New story! Yay! There is a lot of "first name/last name" switching among the agents so I apologize if you are not familiar with their names! But other than that ENJOY!
"Morgan, get the team together for a meeting," I overheard Hotch say as he walked past Derek's desk. He grabbed a file off the tray sitting on the corner of the desk and continued on to the conference room. I sat up as Derek went to tell the rest of us. He gestured to Emily and JJ to follow; they were looking at a separate case file and conversing in hushed tones. JJ stood first and smoothed out her gray jacket. Her blonde hair was even brighter against the muted color of the fabric.
"Something wrong, Spence?" she asked and I snapped back to reality, realizing that I had been staring. Her blue eyes shined brightly and I noticed that she wasn't wearing too much makeup; it made her look classy.
"Sorry," I smiled and cleared my throat, "just lost in thought I guess."
She laughed lightly and nodded towards the conference room. "C'mon, Kiddo."
As we walked into the room I saw Emily rifling through a manila folder that contained some photos. Derek was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets; Hotchner stood by the window facing outside while he talked on the phone.
I pulled up a chair and was sitting down when JJ walked up to the front of the room. Derek and Emily came to attention and focused on her. I glanced over at Hotchner and heard him mumble a quick goodbye before shutting the phone and seating himself near Morgan. "Do we have Garcia?" Hotch asked.
"Right here my darlings," Garcia said over speaker phone.
JJ cleared her throat and began to speak. "We've been called in by a local police station in a suburb outside of New York City to help in the investigation of some murders that have been going on for the last year."
"A year?" Morgan asked, slightly shocked. "And they've just contacted us now?"
"Garcia, do you have information regarding the past murders?" Hotch questioned, directing his gaze to the speaker sitting in the middle of the table.
"I am pulling up the information as we speak," she replied. There was some silence from the other end as we waited for what she had to tell us.
The sound of footsteps reached my ears and I turned to see who was coming in.
"What did I miss?" Rossi inquired.
"Garcia is looking up facts from cases in the past year," I muttered quickly.
"We've been asked by a station in a town called Jefferson to assist in the investigation of some ongoing murders," JJ added.
"So nothing new," Rossi stated. He sat in a chair next to me and leaned back so the chair made a creaking noise. Folding his hands behind his head he let out a small grunt and winced. His back must be hurting him again.
"Ok," Garcia said as she came back, "the wonderful bringer of knowledge I like to call 'Moi' has found some info to share with all the worthy followers."
"Garcia," Hotch scolded lightly.
"Sorry, Sir. JJ, my dear, will you show them the picture I'm sending you?" JJ pushed a button on the small remote she was holding and a picture blew up on the screen behind her.
The screen showed a picture of a man who laid on the ground on his back with his palms to the sky. His eyes were closed and his face looked somewhat serene. He wore no shirt, and there seemed to be no markings along his muscular torso. From what I could see there was bruising and ligature marks around the neck that were a mixture of deep blues and purples.
"As you can see our victim was strangled. From what the ME reported the cause of the markings are from a wire about a quarter of an inch thick," JJ said with gestures towards the man's neck.
"Is he a John?" Prentiss asked, finally speaking.
"Negative," Garcia answered. "His name is Owen Matthews, found dead in his home in Jefferson. He was 34 at the time of the murder, which if you haven't been told yet occurred on May 17th of last year. Our next victim was found six months later right on the nose." Another picture popped up, the scene almost identical to the first. "Chet Carlson, 35, was also found in his home, this time on November 17th. Report says that he was gone by the time the paramedics got there."
"Who called the police?" Rossi piped up; he was no longer leaning back in his chair.
"Neighbors reported a disturbance around 11PM and contacted the local authorities," JJ said, her tone still even despite the images we were all seeing.
"Is that the same for both of them?" Morgan inquired.
"For the first two," she said.
"Garcia, can you pull up both pictures at the same time?" I wondered as I furrowed my brow in concentration.
"Hold your horsies, hon, there's more." At the click of the remote button two more pictures came up. "On your left is Tayten Moore, 34, and on your right is Aaron Richardson, 36. They were found within a week of each other."
"Were they found in their homes as well, Garcia?" Hotch asked, his voice firm.
"Only Mr. Moore, Sir."
"The authorities say that Richardson was found in between his home and his neighbors. They have already talked with the family and couldn't get much information on the night he was killed," JJ pushed another button and all the pictures were on the screen at the same time.
I stood from my chair and went to examine the screen more closely.
"When we land we will conduct our own interview. Morgan, you and Prentiss will go and talk to the neighbors of each victim. JJ, as soon as we get all of our information straight we can start to prepare a profile to give out to the agents of Jefferson," Hotchner ordered.
"Garcia, can you zoom in on all the victims' necks?" I asked, still staring at the screen.
"Sure can, Kiddo."
The photos of the crime scenes all zoomed in on the injured necks. In the indentation between their collar bone and esophagus was a small scrap of paper. "Does the report have anything listed as being found on the victims?"
Some silence, then, "It says here that on each body there was a small scrap of photo paper that looked to be cut from a larger piece."
"Could we have a signature?" Morgan questioned.
"Maybe," I started, "normally when UNSUB's leave something behind like this it means they're trying to send a message. Garcia, are all the pieces collected?"
"You would be right in thinking that."
I turned to the team, "I'm thinking that's what's going on here. See, I noticed that all of the victims had no shirt on, yet there were no signs of mutilation or violence towards the bodies except for the ligatures around the necks. Also, all of their hands were faced palm up."
"He wants them to feel defenseless," Rossi said.
"Can we be sure that our UNSUB is a male so early on?" Prentiss asked.
"Men tend to pick their victims on the amount of status they would receive after the kill," Rossi added. "All of our vics seem to be of the same muscular build. If they were all strangled from behind it would take a lot of force to take someone like that down."
"Maybe we're looking at a team," Morgan suggested.
Rossi shook his head. "No, this is too personal."
"Because of the picture pieces?" Morgan questioned.
Rossi nodded and looked at Hotchner. "Would you agree?"
"I think that you are probably right, but it would be unwise to rule out anything until we have all of the information."
JJ cleared her throat and we all looked in her direction. "They've asked if we could fly out today."
I glanced at Hotch and saw him exhale slowly; he was obviously tired and I wondered if he had been hoping to go home this weekend. He stood up from his chair and took in a deep breath. "Everyone grab your go bags, we take off in an hour," and with that he left the room. We all followed suit and JJ shut down the screen.
An hour later we were all sitting on the plane on our way to JFK International Airport. I had started a game of chess with Rossi and was confident that in three moves he was going to make a mistake that would allow me to capture his king. Derek was talking with JJ and Emily, and Hotchner was staring out the window, keeping to himself. I still hadn't quite adjusted to Gideon not being with us, but Rossi seemed to be taking his place rather well. He was experienced, which is just what our team needed, and he didn't hesitate when it came to making decisions.
I watched as Rossi made his move that he had been contemplating for several minutes. His fingers grasped the head of the queen and picked it up gingerly. He slowly brought it over the length of the board and set it down with a satisfied smirk on his face.
I guess I was wrong. He wasn't going to make the mistake in three moves, he made it in one. My eyes shifted around the board and I made my move rather quickly. "Checkmate."
He stared at the board for a few moments and then looked at me with his glittering brown eyes. "Are you sure there's a young man in there? I feel as if I'm playing against the grand Wizard of Oz."
"Are you calling him a sham, Dave?" Morgan asked with a small laugh.
"I'd prefer that over old and senile," Emily teased lightly.
"Did you know that during the filming of the movie Judy Garland's dress was actually pink because it made filming in Technicolor easier?" I asked everyone. Morgan stared at me and started to laugh. He shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet.
"Oh, Reid," he sighed.
I was slightly confused at why he was laughing, but I didn't let it show. I was used to this reaction from the team when I gave them information, and I wasn't about to let it bother me now.
"JJ, can you give us the rest of the details about the case?" Hotch requested, his serious tone breaking the cheery moment we were sharing. I knew that things were becoming worse since his and Hailey's divorce, but it seemed unnecessary to take out his frustration on us. I brushed those feelings aside. There was work to be done and my mind needed to be at its full capacity for concentration.
"Sure," she replied. She picked up a bag off the floor and pulled out a file folder. "Besides what Garcia already told us there really isn't any more information I can tell you," she said, flipping through the pages contained in the folder.
"I still want to know why we're just being called in now," said Morgan. I could see where his bewilderment was coming from. Normally, if we're called in for a case we are given a reason for why.
"From the looks of it it seems as if they assumed things were quiet enough for a while that the UNSUB wasn't going to strike again. Then when the second murder occurred they put all their efforts into investigating once more. When things got quiet again-"
"They went back to half-ass work," Morgan said in a snarky tone.
"Derek," Hotch scolded.
"Sorry, Boss, but this irks me. These small town stations feel like they can't do the work, but when they call us things will magically work out. Sometimes it's like we're just the last resort."
"Technically we are," Prentiss commented.
"Actually the last resort would be to call the Department of Homeland Security and the C.I.A. to come and investigate," I stated. It was important for the team to know these things. Not that I was correcting her to show superiority; I hold everyone on this team at the same level as me.
"I still find it suspicious," Morgan argued.
"No matter what we think about their actions we are here to do our job, and if that means being the people to pick up the broken pieces then so be it," Hotchner said in a manner that signaled the end of the matter.
I noticed Morgan let out a small huff as he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. I wonder what has him so upset.
When we landed at JFK we took two black suburbans and headed off to Jefferson. I sat in the lead car with Rossi at the wheel, Morgan in the passenger seat, and Prentiss next to me in the back.
"What is up with Hotch lately?" Morgan asked, breaking the peaceful yet un-awkward silence that had enveloped the vehicle.
"Studies show that with the coming of summer people are prone to be more irritable because of the constant itch to get outside," I said, giving in my opinion.
"But it feels as if there's more to it than that," he countered.
"Perhaps there's something wrong with Hailey and Jack," Emily wondered. "What do you think, Rossi?"
He sat there for a moment as we waited for his response. "My gut tells me that we should let him come to us. If we try to butt in he will only become more defensive and not let us in on what is bothering him."
Morgan rolled his eyes so slightly that at first I didn't know if I was imagining it. I was shocked that he would show that sort of disrespect towards Rossi, but then again Morgan was almost the same rank as them now. Although it still seemed out of character for him to act this way.
We pulled up to Jefferson Police Station and parked the cars near the front. Somehow we all managed to walk out in unison and the slamming of the doors sounded like a chorus of percussion instruments.
I squinted against the bright sunlight in the clear sky. Thankfully the weather wasn't on the brink of rain; better yet the brink of snow. One thing I was grateful for with spring arriving was the departure of snow. Normally I didn't have to experience the snow but the general gloominess of it always brought me down. Thankfully, around that time we are called out to someplace warm like Florida or California and don't have to deal with it.
As we walked into the small building a wave of smells hit my nose. I could detect the freshly ground bargain coffee mixed with the smell of musty paper from the basements and the scent of perspiration coming off of the burly man that stood in front of us.
"Lance Turner, head of the homicide department here at Jefferson. I saw you pull up. If you'll just follow me I'll show you where you can set up." Obviously he had been waiting to see our cars drive up to the station to be this prompt.
Hotch and Rossi were the first to follow, with the rest of us following suit soon after. As we walked I took in Turner's appearance. He wasn't overweight, but there was a definite roundness to his stomach that added badly to the typical cop stereotype. His shoes looked new, but his shirt and pants seemed weathered yet comfortable. The collar of his shirt was askew in the back, and when he turned to face us again I could see his neck begging to be freed from the suffocating grip of the dark red tie. I've never really liked the color red.
"You'll be working in here," he said, showing us into a medium sized room that had some tables, a whiteboard, and large bay windows that overlooked the highways outside the police station. I noticed a box on the table with the date of the first murder printed on the side and the second murder underneath. Obviously nothing from the last two murders had been added yet, or if it had they hadn't printed the date yet. "I asked my boys to bring everything related to Snapshot, and this is what they found down in evidence."
"Excuse me, Snapshot?" JJ asked, staring at Turner.
"That's the name the press has given this guy. Someone leaked about the picture clipping found on the bodies and the press had a field day. I tried to figure out who it was but they still haven't come forward."
"Someone who leaked the information isn't about to just come forward," I said, "they're going to try and stay hidden for as long as possible."
"What else does the press know?" I could tell JJ was getting worried. Usually when the press knows information about a case they blow it up and exaggerate every detail. This can cause the UNSUB to be on alert and go into hiding.
"We didn't give them any other information willingly. If anything else was found it done in secret or in passing."
Hotch looked at me and nodded. This has happened before. I nodded back and stepped out of the room. "Excuse me for a moment," I said softly to Lance as I strode past.
Once I was out of the room I whipped out my cell and dialed Garcia's number. She picked up on the first ring.
"Madame Penelope's fountain of truth, how may I help you?"
"Hey, Garcia, Hotch asked me to call."
"What can I do for ya sweetie?" she wondered in a honey-sweet yet down to business tone.
"It seems as though the UNSUB has been given a name by the press and the lead agent doesn't know which one of his people let it leak."
"Youch," she hissed.
"We asked Turner, that's the lieutenant, if any other information had been let out, but he said he isn't sure. Could you..." I trailed off, knowing that she would probably guess what Hotch had asked of her.
"You want me to look at the newspapers from the dates of the murders for any mention of this guy and pass it on." It was so easy to work with someone like her.
"That'd be great," I finished.
"What are the press calling this guy?"
"Turner says that they started calling him Snapshot because of the picture that was found on each victim."
"How original," she said dryly.
"That's why this group doesn't work in Quantico," I teased.
"Oh, Reid! You just slide right in and make the strike!" she laughed lightly.
"Well?"
"Ok, I'll get back to you guys as soon as I find anything!"
"Thanks, Garcia, you're the best."
"I know I am," she sang before the line went dead. I slid the phone back into my pocket and went back into the room. Lance was still there; I noticed his hands on his hips and his foot tapping impatiently. From what I could tell it was more of an anxious tap than one out of annoyance. Hotchner was talking with Rossi; Derek, JJ, and Prentiss were all looking through the box of evidence brought up by Turner's boys. When I entered the room Lance looked up at me and left the room, touching my arm in an "excuse me" sort of gesture.
Hotch looked up and cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him and he began to recap the assignments he had given before we left. "Morgan, you and Prentiss can take one of the cars and go and speak with the victim's families and the neighbors. Be sure that you take note of anything that looks suspicious. Remember, it's been a year since Owen Matthews was killed and six months since Chet Carlson. These families have probably shut out any feelings that may be lingering and have rehearsed their responses towards the press and anyone who asks questions. These victims were not of low class society. They've been regarded as the defenders of their neighborhoods and may have a lot of attention drawn to them while they still lived. Be careful with your words."
Morgan and Emily nodded and walked out of the room.
Next Hotch looked at Rossi. "Dave, you'll come with me to talk with Lieutenant Turner about how we should proceed with disclosing information. It seems obvious that some of his men can't be trusted, and we need to tread carefully when it comes to what we find." He turned to JJ who went back to digging through the box. "JJ, you can stay here with Reid and attempt to organize what we have; maybe get a profile started. We won't be able to accurately pin the UNSUB until Morgan and Prentiss get back but at least we can get a decent start.
JJ nodded as Hotch and Rossi left the room. She took everything out of the box and sighed as she straightened her back. She reflexively flipped her hair over her shoulder to get it out from her face. She turned her head to face me and smiled before shrugging her shoulders. "Well Spence," she started, "we might as well get started."
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