After Spencer Reid strikes up a friendship with his new neighbor, a pretty novelist who might talk even more than he does, someone starts viciously targeting those closest to her, and Reid takes it on himself to figure out who's behind the attacks before it's too late.
Alex Keyes writes happy endings for a living. Maybe between trying to escape a killer bent on revenge and finishing the first draft of her new novel, she can convince herself and her adorable, helpful neighbor that they can find a happily ever after of their own.
The elevator jolted to a stop, splattering chestnut roast across the cream colored fabric of Alex's cable-knit sweater.
Damn.
The expletive floated through her mind, though she was too polite to say the word out loud. The other occupant of the elevator was the only neighbor on her floor she hadn't yet spoken to, and she figured it was best to keep the swearing to a minimum until she knew he wasn't as uptight as he looked.
He glanced up from his cell following the interruption to their trip up to the second floor. His eyes roamed from the needle wavering between the numbers 1 and 2 over to her. It was the first time he had made eye contact since stepping foot in the elevator. She was startled by how attractive he was; light brown eyes and slightly disheveled brown hair highlighted a pair of impressive cheekbones that could grace glossy magazine covers on supermarket stands across the country.
When he didn't say anything, just continued to stand there like a handsome slightly unnerving statue, she broke the strained silence. "I guess this is karma for being lazy enough to take the elevator up just one floor."
"More likely it's just a safety system malfunction." His answer could have been interpreted as a joking response to her light-hearted comment, except his tone was flat and logical as he spoke. Not a spark of amusement in those brown eyes.
"Right." She murmured the answer under her breath, breaking eye contact to look down at her ruined sweater.
His phone clicked rhythmically as he turned his attention back to the small screen. "If you soak that in vinegar and then add a paste equal parts vinegar and baking soda before you wash it, the stain should come right out."
"What are you? Some kind of walking encyclopedia or something?" She followed up this question with an inelegant plop to the floor. It was becoming apparent the elevator would be stuck for the immediate foreseeable future.
The clicking stopped. She had to crane her neck up at him to see his faintly amused expression. Not that his mouth stretched fully into a smile. It didn't seem capable of forming the full expression, but the left corner twitched briefly before flattening out again. "I'm a profiler for the FBI."
"I understood the last half of that sentence," she grunted as she pulled off her left heel. She had been planning a warm bath in her apartment to unwind after a long day of smiling, signing, and posing with fans, but it looked like a self-administered foot rub in a stuck elevator was the best she was going to get for right now.
He didn't join her on the floor. Instead, he leaned back against the far wall, his eyes tracing the movement of her hands. "I'm a profiler." His tone was patient and without condescension, as if he had given this explanation many times before. "We look at crimes from a behavioral aspect in order to determine the unsub who committed them."
She let out a soft groan as her thumb hit a particular sensitive spot on the ball of her foot. "Unsub?"
Her question was met with silence. She glanced up to find him staring at her fingers as they kneaded the stiff muscles of her foot. Clearing his throat, he glanced away, back to the arrow that still remained frozen between the two floor numbers. "The unknown subject."
"Ah." She replaced her left shoe and reached for the right. "Well, I have to say, – " she paused to squint at the nametag clipped to his shoulder bag, " – Dr. Spencer Reid, that's the most unique job description I've heard in quite a while. So you can tell things about a person just by making observations?"
His roving gaze traveled back to her prone figure on the floor, quietly studying her from head to toe. A blush crept up her neck from behind the collar of her cozy sweater, turning her ears bright red underneath the curtain of her blonde hair. She hoped he missed that detail in his silent perusal.
Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he tilted his head to the side, as if working out his findings to input them into an educated guess. "You have a job that keeps unconventional hours. Most likely a writer of some kind."
Her mouth dropped open. "You can tell that just by looking at me?"
"The coffee," he gestured to her half-empty cup. "It's almost ten o'clock at night. So if you're drinking something to keep you awake, you must have work to catch up on. And from the smudge of ink on your right hand, I'm assuming it has something to do with writing. Also, your nails are short and you have calluses on the ends of your fingers which implies that you type frequently."
She blinked at him like a startled owl. "Ok, wow, that was pretty impressive. Next you'll be telling my name and social security number."
He pressed a slender finger to the button on the panel with the number 2 etched into the shiny metal circle. "Alex Keyes. Though the social security number I would have to look up."
The sound of the elevator jerking up with a metallic clang smothered her squeak of surprise. Once it came to a halt and the doors slid open, he leaned down to help her up. Shoving her foot into her shoe, Alex reached out to take the proffered hand. His skin was warm and soft as his fingers tightened around hers, tugging her off the floor with a firm but gentle pressure.
Rebalancing the coffee cup in her right arm, she shifted her purse onto her shoulder and preceded him out of the metal box. Once they were both safely out, she spun to face him with a demanding look. "Ok, so how did you know my name? Guessing my job was impressive. The name thing's a little on the creepy side."
A full corner of his mouth actually moved this time into a half smile. "I might have cheated a little bit. There was a picture of you outside Pearlman's Bookstore announcing your book signing today. I walked past it last week when I was on that side of town to meet some friends."
That sounded like a more reasonable explanation, but she still wasn't entirely convinced. "You walked past a sign a week ago and remember both my face and name? Just from a random sign outside a bookstore?"
His shoulder lifted in a careless shrug. "I have eidetic memory. I can – "
"You can remember things with almost photographic accuracy even after seeing the image just one time." She finished the explanation for him. "I wrote a character once with that trait." His eyebrows lifted in a faint sign that he had been impressed by her this time instead of the other way around. "Well, thank god you're just freakishly smart rather than a plain old freak who goes around memorizing girls' names. I was afraid I might have to change buildings for a minute."
He didn't seem to know how to respond to that, so he just gave an awkward nod of his head. If she had to hazard a guess, Dr. Reid wasn't accustomed to having late night conversations with random females in the hallway of his apartment building.
Sending him a faintly pitying smile, she gave a polite nod goodnight. "Well, it was nice to meet you. Hopefully next time it won't be in a stuck elevator."
"Let's hope not." His mouth was back in its half smile now. He had turned around to walk toward his own apartment when she remembered one more question she wanted to ask.
"Hey." He paused mid-turn to look back at her. "How did you know the elevator was going to unstick when you pushed the button?"
"I was texting the super while you were rubbing your feet. He told me to just try hitting the button again to reset the system."
"Oh." She felt like an idiot. Her neck heated again in embarrassment, spreading the offensive blush all the way past her ears and to the tops of her cheeks this time.
Turning all the way back around, he graced her with a full on smile, nearly knocking all the breath out of her with the charm of it. She watched his lips move to form a few more parting words. "Don't worry. I didn't mind." Her gaze shot up from his mouth to his eyes, catching sight of a faintly flirtatious gleam dancing there. Had she really thought he was uptight a few minutes ago? However, as soon as it appeared, the gleam was gone again. His face was back to its impassive, observant mask. He nodded, excusing himself. "Good night, Alex. See you around."
With that he was gone, leaving her alone with her own thoughts and one hell of a first impression.