Ring! Ring!

Claire heard it from across the room, grumbling under her breath. When you worked for the serial killer division of the FBI, it was never good to hear the phone ring. Coffee cup in hand, she answered the phone on the fourth ring.

"Special Agent Claire McKay."

"Claire," It was her boss Randall Levinson. "I want you to get your team together and get out to Reston, VA."

"What's up?"

"They've got a serial killer, and they need our help."

Claire raised a brow, a little bit surprised. "Usually we have to push our way in, boss. What's going on here?"

"Six murders in the past three weeks, and it looks like the guy's just getting started. They want our help to stem the tide. Is that enough of a reason for you?" Claire winced slightly at the irritation in Levinson's voice. Having the boss pissed off at you was no way to start the day.

"All right. I'll take Tim and head out there ASAP."

"Good. Detective Andrew Wilson will be your contact. His number is (703) 555-1209." Without saying goodbye, he hung up the phone, leaving Claire listening to dead air.

"Bye.." She said to no one in particular before hanging up the phone and turning around to see Tim watching her intently from his desk.

"What is it, Claire?"

"We're going to Reston, some whackjob has killed six people and it doesn't seem like he's stopping any time soon. They want us to shut him down."

Tim frowned, standing up from his desk. "We should get going."

"Yes, we should." As they headed to the door, Tim spoke up. "Do we know anything else?"

"No, but I guess we'll find out when we get there." Claire pulled out her cell, and dialed as she headed for the door.

--------------------- ---------------------------------------

Without incident, they arrived at the address Det. Wilson had given them and he was outside the house waiting for them. He watched Claire and Tim with the innate cynicism of a man who'd spent years on the job. A crowd of gawkers had formed behind the police tape watching quietly.

"Glad to see you didn't get lost."

Claire ignored the comment, instead choosing to focus on the matter at hand. "Nice to see you too. Where's the victim?"

"Victims," Detective Wilson corrected. "Mr and Mrs. Winchester." He held up the tape for Claire and Tim before leading the way into the house.

When they arrived in the master bedroom, the agents could see the two bodies laying face-down on the bed in a pool of blood as Det. Wilson continued. "As you can see, they were both shot in the head." Claire walked to one side of the bed as Tim stood in the doorway.

"However," Wilson lifted Mr. Winchester's head with his gloved hand. "Mr. Winchester did not go peacefully. Whoever did this broke his nose and knocked about five teeth out."

"So this was personal..." Tim interjected, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Sure seems that way," Claire added..

Det. Wilson nodded. "That's what we thought too. But, as far as we know, Mr. Winchester didn't have any enemies."

"He had at least one, obviously." Claire straightened up, with a sigh. "What about the other victims?"

"They were all found the same way, facedown in bed, shot in the head." He recited the information from memory. "We've got all the files back at the station."

Claire nodded. "We're going to need those and your forensic evidence too."

The detective raised a brow. "What's wrong with our lab?" Tim spoke up. "Nothing, it's just that the FBI has better equipment, and Abby."

"Ab-by? What's that, some new piece of equipment?"

Claire laughed. "No, Abby's the lab tech. She's the best at what she does, especially at finding connections where seemingly none exist."

"Oh. I hope she's as good as you say she is, because you're going to need it."

Claire and Tim looked at each other knowingly before Claire answered. "Don't worry, she is."

------------------- ------------------

Some time later, Tim and Claire made their way down to Abby's lab. As the doors opened, they were greeted with the screeching wail of her music at a volume that made normal conversation impossible. Abby stood in front of her computer, pigtails bouncing. After tapping a series of commands, she spun around to see them standing there and grinned. Pressing a button on her remote, the lab was plunged into silence.

"Hey guys..what'cha got for me?"

To answer her question, they dropped the file boxes on her table. "This is all the evidence the Reston Police Department has on the serial killer who's already claimed six lives."

Abby's perpetual smile vanished, and she frowned. "Right..so what do we know?"

Reaching into his box, Tim pulled out a folder and gave it to Abby. "Six victims, all found in bed and shot in the back of the head. All but one were physically assaulted prior to their deaths.

"What we need you to do Abby, is find out why the killer chose these people. The nature of their deaths seems to indicate that whatever this was, it was personal." Claire added, "We need to stop this guy."

"But it could be random..." Abby protested, gesturing with her empty Caf-Pow. "Some people kill just to kill..like Amati, Leopold and Loeb or..."

"Abby!" Claire interjected. . "We won't know that for sure until you do your job, so get to it."

Abby stopped midsentence, nodding at Claire. "All right, but there's a lot of stuff here to go through."

"Tim will help you, right Tim?" Abby grinned, opening the other box and looking over at Tim.

"Uh, yeah." Tim quickly continued. "Of course I'll help."

"Great, so get to it." As Tim and Abby started working, Claire left the lab.

-------------- ----------------------------------

A few hours later, Tim and Abby were still at work, and Abby was slurping loudly on another almost-empty Caf-Pow.

"There's nothing here, Tim. These people had nothing in common. They didn't use the same bank, the same doctor, work at the same place.. "

He rubbed his eyes. Staring at the computer screen and attempting to puzzle out this problem was giving him a headache. "But they all got killed in the exact same way within the span of a month, Abby..I can't believe it's just a coincidence. What about the forensic evidence?"

She bounced her way over to the computer, punching a few keys. "We had two prints that don't match the victims. I'm running them now, but I haven't found anything yet." As she finished speaking, the computer flashed 'Match Found'.

"Eureka, McGee, we have it!!" As the picture flashed, Tim opened his cell and called.

"Claire, it's Tim. We've got something."

In only a couple of minutes, Claire arrived in the lab. "What do you have?"

Abby grinned. "The two prints we found at the latest scene belong to Mr. Donald Briggs."

Claire nodded. "I want to know everything there is to know about Briggs, yes-"

"Two years ago, Donald Briggs was released from prison for the murder of Angela Smith, age 18. She dumped him, and he killed her as payback. He served eight years, and got out on good behavior." Tim interjected, reading off his own screen.

"Well, it's good to see he learned his lesson. Oh wait, he didn't.." Claire sighed heavily. "So he's upgraded from killing in the heat of passion to killing for fun.." She looked from Tim to Abby and back again. "We -need- to stop this guy."

Both Tim and Abby nodded in agreement. "Address?"

"1832 Pine Street."

"Tim, you're with me. Abby, keep working. I need to know if there's a connection between these people..."

"Yes, ma'am.." Abby gave a quick salute before turning back to her computer. Claire headed for the door, leaving Tim to catch up with her.

-------------- ----------------------------------

1832 Pine Street was a simple white house on a street surrounded by similar houses. No matter how much people liked to think they were different, Claire mused, it was all too easy to be living next door to a murderer and not even know it. As they pulled up to the curb, Tim turned to Claire.

"What's the plan?"

"We go in there and arrest him." There was a slight hint of amusement in her voice. "If he's there.."

"You don't think he will be?"

"He could be sneaking out the back door as we sit here yakking." Without waiting for Tim to respond, Claire opened the door and got out of the car. With a mildly embarrassed look, Tim followed her up to the front door.

"This is the FBI! Open up!" When there was no sound from the other side of the door, she kicked it hard. It took three kicks before the door gave way. With barely a nod between them, Tim and Claire began sweeping the house. In only a couple of minutes, they'd checked the entire place. Claire's suspicions had been correct, Briggs was gone.

"Claire, come here." Tim pointed to the coffee table, on which a variety of papers and photographs were spread out.

"What is it, Tim?" He picked up one of the photos in his gloved hand and showed it to her. "Look familiar?"

"It's Mr. And Mrs. Winchester.." It looked like a surveillance photo taken outside the couple's house.

Tim nodded. "Yeah, and Mr.Winchester has his face crossed out." He looked at the other pictures on the table. "These are all of Briggs' victims, six of them."

"I knew it wasn't a coincidence. So was he tracking them."

"Yeah, it looks like he's been spying on all of them."

"Anybody there who's not dead yet?"

"Nope."

"It was worth a shot. You need to get that stuff back to Abby. Maybe she can find something we missed. I'll get the cops started on processing the house."

Drawing her cell phone, Claire called Det.Wilson.

"Homicide, this is Wilson."

"This is Claire McKay. We met at the Winchester house. We've discovered who your murderer is."

"Well, how nice of you to tell us." Although it was nice to know who the killer was, the fact that the FBI just waltzed in and found out in under a day made the police look like idiots, and the detective -hated- looking like an idiot.

Claire continued, ignoring Wilson's tone. "His name is Donald Briggs, and Tim and I are at his house. Unfortunately, he's not."

"What? You went to his house without backup? Is that what they teach you guys in the FBI?"

Now it was Claire's turn to be irritated. She wasn't an idiot either. "I had Tim. Besides, we didn't need backup because as I already told you, Briggs wasn't there. What I need is for you guys to come out here and process the house."

"Oh, so we're the cleanup crew for the FBI now?"

Claire rolled her eyes, though the detective couldn't see it. "Listen..we can leave you to find Briggs if you want. It's not my fault we did in a day what you couldn't figure out in three weeks."

There was silence on the line for so long that Claire thought perhaps she'd been disconnected. In fact, she was on the verge of hanging up when Det. Wilson finally responded. "You'll get your team." Then, without another word, he hung up.

Tim, who had been half-listening to Claire's little exchange, looked over. "Are we leaving?"

"No, Tim, we're not." She sighed, rubbing her face with her hand. "I hate dealing with local cops."

-------------------------------- -------------------

Within the hour, a forensic team arrived at 1832 Pine St, led by Det. Andrew Wilson. He stomped up to Tim, glaring.

"Where's McKay??" Tim seemed unbothered by the detective's irritation. It was just a side effect of being an FBI agent.

"She's here somewhere." Claire tapped Wilson on the shoulder.

"I'm right here."

The frusrated detective whirled to face her. "The -next- time you storm a house, you damn well better let us know!"

Claire smirked. "Or what?" Her answer only served to irritate him further. "This isn't a game. Six people are already dead."

She narrowed her eyes, and when Claire spoke again, her voice was icy. "I'm not the one engaging in a pissing contest over jurisdiction. In case you haven't noticed, we're the ones who identified the killer. Now, if you don't mind, Tim and I have new evidence that we need to get back to Abby." Claire was beginning to sound like a broken record and it was pissing her off. Tim looked from Claire to the detective before grabbing the box with Briggs' papers and following her out the door.

"Damn FBI.." Wilson muttered. The part that irritated him the most was that she was right and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

------------------------- -------------------------

Ring...Ring..

Claire answered the phone. "McKay."

"I see you identified the murderer. Now find the bastard." It was Levinson again, showing off his people skills..

"I'm fine, sir. Thanks for asking."

"You're not there for small talk, Agent McKay. You are there to catch Briggs and send his miserable ass to prison or the chair."

"Should I shoot him in the head too?" She'd been with the FBI long enough to know what her job was and how to do it. Unfortunately, the bigger the case, the more people she had trying to tell her how to do the job.

"Don't be smart, just do your damn job." With that, he hung up. Claire sighed, and hung up the phone.

--------------------- ------------------

Abby stood in front of the table where all of Briggs's notes and pictures were spread out . Picking up a sheet of paper, she started reading his notes, her brow furrowing in thought.

"Hey McGee, .listen to these notes on Mr. Winchester. 'Arrogant bastard, thinks he's better than me..'"

He picked up another sheet, and started reading. "Here are notes on the first victim, Jasmine Peterson. 'Stupid bitch..'" He paused, slightly confused. "'Who is she to be judging me anyway?'" Putting down the paper, he looked over at Abby. "Better than me, judging me...what is this?"

She frowned. "I don't know, but I think it may be the key to this whole thing.":

Suddenly, Tim had an idea. "Abby, do a search for me. Check police and court records for the names of Briggs' victims in Fairfax County."

"Of course." Turning back to the computer, her fingers flew rapidly over the keys as she customized her query. "You do know this could take a while, right?"

Tim shrugged. "It's the only lead we've got at the moment, Abby."

"Well, well, look what we have here." Abby's customized search had a hit already. "All of the victims and Briggs in one tidy place. I added his name to the search too."

"Really? What is it?"

Tim read the screen, and pulled out his cell as Abby continued reading. It took only a minute or two before Claire arrived in the lab.

"Hey, Claire." Abby bounced up from her seat. "We found the connection.."

"And?"

"They were all jurors in the Angela Smith trial."

"Briggs' girlfriend?"

"Yep."

"What about the other six jurors?"

"Well, three of them have moved out of the area since Briggs went to prison, to New York, Des Moines, and Baton Rouge." Tim replied, feeling fairly safe in his answer.

"Are they still alive?"

"I-I don't know." He admitted, thinking that perhaps he'd patted himself on the back a little prematurely.

"Then find out." Tim nodded, leaving the lab to start making phone calls as Claire turned back to Abby. "Good work."

She grinned, pleased by the compliment. "The search was actually McGee's idea, I just thought of adding Briggs' name to it."

"And the three that are still alive?"

Abby handed Claire a sheet of paper listing the names and addresses. "I knew you'd want them, so here they are."

"I want you to check on the lawyers, the judge, even the court reporter and the baliff. Who knows who else might have been on Briggs' little hit list."

"Sure thing, Claire."

As Claire left Abby's lab, she knew that forensics didn't mean shit if you couldn't catch the bad guy, and Briggs was proving to be a challenge.