Chapter 3

December 3, 2008

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Lexie Howard loved Christmas lights. It was her thing, it was her Christmas. So, as she stood outside her house in Bozeman, Montana surveying the bare rafters and eaves, she chewed her lip. It was always a task to plan out exactly how she would hang her lights. She aimed to be the best on her little street, the house that everyone took pictures of during the annual tour of lights. It was important to her to have the best and so she meticulously planned out where each string would go every year.

"You look pensive."

Lexie turned swiftly, relaxing when she realized it was simply her next-door neighbour. "Mason, you scared me."

"Sorry," he said with a smile. "You're easy to spook."

She smiled. "You haven't heard the stories?"

"Stories?"

"Mmm," she said, turning her attention back to her house. "There's a Tree Light Killer."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "A what?"

"Come on, Mason, you've lived in this town for how long? You have to know about the Tree Light Killer."

"Never heard of one."

Lexie arched a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Someone dies every December. For the last three years anyway. All strangled with Christmas lights."

"Hence Tree Light."

"Exactly."

"Then why are you standing out here all by yourself?" Mason asked.

"Someone's got to hang these lights and Jake's on a business trip. Won't be back until tomorrow night. The light tour starts tonight so I have to get these up today."

"Want some help?"

Lexie turned her most dazzling smile on him. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not."


"And this is one of our most beautiful houses on the tour." Dean Williams had been the host of Bozeman's Christmas Light Tour for almost thirty years and he proudly presented every house on the route.

Cameras went up, clicking away at the house and it's lights sparkling against the darkness of the house. There were oohs and ahhs at the lights, at the design, at the sparkle.

"Mister?"

Dean looked down at the little boy, no older than seven. "What is it, son?"

"Is there supposed to be a person hanging from the roof?"


"Alexis Howard is the latest victim in a four year crime stint."

Emily raised an eyebrow at Jennifer "JJ" Jareau. "Four years?" Her calm exterior held tight, even though her insides were practicing for the circus. She'd left a CD of music on Hotch's desk that morning and nothing had come of it. Of course, she'd been surrounded by her colleagues all day so it wouldn't surprise her that he wouldn't approach her.

"Not just four years," Derek Morgan asked, glancing though the file. "December of the last four years."

"What's so special about December?" Reid asked, looking though the file, reading it at his abnormally fast speed.

"They call him the Tree Light Killer," JJ responded, bringing up the crime scene photos.

David Rossi squinted, leaning forward to try and see some detail in the pictures. "What is the extra indentation along the ligature line?"

"Christmas lights, according to autopsy." Emily answered, looking down at the information in front of her. "So he's strangling them with Christmas lights?"

"Sure looks that way," Rossi agreed.

"But he only comes out in December. Why?"

"He feels more comfortable in the snow?" Emily quipped, a smile tilting the corner of her mouth. She was hyper-aware of her supervisor sitting beside her silently. He hadn't contributed anything to their brainstorming session and if it wasn't for the fact that she could see him flip through his pages out of the corner of her eye, she'd have wondered if he was even alive and breathing.

"There's got to be something about December that makes him attack," Derek agreed. "And always in the first couple of weeks."

"Christmas, maybe?" Rossi replied cheekily.

"No one but you hates Christmas Dave," Emily quipped. "Families are all the same. There's always children, always a husband, but something has to set him off. They don't look that much alike."

It was true, Victim one was a blond-haired, brown-eyed five-foot-five woman. She was slight and small, and a stay at home mom. An easy target. Victim two was a green-eyed woman with shoulder-length raven hair. She was fit, trim, probably a runner if Emily had any sort of ability to see that type of thing. She was completely capable of fighting off an attacker. The third was another blonde, but more like JJ with blue eyes and a wide smile. She was average in every sense of the word. A teacher, her days were marked by routine according to the police files she'd been able to skim. Alexis Howard, their final victim, was a dark brunette with blue eyes, a striking contrast.

"I think it's safe to say they knew their attackers," she volunteered. "None of them fought back."

"So he's strong enough to take on these women. They're not all little wisps," Derek agreed. "And they know him."

"By the time they realize what's going on, it's already too late," Hotch said, his voice monotonous, but the sentiment striking each agent to the bone. "Wheels up in twenty."


The plane was quiet as it flew over the continental United States. Reid had his book and Derek had his headphones on, his head bopping to the music though his eyes were closed. Rossi was looking over the file for the hundredth time and JJ was snuggled fast asleep on the bench. Emily sat back in the corner, headphones in, book of crosswords in front of her when Hotch slid in across the table.

"Hey," he said softly, not willing to interrupt the quiet of the plane.

She'd looked up as he sat down, the movement catching her eye. She smiled, pulling one headphone out of her ear. "Hey."

"How long have you been doing those?" he asked, gesturing to the book.

She tried not to roll her eyes. "Since Gideon left. Before, actually."

He nodded. Silence fell.

She filled in another group of boxes, humming slightly and absently.

Hotch grinned. "Emily?"

She was surprised by his grin. It took her off guard, so much so that her heart fluttered almost uncomfortably. He needed to smile like that more often. "Mmhmm?" She forced her hand to keep from shaking as she filled in another word. Over the years, she'd gotten quite good, she knew that.

"Thank you."

That brought her head back up. "I'm sorry?"

"Thank you," he said again.

"Okay," she chuckled lightly. "For?"

"The CD."

Emily cursed herself for the blush she could feel creeping up her cheeks. "It was no problem."

Hotch's smile widened.

Emily felt herself smiling back and almost laughing. "It was a CD. I make one every year but I have my iPod..." She almost gasped when he reached across to take the little white earbud from where it was dangling next to the other. She moved her head forward as he pulled the bud towards him. Her breath caught.

"Do you mind?"

She shook her head when he indicated he wanted to listen. She shot a quick glance around the plane, partially happy to see no one was looking. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear was still floating into her ear. "You know what makes me want to catch this guy?" she blurted, still disconcerted that he was so close to her.

He arched an eyebrow. "Other than the fact that he's killed four people?"

"Mmhmm," she answered, propping her chin on the hand not holding her pen. "The fact that he's killed four people at Christmas for the last four years."

His lips tilted upwards. "It does seem unfair."

"Unfair? Blasphemous. I would think another Christmas lover such as yourself would see the inherent sacrilegious nature of this."

He chuckled at the obvious teasing tone in her voice. Working on paperwork and talking about Christmas music and now teasing. It made him think of his brunette colleague in a completely different light. He'd never thought something as simple as Christmas could bridge the last bit of the gap between him and the woman he hadn't wanted on his team to begin with, Between seeing her with Jack, spending the night doing consults with her and learning about her obsession with Christmas music, Emily had surprised him almost daily And he liked it.

Emily had to admit that the difference in their relationship was almost painfully obvious. But it wasn't a bad change by any means. In fact, if anything, she was happy the change was happening. Hotch had always had her off guard, always kept her off guard. Something was changing between them and she wasn't sure what it was or how it would end. And that made her very unsure of whether she even wanted it to happen. Sure, she liked that there was a friendship blossoming between them. That was important. He trusted her professionally, she knew that, but it seemed like he was starting to trust her personally.

And it had all started with an afternoon cutting out Christmas decorations with none other than the same man's son.


This wasn't the original Chapter 3, but a more comprehensive one.

Wish me luck on my exam tomorrow!