Temporary -An Aaron Hotchner Story-

9

they were babies!! so cuteee

My apartment officially looks like I'm some obsessed stalker who's plotting their attack on the Hell's Kitchen district of Manhattan. 

I have images of Manzoni all across my windows linked to notes on him and his connection to my star Mafioso: Lionel Arabietti. 

As far as the pictures tell me, they've only met once and they exchanged a midsize manila envelope which I'm assuming held a fake passport, identification, and social security card.

 I don't have many pictures of Arabietti; he's done a good job at hiding himself, but the pictures I do have are more than enough for me to find him. Lionel grew up on the streets, he's used to slumming it and doesn't mind it when it's necessary, but there were things in his life that were going to bring me to him. 

The first being his spoiled rotten sister Christiana.

 She can't live without her newfound luxuries and sooner or later when she blows through her money she's going to have to reach out to her brother and bitch and moan until he inevitably gives in and leave whatever rat hole he's living in. 

Gary, our tech analyst, is keeping a constant wire tap on any movements from Christiana; wire transfers, phone calls, emails, text messages, withdrawals, purchases, deposits, even if she sends a carrier pigeon Gary's going to be the first to know about it. 

I sigh as I look over at the clock on my lamp table and read 2:56am. 

Oh. 

I guess my covered windows don't really let me tell what time it is. The only windows that aren't completely covered in my apartment are my bedroom windows and that's only because I refuse to have these men's eyes on me while I sleep, even if they are just photographs.

#

My ringtone jolts me from a nightmare and I answer it before even looking at the Caller ID "Dr. Reid" I greet whoever's on the other line and Gary tells me She called him.

That's all I needed to hear. 

"Give me the info, Gary" I demand as my stomach protests but I rush out of bed and out to the living area where I grab a thick black marker and listen for Gary's voice. 

She called him at 1am Milan time. I think she was probably trying to score some coke or buy some drinks at a bar. She called a disposable phone so I couldn't trace it, but he went to the ATM by the E train entrance and withdrew $11,000 from an account belonging to a Paul Everette. 

I scribble as quickly as I can wherever I find space and write Paul Everette - E train while Gary keeps feeding me more information 

So I did some digging on Paul Everette and about 2 months ago his life took a sharp left turn. He went from living in the Upper West Side to Hell's Kitchen with absolutely no explanation and instead of shopping at Morton Williams and Fairway he now sticks to the local bodegas and Italian markets all within walking distance of the E train. He leases an apartment at 151 Dudley and he eats at Mama's everyday at 2pm. 

I've got an address. 

A routine. 

A means of transportation. 

And his name. 

"Thank you, Gary" I thank him before hanging up and I start connecting all my notes, but there's a knock at my door and I freeze. What time is it? I look down at my phone and read 7:23AM which makes me wonder who it could be.