"Well, we know this guy is in good shape." Rossi said, piecing together bits of information. "Neither of our victims were particularly small or out of shape, so he'd have to be to subdue them."

"With strangulation, we can be pretty certain that he is male." Derek offered.

"And he's organized." Hotchner confirmed. "The choice of victims might have been random, but he would have to have space and time, and know when and where to dump the bodies so he wouldn't be seen."

"Both victims were found at or near where they worked." Spencer noted. "That would seem to indicate their jobs are a part of why they were targeted. So maybe they aren't random at all. Maybe they're connected to our unsub."

"What did you find out about the herbs?" Hotchner looked to Garcia, who had been sitting silently, flicking the spring-loaded flower on the top of her pen.

"Well," Garcia began, "I found they are not difficult to buy in bulk online, however buying them in person anywhere in the area is nigh impossible. So he either grows it himself or, like me, he is no stranger to the great past time of online shopping. As far as what they are used for, there are a lot of homeopathy and naturalist beliefs that link all of the herbs to various remedies for all sorts of things, from cold medications to fungal infections, to you name it. But, they all have different applications and I haven't found any one thing specific remedy that makes use of all these things specifically."

"So, what, that would bring us back to political statement?" J.J asked "That would make sense for the doctor, but the reverend?"

"Many people with a strongly held belief in naturalism and homeopathy also link it to a spirituality, or a connectedness with a higher plane of being."

"So maybe the victims crossed paths with our unsub and somehow offended his philosophy." Derek concluded.

"Rossi and J.J, you go to the church and Autrey's home. See if you can get an interview with the estranged wife. Reid and Morgan, you go to Bertram's home and talk to his coworkers. I want to see how our victims connect. I'm going to touch base with local law enforcement, let them know what we found."

The team rose from their chairs, filing out of the room.

"Reid. Reid!" Garcia whispered loudly, catching Reid by the elbow and keeping him back. "My hot chocolate lover may or may not have told me you have a romantical missed connection conundrum."

"Garcia, it's really not -"

"I'm just saying, I looked up the event online and the tickets were only available through the theater itself and either had to be reserved through the theater website or at the theater itself, so as long as she paid with a credit card, I could -"

"No, Garcia." Spencer shook his head. "I mean, thank you, and I appreciate the thought, but it seems tracking her credit card purchases is hardly a way to endear myself to her. I mean, don't you think that's a little...creepy? Not to mention illegal."

"But...but the distinction between creepy and romantic is in the eye of the beholder, and it's only just south of legal." Penelope pleaded.

"I just...It doesn't seem right." Spencer shook his head. "I'd appreciate it if you'd just let it go."

"But...but..."

Reid was out the door before Garcia could finish her thought, the hopeless romantic in her wilting.

"This is not where I imagine a doctor living." Morgan sounded surprised and unimpressed by the modest apartment set in an older tenement building across from a string of businesses.

"He was behind on his bills." Spencer said, quietly flipping through a stack of envelopes on the table. "Final notice. Final notice."

"So his money was going somewhere." Morgan reached for his phone, pressing speed-dial 1. "Hey, Baby Girl, I need you to work some magic for me."

"My cauldron is bubbling, my sorcerer of sexy." Garcia's voice responded.

"I need you to dig into Bertram's financial records a bit. Tell me where all his money was going if it wasn't going to living expenses."

"Let me check."

There was silence on the line and the faint sound of keys tapping could be heard from the other end.

"Oh, dear." Garcia sounded concerned. "Looks like a lot of the doctor's money was tied up in lawyers battling lawsuits. Looks like in the past five years he's had no less than seven suits against him. Three were dismissed, one was dropped, one settled, two are still open."

"Lawsuits for what?" Spencer asked the phone.

"Looks like medical negligence and malpractice." Garcia said. "Looks like a lot of families were angry about the treatment of loved ones with chronic or life-threatening conditions the doctor didn't properly diagnose."

"What kind of conditions?" Derek held the phone between himself and Reid as they listened.

"Things like fibromyalgia...Crohn's disease...Oof, ovarian cancer..."

"All these things can be incredibly difficult for general practitioners to diagnose." Spencer said. "Often their symptoms can appear psychosomatic or mimic other diseases. It could be he just made the wrong call and the families sued out of frustration."

"That's gotta be tough." Derek said seriously.

"Hold the phone." Garcia said. "It looks like for the past year he has been writing some substantial checks to some kind of museum."

"What museum?" Derek frowned as Reid wandered away, back to the table of envelopes next to the window.

"It's really weird." Garcia sounded confused. "The Museum of Fiber Art and Studio"

"Where is that?"

"Right there."

Derek looked up to see Spencer standing by the table, looking out the window and down across the street.

"We're gonna take a field trip." Derek told Garcia. "Thanks, Mama."

"Anytime, my Love."

"The museum was right across the street, he would have seen it going in." Spencer said as they walked through the doors of the apartment building and down the street a ways.

"But why here?" Derek asked.

"Well, the area has been undergoing some renovation. Maybe he wanted to support local culture."

"Doesn't get more local than your own front yard." Derek conceded.

Derek's phone rang. He looked at the ID screen as he answered.

"Yeah, Mama." He said.

"The plot thickens." Garcia said. "Turns out one of the dropped lawsuits against Bertram was on behalf of a Pamela Mitchell. Bertram was her G.P when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer almost 18 months ago. Lawsuit was dragged out until it was dropped a few months later, a mere one month before the donations to the museum started. But get this, both Pamela and her husband Geoffrey's names appear as co-signers on the small business loan to get the museum up and running, which was ultimately granted by their only daughter -"

"Avery." Spencer stood in shock in the doorway of the museum.

"Spencer." Avery stood behind tall desk in the gallery, looking stunned.

"Avery?" Garcia's voice sounded equally stunned over the phone. "Like...Avery, Avery? Silent movie loving ship in the night Avery?"

"Thanks, Garcia." Derek responded tensely, hanging up the phone.