Well, here it is. Chapter three. Hope ya love it.

COUER D'COUERS

Hotch and Rossi led the BAU team, minus Garcia and JJ, who were at the police station squealing at how amazing the computers were (Garcia) and checking for any possible previous murders in the database (Jennifer Jareau and eventually Garcia), to the last crime scene. Before they approached the police, Hotch said over his shoulder, "Reid, Emily, you go talk to the witness," he said, motioning at the giant pie. The glare from the neon lights was a little bit painful to look at, so he guarded his eyes a bit with his hand.

Reid and Prentiss walked forward, leaving Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch behind to talk to the police and check out the crime scene. A short blond woman was standing pressed against the window, watching them approach from behind Venetian blinds. Spencer Reid was used to odd behavior, but that was weirder than usual. He started to try to get his fellow agent's attention, but by that time the blinds flew back into place and the two of them were at the door.

Emily started to open it, and was immediately accosted by the same woman. "Hi there, welcome to The Pie Hole! Our pie of the day is triple berry, and our expresso machine is now in working order-" At that moment, Digby ran forward and started barking at Reid. He paled and flinched.

"Aren't there laws against having a dog in a bakery?" Reid asked, not liking the fact that another animal wanted to attack him.

"Actually, no," she began; both agents could now see her nametag, which read 'Olive', "only in restaurants. But don't worry about Digby, he's a good dog. Aren't you, boy?" she asked, reaching down to pet him. At that point Digby chose to growl at the awkward man and run to the back. Reid cowered slightly until the golden was out of sight. Olive walked around behind the bar section of the bakery, and the two followed. "So what can I get you folks today?" she asked, her mega-watt smile on her face.

"Agents Emily Prentiss and Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI," Emily said, pulling out her badge; Reid quickly fumbled to do the same. "We'd like to talk to Ned-"

But Olive started talking before Prentiss could finish. "I can't believe it! You are way too pretty to be in the FBI. And look at you!" Olive said, leaning forward to pinch Reid's cheek. Reid leaned backwards. That had never happened to him on the job before. He had been mistaken for a student many times, yes; but this was quite different."You're too cute! Would you like some coffee, or some pie?"

Emily looked over at Reid. The poor kid looked like he'd been violated. "Ma'am, we'd just like to speak to Ned," she stated, hoping the waitress- Olive- wouldn't try to touch Reid again.

"Is this about those people at Bittersweets? Because Ned was innocent, and you all know it, and the real killer has already been caught, so-"

Emily cut her off before she could get involved in a whole other issue. "No, we're actually here about the murder scene outside and the fact that a man by the same name as the owner of this bakery called as a witness," she explained patiently.

Olive's eyes widened slightly. "Well he's off… shaving his cat, but he should be done soon. Are you sure you don't want some pie, for the wait? Since you're solving a crime and all, I don't think that there'll be any problems with me putting it on the house." Emily and Reid looked at each other again.

"Um, we're actually here on our job, and our boss is right outside… we just need to talk to Ned," Reid said nervously. For a second, panic showed in Olive's eyes.

"I'll go get him, but you might have to wait 'til he's done. Cats don't much like to be washed. Er, shaved. Oh, look, a seagull!" Olive pointed upwards, then ran to the back while their eyes were averted.

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Am I the only one who gets the feeling she's hiding something?" she asked, slightly skeptical.

"She pinched my cheek…" Reid said, sounding traumatized.

While Emily tried to keep super-genius Spencer Reid from having a nervous breakdown, Olive was trying to retrieve Ned. "Ned! The FBI people are here," she hissed at him. Chuck looked up from the table, where she was coaching him on everything she saw. Emerson was busy trying to keep Ned from twitching, sweating, or touching his face while he talked. "They don't want pie and I don't know how else to hold them off." Charlotte Charles definitely wasn't Olive Snook's favorite person, but her aunts would be emotionally destroyed if they found out she had faked her own death to live with Ned in his bakery.

Ned wasn't ready. He was too pale, he was sweating, and his eye was twitching uncontrollably. Emerson grabbed him and dragged him roughly to the front. "C'mon, kid. We've got FBI agents to convince."

"Good luck, Ned!" Chuck cried brightly. Ned waved at her halfheartedly as both the gumshoe and the waitress propelled him forward until he was directly in front of the agents.

Reid had recovered by this point, and was now surveying the décor. The bakery had a rich, almost old-fashioned kind of feel to it. He had never seen any room furnished like it. Well, the station was a bit odd, too, but less so than this. He swiveled back and forth on the barstool until he realized a lanky, anxious-looking man approached, dragged by Olive and a rather venerable-looking black man. Upon delivering her cargo, the young woman scrambled back to the back room; however, the man stayed put.

"Hi, I'm N-Ned," Ned stuttered out as he reached forward to shake hands. His whole arm shook as he held it out.

"I'm Emily Prentiss, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid," Emily said again, flashing her badge and then shaking his hand. "Are you all right?" she asked with concern as he shoved the offending appendages into his apron pockets. Maybe the woman was covering for him because he wasn't good at talking to people, Prentiss thought to herself.

"He's fine," Emerson said smoothly. "Never been better. And you?"

"Um, who exactly are you?" Reid asked, slightly confused.

"He's a pri…" Ned faltered as Emerson made his 'no-you-idiot' gesture at him, using the pie display to screen his hands from view. "…vate uncle. Of my family," Ned finished. Emerson was strongly tempted to bury his face in his hands and sigh exaggeratedly.

Not for the last time, Reid and Prentiss's brows furrowed in confusion. They didn't want to say anything, but the man who remained unnamed was in fact black. The pie maker was not.

Ned quickly clarified. "Um, he was adopted."

Prentiss shook her head and chose to ignore it. She just wanted to get this interview over with by this point. "Tell me everything you can remember about what happened last night," she prompted.

"Um, okay. Well, I was in my house alone and not with anyone else, and I decided to look out the window, and on the street below my window a couple was walking by. Then a car parked on the street and a figure dressed in black held the woman at gunpoint. When the man didn't respond, the… figure… pulled out a knife as well. Then sh-" Ned quickly covered his blunder, but paled slightly, a seemingly impossible feat. "I mean, I- was tackled out of the way by Digby, and I got back up in time to see the abducter drop off his last abducts in exchange for his new abductees. Then I called 911, but at the time I was slightly freaked out, and sometimes when that happens my voice gets very high… just so you know… Can I go now? I have pies to bake, people to serve… you know…" With each word, his voice got a bit lower.

Reid and Prentiss looked around. The bakery/restaurant was still completely empty, other than the imposing gentleman next to Ned.

"He has a lot of deliveries," Emerson clarified, glaring at his crime-solving partner, whose eye was twitching uncontrollably. Ned quickly rubbed the offending eyeball in an attempt to mask it.

Right…

"Do you remember what the car looked like?" Reid asked, looking at the pie maker oddly.

Ned froze. He looked to Emerson, eyes widened to their maximum. Emerson shook his head imperceptibly. But Ned couldn't lie. If Chuck knew what it looked like, that knowledge could help keep more people from dying, and Ned had enough lives for three people on his conscience.

Ned quickly hit the bell he kept under the booth. "Oh! The timer for those pies which I was making earlier has gone off and now I have to check them in the back… one second!" he said unconvincingly, then ran to the back room where Chuck was.

"What did the car look like?" he asked in a panicked whisper.

Chuck's mouth fell open. So that's what she forgot. "It was a four-door gray one with tinted windows," she whispered back. "And- Oh! The plate number started with a PH, because I remember thinking PH, Pie Hole, but the rest was blocked by a fire hydrant." Ned looked horrible. He was sweating more than before, he was white as a ghost, and his eye was twitching sporadically. "I still can put on a disguise or something, Ned…" she offered, seeing how much worse he looked now and feeling terrible about it.

"No, Chuck, they can still recognize you. You are staying back here until the FBI are gone and then we're going to forget about this whole thing and someday we'll laugh about it," he answered.

"You can do this, Ned," Chuck projected as he disappeared.

Ned ran back to the counter. "It was a gray four-door with tinted windows," he said, slightly out of breath. "And its license plate started PH."

Reid wrote that down, then asked, "Who were you talking to back there?"

Ned looked to Emerson, who finally relented and helped the kid out. "Sometimes he talks to his pies."

Ned took up the strain nervously. "It's like plants. Plants grow better if you talk to them; pies bake better if you tell them how delicious they're going to be." He was only twitching slightly.

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Do your pies talk back to you often, or was that just today?"

Ned's mouth fell open. "I like to think they do," he finally managed. Emerson barely controlled his irritated sigh reflex.

Longest chapter yet! Wooo! Next chapter should be up soon… ish… Again, when I feel you are ready for chapter four, chapter four you shall have.