"Happy almost Halloween, Hunter," Emily batted her eyelashes at me from her desk across from me.

"Happy almost Halloween, Emily," I returned the favor.

Then I looked up and saw Reid coming in through the doors. I could tell it was him because of his slight frame. Also because he was the only one I worked with who would come into the FBI wearing a Frankenstein's Monster mask and a pair of creepy gloves. He had a fake noose dangling around his neck and a paper bag with what looked like a black wig hanging out of it.

He started to growl, coming up behind Morgan. "I'm going to eat you!"

Morgan turned and jumped. I had never seen him this uncalm, uncool, and uncollected. Emily and I were laughing.

"Reid," Morgan grunted in an annoyed tone.

"Happy All Hallow's Eve, folks," Reid said in his normal voice. He lifted the mask up onto the top of his head so we could see his pretty face. "To paraphrase from Celtic mythology, tomorrow night, all order is suspended and the barriers between the natural and the supernatural are temporarily remo-o-oved!" He used a spooky voice on those last words and yanked the wig out of the bag, revealing a fake shrunken head. A ghastly moan coming out of his mouth, he tossed the head to a giggling Emily.

"See, that right there is why Halloween creeps me out," Morgan leaned back in his chair.

"You're scared of Halloween?" Reid furrowed his brow.

"The Derek Morgan is scared of Halloween?" I covered my fake gasp with my hand.

"I didn't say I was scared, I said I was creeped out. There's a difference there, youngsters, you should look it up," Morgan defended himself, glancing over at me too.

Reid, JJ, and I were all within a few years of each other, making us the youngest in the BAU. The doctor looked away and took off his gloves, but I smirked at Morgan.

"What creeps you out about it?" Emily side-eyed him.

"I dunno, people wearing masks," Morgan gestured towards Reid before him. "I don't like folks in disguises."

"That's the best thing about Halloween," Reid seemed unable to conceive of Morgan's comment. "You can be anyone you wanna be."

"Nah, I'm pretty good just being me."

"Yeah, why is it that neither of those points of view surprise me?" Emily cocked her head, looking at me.

"You know what, though? On the flip side, it does provide a pretty good reason to cozy up with a scary flick…and a little Halloween honey," he winked at me.

"Ew," I grimaced. "Halloween honey? That-ew, now I'm creeped out."

Reid looked over at the doorway. "Guys, he's here," he whispered.

We'd heard murmurs recently that someone was going to be coming in to fill up our open slot in the unit. I never heard who it was going to be, but it seemed like Reid knew more than I did. I looked over and was utterly surprised at who was following Erin Strauss, our bitchy blonde Section Chief.

It was David Rossi. He and Gideon had helped in creating our unit back in the day. He was also a personal hero of mine. I'd seen him speak, read all of his books, and even met him once at a book signing when I was still in college. There was no conceivable way he would remember me, but I could never forget him. He was the reason I joined the FBI and got involved in crisis negotiations. He was also a big part of why I joined the BAU when Hotch offered me the position.

Reid hurriedly took his mask off his head, revealing his chin-length curtain of light brown hair, but I think the damage was done because Rossi had made eye-contact with him, smiling as he passed by. For some reason I raised my hand in a pathetic attempt to wave. He locked eyes on me and nodded, continuing on his way.

My cheeks started to feel warm. I had forgotten how much handsomer he was in person. The last time I felt this way was when we went to LA to investigate the stalking of an actress named Lila Archer two years before. On that case Reid got a little up-close-and-personal with the pretty blonde. I found myself flirting with the lead detective on the case, Owen Kim. We had exchanged numbers, but nothing really happened.

Strauss led Rossi up to Hotch's office. JJ entered the office shortly after Strauss left, then the young woman came down to our level to let us know about a new case she was going to debrief us about.

"Wow, that's really him," Emily said, bouncing her dark eyebrows.

"Live and in the flesh," I craned my neck and looked into Hotch's window. He and Rossi were about to come down.

"SSA David Rossi," Hotch introduced as they came forward.

We all stood up. Reid shed the remains of his costume. I fiddled with my long brown hair, feeling underdressed in my jeans and blouse. Rossi was also wearing jeans, along with a brown suit jacket, but he was David Rossi.

"This is SSA Emily Prentiss," Hotch continued.

"Sir," Emily shook his hand enthusiastically. Rossi had a friendly smile on his tan face.

"SSA Derek Morgan."

"It's an honor, Agent Rossi," Morgan shook his hand.

"Please, just Dave," Rossi corrected.

"Dr. Spencer Reid," Hotch said.

"Sir, i-i-if I could talk to you later about your work with the Scarsdale Skinner," Reid began. The smile began to fade from Rossi's face. "Ps-Psycholinguistics is an incredibly dynamic field, and the fact that your profile of his reading habits ultimately led to his capture is something I find so incredibly intrig—"

"Reid, slow down. Uh, he'll be here for a while," Hotch interrupted. "You can catch up with him later."

"Sorry…"

"No problem, Doctor," Rossi smiled again.

"Maybe you guys can talk on the jet," Hotch suggested.

"Oh, yeah, that'd be great," Reid nodded.

"The jet?" Rossi echoed.

"We have a jet now," Hotch told him.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, it comes in pretty handy," Hotch then gestured to me. "And this is SSA Hunter McCarthy, the protégé you never knew you had."

I pursed my lips at Hotch. I had wanted to act cool around Rossi, but he was acting like an embarrassing dad. I wondered what he'd be like when his son, Jack, grew up.

"Protégé, huh? We'll also talk later," Rossi stepped closer and held out his hand. I couldn't hold back my smile.

"If you can get Reid to quiet down," I snickered, squeezing his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

Rossi nodded, bowing his head down a bit before we let go of each other's hands. He looked to Hotch, as did I.

"JJ is waiting," the unit chief said, leading the way to the round table room. I filed in after Emily and heard Morgan give Reid a light smack on the head.

JJ was putting notepads and pens down on the round table when we got there. "Carrollton, Texas is a suburb just outside of Dallas," she said as we all grabbed a seat, except for Rossi, who was taking in the sight of the room. "Four days ago, Michelle Colucci found this flier on her front door."

She used her remote to put a picture up on the big screen. There was a picture of a blonde woman running her fingers through her hair as she looked off to the side. Above her head it said, "HAVE YOU SEEN ME?" I cocked my head to the side just as Rossi took the seat beside me. He smelled amazing—just the right amount of cologne.

"She found it?" Morgan said incredulously.

"Meaning she wasn't actually missing?" I asked.

"Yet. She took the flier to a friend's husband, Detective Yarbrough, at the Carrollton PD, who told her it was probably just a Halloween prank, and he sent her home," JJ told us.

"Well, I don't blame him. Halloween brings out the fool in everyone," Morgan glared pointedly at Reid.

"Still, he stopped by Michelle's house later to check up on her," JJ continued. "The door was open, and when he went inside he found this." She turned and clicked the remote again, showing us pictures of Michelle's dining room. The red walls were plastered with copies of the fliers. "Still thought maybe it could be some kind of a prank, until yesterday." She clicked the remote and showed us a picture of a naked woman lying face-down in the water. "Michelle was found floating in a small creek just outside of Carrollton. She had been sexually assaulted…" Another remote click. I was almost taken aback by the gruesome picture that came up. "…and her face had been removed."

"Removed?" Rossi questioned. "It wasn't animals or fish?"

"The Dallas County ME said that the edges of the wound were smooth, not torn," JJ explained. "A very sharp instrument had been used. He also found water in her lungs."

The door opened and I looked up to see a horrified Garcia. "Oh my God! What is that?" she covered her bespectacled face with her manila folder.

"Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia, this is SSA David Rossi," Hotch introduced.

"Is it gone?" Garcia ignored him. "JJ?"

The liaison switched to a picture of a half-eaten meal. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're safe," JJ made a face and sat down between Morgan and Prentiss.

"Okay," Garcia calmed down a little, but was still clearly skeeved out. "Just to…um… Uh, Carrollton, Texas has nearly a hundred and seventeen thousand residents," she handed her folder to Hotch. "A diverse population with a… Well, it's all in there. I'm sorry." She perked up and approached Rossi with her hand out. "Very happy to meet you, sir. I'll be in my office." And with that, she left.

I tried to hold back my grin. That was a palpably awkward moment. Morgan rubbed his forehead out of secondhand embarrassment. I could practically feel Rossi's confusion beside me.

"Sorry," Garcia came back and closed the door.

"She's different," Rossi said to Hotch.

"You have no idea," I chewed my lip, bouncing my eyebrows. I could feel Rossi's brown eyes on me, but I refused to look back at him. I could feel my cheeks getting warm again.

"Uh, so the unsub tells her she's going to go missing to psychologically torture her, then tortures her physically. Textbook sadist," Emily said.

"A sophisticated one," Hotch gestured to the screen, which was showing the dining room again. "That's elaborate."

"Number one," Morgan was looking at a picture from the file.

I looked through mine and found what he must have been talking about. In the middle of Michelle's dining room table was a white mask with the word "one" written on the forehead in red ink. It was displayed like a centerpiece, surrounded by more fliers.

"Uh, that particular mask is known as a false face," Reid said, looking over my shoulder. "It's most commonly worn during Halloween and Mardi Gras."

"Creepy. I rest my case," Morgan looked at Reid again.

"False face," Hotch echoed.

"Her face? Uh, he mocks it, then destroys it?" Emily suggested.

"Oh, and Hotch," JJ sighed. "Ugh, local media has the story. It broke big."

"Tell Carrollton we'll be there first thing in the morning," Hotch ordered. "Let's stop this one at one."

"Yes, sir."

Hotch turned to Rossi. "If you want to take some time, get situated, maybe start on the next case?"

"I'm not back to get situated, Hotch. I'm here to work," Rossi told him.

"Everybody get your things together," Hotch said to us all as we stood up. "We're going to Texas."


I noticed that Rossi was sitting as far back in the jet as possible, looking down at something in his lap. I thought I'd seen him pull out something gold earlier. He seemed lost in thought.

"Do we all smell?" Emily muttered across the aisle to me in a funny voice, gesturing toward Rossi. She was sitting with Reid at the table, while I was on the couch, not too far from our Special Agent in Charge.

"Let's go over victimology," Hotch said before I could respond with anything more than a grin. "Would you like to join us, Dave?"

Rossi tossed his file down and got up, almost begrudgingly. He came to sit on the couch next to me and I noticed he had a notepad and pen in his hand. I slung one of my knees over the other and opened up my file.

"Reid, what have we got?" Hotch asked.

"Uh, Michelle Colucci was single, lived alone, no boyfriend, and no ex-husband," Reid said.

Beside me, Rossi was scribbling down in his notepad.

"Dating?" Emily asked.

"There's nothing in the reports," I shook my head.

"She was an architect. Friends and co-workers say she's a classic workaholic," JJ added. "Basically a loner who rarely went out of the house."

"So she's extremely low-risk," I deduced. "If it wasn't someone she knew personally, it's possible she was being stalked."

"Interesting," Rossi said.

"Sorry?" I cocked my head.

He looked up and saw that we were all staring at him. "Oh, I-I'm just thinking out loud."

"Something to add?" Hotch asked.

"No. Sorry to interrupt," he smiled wistfully.

"Well, she's pretty," Morgan shuffled through photographs. "It could be that the unsub met her casually and…made her part of some kind of fantasy."

"And he tries to act on it and she rejects him?" Hotch added.

"So he tortures her…out of anger?" Emily shrugged.

"Masks often represent a state of mind," Reid told us. "This one's blank, expressionless. Doesn't really coincide with anger."

"Reid, it's hard to imagine he did this out of anything less than rage," Morgan held up a picture of Michelle's face (or lack thereof).

The computer on the table beeped and a video chat window of Garcia popped up.

"Hey, guys," the quirky woman said.

"What's up? You got something for us?"

"A list of Michelle Colucci's clients. She designed office space. Mostly big corporate remodeling plans," Garcia informed.

"No private clients, one-on-one contact?" Hotch asked.

"Doesn't look like it, no."

"Thanks, baby girl," Morgan reached over to prepare to click out of the chat window.

"Yeah," she said before hanging up.

Beside me, Rossi was still writing down in his notepad. I didn't look down at his words, but I glanced back up at Emily and made a face.


We filed into the Carrollton Police Department after JJ and met a tall man at the fax machine.

"Detective Yarbrough?" JJ addressed him.

"FBI?" he responded, holding up a new 'HAVE YOU SEEN ME?' Only this time, it was of a brunette woman. "We got another flier—this time Metro Dallas." We followed him on his way back to his desk. "Enid White. Her roommate called Dallas PD this morning. Enid never came home after walking her dog last night."

"So she is missing," Reid said.

"Well, he wallpapered the neighborhood with fliers for two blocks around their apartment," Yarbrough added, giving the one in his hands to Hotch.

"Outside, that's different," I put my hands on my hips.

"No one saw him putting them up?" Emily furrowed her brow.

"Dallas PD is still canvassing, but nothing so far," Yarbrough shook his head. "They're waiting for you on the new scene."

"Mind if I keep this?" Hotch asked.

"Not at all."

"Morgan, you, McCarthy, and Prentiss go to Michelle Colucci's house. JJ and I will talk to Enid's roommate. Dave, do you mind walking the disposal site with the detective and Reid?" Hotch asked.

"Whatever you need," Rossi offered.

"We'll regroup in an hour."


I stepped out of the Suburban with Morgan and Emily. We met in the middle of the street and looked at the small neighborhood.

"These houses sure are close together," Morgan pointed out.

"Yeah," Emily started walking toward Michelle's place. "So how do I get a woman out of her house without anyone seeing me?"

"He must have been watching her for a long time and knew that it was safe," I put-forth.

"There isn't a lot of cover on this street," Emily pointed out. We turned and stared into the street, imagining how it might have been the night Michelle was kidnapped.

"I have a vehicle," Morgan said, role-playing as the unsub.

"Big enough so I can watch without being seen," Emily said.

"But not so big as to draw attention to itself," I added, picturing a sedan parked outside of Michelle's house.

"No, neighbors will notice a strange vehicle parked outside of her house day after day, night after night," Emily said.

"It's human nature. You would notice something out of place in your own neighborhood," I sucked on my upper lip.

"And you would definitely notice a man repeatedly standing on your street."

"Yeah, it just doesn't make any sense," Morgan sighed and we all turned around to look at Michelle's house. "He didn't watch from here."

We went straight to Michelle's backyard and looked around. I was standing with Emily by the pool, trying to figure out what the unsub's vantage point was. Morgan had ventured into some of the shrubbery.

"This is where I'd wait," his disembodied voice said.

"Yeah," Emily looked back. "I'd never be able to see you from the house." I followed her to the shrubs and met Morgan, who was now standing up.

"Prentiss, Mick," he pointed at several pairs of footprints in the soil.

"He was here a lot," I commented. "Watching everything she did."


I found myself back in the Suburban with Emily and Morgan. We were following the other Suburban and a few cop cars to the El Royale Motel where Enid White had called to say she was staying in. She'd bought a gun early that morning after running away the night before, fearing that if she called the police they'd think she was a victim of a harmless prank again. Once we'd parked, we all spilled out, guns at the ready, and approached the door of room six.

"FBI!" Hotch cried out.

Yarbrough opened the door and we followed him in. He cleared the bathroom and met us as we surrounded the bed. It looked as though it had never even been slept in—most likely, because I guess when Enid called she said that she didn't think she'd be able to stay awake. The blankets were covered with fliers, another false face mask displayed in the middle of them. This time, it had a red "two" written on the forehead.

"She's gone," Emily sighed.

We investigated with the local authorities for a while. I heard a sniffing sound in the closet and crouched down to pick up the fully-grown pug that was lying under there. I snuggled him to my chest and carried him out of the room, finding Hotch and Rossi by the door.

"I guess that solves the mystery of what happened to the dog," Rossi deadpanned.

"If only this little love-bug could tell us what happened to Enid," I frowned, stroking the canine's tan fur as he licked my cheek. A police officer came up and took him out of my arms.

"Twenty minutes," Yarbrough came down the stairs. "We were here in twenty minutes. I can't believe we lost her."

"We may not have lost her. He kept Michelle for four days," Hotch pointed out.

"But we got nothin'!" Yarbrough retorted over my shoulder.

"That's not true. Look at the difference in the scenes," Hotch said calmly while Rossi wrote in his notepad.

"What do you mean? There's the mask, the fliers…"

Emily came out from the room to my side, a flier encased in an evidence bag. "Yeah, but these fliers weren't tacked up, they were just thrown around the room."

"So?" Yarbrough challenged.

"He left in a hurry, like he knew we were coming," I piped up just before Morgan came out with a cell phone in his hand.

"Okay, this was under the bed. Nine-seven-two area code," he said.

"That's Carrollton," Yarbrough said. "The hotline number."

"She used a cell phone," Emily said.

"You can get a cell interceptor at any electronics store," Morgan pointed out.

"You can?" Yarbrough questioned.

"Yeah, they don't cost that much. He probably sat right out here and heard everything she said."

"But if he followed her here from Dallas, why wait 'til she calls us to move on her?"

"To make sure it was the police who found the mask," I told Yarbrough.

"We need to gather your men and give a profile," Hotch said.


"He's a white male. His shoeprints have been examined and put him at about five-eleven, one-sixty-five," Morgan announced before the Carrollton PD. We were all there to give the profile.

All of us except for Rossi.

"So we've narrowed it down to anyone of average weight and height," Yarbrough said in a snarky voice. I understood why was so upset—he felt like Michelle Colucci's death was his fault, and now he was getting impatient.

"Exactly," Morgan replied, unperturbed.

"There's a sophistication and patience in what this unsub does that suggests a level of maturity," Emily said. "We believe this puts his age in the mid-thirties to forties range."

"Michelle Colucci was taken from the primary crime scene and disposed of at the tertiary crime scene four days later," Reid said. "That means she was held somewhere for at least three days. You can't really just hold a victim anywhere for days on end, so he most likely has access to a house of some kind."

"He's also fairly tech savvy," I added. "The fliers were made on a computer. And it's probable that he used a device to intercept Enid White's phone call."

"Witnesses in Enid White's neighborhood say they may have seen a white man putting up fliers, but none of them could describe him," Hotch said. "Even with all the media attention this case has received."

"Great," commented a younger detective, Bowie.

"Actually, what that tells us is that there is absolutely nothing remarkable about this man. He is exceedingly average," Emily said.

"As you said, Detective Yarbrough," Morgan started. "Average height, average build."

"It extends to his professional life as well. H-He most likely works in a field where he doesn't stand out, doesn't really make a mark," Reid mentioned.

"His lack of distinction is part of his psychopathy," I folded my arms across my chest. "We have hundreds of interactions with people every day. Most of those involve someone overlooking someone else."

"Most of us don't pay any attention to being ignored," Hotch took over. "But to this kind of unsub, each oversight is intentional. Especially when it comes from the object of his sexual desire. He begins to obsess over her until she's all he can think about. And the rage builds until he has to attack that person."

"So he's pissed off that nobody notices him?" Yarbrough said doubtfully.

"'Have you seen me?'" Morgan said.

"Wait, that's not about the women?" Bowie wondered.

"No," Emily shook her head. "The masks are about the women—number one, number two. The fliers probably refer to him."

"Removing his victims' faces, uh, transfers his feelings of being ignored into a mission and it gives him a sense of power," Reid explained.

"And the power can make him arrogant, but it doesn't make him notable," Hotch said.

"So how the hell do we catch an invisible man?" Yarbrough asked.

"I'm pretty sure we can get him to contact you."

"What?"

"Well, the crime scenes show he wants to deliver his message to the police," I said. "He isn't going public."

"Hopefully by playing on his anger…" Hotch trailed off, looking up at a TV playing the news. The anchor was delivering breaking news that I couldn't hear, but I could definitely see the white mask in the upper right corner. "JJ, how'd they get that?" asked a crestfallen Hotch.

"Not from me," she said defensively. "I—Hotch, I called all the local police departments and I stressed withholding the mask."

"I called 'em," said Rossi as he filtered in, gesturing to the TV above his head.

I furrowed my brow. Emily and I exchanged glances. What the hell is he doing? I thought to myself.

"What?" Hotch asked.

"I said the FBI thinks the masks mean he's impotent," Rossi put his notepad in the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

"Can I speak to you for a second?" Hotch asked softly, ushering him out of the office.

I leaned into Emily's ear as JJ got a phone call, "They say never to meet your idols."

"I wonder why," she deadpanned back.

"Okay. Thanks," JJ muttered into her phone before hanging up. "Garcia found something."


We sat at a table in an office room. Rossi was staring at the evidence boards we'd created while Morgan dialed Garcia's number and put her on speaker.

"Garcia, talk to us," Morgan said.

"Michelle Colucci recently drew up the plans for a remodel of three floors of a company called Techco Communications. It's a high-tech communications company in downtown Dallas," she told us.

"And Enid White?" Hotch asked.

"Worked there until two months ago."

Yarbrough came into the room. "He's on two."

"The unsub?" Hotch asked.

"Demanded to speak to the FBI."

Rossi clicked onto line two of the phone, "This is FBI Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi."

"You called me impotent," said a quiet, but angry voice.

"Did I?"

"I am not impotent."

"Why are you whispering?"

"You lied. You lied."

"Is someone around you? Are you at work?"

"You have to tell the news the truth."

"I'll get you on the news and you can correct me yourself."

"No. You, you, you correct it."

"By the way, I was, um, looking at the police security tapes for the day Michelle Colucci went missing."

"What?"

"You watched her long enough to know she didn't have visitors. She was a loner. Yet you knew that Detective Yarbrough was coming over. You must have been right here in this station," Rossi finally sat down, "when he told her. Now, your face is gonna be on one of those tapes. And when I find it, I'm gonna paper this city with it. Just like you did with those women. Everyone will see it. They won't be able to ignore you now. But you won't inspire fear…"

Hotch looked like he was about to put a stop to the phone call. I wondered where Rossi was going with this. His voice was getting angrier with each word.

"…You'll inspire hatred and ridicule because the only power someone like you has is a mask."

Hotch held up his hand, but Rossi pointed a finger.

"And once that mask is removed, you'll be as insignificant as you've always been—a loser!" Rossi concluded, leaning away from the phone.

I looked around the room, waiting for a response. Morgan looked shell-shocked. I think I speak for everyone when I say that this was not the way to go.

"You just signed Enid White's death warrant."

It sounded like the unsub crumpled up a bunch of paper before hanging up on us, the dial tone sounding shortly after.


"Lieutenant, I need you to lock the Techco building down tight. Nobody in, nobody out. It's vital," Hotch said into his walkie-talkie from the passenger side. I was driving our Suburban, sirens blaring as we followed the other marked cars.

"Rossi, you really think the unsub's still gonna be there after that call?" Morgan asked from the backseat.

"Of course, he thinks he has all the time in the world," Rossi replied from beside him.

"You think they got an image off the police security camera yet?" I asked.

"The security camera doesn't work. I lied about that," Rossi admitted.

"You lied about that?" I echoed.

"He doesn't know."

"Dave, that was incredibly reckless," Hotch admonished him.

"Hotch, he didn't weigh the body down well."

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't want Michelle found so quickly. He screwed that up. This kind of guy, when he plans something, if he has the time, if he's in control, he's meticulous. But being on the edge of the river, out in the open, he was not in control, he was in a hurry. And he made a mistake."

"That's what you're hoping," Morgan cut in.

"Trust me, with an unsub like this, you need to throw him off his game. His hand needs to be forced," Rossi said confidently.

"I know that, Dave, but the point is, you did it by forcing ours," Hotch said.


We entered the glass doors of the Techco building and found the lobby to be consumed with workers.

"Is the building sealed?" Hotch asked the lieutenant.

"Top to bottom," he replied.

"Yarbrough, uh, make sure it stays that way," Hotch said as he pulled out his phone. "Garcia, which floors did Michelle Colucci remodel? … Got it, seven, eight, nine." He hung up. "Morgan take seven. We're looking for a rank-and-file employee who made a scene in the last twenty minutes or was here and gone. Prentiss, eight. Reid, nine. Don't approach him, just…try to get a name, maybe a picture. McCarthy, you're going to be down here with us."

I nodded and watched as my teammates headed for the elevators. I looked around at the people mulling around the lobby. I had an inkling that the unsub wasn't going to be upstairs.

"He's somewhere down here," I said. Rossi flashed his eyes to me, as if he were having similar thoughts.

"What?" Hotch asked.

"Can't you feel it?" I glanced back at my chief before scanning the crowd.

"Display your credentials," Hotch said. I followed his orders, pulling mine out of the back pocket of my jeans while he and Rossi grabbed them from inside their jackets. "FBI."

"He thinks we know what he looks like," Rossi said.

Hotch also pulled out the flier of Enid White and pretended to give it a thorough once-over, handing it to Rossi, who gave it to me. We continued to pass it around, making sure to look up and see if the unsub was panicking or reacting in some other way. We even started to walk around too, hoping to provoke him.

"There," I whispered, noticing a man who appeared to be pacing nervously. We watched as he began to walk off towards the elevators. Rossi and I started to follow him while Hotch picked up a phone call.

"Sir," Rossi put a hand on his gun, drawing it when the man ignored him. I also pulled out mine. "Sir."

"Max Poole," Hotch came up behind me with his Glock at the ready. This stopped the unsub dead in his tracks. "We have your address, Max, there's no place to go."

"This is Agent Rossi, Max. If you do what you're thinking, you won't get to tell them I lied," Rossi said. "Come on, Max. Slowly put your hands on top of your head."

"Listen to him, Max. I know what you're thinking and you don't have to do it," I piped up, knowing he was probably going to commit suicide, most likely by us.

"It doesn't have to end here, Max," Rossi added. "Please."

It looked like Max was about to pull something out of his pocket as the elevator opened up beside him. Morgan stepped out and Max drew his weapon. I raised my gun, seeing Hotch's in my periphery.

"DOWN!" Hotch shouted, causing Morgan to get on the ground, drawing his own gun as he slid onto on his back.

But it was Rossi who fired the two shots into Max Poole.

I stepped over Morgan's legs and crouched down beside Poole. He was on his back, his eyes wide open. I snatched the gun out of his grasp to be safe, putting my fingers on his neck. Then I looked at Morgan, who was catching his breath.

"You okay?" I asked, genuinely concerned. Morgan and I were pretty close friends.

"Yeah."

"He's gone," I reported to Hotch, not feeling a pulse from Max Poole.

"What about Enid White?" Yarbrough asked, coming over to the scene.

"We have his home address," Hotch told him.

"Is she there?" the detective asked.

"Let's hope so."

I stood and extended a hand to Morgan, even though there was no way he'd need my help to get up. He humored me and I pulled him up to the best of my ability. He let go and followed Hotch as he and Yarbrough walked away. I looked over at Rossi, who was staring at Poole's corpse. It was as if he was in contemplation. I stepped towards him and put my hand on his shoulder.

"Come on," I cocked my head and followed Morgan.


By the time we found Enid White at Max Poole's house, it was dark and the kids of Carrollton, Texas were out trick-or-treating. I stood with Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan, handing out candy across the police tape. JJ was speaking to the press while Hotch and Rossi stood off to the side, watching Enid get carted onto an ambulance.

"Have we decided if we like him or not?" Emily gestured over to Rossi.

"He may not be the best team player, but he didn't hesitate to save Morgan's life," I told her, handing a Reese's Cup to a girl dressed as a fairy. "I say we give him a chance."