2
"I'm bad, and I'm going to hell, and I don't care. I'd rather be in hell than anywhere where you are." -William Faulkner.
Jason was oddly glad for the second body in his home. Charlotte had finished doing her make-up, the palate she used having been hidden in her things along with her phone, and was currently making an omelette for him. It was nice having someone to make him breakfast, even if said person looked ready to fall right back asleep into said breakfast. She was quick to get up but slow to wake up, which made sense seeing as she was an incredibly light sleeper.
"Agent Singer," he commented as she poured him a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "That must sound strange to you."
"It does, but not a bad strange," she admitted pouring herself a cup of coffee as well, the smell of vanilla creamer wafting into the air. "How's the arm? Being shot isn't really the best of times."
"I'll live," he said, sipping his coffee.
"I would hope so," Charlotte chuckled. "Foods ready, enjoy."
Breakfast was a quiet affair, and Jason was glad she didn't require conversation to enjoy her food. Charlotte finished her coffee and omelette. She got up from her chair and started to clean everything up. Charlotte was a fairly good houseguest, and he was happy to let her stay until she had worked at the BAU for a whole month. Maybe longer, it was better to have another gun in the house. Or rather, a knife. He could tell by the callouses on her fingers that she favoured a throwing knife more than a gun. The silver weapons were hidden in her duffle bag. He had made sure to point her in the right direction regarding her clothing. She was wearing a tank top and jeans and didn't out herself as an agent. She came and gathered her empty dishes and washed those as well.
"I have a few trainees that want to talk about the footpath killer," Jason informed her.
"Oh, the one with a stutter?" she asked. "Wasn't that due to an issue in his frontal lobe?"
Jason didn't answer, only giving her a secretive smile. Charlotte knew he was never going to give her the answer. She shook her head and turned the faucet off before grabbing a hand towel and wiping her hands dry. Well, she'd just have to fix her desk around the office. Jason was lucky. He got his own office. She'd get over it. He drove them to the office, his older vehicle well-known for security.
"Really? Y'all went and messed with my nameplate?" Charlotte questioned, looking at Derek with a raised brow. "How'd you move so fast?"
"We gotta haze you," Derek stated with a slight grin. "Baby girl did it. She's good at that."
"Ah, a woman after my heart," she muttered, fixing her nameplate, and sitting down at her desk.
She moved her folders around to give herself a better chance to do her paperwork. She soon grew uneasy when people came by with more papers and handed them to her. Was this part of the hazing? Or was this normal? She wasn't too sure; hunting came with the environment of old books and dead languages. She read through the papers and winced slightly. It was from the previous case. She needed to add her statement to it and sign off on it. She picked up a pen and signed off on the form before turning on her computer and booting it up. Charlotte forgot just how long it took for computers to boot up. She listened to the fans inside the computer start-up and gave it a startled look. It sounded like it was about to take off and fly around the bullpen. She rubbed the back of her neck as Windows Vista came up.
"Where'd you learn to type?" Spencer asked, looking over when he heard the sound of a keyboard.
"Good ole public library," she answered, quickly typing up her statement.
She did double-check it, knowing that her speed could cause her issues with her spelling. She sent it through and placed the form in her outgoing documents. She leaned back slightly and watched as Spencer began to ponder a chessboard. There were already moved pieces, and he seemed to be winning. She smiled slightly as she leaned against her cheek. No, he'd be in checkmate within three moves. Derek let out a breath and got up.
"Need anything?" Derek asked.
"Red bull, please," she requested, and he raised a brow. "I drink copious amounts of caffeine…."
"I'm good," Spencer said, not even looking up from his game.
Derek muttered something, and Charlotte made a face. It wasn't her fault that she slept like shit. The constant dreams and nightmares about future cases and past cases. Derek was quick, and she gave him a thankful smile for the drink. She cracked it open and took a small sip. Derek leaned back in his chair before filling out his own form. They watched as a group of trainees walked out of Jason's office, and he soon followed. He paused at Spencer's game and moved a piece. So, it had been a normal game, just played in intervals.
"Check," Jason informed him. "Checkmate in three moves."
"What?" Spencer asked, trying to figure out how when Jason walked away.
"You know, you'll beat him when you start learning," Derek informed him.
"Learning what?" Spencer questioned.
"To think outside the box," Derek told him.
"Try to be more spontaneous with your plays," Charlotte suggested. "You look like you have a pattern to your play style. It's almost like looking at a strategy book."
Spencer nodded at that and motioned towards the board. She tilted her head in thought before wheeling over to his desk as he reset the board. He was curious as to what her playstyle in chess was. They had the board all set up as Elle came into the bullpen from Jason's office. She looked at the two and raised a brow before centring on Derek.
"Question for you," she said, the first move in the game being played by Spencer.
"Shoot," Derek stated.
"The footpath killer, why did he stutter?" Elle asked.
"Come on, Elle, we've all asked him, and he won't say," Derek informed her. "He wants us to figure it out."
"I thought it was an issue with his frontal lobe," Charlotte stated, looking at the board in thought before moving one of her pawns. "I didn't get a confirmation."
"The frontal lobe is the part of the brain that has the Broca's area, which does deal with speech," Spencer agreed. "It's a logical thought."
"I'm up for a challenge," Elle stated.
"Good, because these go to you," a woman with long blonde hair and a light blue cardigan informed her, handing her a stack of folders. "Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, JJ, if you like."
"Elle," Elle introduced, shaking her hand.
"Greenaway," JJ continued. "Highest number of solved cases in Seattle three years running speciality in sex offender cases."
"Not bad," Elle said, slightly unnerved by that.
"I'm the unit liaison," JJ informed her. "My speciality is untangling bureaucratic knots. You'll probably be talking to me a lot. My door is always open because I'm never in my office. So, just call me on my cell, okay?"
"Do you have a business card?" Charlotte asked, not having the liaison's number.
A card was handed to her without a beat missing. JJ was then looked at in awe by the mid-western woman. First Penelope and then JJ, oh, she was going to have interesting co-workers. She loved it. Interesting people were the best ones to be around. JJ moved to leave and gave them all a pleasant smile. She went to leave the bullpen and passed Hotch.
"BAU team, can you meet me in the conference room, please?" he requested, not even stopping to look at them. "I need to show you something."
Spencer and Charlotte paused their chess game and got up from their chairs. Charlotte put hers back and trailed behind as they went to the conference room. It was a nice room, a bit small, but it worked so they could all hear each other and see one another. Charlotte grabbed her little notebook and her pencil.
"This is from the Phoenix office," Hotch informed them once they were seated. "Bradshaw College in Tempe. Six fires in seven months."
"Who recorded it?" Jason asked as Charlotte opened up a file and looked into it thoughtfully.
"A student with a digital camcorder," JJ answered.
Ah, so teenagers and young adults have always been the same. They'd always been ready to photograph or document horrible things. JJ began the video, and she watched. There were several things that Charlotte noted. One, someone had started a fire in a building, and two, it had been done as a distraction. She figured that last one out the second that gasoline was placed under the door and one of the boys caught on fire. He screamed in pain and panic as he dropped to the ground, and his roommate started to beat him with a blanket to try and smother the flames. That could've been personal, but she wasn't sure.
"We'll head out in ten minutes," Hotch told them, and they all nodded their agreement.
Charlotte tucked her pencil behind her ear and picked up her go bag. It was hoisted onto her shoulder as Spencer packed up the chessboard. He pulled on his coat and stretched slightly. No one was really looking forward to the five-hour flight, but it's what they had to do. The chessboard was set up when the jet took off, and they all had their seats. Elle noted that Charlotte sat closer to Jason than anyone else, which was a sign that she trusted him more than anyone else on the jet. She raised her brows when the little notebook came out, and the pencil was untucked from her ear.
"There are two common stressors for a serial arsonist," Spencer said as he carefully placed a piece down.
"Loss of job, loss of love," Elle added.
"When was the first fire set?" Derek asked.
"March," Hotch answered, and he quickly flipped through the file to find the other dates. "The next one was in May, and the third one wasn't until September. Two weeks later, there were three in one night."
"He's speeding up," Jason stated.
"It sounds like they were gone for the summer. Their stressor started in the spring," Charlotte commented, looking up from her notebook. "Once they returned, they started to make up for lost time."
"The fires will continue to get closer together," Jason confirmed.
"Reid, you have a statistic on arsonists?" Derek asked, typing everything into a laptop.
"Eighty-two per cent are white males between seventeen and twenty-seven," Spencer answered. "Female arsonists are far less likely, their motive typically being revenge."
"Sounds like our boy's a student," Derek commented.
"I wouldn't strike out a female just yet," Charlotte stated apologetically. "There are a lot of fires involved in religious properties. It could be someone acting through religious paranoia. Arson counts for fifty-two per cent of all church fires."
"We'll keep a female in mind," Hotch agreed, and she nodded.
"Don't rely too much on precedent," Jason warned them. "Allow for the unexpected."
He got a pair of nods out of the two. Jason didn't think he needed to worry too much about Charlotte thinking outside the box, her line of logic working well with Spencers. It was a strange blend of creativity and logicality. He fixed the position of his glasses on his nose and shared a look with Hotch.
"If he went from setting one fire to three in two weeks' time…." He trailed off.
"Rapid escalation," Hotch finished.
"He's gone from the power to damage a building to something more satisfying," Jason continued looking at the file in thought. "The power over life and death."
"Who are we talking to first?" Derek asked, pausing in his typing.
"Dean of students Ellen Turner," Hotch answered.
The jet went quiet, save for the sounds of ruffling paper and typing on keyboards. Hotch looked around at his team and noted something. They had split into very obvious groups, ones that seemed to mesh together the best. Jason, Spencer, and Charlotte were in their own group. He could see them playing a game of chess while thinking, and they seemed to be on an even playing field. Derek, Elle, and JJ were in the other group. They were the most likely to talk to someone and the more outgoing of their team. He was above both groups and could easily give them directions. He heard a huff come from Spencer and an amused sound from Jason.
"Check, checkmate in one," Charlotte quietly told Spencer.
"I should've played you in Wei-chi," Spencer said as he moved his queen, and she checkmated him. "I might've won that."
"I've been playing Wei-chi since I was five," she pointed out. "I've got twenty years with that game; I'd like to see your way of playing."
Hotch couldn't help but see that they had a bit of a competition between themselves, but it was friendly. Charlotte sat back when Spencer began to reset the board. He was going to be testing his moves. He had to win against Jason and Charlotte. Derek chuckled to himself as their new teammate went back to her folder. She looked up and noted that Jason was watching Spencer set the board. She smiled slightly and moved seats so he could have a better view. It landed her closer to Hotch, and she found it a little easier to ignore her boss as she went back to studying the case. She opened her notebook and slowly began to write down the personality type. She knew it was one person, and that was a gut feeling. What caused the stressor? That's where she was held up. They needed more information.
"Why do you know so much about church fires?" Hotch's quiet question pulled her out of her thoughts.
"I read a lot of studies about it," she said, which was the furthest from the truth that she could get.
Jason smiled slightly. She just effectively ended the line of questioning and went back to work. The jet experienced some turbulence, and she simply took in a deep breath, white-knuckling the papers in her grip. She would be happier on the ground. No question about it.
Charlotte let out a sound of disbelief as she peeled her leather coat off. Arizona weather was hot, and she had forgotten about that. She felt the sun on her shoulders and rolled them as she kept her jacket in the SUV they borrowed. Jason simply rolled up his sleeves, and the others kept their coats on. A black tank top was the best it was going to get with Charlotte. The campus was nice, and the students were incredibly curious about the group of FBI agents.
"No badges. I don't want to satisfy the Unsub's need for attention by letting him know he got the FBI here," Jason told them, heading into the main administrative building. "Try not to look official."
Jason looked back at the group and noted that the only one that didn't stand out was the only one with a visible tattoo. That had been a poor choice of words on his part. Charlotte refused to even meet his eyes, looking straight ahead with a serious expression. The only thing that betrayed her amusement was the slight twitching of her mouth.
"Try to look less official," was his next order.
"I'd rather be meeting you under different circumstances," Ellen Turner said, motioning for them to follow her.
Ellen Turner was dark-skinned and stood tall, a woman that refused to let anyone walk all over her. Charlotte respected her immediately; she'd known several women like her who had been wonderful friends. They had also been incredible hunters. She knew there was a connection there. She put her hands in her jeans pockets and noted the students walking past them. Ellen was leading them to see the crime scenes. A man joined them, and Charlotte nodded to him.
"This is fire inspector Zhang," Ellen introduced.
"This morning, the chemistry department reported several bottles of highly flammable chemicals missing," Zhang informed them.
"I'm prepared to evacuate this campus," Ellen said as they came up to a building, Jason politely opening the doors for her. "Thank you."
"That brings with it its own problems," Hotch stated.
"You might evacuate the arsonist as well," Jason agreed.
"Then the case goes unsolved, the campus is re-opened, and the fires start up again," Elle said.
"Which is what happened when summer break began, and all the spring and fall students left," Charlotte agreed before frowning. "It could also increase the lethality of the fires."
"Hotch, Gideon, hold on a second," Derek said as he thought back to something he heard. "You said the chemicals went missing today."
"Yes," Zhang confirmed.
"It says here that one of the previous fires was set with diesel fuel that disappeared from the grounds-keeping facility," Derek pointed out.
"In conjunction, it only took a day for the fire to happen after it was reported missing," Charlotte said, remembering the timeline.
Hotch and Jason began to talk to one another in hushed voices. Charlotte almost wished for better hearing than barely being able to see the future. She rubbed the back of her neck in thought. There was a pattern here, one that she had seen before. Spencer motioned to her with his head, and she nodded. They were going to take a look at the site of the fire together. Two pairs of eyes were better than one sometimes. She tuned them out as she looked around the room. It obviously belonged to two men, and the smell of diesel was so strong that her nose burned just the slightest. She looked at the scorch marks that outlined where someone had fallen to the ground. Her hand gently touched the carpet close to it, her eyes clouding just the slightest. She was starting to use what she had been gifted. Finding criminals was a new way to use it. She caught just the barest of glimpses of a girl. She was about to figure out more when a hand on her shoulder caused her to snap out of the slight trance.
"You all right?" Spencer asked, and she noted that his voice was far away from her.
"Yeah, just thinking," she answered, standing up straight as the hand on her shoulder vanished. "The diesel smell is still strong; I'm surprised that the entire dorm hasn't been evacuated. Only this floor."
"We need to regroup with Gideon," Hotch informed them. "The devices in question will give us more of an idea of our unsub."
Spencer left the room, and Charlotte followed, moving around the spot where the diesel had been spilt. She didn't want the smell of it on her shoes. She hated going to gas stations just because of the smell of fumes. She began to rub a finger against her lower lip in thought, falling silent. She moved her hand from her lip and to her forehead as a headache began to form. Using that foresight and then the fumes, oh, it was the best recipe for a throbbing headache. She wouldn't recommend it to anyone. They entered a small room, and Zhang brought out a box with a charred device inside of it.
"They turned the water off just before the fire," Zhang informed them. "The last three were set with these. Two devices, simultaneous ignition."
"There was no device used on Matthew Rowland," Jason pointed out. "Unsub set that one manually?"
"He wanted to be there, to enjoy the kid's death," Derek said.
"Not necessarily," Hotch stated.
"Well, if the target was Matthew Rowland, then why set the other two fires?" Elle asked.
"Motives for arson are relatively simple," Spencer said. "There's vandalism, crime concealment, political statement, profit, and revenge."
"Yeah, but Matthew was incredibly well-liked," Charlotte said, looking back at the interview that had been done with the roommate. "Unless he hid an incredibly dark secret, there's no reason for revenge."
"What about vandalism?" Ellen asked.
"No, the fires are too sophisticated," Elle stated, looking at the device a little closer. "And if he's trying to make a political statement, he's not being too clear about it."
"There's an underlying strategy in this case," Jason said, putting his glasses on. "Matthew, fire-fighters, injured victims. To the unsub, they're not people."
"They're objects," Hotch finished.
"Like chess pieces," Spencer and Charlotte said simultaneously, startling each other.
"Exactly," Jason agreed.
Derek and Elle looked between the younger agents and noticed they shared a look before shrugging. It happened when one got on the same wavelength as another. The group split once again; this time, Charlotte was left on her own. Her first since she was ten. A pair of sunglasses was held out to her, and she raised a brow at Jason. She accepted them with a thankful smile and hurried outside. She began to walk around the campus, trying to find someone that matched the vision she had. Even if it were blurry, the hair colour and length would help her get a basis.
"Singer," Hotch said, watching as she paused in her steps.
"I'm getting a feel for the campus and the students on said campus," she informed him, looking at the students around them. "The unsub will be around the buildings right now. We're on a time crunch."
Hotch found that to be a reasonable deduction, but he wondered how far that would take her. He instead joined, looking around. The students gave him strange looks, and eventually, Charlotte couldn't help but chuckle. It was a bit ridiculous.
"Sorry, it's a little funny just how much you stand out," she apologized when he looked over.
"Hey, see you at the party later!" someone shouted to Charlotte.
"Right!" she shouted back.
"You blend in too well," Hotch informed her.
She gave a slight nod of agreement at that and moved to the side as a student on a skateboard flew past them. It was awkward being around her boss. He was too cautious, too observant. Her problem should've been with Spencer, but he took her for how she acted. He didn't notice the way she strayed from people or the way she needed to find all the exits surrounding her. A large explosion went off in a nearby building, and her head snapped to the side to look at it.
"Shit," she muttered.
Hotch noted that she broke out into a sprint heading towards the building to help evacuate people. She opened one of the doors and motioned for the rushing students on the first floor to exit. They quickly travelled out of the building. Their rushing footsteps weighed down with backpacks, skateboards, and scooters. One girl simply threw her bag down and hurried out. Books could be replaced. Her life couldn't.
"Is everyone out?" Charlotte asked as a larger student quickly rushed out.
"No, one of the girls in the wheelchair is still back there," he answered. "I can't move her chair! Please help her!"
Charlotte nodded and quickly darted into the building. Her eyes watered slightly at the smoke coming from the upper floor. She heard someone yelling before coughing and quickly headed that way. She came across a girl. Her tan skin flushed due to her coughing. The chair was stuck against a stair, most likely happening due to the panic. Charlotte rushed up to her and knelt slightly.
"I'm Agent Singer with the FBI," she gently explained. "I'm going to carry you out, all right?"
"Yes," the girl consented.
Charlotte picked the girl up and placed her on her shoulder in a fireman's carry. With the girl secured, she quickly made her way out of the building. The larger boy came up to them with a relieved smile, and she felt her expression soften. Ah, so he really cared for the girl.
"I need to get her to the paramedics. Lead the way," she told him.
"Yes, ma'am," he quickly nodded.
The girl was dropped off at an ambulance for a health check, and the boy didn't leave her side. Charlotte walked up to Hotch and noted that he was looking up at the building with a frown. She stepped up and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. The unsub was getting confident and more violent.
"I want you to look around the campus, see if you can find anyone showing symptoms that would match the unsub," Hotch ordered.
"Right, give me a call if anything comes up," she nodded.
Hotch gathered that she'd find something, even if it were just a part of the fallen building. Charlotte walked around the campus a few times. She didn't have to worry about talking to anyone or acting a certain way. No, this was her in the mindset of a hunt. Her eyes quickly moved side to side from behind her sunglasses. There wasn't anyone around that matched her vision. She let out a low curse and sat down on a nearby wall. She twitched slightly when someone sat down next to her.
"Hello, Lottie."
She froze at the voice and looked over in disbelief. Ramiel was sitting there. This time his face was heavy with exhaustion, and his light blue eyes stared dead ahead. He looked sad. She sat up straighter and let out a heaving sigh. He was working harder than she'd ever thought he would be.
"What is it, Ramiel?" she softly asked.
"You seem to be settling in," he said, not answering the question as people passed them by. "You did good, but I do miss my favourite hunter."
"I'm the only one that gave you a single chance," she dryly stated. "That's why you like me."
"That, and you use the gift I gave you," he pointed out.
"I would like it to be a bit easier to use."
"Just keep practising."
"Oh, so it's like drawing?"
"Yep."
Charlotte got up, and Ramiel looked at her. She didn't say anything else, and neither did he. It was a final farewell. It was unlikely that they'd see each other until she finally passed. He gave a final nod and vanished from the spot. She shook her head and headed towards the nearest vending machine. She needed her caffeine.
"We've been at this all night, and we've got nothing," Derek said, picking up a photo and putting it back down. "We got fear, a touch of horror, and even a little panic. But where's the guy getting off?"
Charlotte simply took a sip of her third Redbull and sent him a strange look. She didn't even want to think of such a thing. She didn't want to see that.
"When asked about his motives, Peter Dinsdale said, 'I am devoted to fire. Fire is my master'," Spencer quoted.
"Okay, so who is our boy's master?" Derek asked, frowning as he brought out a lighter. "Ten-thousand-plus students and one has a serious fascination with fire."
"Fire-starting is one-third of the homicidal triad, an early predictor of adult dissociative criminal behaviour," Elle said. "If we looked in his childhood, we'd probably find all three. Bed-wetting, and cruelty to animals."
"Absent or abusive father, trouble with the opposite sex, chronic low self-esteem," Jason listed off. "MO will be dynamic, evolving. As fire-setting escalates, they thrive on panic and fear."
"That's the standard profile," Charlotte stated, running a hand through her hair.
"Based on hundreds of interviews," Spencer informed them.
"Based on precedent," Derek added.
"Everything the unsub should be according to research," Elle said, looking up at their whiteboard.
"But we're off the mark," Hotch said.
"Because of two missing elements," Jason agreed.
"Sex and power, the two motives that drive a serial arsonist," Derek listed off.
"And without them, we do not have a profile," Jason said, a humourless scoff coming out of him.
The table went silent, and Charlotte picked up her energy drink, finishing it off. The caffeine wasn't actually helping her for once. Instead, it seemed to make her more upset and less focused. That pounding headache was still there. Jason clapped her shoulder, and she gave him a slight wave. He was going to get something, and she wasn't too sure what, but she trusted him not to get caught on fire. Spencer tapped his fingers against the desk and frowned. He didn't see a pattern with the unsub either, which bothered him.
"We'll be heading up to the chemistry lab," Hotch said, looking over at Spencer and Charlotte. "You two are closer to their age. You might put them at ease."
"I don't know if I would," Charlotte shrugged. "But no problems there. It's better than me getting frustrated trying to figure out the unsub with the holes in our information."
"Most people in their early twenties have tattoos," Spencer said as they began to walk to the science building. "The only thing that would set you apart is your scars."
"Which is understandable," Charlotte admitted.
They entered the chemistry lab, and Charlotte paused for a few seconds. The dirty blonde hair, so dark it was almost brunette, caught her attention. It was the way that it was pulled back that caught her attention. That… that was the woman she'd seen in her slight vision. She mentally cursed. The entire chemistry department should've been put under suspicion. The use of homemade bombs should've raised alarms about them. Hotch watched as the two younger agents looked around the room. Charlotte stopped and picked up a few chemicals peering at them before gently setting them down. She'd recognized what they were, as did Spencer. They stopped touching the chemicals and instead looked towards the computers and components.
"Why don't you do the talking?" Hotch quietly said to Spencer.
"You would be a bit better than me," Charlotte informed the taller man with a slight smile. "You've got this."
"Hi guys," Spencer was so awkward that it got the student's attention. "My name is Doctor Spencer Reid. I'm an agent with the BAU, the behavioural analysis unit of the FBI, which used to be called the BSU, the behavioural science unit, but not anymore. They changed it to the BAU."
"Maybe you should've talked to them," Hotch mumbled to an overly amused Charlotte.
"No, he's doing good," she said, motioning towards the students. "They relaxed around him, his awkward demeanour closer to people they know in their personal lives. But… I'm keeping an eye on them. If the bomber was able to get in here and steal chemicals, then he's a part of the department. That door is nearly impossible to get into without obvious signs of forced entry."
"Right," Hotch said.
He hadn't been expecting that level of awareness from someone that he was constantly able to startle. His dark gaze settled over the students and noted the different nervous ticks that came from them. A few of them had a form of anxiety, something he'd seen with Spencer and Charlotte, from the slight bouncing of legs to the constant movement of their pencils. He put his hands into his pocket to create a sense of calm, which Charlotte couldn't seem to do. No, her shoulders were tense, and her arms were across her chest in a defensive manner. She didn't trust the students.
"It's part of the NCAVC, the national centre for the analysis of violent crime, which is also part of this thing called the CIRG, the critical incident response group," Spencer rambled on.
"What he's trying to say is," Hotch stepped in, taking pity on the young doctor. "We'd love to know how you can help us."
"May I, please?" A young man asked, standing from his seat and motioning for the lightbulb that Spencer was holding. "Thank you. See this?"
Charlotte took up her spot next to Spencer and looked at the lightbulb. There was a drill hole in the side, and she could easily guess what it could be used for. It was simple, so simple that it was incredibly efficient. No wonder it was impossible to narrow down who had done it.
"You fill this up with gasoline or anything flammable. Turn on the light, and boom," the boy said. "That's how it went down, didn't it?"
The girl, the one that Charlotte had noted from her vision. She was far too calm for this type of information. Her reactions were controlled. The rest of the chemistry kids were horrified that someone had done this, and the reactions were genuine. How did they miss this? Granted, she didn't know what she had been looking for until she touched the spot where Matthew had gone down.
"This stuff is all over the net," the girl said, lightly tapping her shoe three times against her stool and twisting a ring on her finger three times.
"Like how to create a Molotov or any simple explosion," Charlotte agreed, hearing the series of taps once again. "Potassium, sulfur, and sugar. Almost every item is available at any grocery store."
"Yeah, not exactly plutonium," the boy agreed, giving her a slight smile.
"But you don't need to be a chem major to know that," Hotch said, and she nodded, noting the taps.
"Do you think it's a chem student?" Zhang asked. Spencer looked at Charlotte, and she gave the slightest of nods.
"You wanna know what I think?" the boy asked. "I think it would be a good time to take the semester off."
He handed them back the lightbulb, and Charlotte looked back at the girl she knew was their unsub. She found herself standing behind Hotch as they went to the elevator. Her eyes wandered down, and her brows raised up in appreciation. A part of her quickly stopped herself from eying her boss. That was inappropriate. She shook her head as the elevator doors opened. The student with them held up a pair of keys and gave them a slight smile.
"You need a key to get it moving after ten at night," he informed them.
"What a stupid design," Charlotte stated, frowning. "What if there's a fire? Y'all could get stuck in the elevator. Asphyxiation is not a way you want to go."
"You seem to know quite a bit," the boy said, and she tilted her head.
"I read a lot of case studies," she shrugged, slightly uncomfortable with his flirtatious nature.
"So, what are you still doing here?" Hotch asked the student.
"I can't leave," he answered, and Charlotte was quite happy the attention was off her. "We've all got projects. Do you know how to solve the three-body problem? Computing the mutual gravitational interaction between the earth, sun and moon?"
Hotch heard the annoyed sigh from Charlotte and the slightly amused snort from Spencer. That snort was followed by a small "ow" when she gently smacked his bicep with a hand. She controlled her hit so it wouldn't hurt him at all. When they got on the base floor, Charlotte waited for them to all exit before walking out. She found a nearby vending machine and got an energy drink for herself and some water for the rest of the team.
"How many of those have you drank?" Spencer asked, accepting the water when she caught up with them.
"Five…I think," she answered with a slight frown. "It's the only thing keeping me awake at this point, so small blessings."
"Try not to drink too many of those," Hotch said, and she made a face.
He wasn't her father, and it wasn't like he could put her on suspension for a caffeine dependency. They entered their little temporary headquarters, and Charlotte passed around the rest of the water. Jason gave her a nod of thanks, and Derek looked relieved to have something to drink. Even if he wished it was a little more alcoholic.
"We got a call from the office right next to Wallace's," Derek informed them. "I just played it a few seconds ago."
"Play it again," Jason requested.
"Karen, I do this for Karen," a voice, layered to make it indistinguishable, stated. "Karen, I do this for Karen."
"Huh, they're doing this for Charown?" Charlotte asked, a strange expression on her face as they all turned towards her. "It means 'gods burning anger' in Hebrew, which makes sense seeing as God is seen as a figure of fire in several religions."
"You got that out of one listening?" Derek questioned.
"That and I'm used to hard-to-understand audios," she said, taking a sip of her energy drink. "Strawberry is not that good of a flavour for caffeinated beverages."
"That's your eighth one," Elle pointed out.
"Oh."
Jason watched as Charlotte went back to sipping on her drink, not understanding why their teammates were slightly horrified at how much caffeine she went through. Yet, her being able to understand the audio and tell them what it was helped quite a bit. It stopped them from searching for Karens that had recently been in a relationship that ended. Elle sat back in thought. So, they did need the occult expert. Strange how that played out.
"What if the unsub is one of the students leaving?" Elle asked.
"No, he's not done yet," Jason stated. "He's not going anywhere."
"I'm going to look into the chemistry students a bit more," Charlotte stated, looking at their information. "Something about them bothers me."
"I'll join you," Elle said.
They went to the office of records and inquired about the chemistry department. They needed to know who had access to everything and who was planning to evacuate the campus. Elle took a spot at a nearby table, and Charlotte took the floor, a few folders scattered around her. The other teammates scattered around, trying to figure out who would know about Charown.
"What got you into the occult?" Elle asked.
"My father," she answered. "When I was ten, he kicked me out of the house until I could recite the book of Solomon back to him… been stuck in the occult ever since."
"Remind me to hit him next time he ever comes around," Elle stated, and she got a thankful smile out of Charlotte.
"I can always try necromancy," she joked. "It's one of the reasons why I absolutely hate being called Lottie. I eventually ended up with a good father figure, which was nice."
Oh, she had seen the TV show Supernatural as a teenager and had found it interesting that someone knew enough about hunting to have a semi-accurate portrayal of it. It was even funnier that the man she saw as her father had a look-alike. Bobby Singer, or rather Jim Beaver, looked just like him if not a few years older. She lost him to an angel; nothing was left of him, and no one else remembered him. She started to dislike most angels after that.
"One of the girls in the chemistry department stood out to me," Charlotte stated, wanting to move the conversation away from her past. "She had really dark dirty-blonde hair and a cross around her neck. So, she fits the religious aspect, but so did two other students."
"Yeah, I have the two here," Elle confirmed. "Have you figured out why the Footpath killer stuttered?"
"I still think it's damage to his frontal lobe," Charlotte answered. "What about you?"
"I know that embarrassment makes a stutter worse and that when you're flustered, it's more difficult to control the articulatory musculature of the face," Elle said, and she got a nod of understanding from Charlotte at that.
"Look at you, sounding like Spencer and me," Charlotte couldn't help but tease.
"You did not just say that," Elle dryly commented.
A laugh came out of Charlotte, and Elle realized that was the first time that she'd heard the woman genuinely laugh. The soft sound had a light quality to it yet seemed unused. Like she hadn't had a reason to laugh in a long time. Elle tossed a ball of paper at her, and it was easily caught. The door opened, and Jason looked in. He got a wave out of Charlotte, and he motioned for both of them.
"The religion is definitely religious," Jason told them.
"We're running out of time," Elle stated as they reentered the room, and he went to their small whiteboard to write all the new information down.
"Are we looking for a theology major?" Derek asked.
"No, most theology majors wouldn't have any idea on how to make a bomb, even this simple of one," Charlotte shot down, motioning towards the light bulb. "And religion might not be the full reason behind the compulsion to start the fires. It could still be any other stressor."
"Compulsion," Spencer softly said in thought. "I'm going to watch Matthew's video again."
Spencer got a few nods of confirmation from his teammates as they broke away into separate groups to compile more information. Charlotte joined him. Her insight had been helpful so far. She sat next to him and listened to the video repeatedly as Spencer tried to make sense of it. The constant death loop made her a bit sick, but she'd stick by him. She thought there was something strange about the audio, but eventually, the caffeine began to wear off, and her eyes drifted shut.
Spencer looked over to ask her a question when he noticed that she had fallen asleep. He raised his brows; he thought that the constant flow of caffeine would keep her awake until the next week. She mumbled something in her sleep that wasn't quite English and folded into herself. A defensive position, something that protected her organs. It kept her safe. He got up and moved towards the little board, and grabbed a blue marker. He needed to think outside the box, three steps ahead. Jason opened the door as if checking on them.
"Outside the box, keep thinking," Jason gave him words of encouragement. "It's like chess, don't look at just the next move. Try to look three moves ahead."
Spencer nodded at that and went back to the laptop with the video. Jason didn't quite close the door at first. Well, it looked like Charlotte trusted another member of their team that wasn't him. Spencer made sense. They were close in age and very similar in the personality department regarding baseline personality. She knew he wouldn't do anything, and she could easily overpower the taller man if it came down to it. He slowly closed the door as the sounds of Matthew speaking started to play through the speakers. Spencer's attention was fully fixated on the video, and he enhanced it several times when he noticed something strange. The number of times the doorknob was rattled was odd. He watched as it happened, once, twice, and then a third time.
"Three times," Spencer muttered before reaching over and gently shaking Charlotte back awake.
"What?" She asked.
"I'm going to check something; can you write three on the board?" He asked.
"Yeah, sure," she stated, getting up and moving over to the whiteboard and grabbing a black marker. "You've got an idea, don't you?"
"I think so," Spencer admitted. "Do you want to come?"
"Sure, a little adventure seems fun right now," she shrugged.
They returned to the charred floor of the recently deceased teacher's classroom. Spencer was handed a small cloth with tiny bats and skulls printed on it to clean off the charred nameplate. He noted the three on it, a thoughtful expression on his face. He hurried into a nearby class, one that had barely been touched by the flames. He pulled down a notebook and flipped through it before picking up a binder. He found another coincidence. Professor Wallace, Tuesday at three. Charlotte was able to follow his line of thought.
"This is a compulsion," she stated as they hurried back to tell their findings. "This can get dangerous too quickly if we don't catch the unsub."
"Yeah," Spencer agreed, and they turned to their base building. "I know why the profiles never fit."
Hotch and Jason looked up from the photographs they were looking at. They stared at Spencer as he placed his briefcase down. He had found some information, and it had to be good if he had come directly to them.
"You were right to tell Morgan not to rely on precedent," Spencer stated. "The fires thus far have been completely task-oriented."
"So, once they're set, the unsub is done?" Hotch asked.
"Exactly, the unsub is not a classical serial arsonist," Spencer confirmed. "He's someone who uses fire because of a completely different disorder."
"Which is?" Jason asked.
"An extreme manifestation of OCD, obsessive-compulsive disorder," Spencer answered. "He does everything in threes, and if I'm right, he'll have to kill again."
"Threes…" Charlotte stated. "That's like the one student from the chemistry class that was tapping her foot. She always did it three times. And only three times, usually with anxiety, you'll keep tapping your foot or pencil until you find yourself calm."
"I want you to find her file. I know you and Greenaway were looking earlier," Hotch stated, and she nodded her understanding. "Come back to us when you find it."
"No problem," she stated.
Charlotte should've said anything else but that. The files were all in a mess, and it took her a while to go through them. She quickly placed all the male files to the side and started to look through the females. She grabbed a file, and a sharp pain went through her head, her eyes glazing over. Three, she could see so many pairs of threes. A red room with imagery she couldn't make out, but she could make out the chemicals lining a back wall. She looked down at the file. Clara Hayes. Charlotte found their unsub. She tucked the file under her arm and quickly left the room.
"I found the student file, but we need more records to complete the profile on her," Charlotte stated as she entered the room with the rest of the team. "Clara Hayes, she was there when we spoke to the chemistry majors and the one tapping her foot."
Jason gave Ellen Turner a call, and Hotch watched as Charlotte stood up straighter rolling her neck in exhaustion. She didn't want to fall asleep again, not until they were back in the jet and Clara was arrested. A bottle of water was held out to her, and she raised a brow towards Hotch before nodding her thanks and accepting it. They were the two people who had noticed something off about Clara, and Charlotte wondered how he picked up on her. She was impressed. His wife got lucky.
"Derek, she's a religious person," Charlotte said as she went with him and Elle to check out the off-campus apartment. "When a religious person goes off the handle, they start getting into the occult, and it always gets dark when they go down that route."
"I think you're going to end up scaring one of us one day," Derek stated.
"Aww, thanks," Charlotte stated, and Elle smirked.
One of the Arizona officers opened the apartment for them and checked the area. The small room was empty, and Charlotte gained a look of complete awe. She had said that the girl would've been involved with occult research, but it was more than she could've guessed. The walls were lined with words, pictures, and even bible passages. The red from the candles let her know where it had come from in her vision.
"OCD? I'm thinking more like OMG," Derek stated as the weapons were removed.
"OMG?" Elle asked him as Charlotte began to read the passages on the wall with a keen eye.
"Oh my god," Derek confirmed.
"A fire is kindled in my anger and shall burn unto the lowest hell," Elle read. "Deuteronomy."
"And again, the fire of heaven came down and killed them all," Derek found another.
"I do this for Charon," Charlotte stated, motioning towards a picture of the ferryman of the dead. "It's also the name of Pluto's only satellite. Over there is a passage about Moloch, the demon sun god of the Canaanites. To stop his wrath from happening, people would sacrifice their children to him by burning them alive."
"You and Reid should go on jeopardy," Derek stated.
"Hey, Morgan, do you know what magical thinking is?" Elle asked as Charlotte sent Derek a slight frown, not saying anything since their boss was on speaker so they could hear what was going on.
"Obsessive thoughts, like a superstition that controls them," Derek answered.
"Like step on a crack and break your mother's back," Elle stated as Charlotte pulled the beaded curtain out of her way to continue looking around. "Except she actually believes it."
"God tested her with fire, and now when three threes show up around another person," Elle said as she looked at all the objects in threes on a hanging shelf.
"God tells her to test them," Derek said, holding up a small fluid-filled container.
"Shit, where could she have gone on campus?" Charlotte questioned as she accepted some gloves from a nearby officer. "I'll search some of the notebooks to see if she wrote anything down. Sometimes compulsions can take form in writing."
"I don't think she would've left behind a day planner that says, set next fire here, written in it," Derek said, taking the phone off the speaker to speak with Hotch. "Yeah, I understand. Wait until you see this place. Charlotte almost looked in awe, and she's the only person I know who could match this strange level."
"I'll take that as a compliment!" Charlotte stated, moving to check the small room with Elle. "I must've missed this, sorry."
"Morgan," Elle called.
Derek walked up to them with the phone still in his hand. He looked at the homemade Molotovs in disbelief. He slowly put the phone back up to his ear and ran a hand down his face.
"There must be thirty homemade bombs in here," he informed Hotch.
Hotch acted quickly. He had them seal the building and get everyone out. Charlotte helped go door to door to evacuate the students. A few of them were confused about what was happening until the FBI badge was shown to them. Oh, she wished she had the real deal back when she had been hunting. People actually seemed to listen to what she said now. She shook herself before helping a student with her one-year-old child. She was carrying the small baby while the woman held onto her fussing two-year-old. The baby reached up with a tiny fist and grasped onto the long curly strands of hair that were freed from a ponytail. Charlotte chuckled quietly when the two-year-old was finally calmed down, and the baby could be given back.
"I want you to double-check the art building," Hotch informed her as they all met up, and she was given her own protective vest. "Pull the alarms and evacuate anyone that might be in the building."
"Understood, sir," Charlotte confirmed, pulling the vest on and an earpiece.
She headed to the art building. It was large and had wider windows than most of the other buildings. And more of them. She found it beautiful. She went through the door and pulled the first-floor fire alarm. She slowly moved through the rest of the building, a hand on the back of her pants where she had mace. Out of all the things they could've given her, the mace would be the least effective. She didn't find anyone on the first floor, and she quickly made her way up to the second. She went by way of stairs, running up and down them.
"It's clear in the old communications building," Derek informed them through their radios. "Anything?"
"Nothing," Elle stated, annoyance in her voice.
"The art building is completely empty. Not even the teachers are inside," Charlotte informed them, "I'll head down and get a few of the stragglers on the ground out of the area. Has anyone checked the science building?"
"No sign of her," Derek stated, and she cursed.
It was silent for a few seconds as Charlotte went down the stairs of the building and outside. The air had cooled a bit, and she shivered slightly before shaking her head. She had to pay more attention to the civilians around her. She didn't want them to get harmed by anything. They didn't deserve it. She brought her fingers to her mouth and got the attention of several students that were still out and about.
"All right, I need you all to evacuate the campus," she informed them. "If you can gather in the groups that are already there, great. If not, jump in your cars and go find a well-lit place that's safe."
The students nodded, and Charlotte listened in to her radio. Clara had been found and subsequently shot in the thigh. She released a soft sigh of relief and plopped down on a nearby bench. Whoever had taken the shot did a wonderful job of not hitting her in a dangerous spot. It was nice not to have to kill the criminal like she did when she went after monsters. It was so nice.
The jet was a welcomed sight after everything they'd gone through. The sun was back up, and she immediately closed the shudder so she could sleep. A pair of headphones went on her head, and she curled up in her jacket. Jason talked to Elle about the footpaths stutter, not giving her the true answer. Spencer took up a spot next to the out cold Charlotte and set up his chess board. Derek got his own spot and was listening to some music, nothing like the metal he knew that Charlotte had put on, relaxing after the difficult case. Hotch checked his messages to see if his wife had sent him anything. Jason eventually sat across from Spencer and Charlotte. He played the game with Spencer.
"Check in three," Spencer said with a small smile, liking how his style was changing.
"Not bad," Jason complimented before studying the board and moving his piece. "Checkmate. Don't worry. You're getting there."
Spencer frowned at that as Charlotte smiled slightly. Jason knew she had woken up the second he sat across from her. She gave him a wink before falling back asleep. Perhaps, he had gained more than one predecessor without meaning to. They were good kids, even if their backgrounds were completely different. He smiled to himself as Spencer went back to analyzing their game. It worked out in the end.