Morgan strode quickly to the porch, ignoring the greeting Junior offered. Loco realized Morgan's intentions, but by the time he tried to change directions, Morgan was already up the wooden porch steps. He failed to make it back to the door before Morgan grabbed him by the shoulders from behind, slammed his face into the front screen and wrenched his body around to face the other way.

"You made a real big mistake, pal," Morgan growled, wrenching Loco's right arm behind his back and sweeping a leg from underneath him to bring him down the front steps. Letting his body weight fall, Morgan pushed Loco onto the sidewalk, the lower man's hitting the pavement with a dry smack.

"Derek," Reid said nervously, "let him go."

"What's your problem, man?" Loco grunted. "Lemme go!" Morgan put his right knee between Loco's shoulder blades, pulling his left arm out into a straight lock and pulling upward. "Fuck, man, that hurts!"

"Derek!"

"Bet you wish you never set those scumbags on us now, huh?" Morgan said lowly into Loco's ear.

"What the fuck you talkin' about, man?" Loco cried. "I never called nobody in D.C.!"

"He's right, Derek," Junior said from the porch. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Morgan looked from Junior to Wheels, then down at Loco and to Reid. "You never sicked two huge guys on us?"

"No, man!" Loco yelled, near tears. "Let me the fuck up!"

Morgan stood up, yanking Loco to his feet by his locked-out arm. His nose and mouth were a bloody mess. "What the fuck's your problem, asshole?"

"Guess that'll teach you not to threaten people," Morgan said, walking toward the front porch. "We came here to see what you guys knew about the victims—something they might have had in common."

"Or to see if there's anything you might potentially know about the UnSub," Reid said, finally moving away from the SUV to stand next to Morgan.

"The what?" Wheels asked. He looked as though he was about to insult Reid, but thought better of it after one glance from Morgan.

"UnSub, it stands for Unknown Subject—the killer," Reid said.

"Look, all I know is that all the guys were found in the east end," Loco said, still shaken up and rotating his arm. "That was the first weird thing, none of them lived there."

"And they looked like they were sleeping," Wheels added. "Just laying there, asleep."

"And it's gotten worse since you've been here," Junior said, pointing at Reid. "Eyeball came a month after Ricky. Then Daddy-O was a month after that. Rodney was a month after him." He leaned against the banister, the chipping paint fluttering to the ground around him. "You showed up about a week after that. After you left, we found AJ a few days later."

"And Mikey was a week, maybe a little more, after that," Wheels said.

Morgan looked at Reid. "So there's a bigger stressor than what started him killing in the first place."

"Is there anything the victims had in common with one another?" Reid asked. "A place they all went…someone they all knew?"

"Most of us guys know each other," Junior said. "Eyeball and AJ were on parole…"

"And Daddy-O was on probation," Loco added.

"So we might be looking for someone in the legal system," Reid stipulated.

"Like a vigilante," Morgan suggested, pulling out his phone. "I'll have to call Garcia—see if any of their legal histories crossed paths."

Reid nodded. "We should get back, see what the others have come up with."

Morgan turned back to Junior. "Thanks a lot, man. I'll let you know if we find anything else." The pair walked back to the SUV.

"See you later, French-fry," Loco called, lowering a balled-up tee shirt from his bloody face to speak.

Reid turned around. "You know, Morgan just cleaned your clock. If you've got any common sense, you ought to shut up."

"'Scuse me?" Wheels said, coming to Loco's aid and eclipsing the porch steps. "Are you stupid or something?"

"Far from it," Reid said, opening the passenger-side door, "But I'd deduce that you are, if you take another step forward."

Morgan smiled, buckling himself into the driver seat. "Nice one, Pretty Boy."