The Intelligence Control and Analysis Program

Chapter 10

"Garcia," Hotch grunted out the word, one arm stretched across her middle and pushing her back into the seat she was trying to leave. "Do I need to get the handcuffs? Because I will."

Garcia glared viciously but stopped trying to stand up, folding her arms over her chest.

Hotch wasn't satisfied. "Do I need to get handcuffs, Miss Garcia?" He stared her down, demanding a verbal response.

"No," she snapped.

"Good." Hotch nodded his acceptance of the reply. "Now, if we could focus on the case, I am certain Doris Archer would appreciate it."

JJ cleared her throat to break the layer of awkwardness that had formed over those who could only sit back and observe the battle of wills. "Right. Once we land, we're going to meet with Sheriff John Fordham. They have been gathering the friends and family of all three victims, so we'll need to interview them. They already processed the crime scene, but they left it otherwise untouched for us."

Hotch gestured to Morgan before the last word left JJ's lips. "You and Genius go to the last abduction site and see if anything points to his MO; Prentiss and JJ, interview the friends and family members; Dave, look into the women's lives outside of social media. He could be locating them online but contacting them in some way that won't show up on their pages."

Rossi nodded in response to the order, but he wasn't really paying attention. He was analyzing Garcia—her body language and micro-expressions—and replaying the encoded exchange in his mind. Most of it still made no sense to him, but he thought he might have been piecing together part of it.

"Coffee?"

"Straight."

Rossi had a theory. He was almost positive Genius told Garcia that the team, namely Hotch, was straightforward. Genius could have said 'black,' and as far as coffee went, it would have meant the same thing. Straight had other connotations—be straight with me, give it to me straight, straight up now tell me are you really gonna love me forever, and so on.

Hotch was definitely straight coffee.

No sugar-coated words, no mixing in cream to disguise the bitter darkness. Only truth, regardless of how hard it was to swallow, and a clear set of standards and expectations. With Hotch, the phrase 'what you see is what you get' had never been more accurate.

Unfortunately, Hotch was too involved in the case to notice the way Garcia scrutinized him while he wasn't looking, trying to figure out where her boundaries were. She wouldn't know how straight Hotch really was until she had claims to compare his actions with.

So, Rossi lent a helping hand, because he was nice like that.

"What about you and Garcia?"

Hotch gave Rossi an odd look, confused but willing to answer. "Garcia and I are going to take a walk and discuss some things." He frowned slightly, but he trusted Rossi enough to cooperate without an explanation. "We'll join you at the station when we're done."

Rossi nodded, as if the question had actually been for him, and turned his attention to the window. Better brace yourself, Boise. You've got a storm coming.

***

Hotch tacked the last picture on the evidence board and turned to check on Garcia. He found her clacking away on her keyboard, three monitors lined up in front of her, and he let himself relax a little.

Their talk had been brief, but Garcia seemed to get the message, and other than dirty looks and middle fingers she thought he couldn't see, she wasn't acting out.