Desiderium: longing for something that has been lost

chapter 5

it is the stillest words that bring on the storm. -- friedrich nietzche 

O.o.O.o.O.O.o

Las Vegas Police Department 

February 15, 2008

4:05 p.m.

O.o.O.o.O.O.o

Rossi walked in the station, a thing of fries in one hand. He and JJ had been out all day, bouncing from house to house, trying to figure out what it was that set these victims apart. 

The only thing in common denominator that he could see, was that they all lived in lower class neighborhoods. 

He took a fry and ate it contemplatively. He really hoped that Hotch and every one else had hit a lead because, he had come up pretty empty.

As he walked into the conference room, he noticed two things: 1). the look of shock on Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss's faces, and 2). the simultaneous grumble that three stomachs produced when they smelled the fries. 

Maybe they did find that missing lead. Or they were just finding out they missed both breakfast and lunch. 

Raising an eyebrow he sat down eating another fry. "So, what happened?" 

Hotch turned to him. "Well, all the children, except for one went to a public elementary school. We're pulling staff records dating back twenty years."

Rossi nodded. "That's great, we have a lead. But that's not something to look so shocked about."

"Yeah, well the kid that didn't go to that school, he survived. Spencer Reid."

Rossi choked on his fries. "What? We had a survivor and nobody told us?" He looked around at the three in the room. "Where is he?"

Hotch rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, see that's the problem. He was put in foster care, after all of this, and they lost track of him."

Rossi snorted. "They put a survivor of a horrific murder, while the guy is still at large mind you, in foster care and he just slips through the cracks? Shitty system, but damn I'd hope they put the poor kid in witness protection or something." 

If Hotch was surprised at Rossi's outburst, it didn't show on his face. "The eighties were a different time, Rossi as I'm sure you're well aware. I believe we are all aware that finding Spencer Reid is a priority. He can give us details and clue us in on who the unsub is." 

Prentiss, shook herself out of the shock and threw herself back into the business mode, nodded. "I'll shake down Social Services, see if I can get anything. I'm sure Garcia will be able to pull a few things up too." She hurried out of the room, already on the phone, detailing the new situation they found themselves in.

Morgan looked at Hotch. "Anymore luck with the significance of the number 17?" 

Hotch sighed. "No, now that we know we had a survivor, we now only had 15 victims." He moved the picture of the small Spencer Reid and scribbled survivor under it. "Rossi, find JJ, I need to know if she's managed to talk with any of the victim's families yet." 

As he left, Hotch took a moment and examined the picture of the small boy. He looked deadly serious, his hazel eyes staring intently at someone off-camera. Hotch gave a small smile and wondered why the boy didn't look into the camera lens. A sudden homesickness overcame him and the serious boy in the picture was replaced with his happy, laughing Jack. Swallowing thickly, he turned away just as JJ walked in. 

"JJ," his voice came out jumpy and he coughed to cover his emotions. "JJ, have you managed to contact any of the victims listed contacts?"

JJ nodded, her eyes picking up on the change on the board. "So we have a survivor?" She sounded unsure.