Morgan and Reid slowly made their way to the newest crime scene. Police tape was still surrounding the block. Crime scene techs were taking pictures of the surrounding area. Thy body had long since been removed, but blood splotches were still seen.

"This is pretty public. Right in the middle of the street," Morgan noted.

"It is. I'm wondering if emotion clouded his judgment, or he just doesn't care," Reid replied.

The two continued to walk toward the center of the crime scene. There were people around, but none that stuck out to the investigators. All of the people had curious looks and tiny bits of disgust on their faces.

The most massive pool of blood was underneath a light pole. There was a lot of spray exiting from that point. It was rushed. The two continued to survey the street. Out of the corner of his eye, Reid saw a shopping bag. Walking toward it and putting gloves on, Reid looked on the inside. It was filled with three pretty massive books. Inside one of the books was a receipt timestamped for last night.

Calling out the officers around him, "Is there a bookstore anywhere around here?"

Morgan, who had started to walk toward him, jokingly said, "I don't think this is the best time to get a new book, Pretty Boy."

Reid gave him an unamused look before looking back to the officers. A baby-face one nodded and looked far past the two agents. "There's one about a block away that way. You can't miss it."

Reid started to walk in the direction that the officer had pointed in. He ducked under the police tape and quickly walked. Behind him, he heard Morgan jogging to keep up with him.

"Reid, what did you find?"

Spencer slowed down slightly show Morgan the receipt in his had. Morgan took it out of his hand after putting a single glove on.

"This is timestamped a couple of minutes before the time of death. Maybe this was just a crime of convenience."

"The other murders didn't seem like that; they seem planned."

The two men quickly made into the bookstore. It was really impossible to miss. There were books completely filling the inner windows. They walked in to find a single person at the counter.

"Hello, gentlemen," the elderly man said. "How may I help you today."

"I'm Agent Morgan; this is Dr. Reid. We're investigating the death that occurred about a block away."

"Yes, it was quite terrible. Do you know who would do such a thing?"

"Not yet," Reid spoke, "but we found books that seem to be purchased from here last night."

"Well, I had only one custom... No! Tell me it's not true." The man started to frantically yell, scaring the two. "No, Mia. Please tell me it's not her."

"Sir, we need you to calm down," Morgan tried to reason with the man.

"Please tell me it's not her."

"Who's Mia?" Reid asked him.

"She was the only one here last night. I knew I had a bad feeling all night about it, but I just ignored it."

The elderly man started to walk away from the front desk. He went to a small room off to the side, and Morgan and Reid followed after him.

The small room was an office. The table had a small computer, and the rest of the area was covered in books. There was a corkboard on the other side of the room. It was filled with pictures from different events that had occurred. The elderly man went straight to the board. He pulled off a picture and handed it to the men. The image held the man, an elderly woman, and a blonde who looked exactly like the woman who was murdered just hours before.

"I'm sorry, sir," Reid softly told him.

The spirit in the man just left him. "Just call me Allen. Everyone else does."

"Okay, Allen," Morgan said. "How did you know Mia?"

"I've known her since she was a little girl. She would come here all the time. She would just sit in aisles reading a book. I don't know how many times I would stumble over her while I was restocking." Allen chuckled at the thought. "I asked her about it one day. She said that this was the best place in the world because it just wasn't one. She wouldn't buy anything; she would just sit there and read.

"After a while, my wife, Sherry, practically adopted her. She would have, honestly, if she had the option. She would leave cookies just for Mia whenever she would come in.

"As she grew older, she would come in less and less, which we just assumed was her growing up. Then, she suddenly started coming in every day. I didn't notice it at first-I was just happy that she was coming back-but she was wearing the same clothes every time she stepped in. I would ask her about it, but she kept silent. One day, she broke down to me late at night here and admitted that her parent's kicked her out, and she couldn't figure out where else to go.

"That night, I drove her to my house. As soon as Sherry saw Mia, she took her away. They were gone for hours. To this day, I don't know what happened; Mia just seemed happier.

"Mia stayed with us for a couple of years, eventually got her degree. Once she got a job, she moved out, saying she needed to be her own woman. Still, about every week, she would come back here after work and buy books. I know there was no way she finished all of them. I would keep offering them at a discount, but she refused. She would say it was payback for all of the years she wouldn't buy a book.

"She was such a good girl. Why would someone do this?"

"We're here to figure that out, sir," Morgan told him softly.

"Do you know why her parents kicked her out?" Reid wasn't sure why he asked the question, but he felt that it may solve a part of the mystery.

"She never told me. Her parents were uber-religious and very conservative. If I had to guess, they didn't appreciate that she was gay."

Morgan and Reid gave each other a look. This could be a clue.

Allen, noticing the look that the two gave each other. "Do you think this was a hate crime?"

"There's no way of knowing that at this point," Reid told him.

"When did Mia leave last night?"

"She left around closing, per usual. We made a compromise that I wouldn't drive her to her apartment if she called a cab. She would go outside about five minutes before the estimated arrival time. I would usually watch her from the window, but Sherry's sick, and I wanted to get some soup for her." After being silent for a second, he continued. "Do you think wouldn't have happened if I had stayed a bit longer?"

"There's no way of knowing that," Morgan told him.

"But it seems like I could have helped her."

"Or you could have gotten hurt yourself."

"I can't go back now," Allen quietly said to himself.

Morgan and Reid responded to the sentence.

"If you remember anything else that may be of help, feel free to call, Morgan told him, placing his card on the table now that Allen was spacing out on them.

The two men let themselves out, both deep in thought. The information they were given could go either way. It would have to be determined by what the others found out.