Two streets away from the destination, Jack turned off the siren and lights to avoid unnecessary attention. They parked outside a yellow-painted house, where according to Garcia's intel, Michael Janasco's ex-wife and son still lived, though he no longer had a place there.
Jack and Hotch got out of the car. Hotch immediately drew his gun, holding it at his side, barrel pointed down. Without a word, he gave Jack a nod, then took up a position at the front door.
Jack, drawing his Glock and enhancing his senses, circled around the house, checking for any disturbances. After confirming that everything seemed clear, he holstered his weapon and returned to the front door, shaking his head at Hotch.
Satisfied, Hotch holstered his own gun and knocked on the door. It was opened by a well-dressed white woman, her makeup flawless. If Jack hadn't already seen Garcia's intel, it would've been hard to believe she was the mother of a 14-year-old child.
"Andrea White? FBI." Hotch introduced himself, showing his badge.
"Uh, yes? What's going on?" Andrea White was visibly surprised at seeing two FBI agents on her doorstep.
"I'm Jack Tavore, and this is Aaron Hotchner. We'd like to ask you some questions about Michael Janasco," Jack said, cutting straight to the point. "May we come in?"
"Oh, sure, come in. I'll get you some tea." Andrea quickly stepped aside, allowing them in.
"No need for that, Ms. White. We just have a few questions," Hotch said as he walked into the living room, his eyes briefly scanning the family photos on the walls. He gave Jack a subtle nudge.
Jack had already used his enhanced senses to check for others in the house and had dialed his awareness back to normal. Following Hotch's cue, he looked around the warm, cozy living room. The walls were filled with family photos—some old, some recent—showing Andrea, her child, and various friends.
But something caught Jack's eye. In every stage of her son's life, one man appeared consistently alongside Andrea: Doug Summers, the scrapyard owner. Jack felt a wave of unease, his suspicion confirmed.
"I'm not sure why the FBI is looking for Mike. We've been divorced for a while now, and he's moved out," Andrea said, still uneasy but not overly alarmed.
"We need to find him as soon as possible. Do you know where he's been staying?" Hotch asked bluntly, as was his style.
"Uh, yes, he's been staying at a bar on Second Street. The bar's owner went back East and let Mike stay in the upstairs loft for now. What's this about? Has something happened to Mike?"
While Andrea answered, Jack texted the address to Rossi and the others, telling them to bring more officers. Meanwhile, Hotch continued questioning Andrea.
"Michael Janasco is a suspect in a murder investigation," Hotch said without elaborating too much.
"Mike? That's impossible!" Andrea's eyes widened in disbelief, like someone who had just discovered their pet cat was actually a tiger.
"Ms. White, Doug Summers was killed this morning," Hotch added, watching her reaction closely.
"What? What are you saying? No..." Andrea's face twisted from shock to disbelief, and then she broke down in tears.
"Why is this happening? It was all supposed to be over," she cried.
Jack put his phone away, remaining silent as Andrea wept. Neither he nor Hotch moved to comfort her; they just stood by, waiting until her sobs subsided before resuming their questions.
"Can you explain what 'over' means? We believe something about Michael Janasco's recent experiences has triggered all of this," Hotch pressed, but Andrea remained hesitant, tears streaming down her face.
Sensing her reluctance, Jack decided to be more direct. "Your son, Henry—his biological father is actually Doug Summers, isn't he?"
He pointed to the photos on the walls. "From the family records you've unconsciously displayed, it's clear that Doug has been a constant presence in Henry's life, appearing in as many photos as Michael. That's not something you can explain away as simply a long-term family friend."
Andrea broke down again, crying uncontrollably. Whether it was from grief for her lost love or the shame of her exposed secret, her makeup smeared across her face as she nodded, confirming Jack's deduction.
"So, how did they find out about all this?" Hotch asked, showing no reaction to her tears.
Sniffling, Andrea finally responded between sobs, "Two months ago, during the custody hearing, Doug confessed everything while testifying as a witness."
She seemed to collapse under the weight of her emotions, wailing uncontrollably.
"This isn't how things were supposed to go. Mike and Doug grew up together. They were best friends. I thought he had moved on..." Andrea choked through her tears. "Mike was always so gentle. He wouldn't even hurt a squirrel. I can't believe he's done this."
Jack grimaced, saying quietly, "Maybe he used to be a good person."
"Where is your son, Henry, right now?" Hotch asked, steering the conversation back to the immediate concern.
Andrea's crying stopped abruptly, her face turning pale with fear. "I don't know. Doug usually picks him up. Are you saying Mike would—"
"We're just speculating, Ms. White. Officers are already on their way to the school," Jack said, but even as he spoke, Hotch's phone buzzed with a message.
"Parker says the officers didn't find Henry at school. Someone saw his father pick him up," Hotch read aloud, his frown deepening.
"No! Oh my God!" Andrea screamed in panic.
"Ms. White, I recommend you go to the local police station immediately. They'll keep you informed of any developments," Hotch said as he and Jack hurried out of the house.
"They drove Michael Janasco insane," Jack muttered under his breath as they sped away from the house. He slammed the accelerator, the SUV surging forward as they raced toward Second Street.
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