Unexpected Circumstances part 17...no really i'm not kidding
Title: unexpected circumstances part 17/?
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily/JJ
Archiving - passion and perfection if anyone else would like it let me know layla
Summary - Emily and JJ find a case hitting too close to home for both of them, in more ways than one.
Rating - R
Disclaimers: I don't own Criminal Minds, except my own
Notes: i know, it's been forever and for that i am truly sorry...real life blah blah...but the story and life are getting back on track so here i am posting for your enjoyment...if there is still anyone interested...i apoligize if you have to go back an dread the previous 16 parts just to make sense of what's going on but i hope there are some of you who want to keep reading this tale.
Notes 2: i was waiting to do a big dedication when this beast was finished but it seems that the time has come to say this tale is for an amazing woman who inspires me and has inspired this story whether she knows it or not...i hope she does. love you baby.
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15
part 16
and so we join our intrepid FBI agents Morgan and Rossi interviewing a young man at Greg Michaels' church and Emily and Reid leaving Helen Michaels' house
________________
Rossi and Morgan took the moment of silence to observe the young man’s reactions to their conversation. Moments without words were often the most telling of a person’s mental state. Tension and anger were obvious in his expression and stance. The tightness around his lips and emotion flashing in his eyes clearly broadcast that he wasn’t happy with any of the interaction he had been having with the two agents.
“Look, I don’t know what you want with Greg or me for that matter,” Andrew opted to fill the silence with his own words. “But whatever happened to those girls had nothing to do with any of us. God has his own punishments for those who turn their backs on the righteous path.”
“Is there something wrong here, Gentlemen?” A new voice came from the left and they turned to see an older man in his sixties with silver grey hair and a well manicured beard.
“These men are from the FBI Pastor John.” Andrew answered before Rossi or Morgan could introduce themselves. “They’re looking for Greg Michaels.”
“I’m Special Agent Rossi and this is Special Agent Morgan,” Rossi began speaking as though Andrew hadn’t said anything. “We’re investigating the murder of Mr. Michaels’ sister and three other women.”
“I appreciate you talking with the agents Andrew,” Pastor John’s voice was soothing. “Why don’t you get back to work and I’ll take it from here.”
Andrew nodded, it seemed he knew when he was being dismissed and felt no need to argue. Without a word he turned and walked back to the small flower bed he had been weeding. He knelt and began plucking weeds from the dirt. Morgan watched the tension in his shoulders and noted that it didn’t let up as he worked. He made the mental note to have Garcia look into the young man’s life before he turned his attention back to Rossi and Pastor John.
“I’m afraid Gregory hasn’t been here since Sunday services.” The older man seemed quite at ease as he faced the agents.
“Is that typical for him, only being around on Sundays?” Morgan asked though he was fairly certain he knew the answer. With as large a part as the church played in his online presence it would be rather surprising if he didn’t have broader participation in church activities.
“We all have moments when our daily lives take precedence over our spiritual endeavors.” There was no hesitation in his answer, as if the statement cleared up everything. “There is little else I can tell you. Gregory is a faithful parishioner whose presence has enriched our congregation since he joined.”
__________________
It had become increasingly obvious to both Emily and Reid that if Gregory Michaels had chosen to go into hiding he hadn’t sought help from his mother. She seemed more sad and lost than anything else, as though everything her family had gone through in the last few years had broken some part of her. They both made their polite goodbyes and returned to the car. Emily was torn between disappointment at not finding the possible unsub and a certain degree of relief at not finding what could have been a remarkably dangerous situation.
Reid and Emily drove in silence each lost in their own thoughts. Neither profiler was a stranger to family dysfunction in their personal or professional lives but ironing out the intricacies of an unsub’s family always brought with it a marked level of introspection. Emily could tell Helen had been torn between her children, the love and pain was obvious in her voice. It was also clear she had grown accustomed to submitting her will to her husband and then to her son once the former was gone. Emily couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness and compassion for Erin, the daughter who seemed to have gotten lost even before she had been killed.
Emily could relate to the struggle the young woman must have gone through. Trying to be the ‘good daughter’, coming home for dinner every Sunday, continually trying to have some sort of relationship with her family though it was clear they didn’t accept her. She didn’t have to try very hard to imagine what that coming out conversation must have been like. She could just imagine the tears and recriminations that accompanied that moment of honesty.
As Emily thought about it she could almost hear the echoes of her mother’s own voice superimposed over what she imagined Erin had heard. Though the admonitions contained less religion and more about appearances the emotions were the same. The hurt, the anger, the fear, on both sides, coupled with parental disappointment and disapproval it was a story as common as it was individual. Emily was well aware of the dangers of injecting too much of one’s self in a case but she also knew it was nearly impossible to avoid it entirely. Even for her, and especially when the wall dividing her own experience and that of the victim was so thin.
“So if Michaels didn’t reach out to his mother,” Reid’s voice gave Emily a mild start as he broke the silence that had settled thickly over them. “Where did he go?”
“That certainly is the million dollar question isn’t it,” Emily responded not bothering to cover the sardonic tone in her voice.
_____________________
JJ had felt a bit of the tightness in her chest ease when she heard Hotch answer the call from Reid letting him know he and Emily were on their way back from Helen Michaels’ house. She could tell from the brief flash of disappointment that had visited Hotch’s face that they were no closer to finding their unsub. Though she understood the feeling she couldn’t help but relish the moment of relief that nothing had happened to Emily.
With all of her calls made and the local PD properly dispatched and seemingly doing their jobs well there was little for JJ to do. At the moment all she could do was stare out the window of the conference room because that was certainly better than staring into the faces of the victims looking down from the evidence board. Though it seemed to the blond she could feel the weight of their gazes on her back and she knew nothing would stop it until they solved this case.
She turned slowly, facing the board, and the four faces at once smiling from family photos and then pale, bruised, and dead. JJ could not deny the feeling of seeing herself in each of those faces. Young women that were just trying to live honest lives, young women that JJ had to admit had been more honest than she had. She admired their courage, mourned their loss, and vowed again their deaths would not be in vain. Not only would this team find their killer, JJ’s own life would forever be changed by this case and the spark of hope in her chest made her think Emily’s would too.
“Are they saying anything?” JJ jumped at the sound of Emily’s voice just behind her to the left. Apparently she had been more absorbed in her thoughts than she realized as she hadn’t heard the other woman enter the conference room.
JJ smoothly covered her startled state and turned to face the dark haired agent before she spoke. “Only that I’ve been far too afraid for far too long,” was JJ’s answer as her crystal gaze met Emily’s dark one and held it for a few long seconds breaking away only when Reid and Hotch came in already discussing the meeting with Helen Michaels.
“It doesn’t seem as though he has sought out his family,” Reid was explaining to Hotch. At the sound of the young doctor’s voice both women turned their attention to the other agents.
“So,” JJ interjected, “one step forward two steps back. We do seem to be spending an awful lot of time at square one on this case.”
“We may have found something to move forward,” Rossi spoke as he entered the door. He and Morgan found seats at the conference table. “We spoke with another parishioner from Michaels’ church and it seems clear where his ideals originated.”
“It could be possible that meeting someone who sounds like he could have sent that text at the same church that Gregory Michaels attends could be coincidence,” Morgan’s tone reflected his own incredulity, “or they both got the ideas in the same place.”
“We need Garcia to check out everything we can find out about this church,” Hotch spoke up immediately not wanting to waste any time following up a potential lead.
“One step ahead of ya, boss,” Morgan replied. “I called her on the way over and she’s looking into the church and Andrew Hutchins the guy Rossi and I talked to at Living Water. She should be calling with her information any minute.”
With seemingly impeccable timing once again the laptop in the center of the table chirped to life with the image of Penelope Garcia in the center.
“Greetings daring crime fighters,” Garcia’s voice grabbed everyone’s attention. “I have minimal information on young Mister Hutchins. Looks like a typical teenager, got into a couple of scuffles at school but nothing major. Graduated three years ago from public school and has attended Fellowship of the Living Water for that long as well. The church itself is a tad more interesting, and by a tad I mean eerily significant.”
Garcia paused as her fingers flew across the keyboard in front of her just out of the line of sight of the camera. It was a few brief moments before she spoke again. “I found this video of a sermon at the Fellowship of the Living Water from about six months ago and you may not only find it interesting but you may want to check out the front row.”
With a couple more clicks the image of Garcia on the computer screen was replaced by an obviously amateur video of a smooth voiced silver haired gentleman that both Morgan and Rossi immediately recognized as Pastor John. He began by looking briefly down at the Bible open in front of him and then began to speak in that same calm voice he had used when he spoke to Morgan and Rossi.
And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man. And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh. And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.
He paused closing the Bible and looking out over his congregation before he began to speak again. “God leaves little question as to how he intended us to wed intended us to live. Men should marry women, be with women. Woman was created from man, for man by God Almighty Himself. Anything else is simply an affront to God’s order anything else leads to the grip of darkness. God will not be mocked and each time a man or a woman commits an act of perversion they are mocking God.”
Stepping from behind his pulpit Pastor John paced across the dais as he spoke. When he approached the foremost edge the front row of the congregation came into the camera frame revealing Gregory Michaels staring with rapt attention. Further down the row Morgan noticed a shock of red hair and recognized Andrew Hutchins whose attention seemed torn between Pastor John and Greg.
“There is talk of loving the sinner but hating the sin. God does not love sinners, God punishes sinners. God has made his words clear and we can have faith in them. Follow the path of righteousness and you have nothing to fear from God. Follow the path of darkness and sin and the punishment shall be swift and complete.” With those words the video paused and was replaced with Garcia’s image on the screen once more.
“It goes on like that for a few more minutes,” Garcia stated the distaste obvious in her voice.
Emily had to take a series of deep breaths; she knew there were preachers out there that delivered these sermons. She was well aware of the discrimination that existed throughout American culture but there was something about hearing it delivered, hearing how smooth and charmingly the words were spoken that hit her like a kick in the gut. It was a struggle to keep her responses controlled and she found it even more difficult when troubled blue eyes momentarily captured hers clearly communicating anger and frustration. Emily could hide her own emotions with practiced ease but seeing those emotions on that beautiful face hit her in a way she had never learned to cover.
There was only a brief second before someone would start commenting, discussing the content of the video in the clinically detached way they all had of dissecting evidence and JJ wasn’t at all sure she could do it. Anger rose within her like bile chocking off her better senses. This man wore the mantle of a man of God, the words almost screamed in her head, how in the hell could he claim to speak for God? What gave him the right to be the final arbiter of what was acceptable in the eyes of the almighty? That and the way those parishioners looked at him, taking in each word as if there was no reason on earth or in heaven to question the truth of it made her want to yell, or punch something. Instead she looked across the conference table into dark troubled eyes finding strange comfort in the small window Emily allowed only briefly and only for her.
“Not only was Michaels in that crowd shot,” Morgan drew everyone’s attention, “the guy we talked to at the church, Andrew Hutchins, was also there. Hey, baby girl, can you bring up that image?”
“Most certainly,” Garcia’s fingers tapped quickly on her keyboard and mouse and the screen was again filled with a still shot of Pastor John and the first couple of rows of the crowd at the church.
“Three seats down from Michaels,” Morgan pointed, “that’s the kid we talked too and he seems far more interested in him than the sermon.” Rather than staring at Pastor John as all the others were Andrew was clearly staring with rapt attention at Gregory Michaels. For a second no one else spoke as they absorbed the information in that observation. It wouldn’t be the first time someone killed to wipe out what they most hated in themselves.
In the moment of silence Emily’s phone sounded almost abnormally loud. Before she could even reach for it to see what message she’d just received Garcia was busy once again at her keyboard. She could be seen on the computer screen typing away frantically trying to track down the location of the phone that had just sent a text to Emily’s phone.
“I set up a trace to alert me to any activity involving Emily’s cell,” Garcia said before Emily could read her message. “The signal keeps playing tag with all of my tracking programs but I’m doing my best.” They could all see the intensity in Garcia’s face as she continued to run down as many lines of cyber intelligence she could manage. All eyes in the room turned from the computer screen to Emily who had finally opened the message she had just received from a different, as yet unidentified, local number.
For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies.
Emily read the words aloud with none of the trepidation she’d felt when the first text had appeared on her phone. There was some part of her that had expected this, been waiting for it really. It wasn’t that she was immune to the reality of receiving a text from a dead woman’s phone sent by the person who killed her. It was more that each text meant he was more fixated on them than another victim and each one brought them the smallest step closer to finding him. She clicked shut her phone with a sort of finality and looked up to meet the five sets of concerned eyes focused on her. Though she knew they were all set on her the only ones she noticed were deep blue and full of profound concern.
“Matthew 15:19,” Reid stated matter-of-factly, “a quote in a similar vein to the previous text. The next verse is ‘these are the things which defile a man’.”
“Emily,” Hotch spoke urgently, “text the second half of the quote back. Quickly before he shuts down the line.”
Emily began rapidly typing Reid’s words into the phone realizing what Hotch was trying to do. If they could keep him engaged just a few minutes longer it would greatly increase Garcia’s chances of tracking him down to a more precise location. She entered the last word and sent the message back to the unsub. She imagined it, for a moment, whizzing through the air trying to make it back before he turned off the phone and severed their one connection to him. She knew there was a certain amount of risk in engaging the unsub in any way but there were times the only way to win the game was to play even if they weren’t the ones making up the rules.
There was no sound in the room except the tapping of Garcia’s fingers on her keyboard through the speakers on the computer. It was as though the minute Hotch had spoken the team had taken a collective breath and held it. As long as Garcia was still typing there was a chance that the signal was still strong and they could track him down. Emily stared at her phone waiting to see if she received a message in return. If he answered it would be their first chance to have any sort of dialogue with the unsub. If they managed to open up communication they would be light years ahead of where they had been when they had resumed the investigation that morning.
The sound of the beep of the incoming text message seemed discordant and loud in the stressful silence that had filled the room. Had she been a different type of person there was every chance Emily would have jumped and fumbled her phone even though she had fully expected the sound. Being Emily Prentiss, however, she didn’t flinch. Her thumb moved over the keypad to open the text message with a calm that she didn’t necessarily feel. Their plan seemed to be working for the moment and all of Emily’s considerable focus was on that fact.
The mission is clear. Their blood will be on their own heads.
“Leviticus,” Reid’s spoke as soon as Emily had finished reading the message. “The second part of the message is from Leviticus. The first part is, obviously, just a statement of what he considers fact.”
Emily heard the words the Reid spoke but she didn’t need them. She knew where that particular quote came from, it was the bread and butter for anti-gay Christians, never mind that Leviticus also cautioned against wearing mixed fibers and eating shrimp and allowed you to stone your wife or sell your daughter. Emily felt a small but familiar knot form in her stomach it was a combination of sadness and rage at a world that seemed designed to breed hate and fear. She could feel JJ’s eyes on her but didn’t give in to the call to look into those blue eyes, there was too much at risk and she had too little control. Luckily for her the moment was broken by Hotch’s voice. He sounded urgent and hopeful and allowed Emily to focus not on herself but on the case before them.
“Garcia,” Hotch was focused on the computer, “are you getting any closer.”
“I’ve worked through most of the fog this guy’s been keeping around himself.” The satisfaction in her voice was clear to everyone in the room. “Whatever dime store piece of technology he’s using is keeping me from pinpointing his position but I’ve narrowed it down to a six block radius centered on the 700 block of North East Davis. It’s not perfect but it is closer. And before you ask boss I’ll have a list of any properties linked to anyone in this case in five minutes.”
“Good work Garcia,” Hotch finally took his attention away from the screen and looked up. “JJ, I need you to arrange a press conference for later this afternoon. Assuming we haven’t found him by then we will need to draw him out of the woodwork.”
It took the briefest moment for JJ to force herself to be fully present. She couldn’t completely remove the tiny spot of fear that settled near her heart whenever Emily’s phone indicated another text message. She was fully aware the unsub was in some distant part of the city but that did nothing to change the simple fact she hated that the other woman was in this position. She found herself watching the subtle play of emotions on Emily’s face, brief nuanced expressions that others would surely miss but that flashed like a beacon to JJ.
She could see frustration and anger in the tightening of dark lips and the slightest flush in pale cheeks. There was no doubt in JJ’s mind that Emily shared her internal struggle with this case and she briefly, irrationally, wished that they could just hold each other and make the rest of the world disappear. Instead she turned her gaze to Hotch and took in the details of his request for a press conference. If they couldn’t find him they would bring him out. If he thought his mission was so clear the best way to force his hand would be to make sure they got it wrong.
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily/JJ
Archiving - passion and perfection if anyone else would like it let me know layla
Summary - Emily and JJ find a case hitting too close to home for both of them, in more ways than one.
Rating - R
Disclaimers: I don't own Criminal Minds, except my own
Notes: i know, it's been forever and for that i am truly sorry...real life blah blah...but the story and life are getting back on track so here i am posting for your enjoyment...if there is still anyone interested...i apoligize if you have to go back an dread the previous 16 parts just to make sense of what's going on but i hope there are some of you who want to keep reading this tale.
Notes 2: i was waiting to do a big dedication when this beast was finished but it seems that the time has come to say this tale is for an amazing woman who inspires me and has inspired this story whether she knows it or not...i hope she does. love you baby.
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15
part 16
and so we join our intrepid FBI agents Morgan and Rossi interviewing a young man at Greg Michaels' church and Emily and Reid leaving Helen Michaels' house
________________
Rossi and Morgan took the moment of silence to observe the young man’s reactions to their conversation. Moments without words were often the most telling of a person’s mental state. Tension and anger were obvious in his expression and stance. The tightness around his lips and emotion flashing in his eyes clearly broadcast that he wasn’t happy with any of the interaction he had been having with the two agents.
“Look, I don’t know what you want with Greg or me for that matter,” Andrew opted to fill the silence with his own words. “But whatever happened to those girls had nothing to do with any of us. God has his own punishments for those who turn their backs on the righteous path.”
“Is there something wrong here, Gentlemen?” A new voice came from the left and they turned to see an older man in his sixties with silver grey hair and a well manicured beard.
“These men are from the FBI Pastor John.” Andrew answered before Rossi or Morgan could introduce themselves. “They’re looking for Greg Michaels.”
“I’m Special Agent Rossi and this is Special Agent Morgan,” Rossi began speaking as though Andrew hadn’t said anything. “We’re investigating the murder of Mr. Michaels’ sister and three other women.”
“I appreciate you talking with the agents Andrew,” Pastor John’s voice was soothing. “Why don’t you get back to work and I’ll take it from here.”
Andrew nodded, it seemed he knew when he was being dismissed and felt no need to argue. Without a word he turned and walked back to the small flower bed he had been weeding. He knelt and began plucking weeds from the dirt. Morgan watched the tension in his shoulders and noted that it didn’t let up as he worked. He made the mental note to have Garcia look into the young man’s life before he turned his attention back to Rossi and Pastor John.
“I’m afraid Gregory hasn’t been here since Sunday services.” The older man seemed quite at ease as he faced the agents.
“Is that typical for him, only being around on Sundays?” Morgan asked though he was fairly certain he knew the answer. With as large a part as the church played in his online presence it would be rather surprising if he didn’t have broader participation in church activities.
“We all have moments when our daily lives take precedence over our spiritual endeavors.” There was no hesitation in his answer, as if the statement cleared up everything. “There is little else I can tell you. Gregory is a faithful parishioner whose presence has enriched our congregation since he joined.”
__________________
It had become increasingly obvious to both Emily and Reid that if Gregory Michaels had chosen to go into hiding he hadn’t sought help from his mother. She seemed more sad and lost than anything else, as though everything her family had gone through in the last few years had broken some part of her. They both made their polite goodbyes and returned to the car. Emily was torn between disappointment at not finding the possible unsub and a certain degree of relief at not finding what could have been a remarkably dangerous situation.
Reid and Emily drove in silence each lost in their own thoughts. Neither profiler was a stranger to family dysfunction in their personal or professional lives but ironing out the intricacies of an unsub’s family always brought with it a marked level of introspection. Emily could tell Helen had been torn between her children, the love and pain was obvious in her voice. It was also clear she had grown accustomed to submitting her will to her husband and then to her son once the former was gone. Emily couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness and compassion for Erin, the daughter who seemed to have gotten lost even before she had been killed.
Emily could relate to the struggle the young woman must have gone through. Trying to be the ‘good daughter’, coming home for dinner every Sunday, continually trying to have some sort of relationship with her family though it was clear they didn’t accept her. She didn’t have to try very hard to imagine what that coming out conversation must have been like. She could just imagine the tears and recriminations that accompanied that moment of honesty.
As Emily thought about it she could almost hear the echoes of her mother’s own voice superimposed over what she imagined Erin had heard. Though the admonitions contained less religion and more about appearances the emotions were the same. The hurt, the anger, the fear, on both sides, coupled with parental disappointment and disapproval it was a story as common as it was individual. Emily was well aware of the dangers of injecting too much of one’s self in a case but she also knew it was nearly impossible to avoid it entirely. Even for her, and especially when the wall dividing her own experience and that of the victim was so thin.
“So if Michaels didn’t reach out to his mother,” Reid’s voice gave Emily a mild start as he broke the silence that had settled thickly over them. “Where did he go?”
“That certainly is the million dollar question isn’t it,” Emily responded not bothering to cover the sardonic tone in her voice.
_____________________
JJ had felt a bit of the tightness in her chest ease when she heard Hotch answer the call from Reid letting him know he and Emily were on their way back from Helen Michaels’ house. She could tell from the brief flash of disappointment that had visited Hotch’s face that they were no closer to finding their unsub. Though she understood the feeling she couldn’t help but relish the moment of relief that nothing had happened to Emily.
With all of her calls made and the local PD properly dispatched and seemingly doing their jobs well there was little for JJ to do. At the moment all she could do was stare out the window of the conference room because that was certainly better than staring into the faces of the victims looking down from the evidence board. Though it seemed to the blond she could feel the weight of their gazes on her back and she knew nothing would stop it until they solved this case.
She turned slowly, facing the board, and the four faces at once smiling from family photos and then pale, bruised, and dead. JJ could not deny the feeling of seeing herself in each of those faces. Young women that were just trying to live honest lives, young women that JJ had to admit had been more honest than she had. She admired their courage, mourned their loss, and vowed again their deaths would not be in vain. Not only would this team find their killer, JJ’s own life would forever be changed by this case and the spark of hope in her chest made her think Emily’s would too.
“Are they saying anything?” JJ jumped at the sound of Emily’s voice just behind her to the left. Apparently she had been more absorbed in her thoughts than she realized as she hadn’t heard the other woman enter the conference room.
JJ smoothly covered her startled state and turned to face the dark haired agent before she spoke. “Only that I’ve been far too afraid for far too long,” was JJ’s answer as her crystal gaze met Emily’s dark one and held it for a few long seconds breaking away only when Reid and Hotch came in already discussing the meeting with Helen Michaels.
“It doesn’t seem as though he has sought out his family,” Reid was explaining to Hotch. At the sound of the young doctor’s voice both women turned their attention to the other agents.
“So,” JJ interjected, “one step forward two steps back. We do seem to be spending an awful lot of time at square one on this case.”
“We may have found something to move forward,” Rossi spoke as he entered the door. He and Morgan found seats at the conference table. “We spoke with another parishioner from Michaels’ church and it seems clear where his ideals originated.”
“It could be possible that meeting someone who sounds like he could have sent that text at the same church that Gregory Michaels attends could be coincidence,” Morgan’s tone reflected his own incredulity, “or they both got the ideas in the same place.”
“We need Garcia to check out everything we can find out about this church,” Hotch spoke up immediately not wanting to waste any time following up a potential lead.
“One step ahead of ya, boss,” Morgan replied. “I called her on the way over and she’s looking into the church and Andrew Hutchins the guy Rossi and I talked to at Living Water. She should be calling with her information any minute.”
With seemingly impeccable timing once again the laptop in the center of the table chirped to life with the image of Penelope Garcia in the center.
“Greetings daring crime fighters,” Garcia’s voice grabbed everyone’s attention. “I have minimal information on young Mister Hutchins. Looks like a typical teenager, got into a couple of scuffles at school but nothing major. Graduated three years ago from public school and has attended Fellowship of the Living Water for that long as well. The church itself is a tad more interesting, and by a tad I mean eerily significant.”
Garcia paused as her fingers flew across the keyboard in front of her just out of the line of sight of the camera. It was a few brief moments before she spoke again. “I found this video of a sermon at the Fellowship of the Living Water from about six months ago and you may not only find it interesting but you may want to check out the front row.”
With a couple more clicks the image of Garcia on the computer screen was replaced by an obviously amateur video of a smooth voiced silver haired gentleman that both Morgan and Rossi immediately recognized as Pastor John. He began by looking briefly down at the Bible open in front of him and then began to speak in that same calm voice he had used when he spoke to Morgan and Rossi.
And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man. And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh. And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.
He paused closing the Bible and looking out over his congregation before he began to speak again. “God leaves little question as to how he intended us to wed intended us to live. Men should marry women, be with women. Woman was created from man, for man by God Almighty Himself. Anything else is simply an affront to God’s order anything else leads to the grip of darkness. God will not be mocked and each time a man or a woman commits an act of perversion they are mocking God.”
Stepping from behind his pulpit Pastor John paced across the dais as he spoke. When he approached the foremost edge the front row of the congregation came into the camera frame revealing Gregory Michaels staring with rapt attention. Further down the row Morgan noticed a shock of red hair and recognized Andrew Hutchins whose attention seemed torn between Pastor John and Greg.
“There is talk of loving the sinner but hating the sin. God does not love sinners, God punishes sinners. God has made his words clear and we can have faith in them. Follow the path of righteousness and you have nothing to fear from God. Follow the path of darkness and sin and the punishment shall be swift and complete.” With those words the video paused and was replaced with Garcia’s image on the screen once more.
“It goes on like that for a few more minutes,” Garcia stated the distaste obvious in her voice.
Emily had to take a series of deep breaths; she knew there were preachers out there that delivered these sermons. She was well aware of the discrimination that existed throughout American culture but there was something about hearing it delivered, hearing how smooth and charmingly the words were spoken that hit her like a kick in the gut. It was a struggle to keep her responses controlled and she found it even more difficult when troubled blue eyes momentarily captured hers clearly communicating anger and frustration. Emily could hide her own emotions with practiced ease but seeing those emotions on that beautiful face hit her in a way she had never learned to cover.
There was only a brief second before someone would start commenting, discussing the content of the video in the clinically detached way they all had of dissecting evidence and JJ wasn’t at all sure she could do it. Anger rose within her like bile chocking off her better senses. This man wore the mantle of a man of God, the words almost screamed in her head, how in the hell could he claim to speak for God? What gave him the right to be the final arbiter of what was acceptable in the eyes of the almighty? That and the way those parishioners looked at him, taking in each word as if there was no reason on earth or in heaven to question the truth of it made her want to yell, or punch something. Instead she looked across the conference table into dark troubled eyes finding strange comfort in the small window Emily allowed only briefly and only for her.
“Not only was Michaels in that crowd shot,” Morgan drew everyone’s attention, “the guy we talked to at the church, Andrew Hutchins, was also there. Hey, baby girl, can you bring up that image?”
“Most certainly,” Garcia’s fingers tapped quickly on her keyboard and mouse and the screen was again filled with a still shot of Pastor John and the first couple of rows of the crowd at the church.
“Three seats down from Michaels,” Morgan pointed, “that’s the kid we talked too and he seems far more interested in him than the sermon.” Rather than staring at Pastor John as all the others were Andrew was clearly staring with rapt attention at Gregory Michaels. For a second no one else spoke as they absorbed the information in that observation. It wouldn’t be the first time someone killed to wipe out what they most hated in themselves.
In the moment of silence Emily’s phone sounded almost abnormally loud. Before she could even reach for it to see what message she’d just received Garcia was busy once again at her keyboard. She could be seen on the computer screen typing away frantically trying to track down the location of the phone that had just sent a text to Emily’s phone.
“I set up a trace to alert me to any activity involving Emily’s cell,” Garcia said before Emily could read her message. “The signal keeps playing tag with all of my tracking programs but I’m doing my best.” They could all see the intensity in Garcia’s face as she continued to run down as many lines of cyber intelligence she could manage. All eyes in the room turned from the computer screen to Emily who had finally opened the message she had just received from a different, as yet unidentified, local number.
For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies.
Emily read the words aloud with none of the trepidation she’d felt when the first text had appeared on her phone. There was some part of her that had expected this, been waiting for it really. It wasn’t that she was immune to the reality of receiving a text from a dead woman’s phone sent by the person who killed her. It was more that each text meant he was more fixated on them than another victim and each one brought them the smallest step closer to finding him. She clicked shut her phone with a sort of finality and looked up to meet the five sets of concerned eyes focused on her. Though she knew they were all set on her the only ones she noticed were deep blue and full of profound concern.
“Matthew 15:19,” Reid stated matter-of-factly, “a quote in a similar vein to the previous text. The next verse is ‘these are the things which defile a man’.”
“Emily,” Hotch spoke urgently, “text the second half of the quote back. Quickly before he shuts down the line.”
Emily began rapidly typing Reid’s words into the phone realizing what Hotch was trying to do. If they could keep him engaged just a few minutes longer it would greatly increase Garcia’s chances of tracking him down to a more precise location. She entered the last word and sent the message back to the unsub. She imagined it, for a moment, whizzing through the air trying to make it back before he turned off the phone and severed their one connection to him. She knew there was a certain amount of risk in engaging the unsub in any way but there were times the only way to win the game was to play even if they weren’t the ones making up the rules.
There was no sound in the room except the tapping of Garcia’s fingers on her keyboard through the speakers on the computer. It was as though the minute Hotch had spoken the team had taken a collective breath and held it. As long as Garcia was still typing there was a chance that the signal was still strong and they could track him down. Emily stared at her phone waiting to see if she received a message in return. If he answered it would be their first chance to have any sort of dialogue with the unsub. If they managed to open up communication they would be light years ahead of where they had been when they had resumed the investigation that morning.
The sound of the beep of the incoming text message seemed discordant and loud in the stressful silence that had filled the room. Had she been a different type of person there was every chance Emily would have jumped and fumbled her phone even though she had fully expected the sound. Being Emily Prentiss, however, she didn’t flinch. Her thumb moved over the keypad to open the text message with a calm that she didn’t necessarily feel. Their plan seemed to be working for the moment and all of Emily’s considerable focus was on that fact.
The mission is clear. Their blood will be on their own heads.
“Leviticus,” Reid’s spoke as soon as Emily had finished reading the message. “The second part of the message is from Leviticus. The first part is, obviously, just a statement of what he considers fact.”
Emily heard the words the Reid spoke but she didn’t need them. She knew where that particular quote came from, it was the bread and butter for anti-gay Christians, never mind that Leviticus also cautioned against wearing mixed fibers and eating shrimp and allowed you to stone your wife or sell your daughter. Emily felt a small but familiar knot form in her stomach it was a combination of sadness and rage at a world that seemed designed to breed hate and fear. She could feel JJ’s eyes on her but didn’t give in to the call to look into those blue eyes, there was too much at risk and she had too little control. Luckily for her the moment was broken by Hotch’s voice. He sounded urgent and hopeful and allowed Emily to focus not on herself but on the case before them.
“Garcia,” Hotch was focused on the computer, “are you getting any closer.”
“I’ve worked through most of the fog this guy’s been keeping around himself.” The satisfaction in her voice was clear to everyone in the room. “Whatever dime store piece of technology he’s using is keeping me from pinpointing his position but I’ve narrowed it down to a six block radius centered on the 700 block of North East Davis. It’s not perfect but it is closer. And before you ask boss I’ll have a list of any properties linked to anyone in this case in five minutes.”
“Good work Garcia,” Hotch finally took his attention away from the screen and looked up. “JJ, I need you to arrange a press conference for later this afternoon. Assuming we haven’t found him by then we will need to draw him out of the woodwork.”
It took the briefest moment for JJ to force herself to be fully present. She couldn’t completely remove the tiny spot of fear that settled near her heart whenever Emily’s phone indicated another text message. She was fully aware the unsub was in some distant part of the city but that did nothing to change the simple fact she hated that the other woman was in this position. She found herself watching the subtle play of emotions on Emily’s face, brief nuanced expressions that others would surely miss but that flashed like a beacon to JJ.
She could see frustration and anger in the tightening of dark lips and the slightest flush in pale cheeks. There was no doubt in JJ’s mind that Emily shared her internal struggle with this case and she briefly, irrationally, wished that they could just hold each other and make the rest of the world disappear. Instead she turned her gaze to Hotch and took in the details of his request for a press conference. If they couldn’t find him they would bring him out. If he thought his mission was so clear the best way to force his hand would be to make sure they got it wrong.