Forgetful

Chapter 3

"You wouldn't want anything to happen to Spencer, would you? You shoot me and the officer that he's with is going to put a bullet through his head." The gun that was pointed at Rowan wasn't shaking like the one in Rowan's hand.
Part of her wanted to believe he was bluffing and the other part of her couldn't put Spencer in danger.
"What did you put in my drink?" She demanded of the police chief. Her voice cracked.
"An extremely high muscle relaxer. You won't be able to move anything in about three minutes." Prince told her. He closed the door to the office they were in and shut the blinds.
"You won't get away with this. They'll find you." Rowan promised him.
"Oh, they might. It'll be long after what I'm going to do to you, though. I'm going to tie you up and you're going to scream so loud the blood from the scabs in your throat chokes you." He leaned towards her, using his gun to  move away a piece of her hair from her face. She slammed the butt of her gun against his temple and shoved him, running towards the door.
He caught her by her hair and pulled her back.
She was too weak to fight him off. He pushed her into the wall, knocking the gun from her fingers.
"Stop." Rowan almost sounded like she was pleading. His mouth hovered above hers.
She was looking straight into his dead eyes.
"There's nothing you can do to make me."
•
"Rowan?" Spencer entered the room and looked around. It was empty.
"Has anyone seen Rowan?" He asked the surrounding officers.
He was met with blank stares.
Spencer pulled out his phone and called her. It went straight to voicemail.
Spencer threw his phone and it hit the wall across from him.
He looked at the desk she should have been at and realized she had left a note.
In her perfect handwriting: One step less than a king, two steps higher than a knight.
Spencer began to think of the medieval cast system. "Prince." He managed.
He picked up his phone, ignoring the cracked screen, and called Hotch.
"He's got Rowan. But she left me a note. I know who it is." Spencer told him his suspicions.
"Reid, you can't just blame him with no proof." Hotch reminded him.
"Then probable cause! Hotch, she's gone. She's just-"
Prince walked in the room. "Any leads?" He asked.
Spencer went rigid.
"Reid? Is Prince there? Find a way out of the room- do not confront him." Hotch advised.
"Not yet." Spencer said curtly, almost shaking with rage.
He started to leave the room when Prince put a hand on his shoulder. "Some runners said you were looking for Rowan. Did you find her?" He asked.
Spencer shook his hand off of his shoulder. "I will." He growled.
He left the room.
Prince let out a laugh once the door closed behind the SSA.
He looked out the window for a second. A red bird sat perched on the branch outside. Red... The color of Rowan's blood when he took his knife and cut open her throat...
He shivered, licking his lips. "Yeah," Prince checked the time on his phone. "I'm sure you'll find your wife."