Mysterious Connections ✔️

The Getaway

"I've got a possible about 20 minutes from here. Hotel employee says someone matching Cunningham's description just left. He paid in cash." Reid told Hotch and Rossi as soon as they stepped out of the police car.

"Rossi, go with Reid and check it out. I'll call the others." Hotch ordered, receiving a nod from his partner.

Hotch meant to call Morgan and Prentiss right away, he really did. He got into the police station and was met with the empty room they had occupied for the previous week and a half. He sat down at the end of the table and put his head in his hands. His fingers rubbed his scalp slightly, trying to soothe the headache he had gotten. He tried to think of the case and what to do next, but he couldn't. His mind was busy and everything was too much.

He could hear the lights buzzing above him, the sound of the photocopier on the other side of the wall. The broken coffee maker made a high pitched noise that was piercing his skull and the room felt hot and cold at the same time. Aaron briefly wondered if he was coming down with a cold. He wouldn't be surprised, he had been worn thin this last week and gotten little sleep or food.

20 minutes had passed until he stood up and took a deep breath. He called Morgan to get an update on their situation.

"We might've had a few sightings here, but nothing concrete. We just got back from a hotel where they think he might've stayed." Morgan told Hotch. He pondered over this new information.

"Reid and Rossi are checking out something very similar."

"So what, he's calling in false sightings-" Morgan was cut off by Hotch, who had been interrupted by an officer.

"There's been another body." The officer breathlessly said before leaving.

"Morgan, there's been another victim. Come back here, he hasn't left town." Hotch told him, and could distantly hear his engine start.

"Keep me posted." And with that he hung up, following in the tracks of the officer.

When they arrived at the crime scene, Hotch could immediately tell it was the work of Cunningham. It was sloppy and quick, but was definitely him. He hadn't left town, which Hotch assumed he would. Maybe they overestimated him.

"What can you tell us?" Hotch questioned the detective, who had just finished talking with the coroner on scene.

"Just his type. Blonde, small and athletic. He left her wallet with her so we have identification. 19 year old Jenny Statham." He read off her driver's license before depositing it in an evidence bag. Reid walked away from the conversation and knelt next to the body, looking for anything that may be useful.

"Any witnesses?" Rossi asked from Hotch's side. The detective shook his head in response.

"The mother had last seen her this morning, so he's nearby. Coroner says she was killed probably 2 hours ago."

Hotch shook his head, looking at the surrounding area. Nothing was special about this place, just a place to dump his victims.

"Have your coroner confirm it's a victim of Cunningham's and get back to us." Hotch told the detective, who ran a hand down his face looking at the victim. He nodded in response and they all turned around to head back to the station.

"Hey Hotch! I think I got something." Reid shouted, drawing their attention. Aaron hurried over, kneeling next to the young doctor and he pointed to something with his pen.

"This looks like rust, doesn't it?" He asked his boss, showing the rust covered parts of the victims sole. Hotch leaned closer, trying to get a better look.

"Looks like rust. That means she must've been somewhere old." He looked up at the rest of the body, following the trail. "She must've been dragged, look here. The rust goes up the side of the body, I bet her back is covered in it too." He called over a police tech nearby.

"Take samples of this rust and get it analyzed. Send the compound to our technical analyst in Quantico, Penelope Garcia." The tech nodded in response and carefully took a swab sample. "And please, hurry." She nodded and walked away, hurrying to a car. Reid shouted out a thank you as they all stood up.

"Once Garcia has that then we can narrow down where Cunningham killed her."

It wasn't long before the whole team convened back at the police station, all of them crowded into the small, stuffy conference room. A small window occasionally brought in new air, but they were all eager to leave. They hit 'answer' and spoke to Garcia about the rust.

"Alright my lovelies, I have learned more about rust in the past half an hour then I have ever wanted to. So," she rambled "the type of rust we are looking at my friends is called cavity corrosion. But specifically we have got the red rust kind. This happens where there is high oxygen and moderate moisture. Therefore, I took this information and looked for places these things may all have in conjunction. There is an abandoned factory just 20 miles away that deals with salt.

"Why is salt important you may ask? Well, salt can lead to corrosion, and depending on the way you produce salt, it can cause oxygen. Who just saved the day?" She teased as the team got ready to leave.

"You always save the day mama, send us the address." Morgan said, finger hovering over the button.

"Already going over the waves."

The night air slightly bit at their cheeks when they stepped out of the police station donned in their bulletproof vests. They took two cars, following the address Garcia sent them to the other side of town. Hotch felt a sense of worry and relief, he hoped Cunningham was there and could be arrested again, but he was also worried this would lead them to a dead end.

Arriving at the factory, Adrielle parked a small car, tucked away quietly to the side. She missed the bike, but if she wanted to lug a body out of here it was probably better not to do that on a bike. She tied up her hair as she looked up at the building, the adrenaline pumping in her blood. Adrielle thought of looking at her phone to see where the FBI were, but assumed that they probably hadn't figured it out yet.

The cold air nipped at her exposed neck as she ducked back into the car, grabbing her knives and gun from the backpack. The knives spun twice in her hands before she strapped them into her tactical pants where they fit snugly against her thigh. The gun fit into her shoulder holster that went under her arms and crossed over her back.

Entering the building as quietly as she could, she thanked the many years of doing this that taught her how to move silently. Adrielle stuck to the shadows, carefully scanning the rooms. She knew he was here, but she didn't need any loud noises spooking him to run. Creeping quietly up the stairs, she kept one hand wrapped loosely around one of her knives. Despite the rust and years of wear, it seemed as if the stairs were also scared of her. They dared not to make a sound as she moved up them, allowing her to silently move up the next floor.

There was a noise below her, a creaking of sort. She quickly moved around the corner and moved down the hallway, hiding around the far corner. Her ears strained to listen. The floor was empty down there, she was confused how anyone could be sneaking up behind her. Soft footsteps led to her, making her pull out her blade. She calmed her beating heart, not needing to make any stupid moves. The footsteps were now right next to her.

She jumped out and pressed the man against the wall, pinning her hips against his. His hands and weapon were now stuck between them, her hips holding their arms and weapon between them. Adrielle's knife was poised right next to his neck, her other hand across his mouth to limit noise.

She read the vest. FBI.

Shit.

"Don't," she growled out lowly "make a move."

Her breath fanned out against his face as she studied his features, instantly recognizing him from her research.

"Listen to me and listen closely. I will not have you interfering with my catch, got it? I know all about you. I know that this case has been long and exhausting, don't you want someone else to deal with it? I'll get him for you and you can have all the credit."
The man struggled weakly against her grip as he looked into her eyes.

"Be a good boy and be quiet. If he hears us then he will run. In 3 days time you will find Roger Cunningham underneath the Hope Bridge. Do not stake it out beforehand, if I find that you have then you will never find him again, got it, Agent Aaron Hotchner?" His eyes widened at the use of his full name.

"That's right, I know a lot about you and your team." Adrielle tilted her head. "You look like you don't believe me. Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, Jack Hotchner-" He struggled against her grip at the mention of his son.

"Oh, hit a nerve didn't I?" She laughed softly, wickedly. "I know all about you, so do not interfere."

The tip of her blade ran down his neck, puncturing it slightly. He groaned quietly in pain as the blood began to bead at the site. Adrielle watched with a mischievous grin before meeting his eyes again.

"I'm waiting for a response."

He nodded against her hand. She moved her blade off his neck but stayed still for a second longer.

"Do not follow me. Say you found nothing and order your little soldiers home." She quickly removed herself from him and rounded the corner, sprinting down the hallway. Hotch turned his head after a second to watch her go, but could only see the end of her ponytail as she rounded the corner.

Aaron stayed against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths. A part of him wanted to immediately obey. He contributed that to the fact that he was so tired and exhausted and wanted the hunt to be over, no matter the measure.

But shouldn't he still try to catch him? Who was this woman to demand the FBI step back? She was cocky and demanding, but he resigned. Obviously they were on the same side, and he wanted a break. Oddly enough, a small part of him trusted her. He silently made his way back down the stairs and out the factory before radioing in. The car that he saw earlier was now gone.

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Just a reminder that this is also posted on my tumblr kissesfromprentiss! Go give it some sugar