CHAPTER NINE
Their UNSUB had written a letter. A letter he’d sent to newspapers and the newspapers had published. Emily hadn’t appreciated waking up to that. Derek had all but rushed to her side when he’d heard her toiletries hit the floor when she’d dropped to the bed. His eyes had flashed darkly when he understood what she was reacting to. Hotch hadn’t seemed too pleased either when Derek had shown him the paper. Emily, however and thankfully, had ended up driving to the precinct with Dave. She didn’t feel antsy around Dave and he hadn’t been hovering over her, treating her like a fragile China doll.
This time, it was Hotch that stayed behind. She hadn’t been sure of what she thought of that. She still wasn’t sure how to react. Part of her wanted to be back in the field, wanted to prove that she was still an agent through and through and she didn’t need this time to recover. On the other side, it was a lot for any person to handle. Back-to-back cases and Cyrus and the nightmares… it was piling up and logically, she knew that any person would break under pressure like that.
The agent in her thought differently. The agent in her fought back hard, told her that she could do better, that she had done better, that she wasn’t just ‘any person’ she was an elite agent in the FBI. The agent and the ambassador’s daughter were on the same side, telling her to put that mask in place, that she was a better person than that. That she was stronger than that.
They worked in companionable silence, Emily trying not to remember the words in the paper while simultaneously trying to figure out what was nagging at the back of her mind. And yet her mind kept coming back to the letter and their UNSUB’s particular choice of wording.
Do not expect to escape twice. Women like you do not deserve the position you hold. Promotions should be given on merit and nothing else. You will be mine. None of your unsuspecting colleagues will be able to save you.
Her brain was stuck. ‘Promotions based on merit’? ‘Unsuspecting colleagues’? She knew the answer was in those words, even if she didn’t want to remember them. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her open palms. All of this had to do with Carthey’s diner. Carthey’s, women… whores, promotions, unsuspecting colleagues… How did it all make sense? How did it all fit together? Something tingled. “Hotch, do you have a list of the people you interview for all of our victims?”
He slid the papers over to her, arching an eyebrow. “What is it?”
Emily glanced at the lists. She remembered Lauren Sheldon’s team was made up of males. She was the unit chief. The names on the lists were all male. “I’m the only woman.”
“What?”
She shook her head. “On the team. I’m the only woman on the team. Lauren Sheldon was the only woman on her team, and the boss. ADA is a high position and most of the people that worked with Kelly Wright are men. Jessica Malone, mainly male coworkers, same with Addison Howard.”
She could tell by the glint in his eyes he knew where she was going with her analysis. “The latest victim?”
“Opportunity? She was out for a run,” Emily said. “He was running from-“ she swallowed, “From my crime scene. He crosses paths, he’s already hyped up because he thought he had his next victim… she looks like the victims.”
He nodded. “Makes sense.”
“And now he wants me.”
Hotch was worried about Emily. Really worried about her. And he wanted to do something for her. But he knew there was nothing he could do, nothing she would let him do. Now, however, it was really starting to bother him. She’d cried in his arms, sobbed into his chest and now… now she’d distanced herself from him. And he didn’t like it.
It was an odd concept. He’d been feeling… something for a while now, a something he couldn’t exactly put his finger on. They were friends, sure, but this protective instinct was more than friendship. He wasn’t stupid enough to delude himself into calling it anything other than a deep caring, but he knew it was more than friendship. And she was an attractive woman, it was easy to see that. He knew she didn’t judge him, she’d proven that time and time again, working with him without coddling him and at the same time somehow managing to take care of him. She was everywhere at once and, now that he thought about it, nowhere he really wanted her.
Because she’d felt good in his arms that night. Sure, he hadn’t been happy with the circumstances under which she was wrapped in his embrace, but she had felt good. And it hadn’t been a major decision to try and get her ready bag from CSU, just something he did because he knew she’d appreciate it. Now that he thought about it, there were things that he’d started to do just because he knew she’d appreciate it. Just little things, like ordering her an extra coffee when she looked like she was having a bad day or ordering her meal because she had to run to the bathroom. They spent enough time together, him and her and the team in general, that he knew enough about her to do those things with ease.
They’d been working quietly together after she’d connected their victims and talked to JJ about issuing some sort of report to the media. He didn’t like the silence. He wanted to talk to her about what she was going through, about the nightmares, about why it bothered him that she’d automatically turned to Derek for a roommate. But from his brief early morning discussions with Derek, she wasn’t telling him anything either. While part of him thrilled that she wasn’t confiding in Derek any more than he wasn’t confiding in him, he didn’t like that she was bottling things up. Hadn’t this lead to all of this stress in the first place?
“Agent Prentiss?”
Even he looked up at her name. One of the officers assigned to the tipline looked guiltily at Emily.
“There’s a call for you on the tip line. They’ll only talk to you.”
Her eyes were fearful when they met his, even though she managed to hide it quickly. “Put it through.”
Hotch moved without thinking, coming around the table to sit beside her and slide the chair close. He wanted her to know that whatever fear she was feeling wasn’t something she had to experience without support.
“Agent Prentiss.”
There was silence for a moment. “I found you. And you won’t get away again.”
He saw her breath heave, her hands start to shake and reached out to take one without thinking. This was their UNSUB. It could only be their UNSUB. He snatched his phone off the table, shooting off a quick text message to Garcia, trying to get her to track the call before he hung up. To Emily’s credit, she took a deep breath, though her hand squeezed his tightly.
“Who is this?”
“You know exactly who this is. I have marked you, you ladder-climbing whore.”
“I have been accused of being many things, but never of sleeping my way to where I am.”
Hotch admitted to pride at the steady tone of her voice. His phone started vibrating, showing Garcia’s office number and he sighed. He didn’t want to leave her side, not while she had to keep him on the phone, but he didn’t have much of a choice, With a last squeeze to her hand and an absent kiss to her brow “ something he didn’t think twice about doing “ he stepped outside.
“What is it Garcia.”
“Half of the tiplines are open, sir, It’s going to take a minute to pinpoint the right line.”
“Make it fast, Garcia,” he said, looking in at the rigid set of Emily’s shoulders. The faster they could find this guy the more relaxed she’d feel. He made a mental not to ensure she took time off when they returned. Maybe it was time for all of them to get a break.
“Is everything okay?”
That was JJ”s voice, his mind registered absently. “Emily’s trying to keep him on the line.”
JJ’s intake of breath told him everything he needed to know. Both women knew exactly what was happening.
“Got it, sir. Just a few more moments.”
“Make it seconds.”
“Doing my best,” the technical analyst promised. He trusted she was. She wouldn’t want Emily to go through this any longer than she had to.
“Damnit!”
He’d had to turn away from the room they’d been given to he could concentrate on the phone call. At Garcia’s expletive he spun quickly to find Emily standing shakily from her chair and moving swiftly to the couch. She curled up there, knees to her chest and Hotch heaved out a sigh. “Find me the number, Garcia. Get me the number of that phone call.”
“You’ll know when I do, sir. Take good care of her.”
He didn’t have time to analyze how Garcia had known he was rushing to her side. All he knew was that Emily was hurting, probably hyperventilating, and he was the only one around to help.