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Derek Morgan pinched the bridge of his nose in anguish. The rain was still falling on the streets of New York City, but now he and Jennifer Jereau were just on the outskirts of the actual city and standing on a porch in Queens. Both of the agents were thankful for the overhead looking over them. The short car ride over to this house was filled with nothing but silence. Derek and Jennifer had already been to one apartment closer to the city- about ten or so minutes away- and Emily Prentiss and David Rossi had also already spoken to one other family.
From just two families alone it was becoming evident that the five missing girls were all very closely connected. Though the agents already knew the girls weren't of the same exact ethnicity, sexual orientation, and religious affiliation, they now knew that they attended the same school. And that so far, two of the missing girls were actually close friends.
Derek Morgan brought his clenched fist up to the door again, about to knock for the fourth time, as the door in front of him finally opened. First, the big, white wooden door opened, revealing a small, Spanish woman behind, then the glass door opened.
"Hello?" The woman asked, her accent heavy. She wore jeans and some sort of blouse. She held her arm out as a small boy tried to push the way of the door and into the rain. Jennifer offered a warm smile. "Who are you?" The women asked again.
Derek dragged his down and stepped back. He pulled his badge out of the pocket of his jeans and motioned Jennifer to do the same.
"Ma'am we're with the FBI. We're taking over your daughter's case. We understand it's been nearly four weeks since you last saw her, is that correct?" Derek closed the wallet and placed it back into his jeans as Jennifer did the same. The little boy rain off, JJ assumed the weight of his missing sister was too much to carry. She shook it off and replaced her sour frown with a warm smile. She hadn't realized it had tried to disappear.
"Yes, come in." The woman pushed the door open wider to allow for both of the adults to step through the door. Derek removed his sunglasses as he did so. Jennifer shoved off her coat and held it over her right arm. "Sorry for the mess. Things have been crazy without my Marie here. It's just me now; my husband died two months ago." The woman kicked a toy out of the way as she gestured for the agents to follow her into the kitchen.
Jennifers eyebrows contorted in confusion. She had no idea this woman had lost her husband only two months ago. And her daughter only a month ago.
"I'm so sorry," JJ offered. Though deep down she knew the apology wouldn't really do anything for the poor woman. She was right; the woman waved it off and told Jennifer that he was a sick man and that he was in a better place now.
The woman sat the agents down at her kitchen table and started her coffee pot. The house smelled of pasta. It sounded like little kids. Jennifer had watched as the boy she saw before ran in and out in and out of the kitchen and back into the living room, where Andrew Garfield as Spider-Man was blasting louder than anything. It made her long for her own son. It just made Derek more frustrated.
"Ma'am, we just need to ask you a few questions. Then we'll be on our way." The woman took a seat across from Derek as he said this, realizing she had been stalling with the coffee and the cups and the milk and the sugar and the creamer and the- you get the point.
"Okay," she wiped away the tears that had begun to fall when she lead the two into her own kitchen. "Okay, let's get this over with, please." The poor woman couldn't contain herself. Swiping the tears away with the backs of her hands and her sleeves was no longer of any use. Though she felt embarrassed to cry in front of the officers, she also couldn't stand to imagine going through the same mundane questions she already had with multiple other officers.
But she did anyway.
David Rossi sat on the sofa in the living room of Mr. Harmone's apartment. He sat with his legs apart from each other, hunched over, elbows on his knees, with his hands clasped together in the middle. Emily Prentiss sat right next to him with her knees pressed tightly together and her jacket laid out across her legs. Mr. Harmone sat across from the pair, in his own chair. It matched the sofa to a T and there was an exact copy of his chair placed next to him. There was an ugly brown coffee table in front of them. Pictures lined the walls around them.
The man sat with his eyes locked on his own floor, refusing to start any sort of conversation. Rossi squinted at the man. He didn't understand the hurt he was feeling. But he did understand why the man was hurting. What Emily and David hadn't known before they set foot into the apartment was that Mr. Harmone had also lost his wife almost a year ago.
"Sir, we really do need to ask you a few questions." Emily pleaded. The man looked up at her, his eyes glossy and confused. He grabbed the back of his neck with both of his hands. He ran his hands through his hair. He looked back down at the floor. He was clearly very anxious.
"Right... I-I know. I'm sorry. Yeah, okay. Let's, let's do it." He sat up straight and whipped his eyes. David sighed. He loved the idea of solving this case and jumping on a flight back home as soon as possible. He hated the fact that he was forcing the man in front of him to answer excruciatingly painful questions about his lost daughter. Especially knowing the fact that the man's other children were roaming around the house as well, wondering where their mom was. Where their sister was. What was happening to their family? Who would go missing next?
