Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. -Carrie Fisher
There were moments when David Rossi regretted writing books. Now, he would never take writing them back. They had been a great way to past time since his early retirement life required very little effort out of him. Though ever since those books became hits, they've caused him nothing but endless trouble. Constant book signings, pressure to write the next book, endless questions from fans and reporters, and meetings with his publishing company. It took away any free time.
When Rossi got back in the field, many of those things went away. He no longer had time to write, or go to book signings, or meet up with the publishing company to discuss his next book. It was relaxing somewhat. Except where the book business left, the profiler life filled in.
Even though Rossi wasn't writing any more, he still had plenty of run-ins with his fans. They would stop him in the middle of the street, or at the store just so they could say hi and have him sign a book if they were carrying one around. It wasn't very common, but it still happened.
Today had one of those moments. He had stopped at the post office on his way to work to drop of a package. He walked into the small building. To his pleasent surprise, there were very few people here, leaving one desk completely open. He quickly headed in that direction. The worker behind the counter smiled at him when he walked up.
"Hello, sir." She said once he approached her.
"Hi." Rossi responded and handed the woman the box. She placed the box on the scale and the two waited a few moments for the weight to be determined. Finally, the numbers on the scale stopped changing and ended on 4.23 lbs.
"That'll be $14.67." The employee said. Rossi handed the woman his debit card, which she quickly swiped and returned it to him.
"Thank you." He said as the woman took the box away. He turned away and was just about to leave when a girl stopped him. She was young, maybe in her mid-twenties, with brown eyes and brown hair that was obviously dyed. She looked like a completely normal girl, except for the nervous line of sweat that was vaguely visible on her forehead and the nonstop tapping of her fingers on the book in her hands.
"Are you David Rossi?" the girl asked. Her voice matched the nervousness she was expressing through her looks. David nodded slowly.
"Yes." He voiced. The girl's stance relaxed slightly and she took a deep breath.
"Okay," She exhaled her breath, "I am a huge fan of your writing and I was just wondering if you would sign a book for me?" The girl asked and held out a copy of one of his books. Rossi took the book from her hands. It was in strangely good condition. He glanced back at the girl, who was standing there biting her bottom lip. She looked as if she would faint from nerves any moment now, which was pretty common when Rossi met one of his crazy fans. And considering how well cared for this book was, this girl was one of them.
Rossi opened the book to the first page, which only had a repeat of the title on it. He then took a pen that had been sitting unused on the counter behind him and pulled off the cap.
"So who am I signing this for?" He asked the girl. The girl stiffened and blinked.
"Huh?" She said. Rossi resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Your name? What's your name?" He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which it was when you're getting something signed.
"Oh. Um… it's uh… Noel Ravengers." The girl answered. Rossi nodded and wrote:
Keep reading, Noel.
Yours truly,
David Rossi.
Rossi then closed the book, returned the pen, and handed the book back to Noel. He started to leave finally, saying a quick goodbye to Noel and the receptionist. He walked back outside, got in his car, and then headed to work.
Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid walked out of the elevator into the office together. They were currently discussing the latest Star Trek movie they saw the day before; or in Reid's case, complaining about it. Many people would find it very strange to see two federal agents discussing a sci-fi movie, but in the BAU, it was just apart of their day.
"You do realize, Morgan," Spencer Reid said, moving his hands around as he gave his side of the argument. "That the scene where they used Khan's blood to save Kirk's life was completely inaccurate and unbelievable. It doesn't make any sense how Bones somehow knew that superhuman blood could save Kirk. Also, out of the other 72 other superhumans they have locked up, why did they use Khan's blood? It just ruined the whole Star Trek production line." Reid's voice sped up along with his hand motions. Morgan laughed and patted the young man on the shoulder.
"You know, when I took you to the movie, I thought you'd be happily talking about every amazing moment like you do with the other Star Trek films. Never had it crossed my mind that you wouldn't like it." He said. Reid's head jerked back slightly and he frowned.
"I did like the movie. I was just pointing out the obvious flaws." Reid corrected. Morgan shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"Whatever you say, Pretty Boy."
The two then separated as they reached the area where their desks were located. Reid settled down in his chair, taking his shoulder bag off and hanging it on the back. He turned to his desk, straightened a few out-of-place papers and writing utensils, and got straight to work on his paperwork. Morgan, on the other hand, sat down at his seat, turned on his computer, and pulled up his email. He went through the emails sent to him, replying to a select few and quickly throwing away some others.
Moments after the duo arrived, their fellow teammate Alex Blake walked into the office unaccompanied. As she walked past them, she gave a small smile to Reid and Morgan before taking a seat at her desk.
"Hello." She said and sat herself in her chair. Morgan returned the greeting, but the youngest teammate did not. He kept his head buried inside his paperwork, writing at speeds many would be jealous of. Blake studied Reid's appearance. He was dressed in his usual odd style and his hair was messy like normal too. The noticeable difference were the bags under his eyes. They were darker, which made them stand out even more than they normally did.
He hasn't been sleeping. Blake contemplated pulling the genius aside and asking him what's going on. Though she figured it wouldn't do her any good bothering him. Spencer Reid was a man of reason. He wouldn't do something as irrational as not sleeping unless he had a valid reason to do so. Instead, Blake went with a different question.
"Reid, you do know that paperwork isn't due for another 5 days, right?" She asked him. The man didn't give any sign that he heard her. Blake sighed quietly and leaned forward so she was closer to Reid.
"Spencer." She said sternly. At last, he heard her. The boy jumped slightly in his chair and looked around the room. When his eyes landed on Blake, he said,
"Huh?" Blake glanced down at Reid's paperwork to give him a hint on what her question was. "Oh," He continued, catching on. "I just figured I should get a head start; finish as much as I can when I can. You never know when a huge case will come upon us and make it so we don't have time to do it." He answered while at the same time their tech analyst Penelope Garcia walked into the room, holding a stack of papers and files in her hands.
"Right you are Doc. We just got another case and this one's not gonna be your typical walk in the park." She announced, "Debriefing in five."
The four FBI agents walked into the meeting room at the same time. Two other team members, Jennifer Jareau, or more commonly known as JJ, and their unit chief Aaron Hotchner, or Hotch for short, had already taken their seats at the circular table. The two groups acknowledged each other with a simple nod and then Blake, Garcia, Reid, and Morgan all took their seats. All but one seat was filled at the table.
"Where's Rossi?" Hotch asked, voicing everyone's thoughts. Morgan shrugged.
"He wasn't in the office with us. My best guess is that he had a little to much to drink and is slow from the hangover." Morgan said, snickering as he joked with the last part. Just then the man in question rushed into the room.
"I take great offense from that Morgan." He said and lightly bumped the agent on the back as he walked by, and Derek gave a wry smile to the other man. "Sorry for the late arrival everyone. I had a little run in with a fan." Rossi apologized as he took a seat.
"It's okay." Hotch said and turned to the tech analyst. "Garcia." The blonde girl jumped up at her cue, passed out the case files, turned towards the screen, and pointed the remote at it.
"Alrighty, this ones taken place down in lovely Atlanta area. There are currently 3 victims, all killed the same way." She pulled up three pictures on the screen, two men and one woman, all with a bullet two the head.
"Bullet to the head." JJ said, "They were killed execution style." Garcia pursed her lips and turned to the team.
"Yeah, well this deadly tale had a bit of a twist to it. All murders were done in public places with people all around them, yet no one saw a shooter, which means–"
"We're dealing with a sniper." Rossi finished. Garcia nodded solemnly. The last time the team dealt with a sniper was the case in Dallas a few years ago. It was not one of their favorite cases.
"Right you are, and this dude is good. All shots were very clean, precise shots. The victims deid instantly." Garcia zoomed in on the female's wound to show the fine marksmanship.
"If the victims died instantly, then that means they suffered little, if any, pain. This probably means the unsub didn't really know them personally, or at least didn't have a strong enough grudge against them to make them suffer as they died." Reid commented. Hotch nodded as he thought about what the young genius just said.
"Or maybe he knew them well enough that killing them that quickly would be a way to cause pain. No chance of being saved or getting a finally goodbye." He added on to what Reid just said.
"Hey Baby Girl, what info do we have on these victims?" Morgan asked. Penelope instantly answered the profiler.
"Our first victim, Dr. Connor Rivers, age 44, was the top surgeon in the area. He was killed when taking his dog for a run at a park. Like the others, there were a lot of witnesses." She said after she pulled up a picture of a man with brown hair, and his brown eyes wide open. Dry blood ran down his forehead. Garcia then changed the photo to the girl. She too had brown hair and brown eyes, and the bullet wound to the head, but was much younger. "The next victim is Julie Mora, age 25. She was a young fiction author, and in the past couple of years was increasingly growing in popularity. She was killed when leaving a meet-the-author at public library." Garcia pulled up the last picture. It was an older man with blonde hair that was turning gray and pale gray eyes. Blake narrowed her eyes at this picture. There was a strange dark brown substance surrounding the victim's head.
"What's that surrounding his head?" She asked Garcia. The blonde woman glanced at the picture to see what the agent was taking about, and then nodded her head when she saw it.
"That, my friend, is spilled coffee." She answered, "Which brings us to our third victim, Bob Ronald, age 54. He founded one of the leading businesses in Eastern America. He was killed at a local coffee joint not far from his work and his home."
"None of these victims show any connection whatsoever." Morgan commented, "Maybe Reid's right, maybe this unsub doesn't know his victims at all."
"Are you saying we're dealing with a spree killer?" JJ asked, shocked and slightly panicked—which she had every right to be. A spree killer was someone who killed at random. He never had any association with his or her victims. They were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a very serious deal. With their completely random kills, they were nearly impossible to track and they almost always had the biggest kill lists.
"Let's not jump to conclusions yet." Hotch said, trying to bring the panic to a down low. He then closed his case file and got up from his seat. "I hope you brought your to-go bags. Wheels up in ten."
They were close to landing in Georgia now, and Reid had spent the entire time studying the case file. He looked at that thing over and over again, reading every word and taking into account every small detail so he had it committed to memory - which wasn't hard due to his eidetic memory. He tried desperately to piece together what these victims had in common, but he came out unsuccessful. The author, surgeon, and businessman were polar opposites if you asked him. The author was a young girl that graduated college only 3 years prior to her death and had just received a job as a teacher. She wasn't married nor dating anyone, and she lived in with her grandparents after college. The surgeon was married with 4 children, two of which were in college, and the others in high school. He had been working this job for as long as his oldest child had been alive. The businessman was an extremely rich man with a lot of power. He hadn't been married, but had been dating a girl that was about half his age.
Reid looked up from the case file for the first time since they took off and rubbed his eyes. All that staring, reading, and reviewing had tired him, and it didn't help that he didn't sleep much the night before. Just when he thought his mother was getting better, she had another episode, and according to one of the doctors, one of the worst ones she's ever had. It frustrated him. She had finally reached a good enough mental heath to take a trip to the Grand Canyon, and now they were back where they started.
Once Reid finished rubbing his eyes and reopened them, he noticed Blake approaching him. She sat beside him on the couch, a concerned look on her face.
"Hey, Spencer, are you okay?" She asked him in a quite voice that only he could hear. Reid looked down at the case file as he responded.
"Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?" He stammered quickly, not making eye contact with the other agent. Blake sighed.
"Look, I wasn't going to ask you this at first, but I can't help but notice how overly tired you look. Is something wrong or...?" Reid shifted uncomfortably in his chair and still refused to make eye contact with Blake.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine." Reid said quickly, finally glancing up from the case file for a moment. Blake reached over and put a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Reid-" She began to say, but he didn't give her a chance to finish. He jerked out from underneath her touch.
"I said I'm fine." He growled. He closed the case file and got out of his seat in order to avoid the rest of the conversation. He walked over the cabinet where they kept the coffee so his leaving didn't look bad to his teammates. Derek gave him a weird look, but continued to listen to music, and Hotch looked up from his paperwork at him, but didn't say anything. As Reid poured himself a cup and added his many sugars, he inwardly sighed. The fact was, he really, truly, wanted to tell Alex what had happened to his mother. He wanted someone to comfort him and tell him it'd be okay. The only thing was that he was afraid that once he got on the topic that he'd start crying, and he wouldn't be able to stop.
Though technically Prentiss won the vote, as I planned this story out more and more I discovered that Blake would really fit the character I needed. Though the chances of Prentiss showing up in the sequel is possible if you want it. I'll ask it again at the end of this book and we'll have a vote.