Sorry this is so short! It was all I could squeeze out before work this morning. Will add more tonight! Thank you for reading! Please leave reviews
"It's a definite avenue of exploration. Reid, you and Prentiss can spend the first few hours on that, and see if it leads anywhere. Morgan and Rossi, I want you to interview victim's families. JJ and I will field local press and PD concerns for the first 24 hours. Let's be as tight-lipped about this as possible. We still have no theories other than the judge and lawyer link." Hotch said seriously.
Rossi tried to hide his mild irritation, he had wanted to go into the field with Prentiss so they could have a moment to talk about last night. But this was probably just as well, she may not want to talk personal while working. Watching her carefully he could tell that she was stressed, a little more uptight than usual. I wonder if it's because of me… Did I overstep my boundaries last night? He knew without asking that he had. From snooping in her kitchen to forcing her to confess about the ring. Not to mention brazenly laying next to her and holding her so close. She held me back. She put her arms around ME too… His brows were bunching closer together and unknowingly the frown on his face had become downright unpleasant. "Rossi." Morgan shook him from his thoughts. "Ready to go?" wordlessly Rossi nodded.
The silent truck ride made Morgan look questioningly in Rossi's direction a few times, but didn't ask about whatever he was brooding about. After about twenty minutes Rossi finally asked "So. First victim?"
"25 year old Ashley Carrington. Senior college student, major in Psyc. Only child, this one will be rough with the parents. One fatal shot to the head, from behind, close range. Body found on campus, looks like maybe she was in the courtyard studying, or maybe waiting for a class to start." Morgan rattled off what he could remember about the first file.
"Wait… She was shot in daylight? And there are no witnesses?"
"No witnesses, YET. Time of death is estimated to be around 4 p.m., a class time unique to graduating seniors who have to take random units to wrap up their degree, peak traffic or class time is between eight a.m. and noon. It won't be difficult to narrow down what classes were going at that time, and who might've been coming or going to the next class, but it will be difficult to interview that number of students. University of Tennessee is a huge school…." Morgan trailed off a little hopelessly.
Rossi just shook his head.
"So. Start with close friends, boyfriend, schedule, habits, hobbies, was she a partier or not… the usual."
Again, he was answered with a head nod.
"Hey. Rossi. What's up with you, man? Why so quiet?"
"Just thinking." He replied slowly, without taking his eyes off the road ahead.
Morgan nodded and knew there was deep meaning behind those two words but didn't ask further. He concentrated on the very unpleasant task ahead.
Meanwhile, Reid and Prentiss were searching the office of the lawyer, Chase Lee, for any possible clues as to a connection to Judge Currier.
"Man this guy has a folder for everything…. Every case he's ever worked on or that is current is so well organized…" Prentiss was thumbing through current cases with a genuine look surprise and intrigue on her face.
"Lawyers are Type-A, Alpha personalities. Every aspect of their life is organized, controlled and manipulated. They care about appearances of everything, their home, office, even the people in their lives – ever notice the office staff in a law firm are usually relatively young, attractive females? Or how their spouses are always mildly successful in career, but above average aesthetically? It's both an unconscious personal projection as well as a conscious personal representation." Reid's face was one of concentration as he went through the drawers of a large, expensive looking mahogany desk. He didn't notice the look of distress on Emily's face as some personal revelation was spreading across it.
"We went through his PDA at the morgue, Judge Currier's number wasn't in there, nor is it in the phone records. We may have to consider there was no connection…"
"It seemed so possible…" she shook her head and replaced the folder she had been reading.
So… am I mildly successful in my career but above average pretty? … Tyler doesn't manipulate me… does he? No. Tyler isn't like that. He's a good guy… he's not OCD like this guy… he's organized and well-prepared, sure. Oh god. Is he a Type-A, alpha male? No… maybe?
Not typical, but she let Reid drive as she silently went for the passenger side. A little surprised, he took it in stride and started breaking down some other theories he'd been considering, but she wasn't listening. His boy genius rattling drove her a little insane sometimes. She was instead trying to convince herself that Tyler was not like this Chase guy… A memory of last Christmas came crashing through her mind.
"You… made a spreadsheet of people you bought Christmas presents for?" she was trying hard not to openly laugh. "And the people I still NEED to buy for. That way I don't forget anyone. And at the bottom there is a separate list of gifts received, and I won't forget to have Amy send out 'thank you' cards before the 'Happy New Year' cards. There is a small window, you know." Tyler flashed a toothy smile. "That's very thoughtful, I guess. It seems like a lot of work to keep a spreadsheet though." "It's more work for Amy if I don't keep one, having to guess what needs to be purchased at the mall." Amy, his assistant, did his Christmas shopping for him too? She was a little bit astonished. But I guess if you worked as much as Tyler, a personal assistant was necessary and that job description was probably quite varied.
Yes, she was going to have to concede that perhaps he was in fact Type-A. But Alpha? Yes… that too. He insisted on being right about everything and had a great, well thought out and logical rebuttal for anything, on a dime. She started to think about the small things that got on her nerves. His insistence that she turn the hall closet into a coat closet because he had to have somewhere to hang his expensive suit jackets, simply laying them over a chair was unthinkable.
I wonder if Rossi has a coat closet… She hoped she wasn't turning pink as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. She closed her eyes and relished the memory of being in his arms last night… the spicy, earthy smell of his shirt on her face… What am I doing?