A 20 year old woman carefully walked through down the sidewalk of an upper-middle-class neighborhood. The ground was not only covered in snow, but ice as well, and she tried desperately not to slip. She wore dark jeans and a dark grey pea-coat. Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her coat to keep them warm.
The woman turned onto a sidewalk that led to a brick Victorian house, but instead of going to the front door, she turned to the path that led to the back door. She rang the doorbell and peeked through the window where the curtain was slightly open. She was expecting to see her friend come towards the door, but what she saw horrified her.
A man that she didn't recognize walked by wearing clothes that were covered in blood. He had dark hair and was headed towards the door where she stood.
The woman slowly backed up and slipped on a step, falling backwards. She tried to hold back a scream, but some sound escaped her lips. She got up quickly and walked as fast as she could towards the street, trying not to slip on the ice. She hoped that he hadn't realized she was there. She turned onto the sidewalk and walked away from the house and didn't look back until she was three houses away. When she turned, she saw the man open the door of a car across the street. He looked her straight in the eyes and then got into the car and drove away.
The girl stood frozen and as soon as he had turned off of the street, she walked quickly back towards her friend's house. When she got to the back door again, she reached her trembling hand to the top of the light fixture and retrieved the spare key. She let herself into the house and ran in; calling out the names of those that lived there.
"Noem!" she called, tears streaming down her face. "Mrs. Amira! Mr. Amira! Yitzchak! Is anybody here?" She entered the living room and cried out as she saw Mr. Amira laying face-down on the floor in the living room. She ran to his side, but could tell instantly that he was dead. The floor was soaked in blood.
"NOEM!!!" She screamed, "Mrs Amira! Yitzchak!" she ran up the stairs and found Yitzchak, who was 17 years old, in the hallway, also dead. She ran into Mrs. Amira's room and found her halfway in her closet, unmoving.
"NOEM, please be okay!" she cried out as she ran up to the third floor. She ran into her friend's room and collapsed next to Noem, who was gasping for breath.
"Oh my God, Noem," the woman exclaimed, as she looked her over. She had been stabbed several times in the abdomen and was bleeding profusely.
"Megan," Noem said while still desperate for air, "Go help my family."
"I'm calling 9-1-1." Megan said, not wanting to tell her friend about the fate of her family. Megan quickly opened her cell phone and called the police. "You're going to be okay," she reassured her friend.
"NYPD sent us this case morning," JJ said to the group of FBI agents before her. She pressed a button on a remote and a picture of a murdered woman appeared on a screen behind her. "Over the weekend, three local Jewish families were murdered in their homes; the Levin's, Weisswassers, and Amira's. A friend of the Amira family saw a man covered in blood leaving their house this morning. Her best friend died in her arms while waiting for the ambulance."
A cloud of sorrow fell over the room. Emily Prentiss spoke first.
"Did the families have anything in common, other than being Jewish?"
"They all attended three different synagogues – one reform, one conservative, and one orthodox. But," JJ said, "All the wives worked at a local Jewish Preschool. The first was Miriam Levin, the director. The second, Leora Weisswasser, was the assistant director, and the third was the Judaic Studies teacher, Shiran Amira."
"It could be a begrudged parent or grandparent," Morgan suggested.
"It's possible," Gideon said, "But this seems a bit overkill for having issues with the heads of a preschool."
"Well someone is pissed off at these people." Morgan said, "To kill three families in two days – something must have happened."
"Do they have anything else in common? Did their children go to school together?" Reid asked.
"Not really," JJ replied, "The two Levin children are in college, one locally, the other in Philadelphia. The Weisswasser family had one child that was a senior at the Jewish high school. Noem Amira attended a local community college, while her younger brother went to the Jewish high school as well."
A silence came over the room, and Agent Hotchner spoke up.
"We need to catch this guy ASAP. Given the frequency of the murders, he may be going after his next target as we speak. Everyone be ready to leave in ten minutes."
The team stood to leave, and Reid approached JJ.
"Uh, JJ, do you have the name of the witness?" Reid asked.
JJ shuffled through her papers and glanced up at him, "Samantha Townsend," she said. Reid closed his eyes and sighed.
"Is everything okay?" JJ asked, concerned.
"She's my cousin," he said softly, and walked out the door.
