ALEX | a. hotchner (sequel to BLAKE)

17

A/n: sooo... without revealing too much, I am planning a smut scene in the near future. I know there hasn't been any smut in this book or in BLAKE, mostly because I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO WRITE IT. But I know most of you enjoy it, so if you would like to write that smut scene with me, please let me know!!

"You guys work with Derek Morgan?" Carl Buford asked before filling his coffee mug.

"Yes, sir. Closely," Aaron answered, his hands in his pockets.

I sat behind him and Dave, next to JJ. I did not want to talk to Carl Buford, it was something in the way his tone changed when he talked about the youth center, a certain sparkle in his eyes when he spoke about the boys he coached.

"I gather you were a key factor to his criminal records getting expunged," Dave said.

"I feel terrible about that now."

He didn't seem remorseful.

"You do?" JJ asked.

Buford raised his eyebrows, looking at her like he hadn't noticed we were there before.

"Well, in view of what's happened," Buford shrugged and took a sip of his coffee.

"What's happened is a mistake,"  I spoke up, despite the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Buford frowned, "I'm afraid I don't follow, I thought Stan said there was all kinds of evidence."

"There is," Gordinski stepped in, "thanks, Carl, you can take miss Walters home now."

"Of course," Buford said and shook the detective's hand. "Derek Morgan," he frowned and shook his head, "it's still hard for me to believe."

He was too smooth, too calm, I didn't like it.

"For them, too," Gordinski sighed and nodded his head towards us.

I clenched my fists and stood up from the desk. If JJ hadn't been there to put a hand on my shoulder, there was a ninety three percent chance I would have punched them both in the face. The other seven percent being Aaron, who'd probably rather shoot me in the face than let me interfere with a case like that.

"I can understand that," Buford said, giving Dave and Aaron meaningful looks, "Derek had a way of charming people into looking past his deficiencies."

"Excuse me," JJ frowned, "what do you mean by deficiencies?

"Well, you've seen the records," Buford shrugged, like it was just another tuesday, like the kids he used to mentor often were arrested for homicide.

"Derek was at the youth center yesterday, wasn't he?" Aaron asked, I could see his frustration in the movement of his fingers.

"Playing football with Damien Walters and some other boys," Buford answered.

"Carl's the one that saw 'em leaving together," Gordinski cut in, and Buford nodded in agreement.

"Did you talk to him?"

Buford shook his head, "I was working inside, by the time I was done, they were leaving."

"And when was the last time you did talk to him?" Aaron's voice sounded edgy, and I knew he was thinking what I was; Carl Buford knew something, we just didn't know what yet.

"I don't know, years," Buford said casually. "If you need anything else, Stan," he said in dismissal and Aaron disappeared down the hall.

"Thanks, Carl, appreciate it," Gordinski shook his hand once more before Buford left the station.