Chapter Twenty-Two

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"There's this shed out in the woods- I was trying to find it the day Spencer and I had a tackle fest. It's got to be in that park because I kept track of how many turns the van took me that night and it wasn't that many. The drive was only just a couple of minutes from my apartment. I remember the smell of the woods, you know how it has that distinct smell to it? How you can never forget that smell?" You sat at Rossi's table, the team was gathered around you while Hotch questioned you.

"Y/N, it-it might if help you remember if someone were to help you walk you through the full day and or night of the day it happened. From the time you woke up to the time you escaped," Spencer chimed in and you were surprised to see Hotch nodding his head in agreement.

"I don't know, it was a while ago. Some things that I can recall are just so blurry and I don't even know what real or what part of it was was-," You were stopped by Garcia.

"Were you drugged, Y/N?" Garcia asked as she shook her head in disbelief.

"The doctor's charts said it was some type of knock out drug, I can't remember the name of it per say," you stammer slightly. For some reason, you felt like you were going to give the team your whole life story and you weren't sure if you felt comfortable doing that.

"Of course, Michael has a weak body feature, so the less of a fight he has to deal with the better for him," JJ said as she passed you a bottle of water.

"You guys have dealt with Michael before, right?" You asked as you took a sip of the cool water. You couldn't help but think how funny it was as to how fast a person can get intoxicated but also how well they can sober up. Perhaps that could be a question for Spencer for another time.

"Yes, we have. We were mis-lead to believe that we actually, um, killed him off, but somehow he must have paid the coroner off to fake his death or something," Rossi replied. You noticed how Rossi looked over at the kitchen clock, which read twelve twenty-seven in the morning.  You never understood the concept of how it takes little time to turn your day from good to bad. You probably never will.

"I'm actually going to be in contact with everyone that has or had dealt Michael Holt on our previous case. The coroner, anyone that's been sent to prison because of Michael Holt, you name it. This is our next case. Bringing down Michael Holt once and for all. You said that he was working at a grocery store?" Hotch said as he finally sat down at the table.

"Yeah, it surprised me because his name tag showed his full name. He didn't even bother to use an alias for his job or whatever he's trying to do. I shop at that grocery store all the time you guys and he's never been there before. Not until I received this job, it's like he wants to be found or something," You told the team your rambling thoughts and they listened.

"What if Michael Holt isn't really who says he is? He had some run ins on our previous agent when she was growing up, but what if he has been lying all along? We all know how dangerous he is right? I'm not exactly sure how I'm wording this correctly, but what if Michael Holt is an international serial killer? We have a whole list of those, Hotch. He's had ties with Giles and god, who knows else. This could be a long shot, but I just don't see where else this is heading. Maybe I'm just rambling my thoughts here, but you have told us to go with your gut feeling. This is definitely a gut feeling," Morgan explained to the team. You watched as everyone sat and pondered the concept for a couple of minutes.

"France," Spencer chimed in out of the blue.

"What about France, Reid?" Rossi asked.

"That's where Giles was taking our last agent and your postcards on your desk, Y/N. You've been to France, recently right? Before all this stuff with Holt went down, am I right?" Spencer stood up and took a small notebook out of his pocket.

"Yes but-," You were about to concede in the conversation, but Garcia interrupted you.

"Prentiss, we need to let Prentiss know that Holt or whoever this guy claims to be is back. There's got to be some type of connection between our team in France and with us," Garcia said as she instantly pulled out her cell phone.

"Who's Prentiss? You guys have a connection in France? I-," You were doing your best to cover up your confusion but everyone was talking in a small huddle or getting ready to make a phone call.

"She used to be an agent on this team before she transferred over to the office in Paris, excuse me," Hotch had a phone in his hand and was about to leave but that's when the cabin's power went out with no warning.

"You guys," You couldn't help but whimper. This power outage was no mere accident, there was someone close by.

"Please tell me this is some weird coincidence," Garcia was barely audible.

"Everyone stay low and armed, don't make a sound. I'm going to send a message to those still at the office to see if they can help," Hotch whispered as everyone got to the floor. At this moment, you could deeply testify and say that goosebumps did exist.

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