Reid My Mind

30. Missing Link

crash - ryan beatty

"I'm convinced the unsub is organized," Emily declared. We were all gathered around a conference room in the D.C. police station. Rossi, Reid, JJ were sitting, Prentiss, Morgan, and Hotch were standing. I leaned against the table rubbing my arms in the surprising chill of the conference room. I'd left my jacket at the hotel and the cardigan I was wearing was useless. All of us were staring at the evidence boards.

"It would explain why he keeps them for so long. Most unorganized killers don't keep their victims for five days," I said.

"But we can't find any connection between the victims. Different races, socioeconomic conditions. They seem completely random," Morgan pointed out.

"Are were sure about that? There could be something we're missing," Rossi said.

"They were all roughly the same age until the last..." Reid glanced at me and I swallowed hard.

"Twenty four to thirty is a pretty big jump, particularly given that his previous victims were within two years of each other," Reid finished. That's right. I had almost forgotten that she was two years ahead of me in college, a junior to my freshman.

"Davis, can you think of anything that might tie Eliza to the others," Rossi asked me. It didn't skip past me, how he avoided saying 'victims'.

"Not really. She... She was in a sorority in college. And she worked in the Peace Corps for a while," I recalled, rubbing my eyes.

"I'll have Garcia check it out," Morgan said.

My phone buzzed and I narrowly avoided an outward groan before checking it. Everything not related to the case was a chore. I just wanted to find the person who killed Eliza. But when I looked the locked screen my breath turned solid in my lungs. Max was calling.

Without saying a word, I stepped out of the room, aware that all eyes were following me out. Then, steeling myself, I picked up.

"Hey, Max."

"Maya," he breathed shakily into the receiver, "I need your help. Can you come over?" That took me off guard.

"What's up?"

"I don't want to tell you over the phone."

"Why?"

"It's just- It's important." Fuck, it was Eliza. He found out. Did she have anyone? I couldn't remember if she was dating someone. Maybe Max was still her emergency contact. She was still mine. Jesus Christ, we had put each other down as a joke.

"Max-"

"Please, just come over." I pushed my tongue into the roof of my mouth as I weighed the merits of telling him I already knew. But I'd want to be there for him either way. We always were there for each other. Back in the day.

"Okay, I'll be there in an hour." I had no idea how I was going to get to his house, but I'd figure it out. I walked back into the room. Everyone watched me out of the corner of their eyes like I was a ticking bomb.

"I need to go home, take care of some things," I declared. Hotch nodded.

"What's the best way back?"

"Flying. You'll be home in an hour," Reid proposed.

"Okay. I'm going to catch a cab."

"I'll drive," Reid said quickly.

"It's fine, Reid."

"It's no problem," he pressed.

"Really, I'd rather take a cab. You guys have work to do," I said firmly. He looked like he wanted to argue but the look in my eyes was resolute. I tried to communicate that I wasn't mad at him for this morning, which felt years ago. I just needed to be alone.

"Okay," he said, "Text me when you get home." I nodded and left.

Apparently, I was frazzled because it didn't occur to me until I was five minutes into my cab ride that all my stuff was at the hotel. Honestly, I hadn't thought to do anything except relay my destination to the cab driver as I climbed into the back seat, eyes on my phone, trying to find a flight. I debated for a moment on whether to retrieve my things. I even let my muscle memory find Reid's number on my phone, wondering if I should call him and ask him to grab my go bag on the way home. Three clicks. I stared at it.

I turned the phone off instead. All the way off. It would only take five minutes to get my things. Plus, as I discovered when I went to shove my phone in my jacket pocket, I still didn't have my jacket. Which meant I was lacking my wallet and passport. And gun. Definitely worth the stop. My badge was clipped onto my belt, but I wasn't sure they'd let me on an airplane without a passport.

"Useless garment," I muttered to myself, searching for a place to put my phone. It would fall right out of the tiny cardigan pockets. And I was wearing a skirt, so no luck there. In my defense, it was supposed to be hot.

"What's that?" the taxi driver asked.

"Nothing, sorry," I told him, eventually giving up and shoving my phone in my bra, "I need to make a short stop before the airport." I gave him the address of the hotel.

"Sure thing, ma'am."

We were there a couple minutes later. Fuck, I didn't even have my hotel room card. I really was a mess. Oh well, I thought to myself, stepping out of the car, I can always flash my badge and hopefully they'll let me in. If not-

I'd barely stood up outside the car before I felt a hand covering my mouth. What the hell? I breathed in a familiar scent but by the time a recognized it as chloroform it was too late to hold my breath. I was pushed back into the backseat while I weakly launched elbows and knees. I got in a few hits but soon he was kneeling on legs, holding my arms down, still pressing the chloroform into my mouth and nose.

Maybe it was time for a desk job, I thought hazily as I sunk into a heavy unconsciousness.