Author's Note: (Someone tell me to shut up if you hate the length of them.)
I finally managed to wring this chapter out and it is has worn me out and jump-started my excitement about this story again. With regards to updating, it kills me to say I can't make any definite promises.
Research Note: I know the bus line doesn't exist. I'm keeping the locations as vague as possible. I am not commenting on the situation with bus drivers Las Vegas specifically. These are just general comments about the state of the economy.
Chapter 10:
When the occasional Vegas tourist Googles "Last Stop Diner" they typically expect some sort of grim reaper theme. Instead they open the door to find the typical layout of a greasy spoon with the occasional metro bus-related artwork on the walls. They leave quickly when they see a crowd of mostly older haggard-looking men sitting at the counter.
But Brice knew the owner was a fairly good-humored man. When the owner Jimmy Sterns saw Brice and Reid enter he immediately put in an order a for a ham and cheese omelet and motioned for them to sit near the end of the bar where there were less customers.
"So what brings you to my humble corner this early Brice?" Jimmy asked as he poured them mugs of coffee. "And whose the runt?" he said with a note of sarcasm.
"He is tagging along to see a day in the life of a service coordinator," Brice said casually as this was the story he and Reid had come up with before-hand.
"Then maybe I should be adding whisky to his cup," Jimmy responded.
Reid looked down at the menu. Brice made it clear to Reid that he would do most of the talking before Reid could do his "profiling bit."
"Don't get me started," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Anyway I'm here to find out if any of the drivers around here are still making 'special' stops for any of my people. You know the old 510 was really messed up by the last round of budget cuts and there are quite a few homes in that area. I have a few who were stuck with some late work shifts recently so do you know who was driving evening shift of Friday night?"
The bell was rung and Jimmy ran to kitchen and returned with an enormous omelet. He placed it in front of Reid. "I won't tell you more until the kid eats half of it," he said flatly. "A pair of show girls from the Rio ended up here a few days ago and they looked twice the size of him."
Reid looked embarrassed. There was no denying the guy looked sickly. Brice tried to sound light-hearted. "It's not a bad deal Reid. I swear the food here gives you more energy than five cans of Red Bull."
Reid took a few tentative bites and then began to dig into it, looking slightly less miserable.
"Business must be good if you're doing charity work," Brice commented.
"Just trying to build my case for St. Peter to let me in the pearly gates, I am really sick of this hot weather," Jimmy said.
Brice couldn't help but chuckle. What he'd give to live closer to this place.
Reid had rapidly eaten through the half of the omelet. Brice laced his fingers together. "Okay Jimmy the guy held up his part of the bargain. Now tell me who did the 510 evening route on Friday?"
"The poor guy at the other end," Jimmy replied and pointed the opposite end of the diner where the sole occupant was a shaggy gray-haired man with a thick beard. He looked he was picking at his meal like as if it was burnt to a crisp.
"He just switched shifts and it has completely screwed up his clock," Jimmy commented.
"He looks familiar, what's his name?"
"Jake Sanford. The guy has been driving buses for twenty years and he is still just barely making ends meet," he said with disgust.
This was their cue to approach the guy. To his surprise (and relief) Reid finished the entire meal. Brice stood up and he followed suit.
"I promise we won't bother the guy for too long Jimmy," Brice said as he pulled out his wallet and threw ten on the counter.
Jimmy pushed the money back. "It's on the house so long as you slip a couple of them to Jake without him noticing," he said.
"No problem," Reid said and picked up sugar packet and did some sort of trick that made disappear in the palm of his hand.
Jimmy smirked. "There may be hope for you yet kid."
…
Brice and Reid sat on the left of Jake Sanford. He clearly looked like he wanted to be drinking something stronger than coffee.
"Hey Jake it's been a while," Brice said conversationally. Jake eyed him suspiciously and didn't say anything. "I'm Chris Brice. I work with a few people in the Baker Street complex. I was wondering if you encountered any of them on your Friday evening run. I am really worried about them ending up in the wrong parts of the neighborhood as the result of these screwy changes."
Jake didn't answer at first. He focused his attention at Reid. "Is he a cop?"
Brice laughed to Reid's chagrin. "Does he look like a cop Jake? Jimmy just force-fed him a meal. He's just my tag-along for the day."
"So he won't rat me out?"
"Not if he wants a job."
Jake stared at his meal. "I bent the rules at the 8:30 ride. This guy in his early thirties with thick glasses and one of those flash card rings and cloth grocery bags appeared on the stop before Octavian. He tearfully begged me to let him off at Montego Street," he said guiltily. "Look I got a cousin with that sort of problem and the parents still doesn't know what to do with him. I feel for them."
"I understand," Brice said soothingly. He then tilted his head thoughtfully. "That sounds somewhat familiar. I think a coworker of mine might work with him. Can you get a little more specific? Do you remember anything such as his race or his hair?"
"All I remember is how the guy looked a little tan and his black hair was a long tangled mess," he said.
Something he said piqued Reid's attention. "Mr. Sanford, where did the man sit after you let him on?"
Jake stared at him. "What does that have anything?"
Brice couldn't believe he had an answer ready.
"Well where someone like you described usually prefers to sit up front where he feels more alert to when the bus will stop and it has a calming effect. Others prefer to sit in the back where there they feel safe from notice. I'm doing research on the subject and I'd like to hear your observations."
Jake began to mull it over. "I think he sat in the back. Now that you mention it, I remember checking the mirrors to make sure he got a seat before I started up again."
Brice quickly glanced at Reid. They were testing guy's patience at this point. He gave him a quick nod and they both stood up.
"Thank you for your time Jake. I'll definitely pass the information along to my coworker with a word of thanks on your behalf. It's good to know there are still caring, hard-working people like you out there."
Jake grunted. "I don't see how it helps, but I'm trusting you to cause any trouble for me."
"Thank you Mr. Sanford," Reid said and patted him ever so slightly on the shoulder as they walked away. Brice didn't doubt the fact his wallet was missing a couple tens.
…
Once they left the restaurant and began to walk to his car Brice asked: "Okay Detective Houdini what did you learn?"
Reid looked quite pleased with himself. "That the man Jake Sanford described was wearing a disguise. The stop before the school is a mostly residential area so the man wouldn't have been going home from work. That neighborhood is of the middle class range though the houses are close together. Given the fact the college is experiencing severe parking accommodation problems. I have also noticed many of the faculty walking to the school from that direction. So I think the Un-Sub might be a teacher, especially since he sat in the back so Delia wouldn't notice him as she was trying to pay attention to the stops from the front."
Brice stopped and stared him. These were loose assumptions but something about the conviction in his voice made him believe in him completely.
"Reid do you know who the killer is?"
He shook his head but looked optimistic. "Not yet. I need to think to construct an image in my head and try to see how it might match something based on my photographic memory."
What he said reminded him of those computer programs where a face appears on the screen and you scroll through the options to find the right hair, nose, eye etc… Except Reid was doing all of this in his head.
"We need to go the school now," Reid said firmly.
He stared at him aghast. "Last time I checked the school was on lock-down."
"But I know how to talk my way in," he said in the same knowing voice.
"But I'm not sure it's worth the risk to meet the FBI yet since your thoughts while incredible still sound like conjecture."
Reid shook his head. "I don't want to speak with them. I want to talk to the students first." He suddenly pulled Brice's wallet out his sleeve. "When I get bored during my breaks, I like to practice some of these tricks. While most know by now not to bother me, I can't stop them from watching out the windows. In my rush to leave the tutoring session I forgot to tell the agents to keep an eye on their IDs at all times."
Brice didn't think he had ever seen Spencer Reid look so happy. He couldn't help but feel delighted also.
Reid still had more. "I also believe the Un-Sub is somewhere on campus. He is most likely planning his final murder today with everyone watching."