them, of people in the local community who had suffered a recent loss, or had had something else happen to them that might have pushed them over the edge; started them down the road to killing.
It was a long list, even when cut down to just white men, over the age of thirty.
He frowned, pulling his laptop closer and sending Garcia a message, waiting for her to appear on screen. If this victim was the same as the others, the nature of the death would directly link to their apparent crime. There would be records of any suspicious fires, and that would give them something to work with while they waited for the others to return.
-
Bits of ash drifted past on the wind as the three men climbed out of the SUV. Innes was already on the sidewalk, arms crossed over her stomach as she waited for them. Fire trucks still lined the end of the street, even though the fire had died hours before. The shell of a small industrial unit, the concrete walls blackened, it wasn’t what Rossi had expected to see when Innes had told them another body had been found.
Rossi frowned, considering what it might mean. The other victims had all been left close to the places they had committed their crimes, odds were, if this was their unsub, the same would be true. It was something worth mentioning when they got back to the others.
They walked forward as a group, and Rossi looked around as they walked, making note of the setting. There was more privacy here than the other dump sites; less risk of being caught meant that the unsub would have been able to take his time.
Innes motioned to one of the firemen as they reached the cordon, and he walked over, or rather she walked over. Rossi cursed his own assumptions, and hoped that his surprise hadn’t shown in his face.
“Captain Henderson, these are Agents Rossi, Morgan, and Doctor Reid,” Innes introduced them quickly, and Henderson nodded, eying each of them in turn. Rossi found himself warming to her; there was something in the way she held herself that spoke of experience and confidence.
Henderson motioned for them to duck under the cordon, “I’ll let you folks take a look at the body from a distance, then I’ll show you the newspaper.”
“Is the building unsafe?” Morgan asked, and Henderson shook her head.
“The fire didn’t burn all that hot, most of the damage is relatively superficial really, this guy didn’t use any serious accelerants. He crafted a fire that would do exactly what he needed, nothing more, nothing less. The only reason it got as bad as it did was because no one noticed it for so long.” Henderson explained, before coming to a stop, just short of the building, “That said, I’d rather you looked from a distance, less people disturb stuff the better. Plus, I’d rather not have a fed injured on my scene.”
Morgan smiled, “Fair enough.”
Henderson returned the smile, then nodded to the building, leading them a little closer, clearly having a place in mind for them to stand. “Coroner wants to move this guy as soon as possible.”
“We won’t take long.” Rossi said. They were used to only getting a limited amount of time, had learned to work with what they got.
Henderson halted them at a spot right in what must have been the doorway, not saying anything. Rossi fought back a grin, turning his attention instead to what he could see inside the wreckage of the building. There were a few people moving amongst the rubble, but it wasn’t hard to spot the body.
Rossi winced; on the list of ways he did not want to die, fire was pretty high. It was hard to tell if the body had been posed like the others, but from the scraps of nylon rope that he could just about make out, he had a feeling that hadn’t been the case.
The unsub hadn’t posed the body, because when he’d left, his victim had still been alive.
-
Emily looked up from the file she’d been reading through as Morgan, Reid, and Rossi walked back into the room. While they’d been gone, both Yates and Sumner had come and gone, running their own set of errands.
“How did it go?” she asked, eyeing the pieces of ash that had caught in their hair.
“Our guy has claimed his fourth victim.” Rossi said, settling into the free chair across from her, and sliding a cardboard cup of coffee across to her.
Morgan and Reid both claimed seats, handing JJ and Hotch coffees. Emily took a long drink of her own, mulling over how the use of fire to kill his latest victim might affect the profile. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure it affected it at all.
They’d already determined he was using methods particular to the victims, reflecting their crimes back onto them. Fire wasn’t their unsub’s weapon of choice, it had instead been necessary to the ritual he had developed.
In his mind, there had been no other way to punish his latest victim.
“He’s escalating, and now he’s reducing the amount of time between victims.” Morgan broke the silence that had fallen over the room.
“Which means he isn’t going to wait another week before he takes another victim,” Emily said, glancing at the case boards, she couldn’t help but wonder how the next victim would die. She knew it wouldn’t be pretty.
“And we don’t even know who his latest victim is.” JJ added.
“I think there might be a way to narrow it down,” Rossi said, “all of the other victims were dumped close to where they committed their crimes, so we look into fires that occurred in that area.”
“It should be in the newspaper,” Reid said, standing and crossing the room to the stack of boxes filled with newspapers. While Reid hunted for their copy of the newspaper the unsub had left with his latest victim, Hotch passed Rossi a copy of the list Garcia had sent though. Every fire that had resulted in injuries, or in a few cases, fatalities, in the last twenty years was listed.
“This is quite a list.” Rossi commented, flipping through to the sixteenth page and wincing.
Morgan pulled out his mobile, flipping it open and hitting speed dial.
“You have reached Penelope Garcia, knower of all things worth knowing. Ask and I shall provide answers.”
Emily smiled at Garcia’s greeting. Sometimes she wished that Garcia could travel with them, if only to provide some brightness in person, but it wouldn’t be fair on the other woman. The cases that called for Garcia to accompany them were almost always some of their worst.
Better that Garcia be safe in her office, tucked away behind her screens, surrounded by her colourful trinkets, and numerous stuffed toys.
“Hey there mama, you know that list of fires you sent Hotch? We’ve got some data that should cut it down some.”
“Shoot.” Garcia ordered, and Emily could picture her, hands posed over her keyboard.
“The fire would have been within a two mile radius of where the latest victim was found.” Rossi said.
“Ok, any changes on the dates?” Garcia asked.
“Look around the 19th of March two years ago.” Morgan said, and Emily guessed he had to be thinking of the newspaper that had been left at the scene. She just hoped the unsub hadn’t chosen a retrospective article.
“That gives three fires, which occurred over a period of a month. They didn’t have any leads.” Garcia provided, her voice holding a little less cheer than it had before. Emily braced herself, ready for whatever it was that had drained Garcia’s good mood. “All three were house fires, that started in basements, no one died, but there were injuries.”
“Burns?” Emily asked, though she was certain she already knew the answer. Setting fires wouldn’t have been reason enough for the punishment the unsub had meted out.
“One of the kids in the second house suffered serious burns to her right leg, and three of the family from the third house spent an excessive amount of time in hospital. From the report, it sounds like they were lucky to survive.” Garcia said, “And what sucks the most is that according to the reports, all three were ruled accidental. They couldn’t tie anyone to all three houses, so the case went cold.”
“Well someone figured out who was responsible.” JJ said.
“Or, thought they did.” Rossi returned, shaking his head, and Emily frowned at him. She hadn’t needed that possibility to be brought up. It was easier looking at the case from the perspective that the victims had all done something that had attracted the unsub’s wrath; she didn’t want to have to consider that the unsub might be working on assumptions.
It might not be nice, to find it easier to see the victims as people being punished for things they’d done, but at least from that angle she could contain her anger at the unsub. She could understand how watching people commit crimes, then go unpunished, could drive someone to do this. She couldn’t understand someone who created crimes for their victims, who took a person and fixed them to a crime.
“Could be our victim was an electrician. Maybe they worked off the books for the families, and it was the wiring they fixed that caused the fires.” Morgan said.
“And with that thought in mind,” Garcia interrupted before Morgan could say anymore, “there is a list of local electricians winging its way to you as we speak.”
“Thank you Garcia.” Hotch spoke for the first time since the others had returned, and Emily looked across at him, watching as he frowned down at the papers he had spread in front of him.
Morgan flipped his phone shut, just as Reid sat back down in the chair to Morgan’s right, newspaper in hand. Reid spread the newspaper out, letting them all see the article he had found. Half of a page, close to the middle of the newspaper, had been devoted to an update on the status of the families affected, complete with a picture of one of the injured kids.
JJ made a little noise, and Emily knew what her friend was thinking. The boy in the picture could have been JJ’s son, Henry. It didn’t seem fair that a child had to suffer like that, but it still wasn’t an excuse for what the unsub had done.
Emily stilled, running the thought through her head again, she looked up to find Hotch watching her. He raised as eyebrow, and she fought the urge to flush. Hotch was one of the few people who could still make her feel a little nervous, and she hoped it made her that little bit better at her job.
“They all involve kids.” she said, drawing the others attention, “Every one of the victims, their crimes were against children. The articles in the newspapers, it’s always a photo of a child.”
“Which means it’s very likely that, whatever drove this unsub to start killing involved a child.” Hotch finished, and Emily nodded, her gaze locked with Hotch’s. One more step towards a complete profile; one more factor to use to cut down their suspect list.
Their unsub was most likely a parent.
-
A day passed with little news, each of them working on a different angle. They had two suspect lists, one with parents who had lost a child, or had had their children threatened, the other broader, including men who worked closely with children, as well as any men who had a connection to a child who had died or been hurt; that one included uncles and godfathers.
The lists were still long, but they were shorter than the previous lists; it felt like progress.
Yates and Sumner both reported in, having nothing more to offer on the earlier cases. Prentiss had spent the day talking to the families affected by the fires, along with Deputy Innes, while Reid had turned his attention to the map. They still didn’t have quite enough information for a geological profile to be effective, the points were still too random. There was no tell-tale void. All they could say was the unsub had to be local.
That was something that all of the information they had was telling them. The unsub was local, most likely born and bred in the area, and very aware of what was happening in the community around them.
Morgan and Dave had been searching through the newspapers, a thankless job, hunting for any articles that might draw the unsub’s attention. It was a hard one to gauge, lacking local knowledge as they were, so they had ended up drawing Duncan in to help.
Hotch and JJ had spent the day talking to the newspaper staff, hoping they might have some insight, in return for a brief statement. It wasn’t a press conference, but it would have to do. The case was too sensitive to release details, and as much as Hotch wished they could, it would be impossible to warn possible victims.
He didn’t want to start a witch hunt, or cause any guilty parties to decide to leave the county.
Innes stepped into the conference room, took one look around then walked over to Hotch. It was only him and JJ left, the others had all gone out, following up on some of the stories that had been flagged the day before. They had a day of interviews to get through, without tipping anyone off to why they were to talking to who they were.
Though Hotch knew that it was very likely that at least some of the locals had twigged; they read the same newspaper the unsub did, were part of the same community. They had everything they needed to lead them to the same conclusion; they were just more likely to be happy with their denial.
“They think they have an ID,” Innes said, “and they’ve finished the autopsy, there are a few things that the pathologist wants to show you folks.” Innes’ gaze drifted to JJ then back to Hotch. Innes respected them all, Hotch could tell, but that was because they were feds, not because she necessarily believed in what they did. She’d shrugged the few times that Duncan had muttered to her about common sense. But Innes’ hadn’t quite figured out their individual roles.
JJ, aware of Innes’ gaze, joined them by the conference table. “Have they ID’d the victim?”
Innes nodded, “Dental records say he’s John Milton; his brother reported him missing yesterday.”
JJ picked up the list of electricians Garcia had sent over and scanned though it, her mouth thinning. Milton’s name was on it, Hotch didn’t have to look himself, JJ’s expression said enough. “So we were right.”
“Unfortunately,” Hotch said, “that means we have nothing to add to the profile, other than what we figured out yesterday.”
JJ sighed and nodded, rubbing a hand wearily over her eyes. It had been a long few days.
“From the way that Doctor Kyle, the pathologist, was talking, I think maybe whatever it is he wants to show you might be helpful.” Innes said, and Hotch recognised her tone of voice. When Innes wanted them to do something, now, she never said it, she just emphasised certain words. She was never happy with how slowly they reacted to things she considered important. Under different circumstances, Hotch thought he would have found it less irritating than he did.
JJ frowned at Innes, then looked at Hotch, raising an eyebrow. It was his choice to make, he knew.
“I’ll go and see Doctor Kyle. Milton’s family needs to be notified, and you need to see if they’ll be willing to come in and talk to us.” Hotch said, and JJ nodded.
“Should I let the others know?”
Hotch nodded, “And if it looks like I’m not going to be back before Milton’s family arrives, call Rossi and Prentiss.”
JJ nodded again, pulling her mobile from its holster and moving away, standing by the window as she dialled. Satsified that JJ would have enough to do, without him taking her with him to see the pathologist, Hotch turned back to Innes.
“Do you need directions?” Innes asked, hand drifting to the notepad that stuck out of one of her pockets, “Or would you rather I drive you over there?”
Hotch shook his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.” He’d visited Doctor Kyle before, on their second day on the case, to ask about the other three victims. The pathologist hadn’t been able to say anything for certain, other than that he doubted that a woman would have been capable of inflicting the wounds on any of them.
Hotch hoped that the man had more to say now.
-
John Milton’s brother, in Rossi’s opinion, hadn’t known his brother very well at all.
It didn’t matter what the question was, if it involved John Milton’s personal life in anyway, Finn’s only answer was to shrug and say it wasn’t something he would know anything about.
John’s business, on the other hand, that Finn had been able to tell them about in great detail. It was, it seemed, the family business, though John had never been quite as good as the other men in their family. He struggled with some of the more complicated things, Finn has explained, though he had said that John was better with the little fiddly bits. Smaller hands apparently.
Rossi groaned as he dropped into a chair, back in the safety of the conference room. The two hours spent talking to Finn Milton had dragged, and hadn’t really turned up any useful information; it had just confirmed their suspicion that John Milton had been ultimately responsible for the three fires. It had, after all, been almost two years since John had last worked a job alone.
JJ stepped into the room, carrying yet another stack of files. Rossi didn’t know where she was getting them, but the conference room was slowly filling with paperwork. Another week on the case and they wouldn’t be able to get in for all the paper.
He watched as JJ slowed, a frown forming on her face as she glanced from Rossi to Prentiss, “Hotch still isn’t back?”
Rossi frowned, shaking his head, “You haven’t heard from him?”
“He called, about an hour ago, to say that he had finished up with Doctor Kyle and was headed back.” JJ answered, worry tinging her voice, and Rossi couldn’t blame her for it. It wasn’t like Hotch not to have called to say he was stuck in traffic, or following some lead, or getting food.
And it sure as hell didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get from the morgue to the Sheriff’s department.
JJ placed her load down onto the table, then pulled out her phone, “I’ll call him.”
Rossi nodded, pulling out his own phone, a sense of dread building in the pit of his stomach. He could remember, all too well, what had happened the last time Hotch hadn’t been answering his calls.
-
Reid was the last one back to the station, and he looked panicked, his hair messier than normal. Reid looked, Rossi thought, like he suspected they were all feeling. It had been months, over a year since Hotch had been attacked in his apartment, but the memories of Foyet were still there, just as painful as ever.
“He hasn’t been back to the hotel.” Reid said, his hands clenched, then unclenched as he shifted his weight. He wasn’t helping Rossi’s own mood any.
JJ chewed on her bottom lip, her arms crossed over her stomach, “No one’s seen him since he left the morgue, Doctor Kyle said that everything seemed normal, and Hotch didn’t mention any plans to look into anything else.”
“His SUV is in the car park.” Reid’s posture is a mirror of JJ’s, and Rossi finds himself struck, yet again, but just how young Reid is. He’s not sure he can remember being that young.
Rossi winced, that was the one thing that had thrown them all. After repeated attempts to contact Hotch had failed, JJ had headed downstairs, only to spot the SUV parked in the car park; something they were struggling to explain.
There was only really one possibility, though it was one that Rossi was loath to support. It just didn’t make any sense.
“Is it possible that the unsub took Hotch?” Morgan asked the question Rossi had been avoiding, “How likely is it that the unsub took an armed FBI agent from the car park of the County Sheriff’s Department and no one saw or heard anything?”
There’s a lot of anger behind Morgan’s words, especially the last few, and as much as Rossi agrees with Morgan, he also knows they can’t afford to anger.
“Or, we have another unsub.” Prentiss offered, and while Rossi knew it should sound better, it didn’t. It sounded much much worse. They already had the one unsub to catch, they didn’t need another one.
“Those are things that we need to consider.” He keeps his tone even, holding back his own frustration. It’s between him and Morgan, the position of senior agent in Hotch’s absence, and Morgan doesn’t seem to be thinking about it, which leaves it to Rossi.
“What can we do?” Garcia asks, her voice worried, and Rossi feels for her, stuck miles away, “If it’s the same unsub as has been killing all these people, that’s not a good thing for Hotch is it? And if it isn’t, what does it mean? Why now?”
Rossi sighed, trying to think of something to say to help them, but he can’t think of anything. It’s bad enough that have an escalating serial killer to catch, without a missing team mate being added to the mix. There was a tension in the room that told him they were all thinking of another time, another case that he hadn’t been present on, and he was certain he didn’t want to know which one.
“It’s more likely it’s the same unsub.” Reid said, and Rossi could tell that the kid was purposefully keeping his sentences short and to the point. No excessive detail, just the key points.
“Why would the unsub take Hotch?” Prentiss asked, and Rossi had to admit he’d been wondering the same thing. There were reasons why an unsub might abduct one of the investigators on their case, but normally it happened later in the game, after a press conference, or after the investigators had made some breakthrough.
It also didn’t fit their unsub’s MO. Hotch didn’t fit the victim type.
Rossi sighed, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but we need to focus on the victims we have. We can’t drop the case to find Hotch.” He hated the words, even as he said them, but it was true. They could not put finding Hotch above the possible victims their unsub could kill while they were distracted.
Prentiss shifted, glancing around at the others; of the four of them, she was the least visibly affected, but she was too damn good at compartmentalising. She could be falling apart and it wouldn’t show anywhere near as clearly as it should. “So what do we do? Split up?”
He could tell that she was thinking of the last time Hotch vanished, of her own separate investigation as they’d worked the original case. She didn’t need that kind of weight on her again. “We’re going to have to work on the assumption that Hotch was taken by the same unsub.”
“What if it isn’t?” Prentiss pushed, and Rossi sighed.
“We get talk to the Sheriff, ask if he can have his people search for Hotch. We can’t afford to split up, but we can cover all our bases.” Rossi said, and the others all relaxed, just a little.
“So, our unsub took Hotch.” Morgan said, resting his back against the edge of the conference table, his arms crossed over his chest, expression grim. “What does it tell us?”
“Something’s changed.” Prentiss answered.
“It’s a break in his pattern.” Reid pointed out, “Hotch doesn’t match his victim type.”
“And Hotch isn’t local.” Morgan said, and Rossi winced, Garcia squeaking at almost exactly the same instant.
The others looked between the two of them, Rossi in the room with them, Garcia on the computer screen, confused. Rossi sighed heavily, cursing Hotch’s nature. Hotch rarely talked about himself, and when he did it tended to be about more recent things, he didn’t talk about his childhood. Rossi also doubted that Hotch had ever really talked about anything but Haley, Jack, and work to his team. “Hotch grew up close by.”
None of them reacted for a long moment, and then Morgan turned and slammed a fist into the wall. Rossi was grateful that the wall was solid enough to take the beating; he had enough to worry about without having to explain hole in the wall to the locals.
Prentiss sighed. “So we treat it like the same unsub.”
Rossi nodded, and they all looked at the case boards. From photos of Milton, newly added by JJ while they’d been interviewing the man’s brother, to Barnett. The full range of what their unsub had so far shown himself to be capable of.
Rossi breathed out, one long deep breath, and prayed.
-
Part Four