CM The future I see without you

"Dear Reid,

I am very happy to tell you that last week when I went to a university exchange meeting, I visited the Louisville witness monument that you recommended for me last time. To be honest, it was very shocking.It reminds me of what Mark Gibbard said in his book 'He gave me exactly the encouragement I needed...Whether you are secular or secluded, open up a living fountain of love and joy within you. '.I'm just sorry and glad you're not here.

I don't know if you have received my gift, but there is my blessing for your love in it.

looking forward to your reply.

Maeve Donovan"

Reid folded the letter paper according to the original trace and put it back in the envelope.He bent down to open the drawer, and saw the "Confessions of John Smith" at a glance.

He sighed, took out the book and put it in his bag.

"Reid, hurry up, the plane is about to take off." Morgan reminded as he packed his things.

"Oh, I'm fine, let's go." Reid put his bag on his shoulders, looked around, and asked, "Where's Emily? Hasn't she come yet?"

"Oh, I'm here!" Emily hurried out of the fire exit, panting, and seemed to have rushed over by the stairs.

Morgan joked with a smile, "It looks like you had a great vacation, Agent."

"Hey, come on," Emily was really in no mood to joke, she leaned against the wall to catch her breath and said to Reid, "Come on, give me a cup of coffee, I feel like I'm going to die."

"Why don't you drink water?" Reid hesitantly persuaded, "Although it temporarily eliminates your fatigue and excites your nerves, over a long period of time and excessive dosage will cause tolerance..."

"Reid, Reid!" Emily interrupted the doctor's rambling frantically, and went directly to the pantry by herself, complaining in a low voice as she walked, "I don't know who used to walk around the coffee machine with a cup every day? Garcia said Half the BAU's budget is spent in your cup."

Morgan laughed hahaha, patted Boy on the shoulder vigorously, and thoughtfully made a relief, and said to the coffee maker, "Hurry up, the plane is about to take off, and they are all waiting."

"It will be ready soon. It will be ready soon." Emily picked up her bag, carefully held the paper cup in one hand, and followed her teammates into the elevator.

**

"10-year-old Sammy Keyes showed up at his elementary school covered in blood in Lafayette Parish, Louisiana. When the police arrived at his home, their parents, Charlie Keyes and Alicen Keyes, were missing. Based on the blood at the scene, they determined that at least one victim was injured. Serious injury." Hotch frowned and handed a stack of documents to Emily who missed Garcia's "Previous Story".

Emily flipped through the pages and asked, "emmm, I don't understand, why are you looking for us in this case? Well, I mean, if that kid is covered in blood, then he is most likely to have witnessed everything..."

Reid didn't speak, and pointed out the last line of the report to Emily.

"Oh, okay." Emily raised her eyebrows and said, "Autism."

"It was not easy to get him to tell us what happened," Hotch said. "That's why the local police asked us for help."

Rossi asked: "Is there a ransom demand? It could also be a kidnapping."

"Sorry, there is no news yet." Garcia suddenly appeared on the computer screen, and she said to the profilers, "But the blood test results came out, and the blood at the scene matches CharlieKeyes. So, well, I think I can assume the injury first It's him."

"The bullet casing on the door frame may be left by the bullet that shot him." JJ zoomed in on the photo from the scene, thought about it, then zoomed out, and put it on the table.

All eyes are on this photo.

"The scene was chaotic, disorganized, and it hadn't been designed," Rossi said. "And the timing was wrong, usually not before school in the morning."

"Is there anything missing from the house, Garcia?" Hotch asked.

"Well... oh, no, sir," Garcia said, "This family runs a musical instrument store, but the economy has been in recession for several years, and the house mortgage is the only source of income for this family to operate normally."

"The robber should do his homework first." After Rossi finished speaking, he suddenly asked, "Reid, what is the primary motive for kidnapping?"

"Money," Reid said.

"Then maybe the suspects are only targeting the Keyes." Hotch glanced at Reid and said, "We'll have to wait until later. Jacques should already be there, we'll go directly to meet him later."

**

Jacques got out of the car and went straight in, standing outside the courtyard of the house.

The spring wind is still a bit cold, but the bare ash branches in the community are already a little green. The victim's house has a brown-red roof, which is particularly warm and bright among the dense gray houses.

"Agent?"

The sheriff urged in a low voice, Jacques smiled sheepishly, and followed him to the house.

Jacques put on the blue disposable gloves, and with just a slight push, the door opened inward. The lock showed no signs of damage. He looked around, and the carpet near the door was soaked in a large amount of black blood. He walked along Blood stains came to an ancient black upright piano a few steps away, with a bloody handprint clearly printed on the smooth varnish.

He stopped, looking at the small kitchen at the end of the aisle, thinking quietly.

After about two or three minutes, Jacques sighed and walked upstairs.

He randomly opened a door, the walls of the small room were painted purple blue, the table was covered with drawing paper, and there was a small basket containing soft sponge toys at the corner of the bed.

Jacques knows about these things, they are specialized in the professional treatment of children with autism, and they are expensive.

He stood up just in time to see a wooden locomotive resting on the dark blue quilt.

He can touch the smooth feel of this toy through his gloves, and it can be seen that the people who built this toy are careful and love this child.

Jacques thought for a while, took a few more paintings, and went downstairs after looking at other rooms.

Several police officers from the physical evidence team were still busy collecting evidence, Jacques carefully walked around the things scattered on the ground, and asked the sheriff softly: "Where is that child? Oh, I mean, that child named Sammy, he Where?"

"Our guys left him at the station, Agent," the sheriff said.

"Can you take me there?" Jacques rolled up the drawing paper and said, "Thank you so much."

"Of course, Agent." The sheriff strode out, he asked, "AgentHotch and the others are already at the police station, have you found anything here?"

"Oh," Jacques thought for a while, and said, "the door lock has no signs of being damaged. Although the room is messy, the valuables are still there. The possible targets of the suspect are only the Keyes and his wife. And I think they should know each other."

"Oh?"

Jacques got in the passenger seat, put on his seat belt, and said: "The door locks weren't broken, and he didn't take Sammy, the Keyes with ten-year-old witnesses, because he knew the kid couldn't identify him. Even if they don't know each other, the suspect should know the family."

**

If it wasn't for knowing that Sammy had autism at the beginning, Reid would just think that he was a quiet and delicate boy.

"Sammy, hi," Reid smiled slightly, squatting beside the child, trying to slow down his tone, and said, "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. Can you tell me, what are you drawing?"

Rossi followed Reid, and saw the paintbrushes scattered on the table and the drawing papers full of strange lines. The little boy didn't seem to hear Reid's words, and just drew on himself.

Reid slowly sat on the desk, looking at the little boy. He wanted to comfort him, but as soon as he stretched out his hand, the little boy fell back in fright, screamed, and trembled all over.

Reid paused suddenly, and retracted his hand helplessly. He didn't dare to move any more. The people around him subconsciously held their breath. After a while, Sammy stopped by himself, calmed down, and started drawing again.

"It's likely that he's seen his parents being hijacked and overstimulated into self-isolation," Rossi said softly, "Maybe we should call his psych teacher over, or some other familiar relative, and at least let him... emm, no So nervous. I'm going to call Garcia."

Reid nodded, watching Rossi go out and close the door, and he turned his head to look at Sammy, who was immersed in the painting.

The little boy lowered his head quietly and did not speak. Reid sighed and tried to make his voice softer. He asked, "Sammy, we want to help you find your parents. They are..." Reid pointed Pointing to the colorful lines on the drawing paper, he asked, "Did 'L' take away your parents?"

Sammy stopped painting, there was no sadness or anxiety in his clear eyes, the boy slowly raised the paintbrush, and drew the shape of "L" in the air.

"Could it be someone with an L in the name that Sammy knows?" Rossi asked softly after returning from the phone call.

"No." Jacques pushed open the door and walked in.

Hearing this familiar voice, Reid's back stiffened for a moment, but he immediately realized that it wasn't him who peeked at the privacy, it was Jacques who should apologize. He turned his head and watched the young man approaching him step by step.

Jacques took a stack of drawing paper from his bag. Rossi took it and put it on the table, the same messy lines.

Reid coughed uncomfortably before asking, "Is this his painting?"

"Yes." Jacques put the locomotive toy in the bag gently in Sammy's hand. The little boy seemed to be comforted instantly, holding the toy in his left hand, he seemed less nervous, but his right hand was still drawing "L" .

Jacques squatted down, picked up a piece of drawing paper, pointed to the strange pattern on it, and said: "The Keyes couple started to treat Sammy with autism treatment intervention very early. I saw some things in Sammy's room, such as this picture album, He should now be in the stage of learning generalization and consolidation."

"So?" Rossi asked.

Reid knew what Jacques wanted to say, and he explained to Rossi: "The important point at this stage is the social training of high-functioning children. These pictures are actually Sammy's language. He knows who took his parents, Oh my gosh, he's been trying to communicate with us!"

"What's the L?" Rossi asked.

Jacques flipped through the booklet quickly, and finally saw a familiar pattern. He turned the page on the table and said softly, "Sammy may understand some words, but that's not the way he is most familiar with. L is not a letter." , Rossi, it's a pattern."

"Three o'clock in the afternoon." Rossi frowned, and picked up the booklet. On each page was a clock marked with time. It's a well-planned schedule.

"Some children with autism can think logically and recognize patterns that others cannot see. Constant repetition will form a fixed pattern in the person's brain, and waiting for these patterns to reappear can calm the brain. Just like this strict schedule" Reid said aside, "Sammy's parents communicate with their son through constant repetition and a fixed schedule, which can also explain Sammy's ability to be alone after his parents were kidnapped. Walk to school, look here, school starts at 45:[-]."

And at three o'clock in the afternoon, it was Sammy's time in the musical instrument store, where he would stay until closing time at six o'clock in the afternoon.

Jacques glanced at Reid. Reid understood what he meant and nodded. He adjusted the time of the watch on his wrist to three o'clock in the afternoon. The hour and minute hands just formed a standard right angle, which looked the same as the letter L.

Reid showed Sammy his watch, and asked gently: "Sammy, Sammy, look, it's almost three o'clock in the afternoon, where should you go?"

The boy slowly put down the paintbrush in his hand, his fingers describing the shape of the pointer on Reid's watch.It took him a while before he realized it, and said word by word: "It's time to go to the store."

Sammy stood up and was about to go outside.

Jacques followed him with his eyes and stood up himself.

The boy walked to the door and stopped hesitantly. This was not a place he was familiar with, and there was a strange world outside. He was like a poor lost bear, standing blankly at the door.

Jacques walked over, held out his hand, and stopped in the air.

Just as Reid was about to say that Sammy couldn't accept other people's touch, he saw the little boy raised his head suspiciously and looked at the young man quietly.

Rossi shook his head at Reid, telling him not to speak yet.

Sammy seemed to be thinking, and after a while, he carefully placed his right hand on Jacques' palm.

The big hand with clear bones gently held the immature little hand, and the young man led Sammy out.

Rossi sighed and said to Reid, "You call Emily and JJ and say we'll take Sammy over there and try to keep the store with as few police officers as possible. I'll call Hotch and Morgan and ask them What's going on with the surveillance video?"

Reid nodded, his gaze had been on the young man, and he followed him gently, like a guardian guarding his treasure every step of the way.