Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with Criminal Minds.

Notes: Thanks to everyone who gives reviews, favorites this story, and everyone who puts this story on story alert! This chapter is a lot longer than the other chapters, but I had to make it that way. I wanted to do the entire crime and solution all in one chapter. Once this really gets going my hope is to start thinking up my own crimes for the team to solve, and eventually the real plot for my story will set it. If everything works out I would like to make most of the chapters switch off on which guy they focus on. So one would be mainly about Hotch, then the next would focus on Reid. The story hasn't been paying nearly as much attention to Hotch as I would like it to, but it's difficult with his divorce to Hailey starting right about this time. That relationship is going to be a little harder to get into, but never fear! Even if it takes me forever, I will make everything work out! I apologize in advance for all the time skips in this chapter. I wanted it to be as true to the episode as possible, and so I had to do a few time skips to make it all work out. I just hope it all makes sense to you guys! Sorry, too, if you find this one a little boring. I needed to give her a little bit of experience on the job before anything huge starts happening. The next chapter will hopefully be a break from the crime solving so that we can have a little character development. Reviews and constructive criticism greatly appreciated! As always, enjoy.

"All things truly wicked start from innocence." -Ernest Hemingway

-Chapter 4-

Remember the Victims

Do you know how long it takes to sort through eight boxes filled with potential evidence? Neither do I, but I assume it's somewhere between a few hours and a week. At least that's how long I could guess I had been locked up in that windowless room without any sense of time, sorting through what could only be described as something close to a collection of Satan's worst fantasies. What I do know, however, is that I have come to hate the feeling of fluorescent lights hanging just above my head.

Rossi had asked both Reid and I if we had found any evidence to suggest that these fantasies had ever become a reality at any point, to which we both told him we had not. I was finishing up on the last packet from the boxes I was to search through, it was a schematic for another torture device our mystery man had invented, when Rossi burst into the room.

He had left to tell agent Morris-or, excuse me, Jill, about our decision to return back to Virginia. She was a stubborn women who had an irritating air about her all the time. Having found no reason to believe these violent crimes had ever actually been committed, there was no reason for us to remain here. He had told Reid and myself to finish up our boxes when he left, just in case. Reid had finished scanning his papers long before I had, and I had begun to feel extremely self-conscious when the room had gone silent of his rapid flipping through pages. Needless to say, I was almost relieved when Rossi's entrance created some noise.

"I just called the rest of the team." He stated as he made his way over to the table he had been using before he had left, grabbing some of the papers on it and putting them back into their respective boxes. Spencer and I turned at this and although I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was just as confused as I was. "What do you mean? I thought we were leaving because there wasn't any solid evidence." Rossi shook his head at him. "It seems that agent Morris was holding out on us. Apparently they also found a lock of hair in the storage unit."

The look on his face was nearly indefinable. If I were to try, I'd say it was something between skepticism and worry. "Hair? Are we sure it wasn't just from the unsub?" I had to ask, if this man had actually kept hair from a women this was likely to be serious The collecting of integuments like hair is more than enough evidence to suggest this man was a not only a sexual predator but that he had likely enacted at least some, if not all, of what he had written.

Rossi nodded slowly. "It looked to be from a young woman with long, blond hair." He didn't have to say anything more. I suddenly felt a little sick to my stomach, thinking that some poor girl had to go through all this. "We'll wait for everyone to get here before we do anything else." Reid and I both nodded silently. I turned back to my table and began to sort through and put everything away, I had my real first case on my hands.

After everyone arrived we had a meeting to brief everyone on what we had found. I was almost ecstatic when Hotch told me to go with Prentiss and Morgan to look at the storage unit, spending hours in a dark room had made me itching to see sunlight again.

The storage unit was filled with furniture and boxes. Surprisingly, there was nothing really out of the ordinary. Drawings from his childhood suggested that he had a pleasant life up until something had happened to his mother. Whether that something was her death or just her leaving wasn't clear, but what was clear was the fact that it probably hadn't changed him for the better. Morgan and Prentiss had a bet going, the person with the best insights on the unsub buys the loser lunch. I had been offered to join their bet, but declined. I didn't want to have to buy lunch for both of them. I'm not made of money.

From the evidence in the unit we had determined that he was blond and Caucasian, nothing particularly substantial or insightful about him. That is, until Morgan lifted something out of a box. "Look at these." He held up a few items of clothing. "Dresses." I made my way over to him, taking one of the dresses from his hands. Prentiss grabbed one from the box and examined it. "They're different sizes." She observed, looking at the tag on the dress in her hands. Morgan shook his head. "They were different sizes." He corrected her. "They've been altered."

So our unsub was a cross-dresser. I was very happy that I had not taken that bet. "Looks like I'm buying lunch." Prentiss admitted defeat.

Upon returning to the headquarters we immediately went to the conference room where everyone was waiting. Hotch explained the torture behavior that Reid had identified by examining the journals again. Apparently he used an electrical currents to shock and burn his victims. When Emily asked if her clothes had been found J.J. seemed surprised. "No, how did you know?" Emily explained what we had found at the storage unit. While this bit of information seemed to interest almost everyone there, Rossi seemed to have another question on his mind. "What about her hair? Was any of it missing?" J.J. shook her head. "Not that was reported."

I turned to look at Rossi, but instead found myself looking at agent Morris. She seemed suddenly uncomfortable as she smoothed down the back of her hair, staring at the ground. I didn't both to question it though, I'm sure the others had seen it. Especially Rossi, who seemed to be watching Jill like a hawk.

"J.J., contact Garcia and widen the victim search. Rossi, Fischer and I will go visit the crime scene." With that he was already heading out the door. I stood from my seat without a word, following after the two men.

As we approached the door I grabbed my badge from my pocket. From inside we could hear the voices of a man and what sounded to be a little boy. When Hotch rang the doorbell we could hear the man say something about waiting a second so he could get the door. I looked over to see Hotch straighten out his tie, Rossi already had his badge out like me. They both looked so intimidating, standing there in their suits, it wasn't a surprise when the man opening the door looked a little taken-back.

"Mr. Overholt?" He brought his hand into the pocket in his coat and pulled out his own badge. "I'm Agent Hotchner. These are Agents Rossi and Fischer." He gestured to the two of us. "We're with the FBI." I didn't blame the man for looking surprised. "FBI?"

Putting away our badges, Rossi cleared his throat. "You've lived in this house for four years, correct?" Mr. Overholt did nothing but nod. "I assume disclosures were made at the time of sale about what occurred here?" Again he nodded, this time glancing behind him before looking back at us.

"Look, my son doesn't know about that. I'd prefer to keep it that way." Hotch nodded understandingly. "Of course, we understand. We'll be discreet. We just need to take a look at your cellar." He reassured him. Overholt sighed and agreed, no even bothering to close the door before showing us the way to the cellar. He proceeded to explain that he hadn't touched it since he moved in, that it was more of a nuisance than anything. Apparently the electrical was 'messed up' and when it rained it would get water in it.

He gave the doors to the cellar a sharp tug and they made an awful screeching noise when they opened. The hinges were rusted and the paint was chipped and worn off in places. "There you go. Hope you guys don't mind if I stay up here." We looked down into the pitch-black hole in the ground and Rossi grabbed a flashlight he had brought just in case. I looked at the man and smiled. "We'll try not to take too long." He returned the smile and nodded.

Rossi was first to go down, followed by Hotch, then finally myself. The light from outside allowed us to see the first few stairs, and Rossi's flashlight lit the rest. "So..." Rossi began as we descended the stairs. He attempted to turn on the switch that was at the bottom of the steps, but gave up when the very faint light flickered on and off. Overholt hadn't been lying when he said there were electrical problems down here. "He's done with the tour of the main house. Before he goes, he asked the Realtor to see the cellar, and boom." He tried to piece together the last few moments of our victim's life. Hotch was examining a file as he walked down. "Contusion on the back of her head says he surprised her. He incapacitated her with a blunt object." Hotch helped to solidify Rossi's theory.

"Thick walls." Rossi observed, using his flashlight to look around. "Neighbors are few and far-between. He can make her scream as loud as he wants to." I felt a shiver go down my spine.

I can't imagine the pain and fear this girl must have had to go through before dieing.

I began to wander around the room, looking at the shelves and items. The dust down there was thick, and I didn't doubt there was mold growing around too. "Rope burns on her wrist. He probably suspended her." Hotch looked up from the file and noticed something. "Here." He pointed at the ceiling and Rossi shined his flashlight up. "Like in his drawings. And then he applied the current and watched her whole body spasm." Hotch finished, closing the file. I continued to search for something, anything that could help us.

"He makes her dance." Rossi said with a hint of disgust. "But where does he get the juice? Cattle prod? Taser?" Hotch shrugged and shook his head. "Contact wounds don't conform to that." At that moment I noticed something close to the ground. I crouched down to get a better look, reaching my hand out to touch it lightly.

I cleared my throat suddenly. "Hey, guys? You might wanna take a look at this." They both looked over and Rossi moved his light to shine on me. "What is it?" Hotch asked. Rossi walked up and crouched by my side. "This outlet's been tampered with." I told them, moving the covering of the outlet to show Rossi. "Careful." Hotch commanded, walking closer. I took my hand away from the outlet and looked up at him. Rossi, however, ignored his warning and reached his hand in the the socket. I held my breath as he dug around in there. One wrong move and we'd have a very crispy Rossi to deal with. After a moment he yanked a few cords out, taking his hand away.

"Jerry-rigged." He concluded as he looked at the cords. "Clamp is still there." We both stood up and Hotch sighed. "He didn't have to use a taser. He pulled power from the house." Rossi nodded at Hotch. "Handy guy."

Hotch looked over to me as I brushed the dust and dirt from my pants. "Good work, Fischer." I couldn't help it when the sides of my mouth turned upwards. There wasn't much I knew about Aaron Hotchner, but I knew enough to know that he wasn't one to just throw out praise and complements without meaning.

When we got back from visiting the cellar we were greeted with some news from Garcia. Unfortunately it wasn't exactly the news we were hoping to hear.

"Three females, age 31-38, discovered off freeways in Maryland, Jersey, and New York." Penelope read off of her computer screens in front of her. "All naked, burn wounds consistent with the signature." Great, that meant we not only had a killer on our hands, but he was a serial killer. He had disposed of the bodies in different states so that he could avoid detection. When Hotch asked when the bodies were discovered she told him that it was between '02 and spring of '03. Even better, he had four kills by the age of 30.

"Alright." Hotch said after a long moment. "I think we have enough information to give the profile. Thanks Garcia." And with that he hung up on her.

"With four known victims-" Hotch began. "-we should start by re-interviewing friends and family. We're looking for a white male in his 30s to 40s. And with his knowledge of circuitry and wiring, we think that he's either an electrician or an electrical engineer." The room was filled with many law enforcement officers, ready and waiting to hear the profile we would give them of the man they were supposed to track down and bring to justice.

Next, Rossi chimed in. "It's a job that may give him access to a victim's home or workplace. The opportunity to observe his targets." I saw a couple people scratch notes into the notepads they had in their hands.

Prentiss continued where Rossi had left off. "They're attractive, professional women. He sees them as strong, righteous, unobtainable. So he seeks to tear them down. To reduce them to base sexual creatures-" I don't know whether she was pausing to catch her breath or to add dramatic effect, but either way she paused. "-and punish them."

Although I was new to all this profile-presenting business, I couldn't help myself. I started talking when Emily finished. "He's a true sexual sadist. A typology we refer to as anger-excitation, meaning he becomes sexually aroused by the suffering of his victims."

Hotch looked out at the group of men and women. "Killing these women is an afterthought. Their pain is what he's after, and he takes his time to exact maximum stimulation."

From the front of the group a man spoke up. "What about his trophies? He keeps their clothes, right?" He was probably in his 30s and had thick glasses on his face. He had a file in his hands that he paged through every now and then.

Prentiss nodded. "Yes. We believe he's using them for rehearsal fantasies. By dressing as his victims he can relive the torture." The man who had asked the question looked a little disgusted at what she had just said.

I knew that he was almost sorry for asking, but it was important information that everyone needed to know. "It's during this time that he most likely pleasures himself in order to reinforce his association between suffering and gratification." A few more repulsed looks came from the audience when I told them that.

Hotch was unfazed by their reaction. He continued to give the profile as if he was talking about a normal person he had known all his life. It was obvious that he has been doing this job far longer than most of the other members of the team. "And when he becomes dissatisfied with this he seeks out a new victim."

Rossi's seniority in this field was also apparent. It was obvious his years in retirement hadn't effected him much. "Keep in mind, he's been doing this for a long time, and he's been thinking about doing it most of his life. He'll continue to evolve, finding new ways of challenging himself, increasing his stimulation threshold. There are no boundaries for this man." Although there was more we could have spoken about we never got the chance. At that moment J.J. rushed in through the door.

"Hotch." Her voice sounded urgent and Hotchner seemed to understand what she meant when she motioned to him. Hotch looked back at the three of us and we were following him out the door in an instant. J.J. lead us to the next room where a TV was switched on. The screen had an image of Agent Morris on it. She was speaking to what looked to be reporters for a news channel.

"-May well have continued to operate without our knowledge." From what I could piece together agent Morris had decided she would be taking the media into her own hands. All at once the air in the room turned from confused to irritated. Did she even know what she was doing? And without getting permission from us first! I knew the second I met her that she was headstrong and driven, but I never thought it would come to this. Hotch seemed to be the most frustrated of all. "Did you know about about this?" He asked Rossi, who merely shook his head.

After the conference with the press was done he was out of the room in a second, off to find Agent Morris, I guess. J.J. and Rossi left a moment later after Hotch. A minute passed by with them being gone before I turned to Prentiss. At the exact same moment we both let out a breath of air I don't think either of us knew we were holding. We both gave light chuckles. "We should go find Morgan and Reid." She suggested when the lingering tension in the room subsided. "We could all go find a place to eat." I happily agreed. The thought of getting out of this building for a little while was too good to pass up, there was just something I disliked about being there.

We found a nice little diner not too far from the headquarters. It hadn't taken too long to find the two boys, they had been in an empty conference room we had set up with white-boards, maps, and anything else the team would need. They were both happy to come along, I knew they were just as eager as I was to leave the headquarters.

"I have no doubt that she's highly capable. I'm just- I'm saying that I find her excitement level at the prospect of finding more bodies somewhat unsettling." I sat next to Emily in the booth we had chosen and Spencer and Derek were sitting across from us. We had made conversation about the case when we were all settled in our seats and the topic had slowly shifted to Ms. Morris after a while. Spencer had been the first to give his opinion of her.

"Yeah, J.J. said she was making up names for the killer." Morgan told us as he accepted his meal he had ordered from the waitress, thanking her. I noticed Prentiss in the corner of my eye crack a smile. "And yet, if she was a man you'd say she had balls." She teased him, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as her elbow sat on the tabletop. "Oh, don't even go there. This is not a gender thing." Morgan shot back defensively, but he knew that Prentiss was only poking fun at him... Kind of. She laughed. "Right." Sarcasm was dripping from her voice.

I rolled my eyes at their childish teasing but smiled all the same. "Alright. Let's get back to Reid's map." Spencer, who had been mostly silent up until then, perked up. He was always eager to share his ideas and knowledge with someone, and this was no exception. He took a knife from the table to use as a pointer.

"Alright, we already know that a killer won't normally travel far to abduct his victims." He moved the knife and his other hand to outline the area where the killings had taken place. They were spread apart further than what you usually saw with killers. "But this one's gone to great lengths to spread out his abduction and disposal sights." It makes sense, of course. The further apart the bodies are disposed of, the less likely the police are going to connect the multiple killings together.

"So the sites are irrelevant to the geographical profile?" Prentiss asked him. It all made sense, sure, but it also meant that we would have no idea where our killer could possibly be hiding. Reid nodded without glancing up. "The only location I can attach a real meaning to is the storage unit."

Great.

"Four victims and we got squat." Morgan concluded, setting down his fork and leaning back. It looked like he had lost his appetite. This time Spencer looked up. "For years he's gone unchecked. I think it's only a matter of time before he grows comfortable and starts killing closer to home."

More good news.

The sarcastic remarks in my mind caused me to sigh. The three of them glanced over at me and I crossed my arms and frowned. "Unfortunately, that only helps us if there's a fresh kill." The sad and harsh truth. Without another body we had no clue as to where this man could possibly be.

Derek shook his head sadly. "So there's a woman out there right now who has to die so we can do our job." It was a statement. Some poor woman was going to have to lose her life to help us, and she'd never even see in coming. It wasn't just Morgan now, we all had lost our appetites.

The next morning was spent listening to parents, boyfriends, fiancés, and best friends tell their stories of how their daughters, lovers, and companions never came home one day. It was actually horrifying how many kidnappings in this area seemed to have gone unsolved. The press conference Jill had given yesterday seemed to have stirred up some old memories for these people. The only break we got was when agent Morris called us away to listen to something. Apparently someone had called the tip line and said they saw someone burying a body in a field.

We listened to the recording carefully. It was obvious by the way the caller referred to the body as "it" and "bleeder" that our killer had actually been the one tipping us off. We wasted no time in dispatching an entire team of officers and medical examiners to mile marker 115 on the eastbound of I-76, the exact place the killer had told us we would find the body. Hotch sent Morgan and Prentiss out to get the details on what was found. Apparently they discovered two bodies at the site instead of just one. Both had been burned the same as the other victims, and the teeth were in fair enough shape to be able to give us a positive ID. Of course, we would have to wait for those results to come back, but that wouldn't take long. Not with Penelope Garcia working for us.

I was examining the timeline we had drawn up on a large white-board when Morgan got the call from Penelope. He put it on speaker so we could all hear. "Mimi Adams and Sara Coswell. You'll find them in the missing person files we flagged as possible victims." Garcia's voice came through the phone loud and clear. "Thanks, baby girl. We're on it." Morgan told her, about to hang up. I hadn't been working for the BAU for long, but already I knew that the two of them were closer to each other than anyone else on the team. Their exchanges always made me smile. "Wait, there's something else. Both women were reported missing four months ago... on the same day."

That caught the groups attention quickly. "He's doing doubles." Rossi said. "The killer got bored, upped the stakes, and did two women in one day." I grimaced. This was all a game to him. "So he kills without any challenge from the authorities for years and after a while he gets bored of that, needs a bigger fix." I theorized. Morgan nodded in agreement with me. "So he starts doing two a day."

"Four months later he still can't get off, so he opens his storage locker for us." Rossi finished and glanced down at the files in his hands of the victims. At that moment a knock came at the door. "Jill." Everyone shifted their gaze to the doorway to see a young man standing there in a gray suit. "Chronicle holding on line two." We all looked back at Agent Morris who shifted uncomfortably. She cleared her throat after a moment and looked up. "Yeah, I'll take that in my office."

I knew she could feel our eyes on her as she shuffled to the door. She smoothed the back of her hair down and I took note. Was it an old habit she had? "Planning another press conference?" Morgan's comment sounded cold and harsh. She hesitated at the door for a moment, gripping the wood frame of the doorway, before continuing on her way out like nothing had been said.

It didn't take long for the unit to come together in the conference room. J.J. and Prentiss were the only two missing. J.J. was the first of the two to arrive. "I heard we got ID's on these two bodies."

Spencer was the one who answered her. "Mimi Adams and Sara Coswell." J.J. nodded. She had a picture in her hands that caught my attention. "What's up?" Hotch questioned. It must have caught his attention as well. J.J. lifted up the picture and showed us the other side. On it was a woman with light blond hair, smiling. "This woman's husband came in before. She fits the victim type. I thought maybe..." She trailed off.

"If you have her DNA, you might want to check it against the hair." I suggested. It would be nice to figure out who the hair that had started this whole thing belonged to. J.J. looked confused for a moment. "What hair?"

"From the storage unit. Agent Morris found it early on. It's the same color so it might-" Spencer began, but he was cut off by Rossi. "It wont match." His comment was forceful and almost sounded like he was trying to get us to drop the subject. Spencer seemed a little taken-back at the abrupt statement, but continued. "I know it's probably a long shot, but we should still-" Again he was cut off by Rossi. "She didn't get the hair from the unit." The room fell silent.

Hotch was the first to speak up and voice the question we all were asking ourselves. "She lied?" His dislike for this woman was evident in the way he spoke, and it was only growing. "When were you going to tell us?"

Rossi tried to play it off like Hotch was overreacting. "Whatever she did to get us here, we're here now." He shrugged. Hotch looked at him incredulously. "It's unacceptable behavior. Why do you keep defending her?" His voice was slowly raising in volume along with his frustration. At that moment I made a vow to myself that I would do my best to never make Hotch angry. The very thought of being on the other side of that anger was enough to make you feel small and insignificant.

Rossi seemed to be the only one in the room unaffected by Hotch's rising annoyance. "Because I know what she is." Hotch stayed silent, waiting for him to finish. "She's me 20 years ago." When Hotch spoke again his voice was low and even more frightening than before. "She is nothing like you, Dave."

Rossi rolled his eyes. "Come on, Hotch, I know what people think. I took serial killers mass market. Now everyone knows their names, but not the victims, right?" Hotch was unable to say anything. Rossi had a point, however much he wanted to deny it. "Somewhere along the line, I put myself first. I admit it. I can't go back and change it. But it's not too late for her." I was completely and utterly amazed at how Rossi was able to calm Hotchner's temper towards him.

Suddenly Prentiss was at the door. "Missing persons flagged a report that was just filed." She sounded like she was out of breath. She probably got here as fast as she could. Hotch let his gaze switch from Rossi to Emily after a long moment. "A possible victim?" He finally asked.

She flipped open the file she had in her hands and nodded. "The subject's car was found idling at a stop sign, and there was some damage to the back end." This couldn't be good. "Sounds like a bump and grab." Spencer threw in, Hotch ignored him. "Did she fit his profile career, age-wise?" Emily continued to scan through the file. "Katrina Townsley, 34. A reporter at the Chronicle." She read off.

Rossi looked up at her, something close to concern written on his face. "Chronicle?" And with that he was on his feet, out of the room and heading down the hall.

After going to Jill's office and finding her gone and a note from the killer on her computer, Rossi concluded that our murderer was looking to make agent Morris his last victim. At which point, Rossi and Spencer took off to find Morris using the GPS on her cellphone to track her down. I was still at the headquarters with everyone else, waiting for instructions from Hotch on what he wanted us to do next. I sat in the conference room, looking at the pictures of victims we had displayed on a large board for the team to see. I was lost in my own thoughts as I sat there, so you can imagine how much I jumped when my cellphone suddenly went off, its volume set to high. I could feel my heart beating rapidly from the surprise as I fumbled to get it out of my pocket.

I examined the number on the screen with confusion. I didn't have it registered, but it looked vaguely familiar. I bit my lower lip and pressed 'answer' on the screen and lifted the phone up to my ear. "Hello?" From the other end came a male voice that I recognized immediately. "Marie?" My eyebrows raised and I took a seat in the chair I had been sitting in before I was called. "Spencer?" Why was he calling me?

"Yeah, hi." There was a short pause on the other end, as if he was trying to figure out what to say. "Um, sorry. I couldn't get a hold of Prentiss, her phone might be off, and I remembered seeing yours written down on a file back at the office, and I just thought-" He was rambling, so I cut him off with a laugh. It's not like I minded, the whole team would have to get my number at some point so they could contact me. It was actually kind of funny how he felt the need to explain himself, like he had done something wrong. "It's fine, Spencer." I reassured him. "What's up?" Spencer seemed relieved at my response, his voice sounding much less rushed and embarrassed the next time he spoke.

"Uh, well, we just found Jill's phone on the ground, near her car. We have people searching the immediate area, but it looks like he already got to her. We're in a parking garage north of center city." I cursed under my breath. "I'll tell Hotch."

"Thanks. Rossi and I will be back once we finish up here." I nodded before I remembered he couldn't see me. "Alright, I'll tell him that too. Bye." I was walking out the door before I even hung up. "Bye." And with that the line went dead. I ended the call and put my phone back into my pocket, looking up just in time to see Morgan and Hotch walking towards me. "I just talked to Spencer." I said as I approached them. "They found her cellphone. It was by her car on the ground." I began to relay Reid's message. "On the ground?" Hotch asked, he knew what that most likely meant. "They're at a parking garage north of center city." I finished and Hotch looked concerned. I shifted my weight from my right foot to the left. "He said they'll be back when they finish up." Hotchner sighed and nodded.

"We just got a call from Garcia. The killer sent the e-mail from an internet cafe just outside Germantown." I nodded back, waiting for the instructions I knew he was ready to give. "Go find Prentiss, when Reid gets back we'll leave."

"Right." I didn't waste any time in my search and quickly made my way through the building, looking through the windows into offices. A woman's life depended on us working quickly and efficiently, and even if I wasn't too fond of her I still was going to do everything to make sure we got her back alive. I found Emily without much trouble, she was walking down the hallway when I nearly ran into her. I explained what we had found as the two of us made our way back to Hotch and Morgan.

This second Rossi and Reid were back we left. We needed Spencer to figure out an area where the killer might be hiding. With the places we now knew he was able to come up with three addresses that were likely to be within his comfort zone. We sat outside of the cafe while Hotch went inside to question the employees, hopefully someone had seen the man we were looking for.

When Spencer finished connecting the points we found there was a 4-mile radius in which the killer could be hiding. Morgan took out his phone, dialing the number for Penelope. He told her to bring up the city-wide list we generated for electricians, power company workers, and electrical engineers. The list of names was in the thousands so Morgan needed to narrow it down. He gave her the three addresses Reid was using to create the comfort zone and she added that to the search. Unfortunately there were still dozens. Hotch finished up with his questioning inside and returned to us.

"Is that Garcia?" He asked Morgan, who told him yes before putting her on speaker. "Search DMV records." Hotch said into the phone. "The manager thought he saw him leave in a white van." Garcia plugged the new information into the search and waited a moment for the results. Suddenly, she gasped. "Yahtzee."

We were already getting into the cars before she could read off the address.

To say I wasn't disappointed when Hotch and Rossi were the only two who would be going in with the rest of the squad would be lying. The two quickly threw on their bullet-proof vests and grabbed their guns. They followed in back. I understood why they only wanted a few to go inside, too many would be counterproductive, even deadly if things got out of hand. As I stood by the cars parked outside the house I could hear them break down the door, moving into the house. I heard them shouting "FBI" and "Freeze". I took a few steps closer to the house and heard Hotch shouting for a medic, from behind me a few medics rushed into the house. Finally, I heard the faint sound of crying. It was soft, barely noticeable in all the commotion. It was agent Morris. She was safe. She was alive.

For the second time that day I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding.