Unknown- A Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 20- Nothing

"So, kid, what was going on with you and rookie last night?" I heard Morgan ask slyly as I followed him and Reid outside to Morgan's car.

"What?  Nothing, she locked herself out of her apartment and needed a place to stay," Reid answered immediately.

Morgan chuckled and clapped a hand on Reid's shoulder, remarking knowingly, "Aw, come on, Reid.  There must have been more to it than that, what with all that charm of yours," he said with a sarcastic smirk.

"No, I swear.  I was just helping her out, she wouldn't even take the bed and slept on the couch," Reid insisted.

"Sure, if that's what you say, kid," Morgan continued teasing him, and if he hadn't been too macho to do so, I bet Morgan would have winked.

"Morgan," I said his name calmly. 

He looked over his shoulder at me, and Reid turned around embarrassedly, nervously focusing his gaze on the scuffed sidewalk running in front of his apartment building when he realized I had heard everything they'd just said.

I took a step forward and seized Morgan's arm, twisting it behind his back, hard. 

Reid's mortification turned to surprise, and discomfort with a hint of pain was clear on Morgan's face.

"Ow, Jesus, McDowell," he exclaimed, but I just inquired menacingly, "What did I tell you about that?" before releasing him with a slight shove towards his car.

He rubbed his arm and stared at me incredulously, but I thought I heard him mutter an annoyed, "Damn," to Reid as he went around and got in the driver's side.

I silently climbed in the backseat, wondering just how long Morgan would keep his mouth shut before I had to resolve to more drastic measures.

The case was fairly local, a small town in Virginia where three middle school kids had disappeared during a field trip. The bloodied clothes of one of the kids had been found by the search party only three hours after their disappearance which is why we had been called in so quickly, and to make it even stranger, the teacher had accounted for all three students mere seconds before they had been taken.

Prentiss and I were assigned victimology so we stayed back at the small police station that doubled as the town's post office while the rest of the team went to check out the scene and talk to the families and classmates of the three victims.

Aside from being in the same grade from the same town, there were no similarities between them.  There was one girl and two boys, all with different teachers, personalities, and families, and aside from names, they appeared to know nothing about one another.

The girl, Emily, lived with her parents, grandma, and little brother on a farm.  According to Morgan and Rossi who talked to her parents and teachers, she was an average student but loved being outside every second of the day.  One of the boys, Paul, was the son of the mayor, he lived in a nice house in town with his parents.  Smart, bookish, quiet, his mother had told Reid and Hotch he and his father agreed on nearly everything but sports.  The third boy, Jeremy, lived with his dad and two sisters in a trailer park on the edge of town.  History of potential domestic abuse by his alcoholic father, skipped class regularly, and at thirteen he already had a record, including theft, animal abuse, and threatening a law enforcement officer.

"Unless the unsub is trying to see how random he can be, I can't see much of a connection between these three kids," Prentiss remarked, a bit sarcastically.

"They could be victims of opportunity, but it wouldn't be easy for one person to kidnap three children from a museum.  The crime scene doesn't support two unsubs, so maybe he used a ruse or some other means to subdue them," I reasoned.

JJ returned from talking to the locals, balancing three paper cups of coffee in her hands which she promptly set down on the table.  I wasn't surprised she hadn't remembered I didn't drink coffee, but at least the gesture was nice.

Having overheard the last thing I'd said, however, she asked, "Maybe he was dressed as an authority figure or asked for help finding some of the exhibits?"

"Possibly, but there aren't any security cameras inside to support that," Prentiss observed, peering through the details in the case file open on the table in front of her.

JJ took a sip of coffee and then sighed, shaking her head.  "I always hate cases with kids," she said softly.

"Mm-hmm," Prentiss hummed in acknowledgement as she got to her feet and taped a few more pictures and cards up on the evidence board.

"What about you, McDowell?  You ever thought about having kids?" JJ asked me offhandedly.

"You mean a whiny, snotty, ungrateful blob of flesh pestering me for at least eighteen years?  Nah, I think I'll pass," I replied sarcastically.

JJ raised her eyebrows and scoffed, "Not all kids are like that."

Prentiss just half-heartedly agreed, "She does make a valid point, Jayj," conversationally shortening JJ's already short name.

The conversation was interrupted by the rest of the team returning, and after sharing out any relevant information, we set to work creating a profile for this guy.

We released it to the public on the ten o'clock late night news the next evening, but it did little to help us.  At three in the morning, we got a call.  Some drunk high school kids partying in the woods had stumbled on what they thought was the body of a boy.

It was the mayor's son, Paul, though it was hard to tell upon arrival at the scene.  The body was covered so thickly with lacerations that his flesh had legitimately been sliced into strips and it was nearly unrecognizable as a human body. 

"Cause of death was likely blood loss, I'm pretty sure the boy was still alive when he was--" the police chief trailed off. "You know," he mumbled, gesturing to the body.

A commotion sounded behind us, and I turned just in time to see the mayor and his wife frantically rushing through the underbrush, panic and hope mixed across their worried faces.  Oh no.

"Keep them out of here!" Morgan commanded, and the police chief and a few of the deputies scurried to hold them back. 

It was too late, though.  One glance at the mutilated corpse that had once been their little boy and the woman turned away and vomited into the vegetation, the husband keeping a hand on her back, the other shielding his eyes from the scene as sobs burst forth from his trembling form.

The officers steered them away and someone started bagging up the body. The M.E. might have better luck offering an explanation to how someone could be so disgustingly violent towards a child, because clearly our profile of an extreme sadist hadn't accounted for this.