Better late than never, right? I've actually come up with a new story idea and that has sparked more creativity than this one. If anyone has some time and would like to help me get this story done, I would love the input and assistance . Private Message me if you are really interested.

Please feel free to review, it does help.

Signal Mountain Police Department

Signal Mountain, Tennessee

Jason Gideon stared at the various pictures spread out across the conference table – pictures of the lake, the W Road, theatres and headshots of two still-missing actresses. His concentration was broken by the entrance of a very excited Captain Thomas.

"Agent Gideon, I have good news. My guys found some drag marks along one of the paths. The path begins at this parking lot." He handed Gideon a photograph. "It was a family-owned fresh market. It's been deserted for about a year now."

"Thank you." Gideon jumped up and walked to the door, yelling for Morgan. Morgan, sitting at an officer's desk, stopped mid-word in his conversation with Hotchner and Reid. "We know which path was used."

"Let's go." Morgan and Gideon began walking towards the door.

"Keep us up to date." Hotch called after them. "Reid, have you talked to Ann-Elise again?"

"Not yet. She seemed interested in helping though."

"Call her. Other than finding the path we have no new information and we need all the help we can get."

"I'll call her right now."

Residence of Ann-Elise Miller

Ann-Elise was empting the dishwasher when her phone rang. She grabbed the phone, looked up the stairs and quietly walked out the front door before answering the phone. She sat down on the top step and took a deep breath.

"Hey Spencer. How's the case?"

"Honestly, in need of someone who knows a great deal about theatre." Reid could hear her sigh over the phone. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine." Ann-Elise tried to put on her best happy-sounding voice.

"What is wrong?" Ann-Elise almost laughed, so much for her acting abilities.

"Karen is not doing well. I've tried to get her to . . . . get help – I've even called her doctor but he won't return my calls. His nurse said I have no right to talk to him . . . about Karen's condition without her permission."

"Ann, consider what she's been through, it is to be expected that she is still dealing with what happened." His instinct was to rattle off statistics of kidnapping victims and depression and suicide – he stopped himself, that wasn't what she needed to hear. "You are doing everything that you can for her. You are a great friend. . . ."

"I'm not doing everything I can. And . . . I . . . I don't want to leave her alone for too long."

"Leave her alone? Where are you?"

"I'm at home . . . we both are at my home. I don't think she's left the guest room all day." Ann-Elise heard someone clear their throat near Reid's phone.

"I hate to be insensitive but Hotch needs your help. Are you still willing to go into the office, work with Garcia, just for a little while tomorrow?" Reid heard her sigh again.

"I'll do it."

"Great. Look I know everything will work out – it will." Reid paused, listening to Hotchner's instructions. "Hotch has already gotten you clearance into the office. Do you remember where I met you last time? Check in there and someone will take you to Garcia's office."

"Tell him I said thank you. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Without saying goodbye, Ann-Elise ended the call.

Reid stood still, staring at his phone. He didn't like how Ann-Elise sounded, something was very wrong.

"Well?"

"She said she would do it."

"Reid, you don't seem so pleased about this now."

"She's dealing some things, with her friend, Karen. She's just worried – I am pleased that Ann-Elise will be helping us."

Ann-Elise burst into tears as she hung up the phone. She hated to cry – she thought of it as a sign of weakness and she always considered herself a strong person. She stayed out on the porch for a few minutes, giving into the tears; she felt too exhausted to fight them anymore.

When she felt she had cried enough Ann-Elise cleaned up as best she could and went back inside the house. At some point Karen had come down stairs and was standing in front of the television. Ann-Elise noted that she was still in her pajamas from the day before.

"Are you watching this?" Keeping her face down as much as she could, Ann-Elise peeked into the room; she couldn't even remember what she had been watching.

"No, go ahead, watch what you want." Karen grabbed the remote off the floor and started clicking through the channels. "Guess what I'm doing tomorrow?" She paused but Karen didn't even attempt to guess. "I'm going to help the F.B.I. with a case. Crazy, huh?" Again, Karen didn't respond. "Look, I'm going to run to the grocery store. I was thinking about making that rosemary bread you like later this week. Can I pick up anything for you?"

"I'm fine." Karen didn't look up.

"Alright. I'll be back in half an hour." Ann-Elise picked up her purse from a table and started to walk towards the door.

"Hey, do you remember where you put the extra key to my security box?"

"It is on the keychain in my jewelry box upstairs. Do you want me to go get it?"

"No, I don't need it right now. Hey, could you get me some chocolate ice cream?"

"You got it."

Signal Mountain Police Department

The next morning the team met to compare notes. J.J. passed out files as she spoke.

"The path is about a quarter of a mile long. There are no connecting paths."

"So whoever used that path had to have parked at the building." Gideon stood up at this point to continue the briefing.

"Exactly. The building where the path began is deserted but it's still owned by a local family – the Parr's." Gideon motioned toward Morgan. "We talked to the Parr family yesterday. The husband died six months ago from complications of a stroke he had a year ago. The wife was unable to keep the market open while taking care of her husband." Morgan stood up and pointed to a picture on the board.

"There were several tire marks found in the dirt behind the building, near the entrance to the path. According to the local P.D. it rained twenty-four hours before Ms. Novotny was found. There is a chance that the unsub left tire prints. The T.B.I. has already been given pictures and molds of the prints."

"So," Hotchner sighed, "we have an unsub with a vehicle, or at least access to a vehicle, who is familiar with the area and who has an interest in theatre and is obsessed with female characters who commit suicide."

"At least it is a start." Elle tried to make the statement sound positive.

Good Shepherd Cemetery

Chattanooga, TN

Wednesdays were Nancy Short's favorite day. Since retiring five years ago she had found service projects to be the best way to make friends, stay busy and feel needed. After meeting with several of the other ladies from the neighborhood, Nancy had driven the lead car of the caravan to the main entrance gate of The Good Shepherd Cemetery, second oldest cemetery in the city. The ladies unloaded the cleaning supplies from the trunks of the many vehicles and then divided up into various areas within the cemetery.

Nancy walked to the north end of the cemetery. She found this particular corner so quiet – it was the oldest section – the death years listed on the tombstones and monuments began as early as the 1860's. Nancy put on her gardening gloves and then picked up the hedge clippers from her box of supplies. Looking around she decided to start pruning the vines hanging over the stone border wall. As she got closer to the wall she became aware of an odor – a decaying, bitter smell. Curious, Nancy looked around, hoping it was a dead animal. To her horror she spotted a form on top of one of the above-ground vaults. Although there was a black cloth covering the form she knew it wasn't a dead animal – it was a human form. Too shocked to scream, Nancy dropped the clippers and ran back to the entrance.