Garcia jumped awake from her springy armchair, as her David Bowie ringtone roared on. Straightening her dress (same one she wore a day ago) and clearing her throat, she routed the call to her desk phone, and paged the call through. Morgan was calling, and it was obvious, because she had a code display for every member in the unit. Morgan's was 'cocoa buff', a clear choice, as Garcia also liked having cocoa puffs.
"You have reached the office of the sleep-deprived, but still seriously mystical Penelope Garcia. How may I help you, sir?"
"Hey-"
"Pause it there. I see a magnificently sculpted man on the other side of this line. Could it be, could it be…" Garcia interrupted.
"Baby Girl," Morgan couldn't help but smile. "I need your help."
"Speak and be heard, my lovely." She sipped on her, coincidentally, hot chocolate drink. It was stale, and barely warmer than room temperature. She set the cup down, cringing in horror.
"We suspect that our Vic isn't actually Ruth Frasier at all. You think you could run a quick fingerprint analysis for us, and maybe- simultaneously locate the real Ruth Frasier? Her father claims not to have seen her around in the past week or so, so her partner was the one to report her missing."
"When you say 'partner', do you mean like a business partner, or a partner-partner?" Garcia asked.
"Partner-partner." Morgan smirked.
"Okie-dokes, and presto! Ruth Grace Frasier, born 13 February 1991 to a Walter Brendon Frasier, not be confused with Brendan Fraser, though she does have the looks. Oh, and a Mary Christine Frasier. Ruth here gives Doctor Reid a run for his money. Wow, she was accepted to accepted to both Brown University and Princeton with her near 2200 score on the SAT. Seems she decided to attend Georgetown instead, and she dropped out early last month for reasons unknown, but oh, I will find out. According to her Facebook statuses, and her Instagram page, she seems to be dating one Michelle Farer, and you're right, she contacted DC Metro three days ago to report Ruth Frasier missing," Garcia rambled, one habit that hadn't changed over the years. A loud beep resonated from one of her numerous speakers. "Whoop, I have fingerprint results, and wow, this is very complicated. So apparently, I put a rush on the DNA results, don't ask me how because I shouldn't talk about it, but DNA is an exact match, but fingerprints are a non-match, and it's been checked numerous times to no difference in results, my love."
"What if Ruth Frasier had a twin?" Gregg said.
"What?" Morgan replied, surprised that Gregg had overheard the earlier part of the conversation. He had only just put Garcia on speaker.
"How about an antibody analysis? Lupus." Reid said quickly after.
"Yes!" Gregg shrieked. "Identical twins naturally have the same DNA, so through an analysis like that, you won't be able to differentiate between who is who. However, twins are still prone to individual ailments, diseases, and they each build their own immune systems. Now, we'll refer to this big group of white blood cells, basically, like- lymphocytes and phagocytes, but what we're really concerned with is the lymphocytes because they produce the antibodies that help us to differentiate between two identical sets of DNA. All we need is a blood sample."
"And how do you presume we get a blood sample, assuming that this isn't actually Ruth Frasier?" Morgan reasoned.
"We'll have to find her then." Reid stared at Morgan.
"We can't be sure right now. Let the police investigate." Rossi said, his voice just about the level of the background noise. The place was flooded with the press, and paparazzi. Cameras were flashing every other second, mostly from hi-res cameras with long lens extensions. Everyone wanted a look at the victim.
"Agent Rossi, have there been any crimes like that so far?" A young woman asked, her cameraman grounded by her side.
"We are currently investigating the crimes here, so we can't divulge anything to the press." Emily replied in place of Rossi. She blinked as another flash went off from above. She assumed it was lightning. There was no sound. Another second later, another flash went off. She looked up to see a large man taking aerial pictures. "Sir, you can't do that!" She yelled, directing an officer towards him. At that instant, most of the news anchors and reporters made a beeline for the building's entrance as well. Suddenly, there was peace.
"This is a bloody nightmare." Emily murmured to Rossi.
"Can we get the body covered up, please?" Rossi shouted over to Gregg, still hovering over the body.
"Yes, sir!" He replied with a thumb-up.
"Do we have anything new, at all?" Emily asked. Rossi shook his head. This case would only become more complex.
"The CSIs had to use UV light so that the prints could be seen," a detective yelled; his voice fighting to be audible over the commotion from bystanders and press alike. "The rain kind of morphed it, but that isn't such a bad thing since we already have photos and collected whatever we needed to. At least in this case, those buggers can't get pictures of it."
"Well, we believe that our killer, or what we call Unsub, is organised and methodical, and killers like that usually follow the news about their crimes, so in this case, the lack of news coverage might aggravate him." Hotch replied, trailing closely behind the detective with JJ. "Our agents are withholding information for now to see if we can draw him out."
"Nothing we can really do about it. The weather struck faster than we could react. It is a pretty massive wall, in a pretty complicated neighbourhood, so all the more, right? We couldn't do much damage control, but I'm open to any ideas, Agent Hotchner."
"Yeah, we have Agents Rossi and Prentiss on that. They're speaking to the press. Hopefully, we'll be able to contain whatever we have here for the time being, but we're trying to get our Unsub to slip up. Also, has anyone revealed the identity of the victim to the press, detective?" JJ asked, meandering steadily through the streams of officials.
"Well, a hundred dollars goes on a yes. As far as I know, I didn't even hear about the earlier victims before I was assigned to this today, Agent Jareau. That's how much press the vics got before this one." The detective shook his head in disbelief.
"Officer," the detective finally stopped at the base of a tawny-coloured wall. The wall looked as if it had been sloppily 'attached' to the side of the building just as a final resort to keep it from keeling over. The paint had started to fade at the corners and in the centre, although it was mostly covered up with various forms of explicit graffiti in a multitude of colours, all faded now, of course. A grotesque, older officer peeled the crime scene tape away, giving the detective and the agents closer access. "Thanks, Jonas." The detective mumbled. "Right, I don't have a physical copy of the photo right now, but I believe Agent- what was it, uhm, Royce? No, Rossi, had a copy sent to him. I assume you haven't seen it?"
"Uh, we have seen it, but we haven't examined it yet." Hotch replied with a half-nod.
"You guys got tablets or something, right? I sent it to those. You guys and your federal funding, I can't even get new Kevlar for my guys." The detective snorted. "But jokes aside, I hope you have them now."
"We don't, but I can get Garcia to transfer them to us." JJ replied, as Hotch nodded. "It's already on our phones." JJ continued moments later.
Holding their bright screens to the side of the wall for comparison, the officer flipped the switch of a large panel of UV lights, turning the wall a shade of gamboge. A luminous cyan under the lights, the words 'I see you' were plastered across the middle section of the wall in a neat, straight line, about six feet from the ground (a quarter of the wall). The words looked to have been brushed on, with the bristle marks obvious at the ends and beginnings of all the letterings.
"No fingerprints found yet, and we can only confirm that the words were not written in blood, nor any sort of bodily fluid whatsoever." The detective folded his arms across his chest, and they rested precisely on his protruding belly. "Just out of curiosity- is this a common thing for you guys?"
"We can't say it is," Hotch replied after a pause. He looked at the (now) smudged letters on the wall. The rain had caused some of the ink to begin dripping down the façade of the wall. "But in whatever case, we don't particularly like unsubs that do this."
"And why not?" The detective asked, maintaining his stance.
"They almost always have an ultimatum." JJ mumbled back, gawking at the wall. "And those never end well, detective."
Author's Note: This chapter is more case-centric, but I hope it encapsulated the characters well too. You'll hear more from Will in the next one!