Yes, I'm back! I'm not dead! I just had a lot going on including graduation, travel around the U.S. and actually seeing Matthew Gray Gubler in the flesh. About half of this chapter was written 3 months ago, but I didn't get my problem's with the profile sorted out until today. I honestly thought I was going to get one of the new stories I've been working on up before the next chapter of PTTR, but I surprised myself! Anyways, Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor the Criminal Minds characters. All other characters and mistakes are my own.
It felt like the sun had fled the scene not long after the profilers. In reality more than an hour had passed. Negotiations with the man inside the diner had not progressed even after Garcia had managed to identify their hostage-taker as David Smith. As if on cue, Gideon's phone began to trill with a call from the fabulous tech goddess.
"Gideon."
"Sir, I've been digging deep into the business of one Officer James McMullen. It seems he exchanged text messages and phone calls daily with Smith up until 3 days ago when all phone contact suddenly stopped."
"Friendship gone sour?" questioned Gideon.
"Maybe... Oh! From the look of Smith's MySpace page, it seems like these two were more than just friends. I'm guessing Officer McMullen was the one who broke it off and Smith didn't take the break up well."
"Thanks Garcia. Let me know if you find anything else." Gideon hung up the phone with a sigh. He hated being stuck dealing with a scorned lover when he should be out looking for Reid. Speaking of missing agents, where's Elle? With everything going on it had slipped Gideon's mind that his partner should have arrived ages ago.
He dialed the profiler's number from memory and listened as it rang through to voicemail. "It's Gideon. Give me a call when you get this message." Short and sweet. Staring at the now-silent devicd he briefly considered calling Garcia back to track the GPS on Elle's phone. Ultimately he decided against it. That step was far too drastic and the tech analyst's attention was badly needed elsewhere.
Gideon pushed his thoughts of Elle to the side as he focused on the situation. Despite the late hour, outside the diner was lit up like day thanks to giant portable spotlights courtesy of the local field office. They had considered cutting power to the diner, leaving Smith literally in the dark, but without power the phone inside the diner would be next to useless. (1)
Gideon's thoughts were interrupted by one of the local agents on duty in the mobile command center. "Sir, the phone is ringing."
Gideon rushed back to the trailer without even thanking the man for the message. Only one person would be phoning the command center: Smith. It was the first time Smith had initiated phone contact, a sign that he was finally ready to talk. A sign that an end to the situation might actually be in sight.
"Hello?"
-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-
Reid stumbled almost blindly through the thick forest, one arm pressed tight against his body to protect his butchered shoulder. The sun, which had been just peeking over the horizon when he left the cabin's clearing, was now high over head but between the leafy covering and the storm clouds that had been brewing overhead for the past hour the forest seemed almost as dark as night.
He stopped for a moment, as he had been doing periodically, to listen for signs of pursuit. Nothing but silence met his ears. Reid had to believe that was because he had left his captor far behind and not because the man was simply far more skilled in woodcraft.
When Reid started moving again he spotted what appeared to be a clearing several hundred yards ahead of him and a couple of degrees to the west. Adjusting his course, Reid headed for the clearing, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sun.
As soon as he reached the clearing Reid looked up to the sky. It was no use. Thanks to the oncoming storm, dark clouds now covered the sky as far as the eye could see. Reid figured he had only minutes before the rain started. His best bet was to keep going and hope he found one of the abandoned cabins he knew were scattered about the area.
Reid continued through the forest. Divided as his attention was, he found himself tripping over the occasional tree root. Once he had even narrowly avoided walking into a low lying tree branch. Shortly after he left the clearing, the long-promised rain began to fall. Big fat drops splashed against his bare skin, sending a chill running through him. Pain racked his body as water slid across his undressed wounds.
Reid knew he needed to find shelter soon. The cold front that had brought the storm had also caused the temperature of the air around him to plummet. Between the cool air, the rain, and his distinct lack of clothing, he would be lucky to survive more than a few days out here.
An immensely private person, the lack of clothing had almost paralyzed Reid when his adrenaline rush wore off. After travelling the forest for several hours his state of undress had become just another fact, another factor to consider when planning his moves.
Reid's earlier luck held as he stumbled across a clearing containing a broken down cabin shortly after the rain started. Despite his state of weary exhaustion, Reid managed to find a burst of energy to make a mad dash for the door before he became completely drenched.
When he was within 3 feet of the door Reid noticed it was slightly ajar. Without slowing much, he pushed his way through the door and slammed it shut behind him. The sprint left Reid fighting to catch his breath and sent spikes of pain shooting out from his stab wound yet the sound of rain now pounding against the cabin signaled he had made it to the cabin just in time.
Even as thoughts of collapsing in an exhausted heap tempted him, Reid forced himself to make a cursory examination of his surroundings. In the dim light filtering through the cracked and dirty windows Reid could make out a layer of dust coating the room. It was clear that no one had been to the cabin in a while though the stack of firewood he spotted in the corner along with some other basic supplies indicated that others had used the cabin for temporary shelter at some point in the past.
As soon as Reid spotted a blanket in the corner, all thoughts other thoughts save for sleep fled. Grabbing the blanket, Reid wrapped it around his body as best he could, chose a spot on the floor, and laid down to rest.
-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-
Hotch, Morgan, and JJ all sat in the conference room working their way through the files containing background information on every medical professional in the area, courtesy of Garcia. Even limiting the search to medical professionals in Camden, it was still a huge list to deal with, and that list didn't include anyone in the area who had dropped out of med school
Normally they would have just called up Garcia and had their technical analyst narrow down the list of potential suspects using her computer programs, but Garcia was tied up helping Gideon and Elle at that moment so the profilers were stuck going through the files the old fashioned way, comparing individuals to the profile they had developed. As fast and efficient as Penelope Garcia was, she was still only one person.
After the team had been combing through files for about 30 minutes, JJ set the file she was holding down in frustration. "Hotch this is pointless. We just don't have the manpower to do this old school. We need Garcia."
Hotch sighed. "You're right."
"It's been 3 days, who knows–" JJ started to argue, "wait what?"
"I said 'You're right'" replied Hotch. "Garcia should have finished the initial searches on our hostage-taker in Augusta by now. Morgan would you care to do the honors?"
"Certainly," said Morgan with a grin as he pulled the FBI laptop over. He had resigned himself to hours of mindless paperwork before JJ spoke up.
A couple of key presses later the haggard looking face of their technical analyst appeared on the screen. There were dark circles under her eyes and she held her latest cup of coffee with hands that shook.
"Babygirl, when was the last time you slept?" asked Morgan, the concern evident in his voice.
"Doesn't matter. We can't sleep. I can't sleep. Not until we find Reid." replied Garcia.
"Well maybe you can help us out with that. You know that list of medical professionals you sent us earlier?"
"Yes..." came the weary reply.
"Well I need you to work me a little magic." Morgan told her.
Garcia sat up straighter in her chair, her hands at the ready. "What are we looking for."
"Hey Garcia?" asked JJ, "Could you find out if any of the victim's were recently treated locally and by whom?"
"I can Jayje, but I can't guarantee it'll be legal." replied the former hacker.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Hotch interjected.
"Oops. Sorry sir. Stay on the line and I'll have that information to you in 5."
As she watched Garcia work, JJ lifted her mug and took a sip of coffee that had gone cold almost an hour before. Nearly gagging on the cold brew, JJ decided another trip to the coffee machine was in order. When she returned carrying a steaming mug she noticed Hotch's eyes on her. His expression was guarded as usual but JJ figured he was waiting for her to explain her reasoning behind the search.
Garcia spoke up before JJ could answer the unasked question. "Nice call Jayje. It seems everyone of the victims we've identified made a visit to the emergency room at Camden General in the past month. I need more parameters though. There are over 100 doctors and nurses employed at the hospital."
"Garcia narrow your search to just those doctors and nurses who work in the emergency room. Since we profiled the UNSUB as a sexual sadist he must have had some contact with his victim's beforehand even if he didn't necessarily treat them." Hotch shot Garcia a questioning look.
The technical analyst typed furiously for a second before looking back at the camera. "You're assumption is correct oh wise one. None of the victim's were treated by the same doctor."
"That still doesn't rule out the nurses" said Morgan.
"Way ahead of you my chocolate thunder. Hospital records show that while a couple of nurses dealt with multiple victim's, no single nurse had contact with every victim."
"Their names?" asked Hotch.
"What?"
"The nurses, Garcia." Hotch sounded slightly exasperated.
"Oh Jeff Bartholomew, Andrea Stevenson and Claire Ruttbridge."
"We can rule out Andrea and Claire since we're looking for a male UNSUB."
"Wait a minute." JJ picked up the file she had discarded not 10 minutes before. "Jeff Bartholomew, 28 years old, with a wife and two kids. Given that our killer needed privacy to torture his victims, I doubt he's our unsub."
"We have encountered unsubs with families before. It's amazing sometimes, what people are willing to overlook." countered Hotch. "However we profiled the unsub would need privacy and time to torture his victims, things a family just doesn't allow for."
"Damn." Morgan fought off the overwhelming urge to punch something. He stared mutely up at the television as news of Reid's abduction scrolled across the bottom of the feed. He stared at the screen without really seeing, lost, as they all were, in his own thoughts for the moment. Finally an idea flashed in his mind and Morgan broke the overwhelming silence. "Garcia, can you get us a list of hospital employees who recently took time off?"
-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-
It had taken another 30 minutes after that first phone call for Gideon to convince Smith to let Officer McMullen go and surrender peacefully. Once Smith was in custody and Officer McMullen had been taken away by ambulance, Gideon once again allowed his mind to wander towards the still MIA Elle.
Gideon unclipped his phone and was about to dial Garcia when it inexplicably began to ring in his hand. Slightly startled, the agent hit talk and gave his usual gruff greeting. Unexpectedly, the voice on the other end was not one he recognized.
"This is Linda Perkins calling from Maine General. We have a Miss Elle Greenaway here. She's been insisting we call you since the moment she was brought in."
Gideon headed for the SUV the moment he heard 'Maine General'. He wasn't going to waste another moment at the diner. "I'll be right there."
As soon as Gideon flashed his badge at the triage desk he was led back to the room where Elle lay, clothed in only a hospital gown. "How are you?" He asked.
"I'm fine" she said, trying to pull the IV out of her arm.
"Agent Greenaway, you most definitely are not 'fine' as you put it" came a voice from behind.
Gideon turned to see a young male doctor standing in the doorway. Standing over 6 feet with sandy blond hair, peircing blue eyes and a well muscled body the doctor looked like he belonged on a soap opera rather than in a hospital ward. Gideon figured the nurse had fetched Elle's doctor after leading him to his agent.
Elle growled at her doctor until Gideon shot her a look of reproach. "Anything that would keep her out of the field?"
The doctor looked toward Elle, who nodded her ascent, before answering. "The crash itself didn't do much damage thanks to the airbag. At least not to Agent Greenaway." Both men turned to stare at Elle.
"The other driver was fine," she scowled, "But both cars were totaled. The driver was drunk and swerved into my lane." Gideon raised an eyebrow at her. Every agent learned defensive driving at the academy.
"What Agent Greenaway failed to mention was that she shouldn't have been driving in the first place. The tests I ran showed evidence of a recent traumatic brain injury. The injury itself is mild but I would like to keep her overnight for observation."
Gideon frowned. "Is there any way the injury could have been missed during her previous hospital visit?"
"Certainly. Mild traumatic brain injuries are notoriously hard to diagnose. Symptoms tend to develop after the acute symptoms of a head injury have passed. I ran additional tests based on symptoms your agent described experiencing just before the crash."
Before Gideon could respond he felt the cell phone clipped to his belt buzz against his side. Excusing himself to the doctor, Gideon stepped outside to answer the call. "Gideon?"
-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-
As soon as he made the request, Morgan had quickly explained to the others how the doctor would most likely had to have taken time off in order to spend time with his victims. There was no way he could have spent time torturing his victims and still have enough time to spend several days creating the mess in the hotel.
After retrieving the list of doctors who had taken leave of any kind within the past month, Garcia cross-checked the list against hospital employees who had been working during each victim's visit to the E.R. "Bad news crime fighters, that still leaves us with half a dozen names. Apparently there was a bug going around the department earlier in the month."
Hotch growled in frustration, something he rarely did. "We don't have time to do a deep background search on every possible suspect." The team leader paced the tiny conference room, brooding. Suddenly he twirled to face the laptop, "Garcia check DMV records and see which, if any, of the six own a luxury sedan."
"Hang with me, I shall have the results for you in a jiff," replied the bubbly woman. Despite the fact that their youngest was still missing it finally felt as if they were actually getting somewhere. That in itself was enough to put the spring back in the woman's step.
While Garcia worked, Hotch scanned the rest of his team, worried about how everyone was holding up. JJ looked like she had aged ten years over the last couple of days. There were dark circles under her eyes and her blond hair looked so stringy that Hotch wondered when she had last washed it. Watching the young woman, Hotch suddenly recalled that Reid had once taken her to a Redskins game, though neither had ever spoke of it.
With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, Hotch shifted his gaze to Morgan. The man had an intense, almost frantic look about him. Too much coffee and too little sleep had left Morgan boiling inside. His reaction towards the agent at the Augusta field agent indicated his normal iron control over his emotions was beginning to slip. Hotch's mind flashed back to the whistle Morgan had presented Reid with after the younger man failed his gun qualification. "We're all here for you man. If you need anything, just blow." As much as Morgan teased the younger man, he knew Morgan considered himself an older brother to Reid, a protector. Hotch feared the lasting effects on Morgan if they didn't find their missing agent soon.
Before Hotch had a chance to consider his own feelings their font-of-all-knowledge spoke. "Oh, good call boss man. Only 2 of the 6 employees owned a luxury sedan. John Hopewell, who works as an E.R. nurse, and Dr. Paul Ryder. "
Hotch's eye's flashed when he heard the second name. "What can you tell me about Dr. Ryder."
A few rapid keystrokes were all the woman needed to call up information on him. "Dr. Ryder, full name Paul Theodore Terrance Ryder, born October 9, 1977 in Augusta, Maine to one Elizabeth Ryder..." The three of them exchanged a knowing look though no-one dared interrupt. "No father listed on the birth certificate. Looks like shortly after giving birth mom picked up and moved the family to..." Garcia gave a sharp intake of breath.
"Come on babygirl, tell me where she moved them," shot Morgan, his usual banter sounding more than a little strained.
"Las Vegas, Nevada."
The room was dead silent as they each considered the implications of that one short statement. While the connection to Reid's home-town may have been a coincidence, Hotch's mental calculations told him that the two of them could have been in high school at the same time.
"What else can you tell us Garcia."
"Seems like Dr. Ryder was somewhat of a smarty pants. He skipped a few grades, graduated at 16 and started studying Bioengineering with a pre-med concentration at Berkley. When he turned 18 it seems he transferred to the University of Maine and moved back to Camden with his mom... oh." Garcia's voice dipped as she finished. "His mom was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer... she died a year later. It looks like he stayed with her and made the 70 mile trek to campus every day until she died. "
"That could explain both the resentment towards woman and the attitude towards the town." suggested JJ, "Compromising his own future to look after his sick mother."
Hotch spoke up next. "Garcia go back to high school. What can you find out about his high school years? I also need anything you can find about the school itself."
Hotch could hear the keys clacking as Garcia rushed to complete his request. "It seems he skipped the first two years of high school and entered his sophomore year in 1992 at the age of 14. I see an article or two from his senior year about science awards but... OH!" The profiler's all saw Garcia's eyes widen in surprise. "He went to high school with Reid!"
A few keystrokes later and a current picture of Paul Ryder filled the screen. This time it was JJ's turn to gasp in shock and recognition.
"He... that's the doctor who treated Elle in the hospital!"
Hotch's eyebrows shot up at her statement. "Morgan, get Gideon on the phone."
-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-
Gideon stepped back into the examination room. After his conversation with Hotch there was no time to waste. "You never did answer my question." He reminded the doctor. Regardless of the answer there was no way Jason Gideon was leaving an agent in the hospital with a killer doctor on the loose. Particularly not when the doctor in question knew said agent could possibly identify him.
The doctor sighed. "At present no, there is no reason she shouldn't go back to work so long as she avoids driving. However there is still a chance additional symptoms might develop as a result of her most recent trauma. Hence my desire-"
"All right get dressed." said Gideon. Elle was already in the process of doing so. She had removed the IV and begun disconnecting herself from the various machines as soon as the doctor said no.
Elle's doctor rolled his eyes at the agent. "You'll have to fill out some paperwork at the front desk. Out of respect for what you do, I won't make you sign out AMA." (2)
After handing her the bag containing her belongings, both men left the room to allow her to change in privacy.
When Elle walked out fully dressed just over a minute later her doctor raised an eyebrow.
"What?" she asked.
"Fastest I have ever seen a woman get ready to go."
Elle scowled at the man before heading quick-step for the administration desk. Gideon fell into step beside her and started filling the agent in. "Hotch and Morgan may have identified the UNSUB. You up for a helicopter ride?"
(1) While a conventional phone line with a corded phone will still function when the power is out, it can be very difficult to hear because the sound isn't amplified in any way.
(2) Against medical advice