Monsters & Men • A Spencer Reid Fanfiction •

CHAPTER TEN

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.
C.S. Lewis

"Tell me about Michael. What are the places that he usually spent time in?" Phoebe began as they sat down at the kitchen island.

Mr. Holloway did as he said and put the kettle on for tea while Mrs. Holloway sat across from Phoebe, biting her nail. A nervous habit. Is she nervous for Michael or about the interview? "The usual places- school and the mall. Sometimes, he'd have play dates at his friends' houses. But we were always with him," Mr. Holloway answered, making Phoebe turn her attention to him. He was busy taking out mugs, the sound of the porcelains clinking together.

"Are these playdates scheduled on the same days?" Phoebe asked, wondering if the unsub had watched and studied their routines.

Mr. Holloway shook his head. "It's actually pretty hard to schedule play dates since most of the other parents are also busy with work."

Phoebe nodded in understanding, proceeding to the next question. "Did you recently go somewhere new or do anything out of the ordinary?"

"No, not really," Mr. Holloway said, finally joining Phoebe and Mrs. Holloway. He also gave Phoebe a steaming mug of tea, and she took it gratefully despite the fact that she liked coffee more. "I mean, we haven't been anywhere outside of town in a while."

Mrs. Holloway shifted slightly in her seat, and Phoebe narrowed her eyes at the movement, but she turned back to the husband. "How about people? Were there any strangers lurking about or trying to talk to Michael? Maybe someone who you noticed at the mall?"

"Nothing like that," Mr. Holloway answered, still shaking his head. "We've reminded Michael countless of times not to talk to strangers and-"

"There was a man at the park," Mrs. Holloway suddenly cut in. Both Phoebe and Mr. Holloway turned to her in surprise. Phoebe didn't think the matriarch would ever find it in herself contribute to the conversation. "He approached Michael while I... wasn't looking. I caught him trying to give something to Michael, and I got my son and hurried home."

"I picked them up," Mr. Holloway added. "Yes, I remember now. I noticed him watching my wife and son while they got in the car."

"Do you think you can describe him to me?" Phoebe asked, not wanting to get her hopes up, but her heart still seemed to skip a beat in her chest when Mr. Holloway nodded.

Phoebe brought out her pad and started writing down what the parents gave her. "He was wearing a cap low over his face, but he had dark hair that was a bit long. I also noticed that his clothes weren't that clean- as if he hadn't washed it or bathed in a while. There was a patch on his jacket that I couldn't make out. And a tattoo on his right hand, near his thumb. It was too small to see."

"It was a bird," Mrs. Holloway whispered, her gaze distant. Then she seemed to snap back to the present and refocus on Phoebe. She leaned over the table, seeming incensed all of a sudden. "It was a small bird with a long beak. He also had this dark, sunken eyes and a long nose."

"I'll try to get a sketch artist here for both of you to work with," Phoebe told them. "Maybe we can get his picture out to the media. Did you notice him following you home?"

"No, I was- I was distracted," Mr. Holloway said after swallowing. "There were problems at work and-"

"It's not your fault, sir," Phoebe cut in, trying to reassure him. But she knew they were also hiding something. It was the second time they hesitated during the interview. And the way Mr. Holloway fidgeted with his hands and forgot about his tea told her his mind was preoccupied with answering her questions and keeping the facts straight. Maybe they just wanted to give her as much detail as possible, or maybe they were hiding something.