"Since when are you a doctor? Last I remember, you were no better than a tabloid journalist."
Tatum Katz had a rough start with the BAU. Her papparazzi-adjacent photographer being a suspect in one of their cases wasn't exactly a great first impress...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
twenty-nine || "the company" season 7, episode 20
Tate's desk phone rang and the number that popped up was immediately recognized in her brain. Derek left the day prior to make sure his sister Desiree was alright after she'd gotten into a car crash. So why was he calling her? "How's your sister?" was the first thing Tate asked. They were long beyond greetings at that point.
"Awake. Talking," Derek said vaguely.
"Good. You know Hotch says take as much time as you need... So, no offense, what's with the call?"
Tate knew it was serious when, in place of a snarky response, he sighed heavily. "Tate... I think I might have a case out here."
"What is it?"
"Do you remember... When we went to Jacksonville for the Blake Wells case?"
"Of course." She sat in a private room with Morgan and went through the details of his cousin's abduction until they were sure they had their answer about whether or not she was one of his victims. It was confirmed when, later, Blake wasn't able to recall Cindi's name despite taunting Morgan by claiming to have killed her.
"I know you heard me with my Aunt. Tate, I lied about Cindi being dead. I told my whole family that it was him... But now there's evidence that she's alive." Tate was quiet for a moment, thinking. "You still there?"
"I'll update Hotch. We're on our way."
<3
The gun that John Hitchens, Cindi's stalked, supposedly used to kill himself was found to actually have been purchased by a man named Malcolm Ford. Once the address was sent over, Morgan, Reid, and Tate were the ones dispatched to raid the house.
"It's empty, but there's evidence of a woman living here," Spencer said, rejoining them in the living room once all the spaces were cleared.
"Looks like they both packed up in a hurry," Tate said, watching Morgan take a blue, rubber glove and pick up some half-burned papers from the fireplace. "What's all that?"
"Trying to cover their tracks. What the hell is she doing with this guy?" Morgan asked defeatedly.
After further inspection, a steel box was brought downstairs. Tate picked it up with gloved hands and turned it around curiously. "I wouldn't do that," Spencer said softly.
"What is it?" she questioned.
"It's a head box," Morgan said, taking it from her carefully. "He would take my cousin's head and put it through the hole, then he'd..." The latch clicked as if finishing his sentence.
Tate sighed heavily as Morgan put it back down and leaned against the table, closing his eyes in quiet contemplation. "Guys, we need to deliver the profile," Reid said.
