Victim's Eyes

by potterfanxp123

When your family is torn asunder, how do you cope? JJ seeks the answers to this question after tragedy almost destroys her family.

16. Chapter Fifteen: Massacre

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Massacre

"Soap and education are not as sudden as a massacre, but they are more deadly in the long run. – Mark Twain"

The plane was silent as it taxied down the runway.

The defeated looks about the members of Aaron Hotchner's team told the unit chief exactly what he needed to know. None of them felt right about the direction their case had taken, and while any case dealing with children was horrible, to take them off an equally horrible case simply because they were more convenient was a decision that none of them took great pride in. Especially not when, the unit chief knew, there were at least two other teams on call this week.

Still, as much as it wasn't fair, as much as he knew that none of them wanted to leave until Isabella Knightly was safely back home, the decision had been taken out of their hands. Not, Aaron admitted, that it was going to help them sleep any better tonight.

"This isn't right," Reid said a few minutes into their flight. "The probability of the UNSUB making a mistake now, when he hasn't in the past fifteen years, is astronomically high. He is too set into his routine, to deviate now. The only way he's going to make a mistake is if Isabella forces his hand."

"I know that Reid," Hotch said, his voice full of an anger that surprised them, "and you know that. But, unless and until we start running the bureau, there isn't anything we can do."

None of were shocked at the man's anger. They knew Aaron Hotchner was so angry because he had been chasing the UNSUB since he'd joined the FBI. The UNSUB's continued existence was a blemish on his record, and to get so close to catching him, only to be pulled away was something the man couldn't accept.

The team was silent for a few minutes, to give themselves time to calm down. Their emotions were running somewhat high at the moment, understandable given the circumstances.

"Alright," their chief said once sufficient time had passed, "None of us are happy about what's happened, but that doesn't mean we give anything less than our best. So, what do we know so far?"

JJ was the first to speak, looking at the faxes she'd just retrieved from Garcia. "There were a number of bodies, five, found at Las Vegas High School. The victim's ages range between the ages of sixteen and seventeen. Two of the victims were sororal twins, Charlotte and Melissa Gant, 17, whom were on the Women's Varsity Basketball team. Michael Winslow, 16, and William Carson, 16, were classmates and best friends, and both members of the Varsity Football team. The last victim, Shannon Mills, was 17 and the Varsity Cheerleading captain… I don't need to tell you all that media attention on this one is really high."

"No," Hotch said, "but thanks for it anyway. That will help to keep all of us on our toes. Do we have any pictures of the crime scene?"

"No," JJ said, "With the attention this case is getting, the LVPD didn't want to risk a leak getting a copy of them."

"That's fine," Hotch told the media liaison. "Alright, here's what we need to ascertain as fast as possible when we land: first obviously is whether or not they were dumped or killed where they lay, and second; who if at all, had access to the gymnasium at the time they were murdered. Once we have those things ascertained, Reid and JJ, will stay at the school, and do victimology as well as talk to the police on scene. Regardless, until we rule them, do not include any school personnel as part of the investigation."

The duo nodded, their faces set.

"Morgan and I will talk to the families. I don't need to tell any of you how delicate this situation is, so be careful what you say and who you say it too."

"Mon Capitan," the elegant voice of Penelope Garcia called from the laptop.

"What is it, Garcia?" Hotch asked.

"I think you guys need to see this," Garcia said. With that, the image on the screen changed. A live video feed replaced the woman, detailing the criminal past of the school janitor, whose name was being withheld, who was accused and convicted of domestic battery against his ex-wife. He was being heckled by parents and local reporters, as he was led out of the building, handcuffed. He was also the brother of a current teacher, the report stated, and was the only person of interest in the case.

"Hotch," Morgan asked, "How are we supposed to do our job now? The local police believe they have the right man already, so any part of our profile that doesn't point at him they're just going to disregard."

Hotch shook his head and said, "We'll need to be careful. Garcia, I want you to get started on the background checks on the staff. We'll be landing in two hours."

Garcia nodded.

"Get some sleep while you can, people. We need to be up and running when the landing gears hit the pavement."

April 17, 2005: 6:30PM

The plane landed without troubles, and the pilot let them know that they could start disembarking as soon as the portable stairs were in place.

"This still feels wrong," Spence said, his voice heavy with suppressed anger. JJ nodded, and rubbed his shoulder, before she said, "We know that, and we will return to La Grange, Spence. We will catch that sick bastard."

"I know that no one is exactly happy about this," Hotch said, "But we do have a case to solve. Yes, we all want La Grange to be our priority, but our orders come from above my head. When we get back to Quantico, I will be presenting a formal protest about Section Chief Strauss' behavior in regards to this case. Until then, we need to treat this case as we would any other case of its caliber. Am I understood?"

The team nodded, and settled into their game faces.

The trip to the school didn't take much longer than they thought it would, the streets were pretty clear. It was surprising; since they were in Las Vegas, but apparently, the state police had closed down the highway to make travel easier.

JJ stepped out first, and immediately separated to the media, where she started corralling them so the rest of the team could get away.

Spence absently listened to his partner's comments to the woman currently asking her a question about the deaths, and despite the fact that they'd just gotten off the plane, JJ didn't hesitate in stating that they were going to investigate the deaths as a homicide until such time they had no reason to suspect foul play.

He moved past her, and the two shared a look for half a second, before JJ averted her eyes too a male reporter that was pushing against the others in order to put a recorder into the blonds face.

When Spence stepped into the high school, which had closed down for the night, he stepped to the side to watch her. JJ didn't hesitate, upon noticing that they were inside. With a second to spare, she stepped backwards and said, "At this time, we are not taking any questions. When we have more information, we will call a press conference. Thank you for your time."

She smiled lightly for the camera that was still on her, and walked back too the walkway. An officer raised the tape so she could walk under it, and she nodded as she walked into the inner city high school.

"Are you the agents from the FBI?"

"We are," Hotch said, "Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. These are Agents Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid."

"I'm Officer Donna Lister, Las Vegas Police Department. We have CSI combing the scene, but they are taking all necessary precautions. Should we pull them out?"

"No, just let us see their pictures as they're printed. We'll also need access to the scene."

"I understand," the woman said. "Do you need a guide?"

"Agent Jareau and Doctor Reid will be staying behind too investigate the crime scene properly. They'll also want to talk to some of the first responders while Agent Morgan and I are out talking to the families."

"The families are all at the local precinct. We had them brought in to identify the bodies and requested they stay until you arrived," the LVPD officer stated.

"Thank you," Hotch told the officer, before he turned and said, "We'll meet at the precinct… and JJ keep Reid away from the casino's while were on duty, alright?"

JJ nodded and said, "No problem, Hotch. We know where our focus has to be, right Spence?"

Her young genius nodded.

"Doctor Reid, Agent Jareau, do you need a guide? If so, I'm sure we can get someone to show you around." Officer Lister said softly.

"No, we're fine," Spence told the woman, "I know my way around."

"You came to school here, didn't you Spence?"

Spence nodded and said, "I did. Some of the best and worst moments of my life occurred in these halls."

JJ nodded.

The duo moved through the halls like a couple of old pros, and it was amazing to see Spence's brain at work… even after all these years he could still navigate these halls with hardly a problem.

She almost stopped when they passed a smaller display case, where she swore she saw a picture of her boyfriend, all of thirteen years old, holding a diploma. But Spence either didn't see it, or ignored it, in order too get too the room they needed.

When they came upon the gymnasium, she was surprised to see the number of officers in front of the place. More than a few had sick looks on their faces, and one was putrid green, a sign the young man was close to loosing his lunch.

"Can I see some ID?" the officer standing at the tape asked as they approached. JJ pulled her ID, as did Spence, and held them out to the man. He said, "Agents," and held up the tape as they crossed under it.

They paused for just the briefest of seconds at the door, before they took a simultaneous breath and pushed through. The CSI team was using black lights to track pools of blood that had been either cleaned or washed away when they entered, but what was the most surprising to the duo was the amount of blood, or other liquids that showed up under the light.

"Can I help you," one of the CSI asked as they walked up to them. "I'm Agent Jareau; this is Doctor Spencer Reid, FBI. We need to canvass the scene."

"Feel free," the young man said his voice catching as he looked at the carnage around them. "We're almost done here."

When the CSI had left, they turned all of the lights on, and took a brief look around the room. The first thing eerily evident was the smell of blood that permeated everything. It seemed like the room had been soaked in the life-giving plasma.

That was the second thing eerily evident. The amount of blood was far more than anyone could imagine. Spence, she noticed, was staring at the blood as if a fascinating pattern had emerged. Knowing his brain, JJ mentally corrected the statement.

The third thing that was eerily evident was the flood drain that was in the middle of the large basketball court. The blood pool was travelling in that direction. That alone told the media liaison that an untold number of horrible things could have happened in the room.

The thought alone made her sick to her stomach.

She looked up, and confirmed the thought she'd had, that there were fire sprinklers above them in case of emergency.

"Agent Jareau, Doctor Reid, I'm Officer Stewart. I was asked to liaise with the FBI while you're in town. The rest of the team has left to check the other secured areas of the school."

With Morgan and Hotch

It was a gruesome job talking to the next-of-kin of any victim, Hotch thought to himself as they finished listening to the sobs of Maria and Jeremiah Gant, but so much more when the victims were the children of those next-of-kin.

It sometimes made him wonder why he'd chosen to transfer into this field in the first place. He could have had his choice of cushy assignments, and he would never need worry about whether or not Haley, or his unborn son, was going to be alright. And hearing stories of grieving parents was not helping.

As the last parent walked out of the office they'd commandeered upon their arrival, Hotch looked at Morgan, and he took a large sigh of discontent.

"These kids were almost identical socially," Hotch said. "Other than the obvious connection between Charlotte and Melissa Gant, we have the fact that all of the teens were considered prodigies at their given sports."

"We also have the fact that they had the same peers, Hotch," Morgan said, "Melissa Gant and Shannon Mills were best of friends, and Michael Winslow was actually dating Charlotte Gant. It's not a stretch to think that William Carson wanted to date Melissa, but from everything we've heard, he a socially awkward teen that enjoyed football."

"We need to have Garcia check into their financials." Hotch said to his partner, who already had his phone out and was holding the phone to his ear.

"Hey sweet tang," Morgan said a second later, after listening to Garcia's totally unique greeting. "Yeah, I know you hate this part, baby girl, but we need to know if the UNSUB would have any financial reason to kill these kids. Check the kids' financials, and if they don't have any, check the parents."

He laughed at Garcia's response, and said, "I'll do that, baby girl."

As he hung up the phone, he turned to Hotch and said, "She's pulling their financials now, Hotch. She also ordered me to pass a message along."

Hotch turned to him and raised his brow.

"Haley has ordered Garcia to have you call," Morgan said. "She just got back from her doctor's appointment."

Hotch's eyes widened and he cursed slightly before he picked up his phone.

"Hey Haley," Hotch's baritone voice said a few seconds later, "Yeah… I am in Las Vegas now. I'm sorry; I really wanted to be at the appointment."

He listened to his wife before he said, "I know, I'll make it up to you, I promise. What did the doctor say?"

Morgan looked at the man, and smiled as a look of brief euphoria crossed his features. He smiled, "Yes, honey, I'll thank him for you. How long did the Doctor say you were going to be on bed rest?"

He winced and said, "That long? When I get back, I'll ask for some time off too…" but he was cut off as Haley said something that caused the man to chuckle.

"I love you too," Hotch said softly. "I'll be home sometime tonight, hopefully."

"What was that about?" Derek asked Hotch as the man ended his conversation. Hotch said, "Remind me to give Spencer Reid a giant hug."

Derek looked at the man like he'd gone crazy, but shrugged and said, "I'll do that, Hotch… but you might have to fight off JJ if you want to get that close."

Hotch turned to the man, his patented glare on his face as he said, "What was that?"

Derek laughed and said, "You're to easy, Hotch. How is Haley?"

"She's been placed on bed rest for the next two weeks, she's having cravings for a ham and pickle with blue-cheese pizza, and she is constantly saying that she looks like an elephant. Other than that, she's wonderful."

Derek laughed softly for the briefest of seconds, before he said, "Do you want to see if the others are ready for dinner yet?"

Hotch nodded, and took out his phone. He pressed a button for his speed dial, and sighed when the phone answered on the second ring.

"Reid, its Hotch. Morgan and I are done with the interviews. Do you want to meet up for dinner so we can go over what we've found out so far?"

The phone was silent for a second, and JJ's voice came over the phone a second later. Hotch chuckled for a second and said, "Alright, we'll meet you there."

Morgan looked at the man as he ended the conversation again, and said, "JJ and Reid just left the school and are on their way here. They had the same idea that we did."

They sat around the room for the next half hour, throwing theories back and forth about the UNSUB and what he or she was trying to accomplish by murdering teenagers. So deep into their conversation, that neither noticed when the JJ and Reid entered and took seats beside them.

"Hey guys," JJ said ending their conversation. They both turned, and Hotch said, "Reid, don't look too far into this."

The young genius frowned for the briefest of seconds, before Hotch pulled the man in to a swift, one-armed hug, and released him just as quickly. "That was from Haley. She got the results on the baby back today, and he doesn't have 3-M Syndrome."

Reid smiled, and Hotch nodded glad to have gotten his point across to the young man. Then, as one, the four of them stood and exited the precinct.

They went to the closest Chinese restaurant they could find, and as one entered. The place was packed to capacity, but they were still invited in. The waitress informed them that they offered carry-out. Hotch sighed in slight relief, the adrenaline of the day having played havoc on his system.

Once they'd received the carry-out boxes, Hotch said, "did anyone think to call ahead and book a couple of rooms?"

JJ sighed, "I didn't have time between the cases, Hotch."

He sighed and said, "Hopefully we can find one that has open rooms. We might have to double-up, though."

"Actually," Reid said softly, "If… If you guys don't mind, we can all head to my house for the night."

JJ smiled at her boyfriend and said, "That's a great idea, Spence!"

"Your house, Reid?" Hotch asked in confusion. Reid blushed and said, "I grew up here, Hotch."

Hotch sighed and said, "If you have the room, that solves the immediate problem, Reid."

Reid nodded and said, "I have four bedrooms and two bathrooms," he told the man softly. "There's also a safe for our guns that I'll give you the combination too when we get there."

Hotch nodded again, "It'll only be for tonight, Reid. I'll call tomorrow and reserve some rooms, if the case looks like it's going to take much longer."

Reid nodded again and said, "That's fine, Hotch. Morgan, you'll need to take the next right."

Morgan nodded absently. Twenty minutes later, they pulled out in front of his two stories, tan and white house. Spence turned to the two and said, "I have electricity, and water, but not cable or internet. Until recently, I was the only one staying here when I came to Las Vegas, so I never bothered to have anything else turned on. That said, I do have a selection of movies, and of course more than one book if you want to read something. There's also a Blockbuster down the street, if I don't have what you want to watch."

The two men turned and said, "Thanks," before JJ took his keys and unlocked his door. Spence said, "She was the first person I ever brought here."

His teammate's eyes widened.

"Reid, if you're not comfortable with…"

He shook his head as quickly as he dared, and said, "No, it's not like that Hotch. What I meant is that I usually don't have guests over when we're at home, and other than JJ, you guys are the only ones I've ever brought to here. I mean…" he paused, and looked longingly at the door wishing that his girlfriend was here to explain his thoughts better, but took a deep breath, "What I mean is I want you guys to feel comfortable while we're here."

Hotch nodded gratefully and said, "Haley for one will be happy to know that we're safe for the night. Thank you, Reid."

"You're welcome," the genius said softly. As they entered, he sighed, "The safe is in the master bedroom… I never expected to have anyone over so never installed anymore; anyways the combination is 79-14-30-55."

Hotch and Morgan nodded, and after the young genius pointed them in the right direction, went to holster their sidearms. JJ came into the living room, her eyes soft as she approached him and said, "You handled that very well, boyfriend of mine."

He smiled and said, "Thanks JJ. But…" he frowned again, "Can you explain something to me?"

She nodded. "Why did Hotch hug me? Were they happy that their child did not have 3-M Syndrome?"

JJ frowned for a second and said, "No. What I know of Hotch and Haley tells me that they'd have loved their child regardless. But," she told him, "They were happy that there son was physically healthy, and Haley wanted you to know that she appreciated the knowledge you shared with them."

Spencer's face lit up and he said, "I'm glad I could help."

"I know you are, honey," JJ said softly. Neither noticed as Hotch silently walked back into the bedroom, his footsteps silent.

Dinner that night was a solemn affair. Thoughts ranging from their problems with the local UNSUB, and their abandonment of Isabella Knightly to the ravings of a deranged lunatic kept the team awake far into the night.

So, with nothing better to do, and with the knowledge that sleep would probably evade them for the next few hours, the team settled down into the large living room, a bundle of movies, and an extra large deck of playing cards between them.

JJ, nestled against her boyfriend, glanced at the deck of playing cards which to her seemed to be four decks placed haphazardly together, to the television before them, as the final images of the movie faded off the screen. Hotch, to the side, watched with a soft smile, as the last few images faded from existance, before he hung his phone up softly with a whispered, "I love you, honey. Sleep tightly."

Their chief had asked her genius whether he'd ever seen the movie, or not, and wondered if he'd feel offended if Hotch called to talk to Haley. When the woman asked what they were watching, like a couple of teenagers, the two of them synchronized the movie so that they could laugh and joke at appropriate times.

Her eyes naturally shifted to her boyfriend, who'd stared at the movie in confusion, before she sighed and realized she'd need to explain the idea behind watching suedo-romantic dramas, and the inherent idea behind them.

The only member of their team asleep, Derek was stretched in the recliner Spence said had been his fathers. They, naturally, were on the same loveseat they'd sat upon the last time they were here, and almost in the same position they had that first night.

Unbidden, her eyes moved to her boyfriend, as she felt his gaze upon her once again. She shuddered in slight contentment.

His eyes were watching her with a sparkle of amusement.

"Reid," Hotch said softly, as he stood. His knees popped from the position he'd been sitting in, stretched on Reid's short, black leather couch.

"Yes sir," her young genius said softly. She smiled, as the rumble in his chest coursed through her.

"I think I'm going to head to bed now."

She sat up and waited to see how her boyfriend would answer their boss. Reid looked at him and said, "There are two bedrooms upstairs, and one off the kitchen that are open, sir. Take any one you'd like."

The man nodded and silently bypassed the master bedroom, his boots making silent thumping noises as he made his way upstairs.

"Should we wake him up?" Reid asked, gesturing to their other friend and teammate. She glanced at Derek, who was slightly uncomfortable in the too small chair, an indication that Reid received his small stature from both of his parents instead of just his mother.

She walked over slightly, just outside of Derek's reach and said, "Morgan, get your ass up and go to bed."

He jarred awake and, with a sleepy grin, said, "Do the kids want alone time?"

She stifled her immediate response, a snort of laughter, and said, "I just thought you'd be happier in a bed, instead of where you are. Spence and I, however, are heading to bed, so we'll see you in the morning."

Derek stood, and he said, "Thanks JJ. Kid?"

After giving their friend the locations of the two rooms, he decided to also make his way upstairs, and gave the two of them a sly smile, before he said, "Sleep tight."

April 18, 2005: 7:35AM

A contented sigh echoed in her mind as JJ flittered back awake early the next morning. The events of the past day, the exhaustion from one emotionally draining case and the even worse exhaustion of having a second case thrust at them, washed away as a river of contentment flowed through her highly sensitive body.

She sighed in pleasure, her eyes fluttering open as the steady staccato of her genius' heartbeat flowed through her, and for an instant she wished, just for an instant, that they were back at home, or alone, so that she could take advantage of her boyfriend without the fear that their teammates would hear, and worse, be required to report their behavior.

She arched as she got up, and placed a tender kiss to her boyfriends slightly parted lips. Amusement filled her as his body naturally responded to her. She hated to wake her young genius, but the day had only just begun, and so with no small amount of regret, she ripped him from Morpheus' embrace.

His eyes opened softly, and wonder entered his eyes. It was a look that the woman in her never got tired of, but the Agent in her ruthlessly tried to suppress.

"Come on, lover, Hotch and Morgan will be up any minute."

Spencer Reid, PhD, groaned.

"I swear that our UNSUB's purposefully choose the most deranged ways imaginable to do the things they do, just so that they can interrupt our private lives."

JJ snorted, the attempt to suppress the amusement in her young genius' words in vain.

"You'd know better than I would, Spence."

Nodding, her boyfriend acknowledged her words and said, "I'll call about breakfast, JJ, if you want to go ahead and take the first shower."

"Are you saying I stink, Doctor Reid," she asked him, her eyes arching as she watched him in amusement. His eyes widened for the briefest fraction of a second, before he shook his head and said, "No, but I do know that you like to take a shower after first waking up, Jennifer."

"That sounds like a good idea," she admitted softly, going to stand, before his hand wrapped around her wrist, and his other cupped her face. Her eyes widened in shock, before he raised his lips to hers. Unconsciously, she moved to cover him, and for the fraction of a second, she wondered if her boyfriend had a bit of an exhibitionist in him, before he pulled away from her and said, "Good morning, Jennifer, I love you."

She growled playfully as she rose to her knees, straddling him as she felt tightly restrained arousal press against her, before she said, "I love you too, and breakfast sounds wonderful."

With that, she reluctantly separated, and walked into the bathroom.

With Reid

His eyes watched as she left the room, unconsciously following the sway of her hips as his beautiful, vivacious girlfriend sashayed from him. A lump lodged itself into his throat, and for the briefest of seconds, he wondered about the direction of their relationship, which to him have seemed to move as fast as a light year.

Still, the young genius couldn't help but smile at the lingering feeling his girlfriend's lips caused him.

Silently picking up the nearest phone, Spencer dialed the number for his favorite restaurant in this part of town, and made reservations for a table of four. For a moment, he thought about placing the orders for his teammate's favorite breakfasts, but thought better of it.

Quickly going to the closet, Spencer gave the items held within a cursory glance, and for the briefest of moments, he pulled out a large, plastic bag, and wondered about his intentions of having JJ wear this particular outfit one day in the near future, and if that would be too big a step.

Cautiously placing the bag back into the closet, he bent down and got their ready bags, and pulled JJ's last clean outfit from within. He then hesitantly looked inside his, and noticed that unlike her, he didn't have anything that he could comfortably wear.

The creak of their bathroom door drew his attention, and Spence turned around, and felt his breath leave his chest. The vision before him was ethereal, and for the briefest of moments, he felt his brain shut down as his eyes crept down his girlfriends' towel-wrapped, slightly glistening frame.

"Like what you see, Spence?" she grinned as he stepped forward automatically, before he seemed to remember that technically they weren't at his home on vacation, but as a matter of professional courtesy to his team, and he stepped backwards.

"Very much, JJ," he gathered himself. "To be honest, I'd like nothing more to unwrap you, and…" he trailed off, his brain reengaging as he saw the smoldering look in his girlfriend's eyes.

With a hesitant step forward, he passed her the outfit in her ready bag, and with a muttered apology said that it was the only thing she had that was clean, and that he didn't have enough for her to return the favor. She looked at him with slight disbelief and said that she'd think of something, before shooing him into the bathroom.

Neither noticed the bedroom door close.

His shower ended more quickly than he would have imagined, and Spencer made his way to the safe, grabbing the guns, one at a time, and readied them for service, before he placed them in a box he had sat inside just for this scenario. Turning to the bed, Spencer saw a clean, pressed outfit that he'd not worn in almost three years laid out before him, with a note atop it.

"For the record, I'd like nothing more than for you to unwrap me too, JJ"

For the second time in as less than an hour, his brain shut down.

Silently, he made his way downstairs, less than fifteen minutes after he'd entered the bathroom, to see his teammates sitting in his kitchen, a pot of coffee on the table in front of him. He absently counted the four cups, one of which his girlfriend already had poured out as if waiting for him to come downstairs. Absently, she passed him the fuller of the two.

"Thank you, JJ," he said softly, before turning to his unit chief and said, "I hope you slept alright, Hotch, and I thank you for staying."

"Thank nothing of it, Reid," their chief said, "I slept wonderfully."

"Yeah kid, better than any motel, that's for sure." Morgan said.

"If it's alright, I've made arrangements for us to head to breakfast before we go to the precinct. It's only five minutes away, and it's one of my favorite places to eat while I'm here."

"Lead the way," Hotch said.

Las Vegas Police Department: 8:30AM

The team was energetic, almost confident as they arrived later that morning; the doubts, and anger, of the day before gone, as they determined to catch the person murdering young teenagers. Hotch's face was set in stone as he approached the captain, Mitchell Straighthand, and demanded an update.

The captain's face twisted into a cool smirk, as if he had suddenly found himself in a position superior to that of the FBI's best. The man was confident, and he approached them with the swagger of a man assured of his position.

"Captain Straighthand," Hotch took the lead, "I'm sorry we didn't get to meet yesterday. My team hit the ground running, as it were, so I hope you understand. I'm SSA Hotchner; with me are SSA's Morgan, Jareau and Doctor Reid."

"Mighty good of you folks to show up," the arrogant captain said, a smile on his face. "We've got the suspect in interrogation, and my guys are working him over. You're free to look in, but it looks like the case is already over."

Morgan looked at Hotch; whose shoulders tensed as the captains words hit him.

"Well," JJ said softly, "We all can hope that this is resolved peacefully, but I'm sure that we'd like to take you up on your offer, Captain."

The captain looked at her, before his eyes widened, and he swept his eyes over her. JJ resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably, and was relieved when Derek, catching the man eying her, stepped in between the two of them.

"Our… our interrogation room is this way. But, like I said, we're confident we have the guy."

The team followed the captain through the sweeping halls. No words were heard as they walked through, just in time to hear a hand slam down on a table.

"Listen Jenkins," the cop standing over the large, well-muscled man said, "we get it, those kids probably tormented you everyday. A man like you, who's been on the inside, won't take any disrespect from kids a third your age, right?"

"And lets face it," his partner said, a smug grin on his face as he looked at the man, "Your record speaks for itself, Jenkins. You beat your wife so badly that the woman fell into a permanent coma."

"I've already told you people I had nothing to do with this. Sure, that Carson kid was always causing me trouble, but the Gant kids were alright by me. Hell, I didn't even know the other two!"

"Of course you didn't, those five kids were the most popular kids in the school, as a member of the staff, and you'd be in a perfect position to get close to them."

"He acts like he's telling the truth," Hotch said turning to his team. Derek nodded.

"What do you mean," JJ, the only member of the team that hasn't trained to read body language, asked?

"There are various cues the body has that indicate whether or not a person is lying," the good doctor turned to his girlfriend. "Eye position while telling a story is one such indicator; Mister Jenkins looked down and to the right, which means he's accessing his memory while talking to the interrogators. That means that what he was saying, he was remembering. If he'd looked down and to the left he was accessing a different part, and was fabricating everything he was saying."

"Or," the captain said behind them, "he could be a really good liar."

Hotch turned to him and said, "We're not discounting that possibility, Captain. Right now, we're trying to get a feel for Mister Jenkins' personality. My team is going to want to do a new search of the school, and if possible, we need to talk to Mister Jenkins."

"Why?" the captain said, "He's a good suspect."

"Wouldn't you rather he be the right suspect?" Hotch asked the man, his eyes staring at the captain. The captain nodded.

"Alright, I'll tell my guys to work with you on this, and I'd appreciate it if you do the same?"

"We will," Hotch said, "JJ, I want you to stay here and coordinate with the local police. Morgan, have Garcia pull the financials for all of the staff at the school, including Mister Jenkins and his sister, and have it sent to Reid. Then, I want you to speak with the Winslow's and the Carson's with the other victims, and asks them if their children had any contact outside of school. Also ask about Melissa's relationship with Michael and see if there were any problems we'll need to know about. I'll talk to the Gant's and the Mills', and ask the same things. Reid, I need you to head to the school, and search for anything out of place, and I'll have Garcia send you the information on the staff that are of interest if any.

Don't go looking to prove or disprove Mister Jenkins guilt, look at this as any other case with an unknown subject. If Mister Jenkins is guilty, our profile will tell us."

With that, the team split.

With Hotch: 9:00AM

Hotch left the precinct soon after he arrived, and climbed into the standard issue SUV without pausing for a break. He groaned in frustration, before he grabbed his keys, and started the engine. With a roar, he was out of the precinct, and down and into the streets.

By the time he arrived to the first of the two stops he'd need to make today, he was filled with exhaustion. Last night was filled with terrors he wouldn't wish on any of the various UNSUB's he'd investigated over the years.

So, as he pulled into the driveway of Shannon Mills' home, he was mildly relieved that there were only two cars in the driveway. Quietly placing his badge on his lapel, and his gun on his side, Hotch climbed out and schooled his features.

Silently, he approached the door, and stopped to consider the arrangement that the Mills' door presented. They had an old fashioned knocker on their door and beside it a depressor for a doorbell. Mentally cataloguing the reasons behind it, he chose to go for the knocker itself, on the off chance that is what they would prefer at this time.

He heard a loud yell of what seemed to be frustration, and a door slam, and was about to break the door down, when it opened roughly, and a small child, a little girl of about six, opened the door.

He frowned. Nothing indicated that Shannon had a sister.

"MOMMY THERE'S A STRANGE MAN AT UNCLE JAMES' DOOR!"

He winced, but was glad that the visitors were family instead of well-meaning, but less understanding, friends that had no emotional attachment to them.

"Can I help you," a woman of twenty-nine asked as she opened the door?

"Ma'am, I am Supervisory Special Agent, Aaron Hotchner, with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I need to speak with James and Michelle Mills, if it's at all possible."

The woman eyed him for a moment, before saying, "SSA Hotchner, I'm Special Agent Lisa Mills. Please come in."

His eyes widened as he stepped inside.

"I'm surprised that your team was assigned this case, Agent Hotchner, with what was going on in La Grange. But, I'm glad you're here none-the-less. My superiors have ordered me to not pursue the case, so at least I know that one of the best is on the case."

He nodded as she continued, "I'll get my brother, Agent."

"Thank you, Agent," he said softly.

A few minutes later, a man entered. It was obvious that he had been drinking. A few seconds later, a second woman entered the room, and sat beside her husband, no less drunk, but under the circumstances that was understandable.

"As I said to Agent Mills, I'm Special Agent Hotchner. My team and I were sent to investigate the deaths of your daughter, and the others, at the school. I know that platitudes don't mean much, but for what it's worth, I am sorry for your loss."

"Do you have children, Agent Hotchner," James Mills said suddenly.

"Not yet," the man said softly.

"Then please save us your platitudes," Michelle said angrily. He nodded, but noticed that Lisa's eyes widened at his answer. He shook his head, only a fraction of a second, but she noticed it and sat back.

"What makes your team so special that my sister couldn't have handled the investigation with her team?"

"My team has been specially trained to read the motives behind any death, and to be able to find, based on precedent and historical knowledge as well as our knowledge in human nature, and build a profile of who the murderer is."

"They really are the best, James, that's why I was so surprised when he introduced himself. His team in particular has a ninety-seven percent closure rate, which is about the best in the entire bureau."

"And our cold cases are never forgotten," Hotch assured the man.

"Then ask your questions, Agent Hotchner," Michelle said.

"I need you to know that some of these questions are standard, and do not actually reflect any way on our opinion of your daughter. But, they are often personal, and so I apologize in advance.

"Have you noticed anything odd about Shannon in these past few weeks that would cause you to worry about her mental health?"

"Do you mean like drugs and things?"

He hesitantly nodded his head.

"Lisa told us that would be one of the first things you ask," James said to the man, who shot the other Agent a look, but focused his attention back to the man. "No. She experimented once a few years ago and felt so horrible afterwards that we had to take her to the hospital, or she would have died. She swore to us that she'd never again take drugs again, and as far as I know, even stopped hanging out with the group that had pushed her too them."

Hotch nodded, and said, "I'm glad she learned her lesson after the first time. So my next question concerns her daily schedule. It is our understanding that your daughter was the Varsity Cheerleading captain at her school. Can you tell me about what her hours were in response to that?"

"Shannon," James said with a slight hiccup, "would always wake up about six thirty in the morning, and be out the door by seven. School starts at eight. For the first hour in the mornings, she and her teammates would work on their conditioning, and their cheer programs. After school," James said, trailing off.

"After school, our daughter claims that she and the others on the squad would always do another workout, but never got home until after five. We think that they would head to the Football teams practice and watch."

Hotch nodded, remembering his own high school days.

"Do you remember anything different in her schedule the day that your daughter died?"

Both nodded almost immediately.

He looked at the other agent in the house, who immediately bowed her head in shame.

"We received a call after the last bell of the day. It was Shannon. She said that she was asked to stay behind to attend a meeting with some school staff about the new rule. We assumed it was some sort of student protest, and was proud of her for standing up for an unjust decision made by their principal, Harold Henderson."

Hotch filed that information away.

"Did she know the Gant's, Carson's, or Winslow's, socially?"

"She was friends with Charlotte and Melissa growing up, those three were always inseparable. When Charlotte and Melissa tried out for the basketball team, Shannon was there to cheer them along. Some of the other girls teased her for cheering on women, but those two always appreciated it. And yes, she did know William. They have been dating for the past five years."

"Our research showed that William was interested in dating Melissa Gant, not that she was already in a steady relationship."

"That would be hard to accept, Agent Hotchner, as Melissa was a lesbian."

That, Hotch thought, put a spin on things.

"So what about the rumors," Lisa asked, then blushed as she apologized for speaking out of turn?

"Oh, Melissa didn't want anyone else to know. But, when the school, not the board mind, passed a rule that lesbian or gay students were barred from being on sports teams, she approached Shannon, one of the few people she'd trusted with her secret, and asked if it would be possible to 'date' William.

Shannon agreed, with the understanding that William would be told that there were no actual feelings between them. They were going to implement the plan this week, with a huge blow-out between my daughter and her boyfriend, and they would avoid each other in the halls until the issue was settled."

"Your daughter was a good friend," Hotch said softly.

"That's good to hear," James said, "We always supported her, and she never gave us a reason to withdraw that support. Sure," the man said, "she had her bad days, and when they arrived, they were horrible, but overall, I was proud of her."

"I have one more question, and…" he trailed off when Michelle turned and said, "My daughter had dated William for five years, Agent Hotchner. I'm sure, at some point, they became sexually active. But, if they had, she never told me, and I never had reason to be suspicious."

He nodded, and said, "Alright, I thank you for your time, Mr. and Mrs. Mills. Agent, would you mind coming with me really quickly?"

She nodded and said, "I'll be right back, you two. Would you watch Sophia until I return?"

"Of course," James said.

Once outside, he turned to her and said, "I'm sure, with your resources, you have a different perspective of your niece's relationship with Mister Carson?"

"Of course, but it's as they said, nothing too suspicious to worry about. I can confirm that they were sexually active, had been for two years after a slight mishap caused them to break up for a few weeks, but there were no indications that there was any other kind of trouble in their relationship."

Hotch looked at the other Agent, and said, "Thank you, Agent Mills, and please accept my condolences."

"Accepted," the Agent said before closing the door behind him.

This case just got a bit more curious…

He approached the SUV, and pulled the phone from his pocket.

"Morgan, its Hotch. Make sure to ask Mr. Carson's parents about his relationship with Miss Mills, and get their opinion on Lisa Mills. Yes," Hotch said a soft frown on his face, "I am saying that Miss Mills, and Mr. Carson were in a long-term relationship. See if he talked to his father about any problems. Yes, I'm on my way to the Gant's home now… alright, keep me updated."

As the thoughts running through his head about the case took a steep turn, Hotch took the first left he came too and sighed.

Now, he needed to speak with the Gant's…

With Reid: 9:11AM

Spencer stepped quietly into the school; his feet echoing in the quiet, empty halls. Around him, ghosts of his past haunted him. Hastily, he closed his eyes to tune out the memories. Garcia's search had already come up with a list of suspicious behavior that he had every indication of investigating.

He took his left at a long, loose hall that stood empty. He quietly, observantly made his way too the fourth room on the left side, and entered without a knock.

Inside, a woman slightly older than him sat behind a desk. She wasn't on Garcia's list of suspects, but if memories were anything to go by, she would have an ear to the ground.

"Hello Alexa," he said softly to the woman who had, so long ago crushed his budding puberty. He silently cursed his eidetic memory, when Garcia had returned him a list of names of the current staff, separated too that was suspicious, and who wasn't, he was surprised to see the name of the girl that had almost destroyed him emotionally.

Her head jerked in surprise, and she gasped as she looked at a picture on the back wall of her classroom. His eyes moved there independently, and he was surprised to see a picture of himself holding his diploma, surrounded yet solitary amongst the masses of his fellow graduates.

"Hello Doctor Reid," she said softly in response. "It's good to see you again. Are you in town for the reunion?"

He paused, doing the mental calculations, and realized that their graduating class reunion was this month. That, he could do without. With a small shake of his head, the genius pulled his badge.

"I assume you're here about the murders?" she asked. He nodded his head. "Yes," the doctor said. "Our technical analyst gave me a list of teachers that have alibis for the time of death, and also for those that have no criminal record. Your name came up on both of those lists. So, I was wondering if I could speak with you about the current state of affairs."

"Of course," she said awkwardly, "Come on, I'd rather not have this conversation in the school."

He stood.

The walk back to his SUV was packed with tension, and he could feel a crushing weight he hadn't felt since the first time JJ told him she loved him settle itself onto his shoulders. Stealthily, he looked at the woman that had one time held his heart, and had nearly crushed it, and wondered if she still remembered that day as vividly as he.

"What do you need to know, Doctor Reid?" she asked, looking at his badge.

"What do you know about the victims? Were they in any of your classes?"

She nodded. "I've taught all of them at one point or the other, as have most of the teachers. Charlotte and Melissa were both in my sophomore and junior Spanish classes. Michael took introductory to Spanish before he transferred to French at Charlotte's behest, and William, of course, was the TA for his classes. I only met, and taught, Shannon through the squad, but yes, I knew all of them."

He nodded. "So, you'd have an insight into their lives? Could you tell me anything about them?"

"Charlotte and Melissa couldn't have been more different. Charlotte had five different boyfriends during her years here, and was always flirting with anyone that would look twice at her. Melissa I've never seen with a boyfriend, and she didn't have many male friends, other than Michael and William. She was friends with Shannon, though.

Michael was Charlotte's most current boyfriend, and the two have been dating six months, with is about five months longer than any of her other relationships. There was a rumor a couple of months ago that he proposed, and that she turned him down for some personal reason, but their relationship was stronger for it.

William and Shannon have been dating for as long as it seems most students remember. They started, from what I understand, the last day of their seventh grade year… and were even planning to go off to college together.

Shannon is really the only one I didn't know that well. She and Melissa were friends for years before ever coming here and there was never any indication that there were problems in their friendship, but about two years ago, during one of her few rough patches with William, she and Melissa spent two weeks avoiding each other. The rumor was that Melissa was the cause of the break-up, and that they were mad at each other.

Once Shannon and William got back together, there was a newer aspect to their relationship. I'm sure that is when they started having sex, but I was never able to get either of them to admit it to anyone."

Reid nodded, and was about to ask another question when his phone rang. Curious as to whom would be calling him, he answered on the second ring.

"Hey Hotch, what can I do for you?"

A frown covered his face, and he looked at Alexa Lisbon, before he said, "Hold on, Hotch, I'm talking to a teacher that Garcia cleared now. Can you give me a second to speak with her? Thanks," he said before turning back to her and said, "Our chief was just talking to Shannon Mills parents, and they informed him about a new rule that your principal had enacted about homosexual couples and sports."

She nodded, "It wasn't one of the most popular decisions, and there are a number of openly homosexual students in our school, many of whom are involved in sports-related activity. Many of them are already involved in a relationship with other members of their team, and none of the other students were ever bothered by it.

One of the cheerleaders, Heather Hillman…" she winced at the girl's last name, "was involved with a member of the Women's Varsity Basketball team this year, supposedly, but would never tell anyone whom. She was forced off of the squad because of this rule, and the schoolboard has been sued by GLAAD and the ACLU because they claim that this local decision was a violation of our students' rights."

Spencer noticed her hesitance, and said, "What aren't you telling me?"

She sighed. "Heather is my goddaughter…" as if that was enough. And to Spencer Reid, it was.

He nodded, ignoring the ice that melted down his back at the implications, and said, "Thank you. Do you know of anything that would have taken place after school the day of the murders that would have caused them to stay behind?"

She shook her head slightly. Spencer sighed, knowing that it was well worth the effort, and said, "Alright. Thank you for speaking with me… I'll need to speak with a couple of your colleagues, but I believe that your information is most helpful," before turning away from the woman.

As he approached the school, mentally accessing the list Garcia had sent him, his eyes caught the sight of the football field, and he winced.

Shaking the loose thoughts from his mind, he steadied himself and walked inside the school, and went to his next interviewee.

With Morgan: 9:00AM

If there were three things Derek Morgan hated, it would be having dates interrupted, talking to UNSUB's and having to talk to the families of deceased children.

And not, he thought, in any particular order.

As he pulled up too the converted duplex that the Winslow's lived in, the tall, well-muscled man knocked softly on the door. At the moment, he had to do number one on that list.

A burly, visibly intoxicated man opened the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked a tilt of anger in his voice. Derek raised his badge and said, "Mister Winslow, Derek Morgan, FBI, I was hoping to speak with you about your son."

The man eyed him confusedly, before he said, "What's Dwayne have to do with any of this."

"Is this Reverend Winslow's residence?"

"It is," the man said… then his eyes widened and he said, "You want to speak with Mark about Mike?"

Without waiting for an answer, the man turned and said, "MARK A FED IS HERE TO SPEAK ABOUT MIKE!"

The door opened, and a man nearly identical to the first entered the room, and eyed him uncomfortably.

"Marcus Winslow?" Derek said a second later, realizing that he'd missed the part where the victim's father had an identical twin, and said, "Derek Morgan, FBI."

"Please, sit." The man, dressed in his Sunday's best, gestured to the chairs to the side. "I'm Reverend Marcus Winslow, my brother Michael was just leaving when you arrived."

Derek noticed the wince when he said his brother's name.

"Reverend," Derek said, "I apologize for interrupting you at this time. On behalf of my team, I'd like to offer my condolences for your loss."

The holy man nodded, and bowed his head as he said, "Your condolences are well-received, Agent Morgan. Is there anything I can do to help?"

The Agent nodded, and said, "I need to ask you some questions about your son and the other's that were found at the school."

"Go ahead," he said, "But if you want to speak with my wife also, she's currently over at her sister's house. She couldn't sleep here last night, too painful. I suggested that she should go…"

"That's understandable," Derek said, "And if I get enough information here, I won't need to bother your wife."

"Then ask your questions, Agent, and I'll do my best to answer them."

Derek nodded.

"Have you noticed anything odd about Michael in these past few weeks that would cause you to worry about his mental health?"

"No," the reverend said. "I know he wasn't doing drugs, as part of being on the football team, he was tested regularly. And, his relationship with Charlotte was moving along very well, even better considering the Gants are white, while my son, and I, is not."

"And your wife," Derek said looking around at the pictures. In all of them, a white woman stood reverently beside the reverend in many pictures.

"Helen is not Michael's birth mother," he said hesitantly, "but adopted him when we married when Michael was three. She did, however, raise him from just slightly after his first birthday, and considered my son hers in every way."

"Do you mind if…"

"His mother died during childbirth, and Michael knew it."

"Alright, thank you for your candor. Then getting back to his relationship with Charlotte; do you know if they were sexually active?"

The reverend shook his head. "No. No they weren't, to my knowledge. When they first started dating, Michael told me that one reason she'd had so many boyfriends is that they kept pressuring her to give up her virginity. He said that he'd had a crush on her for so long, that he was going to do everything in his power to keep her, and to make her happy.

And every time I saw them together, it was obvious that they were happy, Agent."

"What were your son's hours like? What did he do during the day?"

"Well, my son was always up before seven, but never left for school until twenty minutes before it started. Most mornings, Charlotte would come over for Morning Prayer, and to spend an hour or so with Michael before they had to leave together.

They were in school from eight until just after three, every day, and then he'd be home well after five; football practice."

"Do you remember anything different in his schedule the day that your son died?"

"I received a call just after class ended for the day. Michael said that he, Charlotte, Melissa, William and Shannon were organizing another protest because of an unjust rule that the school had just passed."

"Did that strike you as odd?" Derek asked the man. The Reverend shook his head. "No, my son was always involved in some kind of community action. He and, especially Charlotte since they started dating, were always trying to bring about change in their own way. The subject of the protest wasn't unusual, they'd organized three since that new Principal introduced it to the school."

"And any signs that their relationship was in trouble?"

"No," the reverend said with a smile, "in fact, when you talk to Jeremiah and Maria, ask them if Charlotte left her engagement ring home that day."

"They were engaged?"

"They were. We asked them to keep it between the families for now, but Michael asked her to marry him on their six-month anniversary and she accepted without hesitation."

He nodded and made a note to call Hotch. It was as he thanked the reverend for speaking with him, that his phone rang and he answered, "Morgan. Hey Hotch, I was just about to call you too. I'm just finishing up with Reverend Winslow. What do you have for me? Let me get this straight, you're saying that that the Mills girl and the Carson boy were dating? Alright," he said looking at the reverend, who didn't look surprised. Alright, Hotch, I'll ask him when I get there… just so you know, Michael and Charlotte were recently engaged, and she usually never wore her ring out of the house. I will, Hotch, and I'll pass the message along to JJ and the boy wonder."

After he hung the phone, he turned to the Reverend and said, "Sorry that was my boss giving me an update. He'd just left Shannon Mills' home, and is heading to speak with Charlotte and Melissa's parents now."

"Thank your team for me, Agent Morgan. And please tell Jeffery, when you see him, that I will be by later to speak with him."

He nodded and left, after thanking the man.

With JJ: 9:50 AM

JJ eyed the whiteboard that she'd been putting pieces together on. She'd just gotten off the phone with Hotch, when Morgan called and, at the end, asked her to pass a message along to Spence.

Sometimes, she envied the rest of her team. They had no idea how many times that she wished she could go out into the field, if only to get away from the leering looks of local LEO's.

And today was worse, because the one leering at her was the one in charge of the entire unit…

She began placing the information Hotch and Morgan had just given her on the whiteboard, first pictures of all the victims, and how they were connected to each other.

The others kept asking her why they were investigating the victims instead of tracking down the evidence they needed to prosecute Mister Jenkins.

That conversation didn't end well, and she was almost afraid that Captain Straighthand was going to request that they leave. Still, Hotch and Morgan only had one more stop to make a piece, and she was asked to call her boyfriend.

Pulling her phone, she depressed the two, which she'd assigned to his speed dial ages ago, and held the phone too her ear.

She smiled when he answered on the first ring.

"Hey Reid," she said, emphasizing his name with a huskiness that she barely realized was there, and knew was inappropriate on cases, "Morgan asked me to call you. He wanted to let you know that William Carson and Shannon Mills were both dating and that the rumors surrounding his relationship were caused because Melissa Gant wanted to hide her sexual preferences… yes that's what that means… why? Oh that makes sense. Are you sure that this Hillman and she were dating? Really, and you heard this from a teacher… her godmother…

Alright, Spence, I'll talk to you when you get back. No," she smiled briefly, "they aren't bothering me too much… I love you too."

As she hung the phone, a throat clearing from behind her caught her attention.

"Officer Mahoney," she said as she saw the man that had nearly arrested them for B&E the first time they'd met him, "It's good to see you. Thank you for meeting me."

"And you as well, Agent Jareau. I take it this isn't a social call?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I need you to take a couple of units to William Carson's home and back the press off, they're hounding the poor family."

He nodded. "These murders have affected the entire local community. My niece was friends with Charlotte and Michael, each of whom she'd gone to church with for a while. I'll have to clear it with the captain, but it shouldn't be too hard. Still, is there anything I could do to help you?"

She nodded and said, "I need to finish laying out our timeline, but other than that, I'm just waiting for the autopsy results."

He nodded. "The preliminary autopsies just came back for the Gant sisters, they were all murdered between one and three the morning they were discovered."

She nodded and placed the appropriate markers on the board, before she turned and said, "Has anyone checked into Mister Jenkins alibi for the time of death?"

He said, "Someone is doing that now… grudgingly I admit."

"Mahoney," Captain Straighthand said as he entered, "What are you doing in here?"

"Agent Jareau wondered if I could take a couple of units and back off the press hounding the Carson's, Captain," he said with as much respect as he could, considering he'd seen the man eying the FBI agent since she'd arrived.

"Well, I'll take over here, you get to that.."

He looked at her, and she smiled before nodding that she could handle any amorous advances that he sent her way, before the man said, "Then I'll leave you too it, Agent. Captain, Martinez is looking into our suspect's alibi now, we should have probable cause by the time he gets back."

The Captain nodded and smirked as he left.

"Good. Then, once this case is finished, Agent Jareau, I'd love to take you out and show you the sights."

JJ stared at the man in disbelief, trying to form the appropriate response. She couldn't believe the man would be so callous as to totally disregard the slightest possibility that his man suspect would alibi out.

Still, she knew the appropriate response to this situation.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm in a monogamous relationship already, and I love my boyfriend too much to betray him like that. Plus," she said a smirk, "He's a native of Las Vegas."

The Captain felt like he was punched in the gut, but stood and said, "Well, you can't blame a man for trying, Agent Jareau."

I can, she thought maliciously to herself, but I'd probably risk my team being asked to leave.

"It's alright," she said aloud, "You wouldn't believe how often this happens."

The man nodded sagely, and she felt repulsed by his slight smirk.

"I'll have someone come and let you know if we can charge Jenkins as soon as his alibi is checked out."

"Thank you," she said hesitantly, glad when the amorous man left her presence. She'd need a scalding shower after this.

With Hotch: 10:02AM

Hotch parked his car, silently steadying himself for the second of two difficult conversations. He sat outside of the Gant's house, which itself was nestled in one of Las Vegas' many suburbs about twenty miles from his previous location. He noticed almost immediately that, where the Mills' home was modest in size, the Gant home made Spencer Reid's home look like a shack.

Approaching the house cautiously, he knocked lightly on the door and was awarded almost immediately with a lithe woman opening the door, tears staining her usually makeup-caked face.

"Mrs. Gant, I'm Aaron Hotchner, we met briefly yesterday at the precinct, but never got a chance to speak. Is now a convenient time, there are some questions I need to ask you about your children?

Maria Gant hesitated only slightly before she opened the door, and said, "I remember Agent Hotchner, please come in. Are the rest of your team here also?"

"No ma'am," he said as she led him into a living room that was larger than the bedroom he slept in last night, and was asked to sit down. A few seconds later, Jeremiah Gant, the girl's father, entered and sat on the opposite end of the couch that his wife had sat on.

"What can we do for you, Agent Hotchner?" he asked as he settled himself in. Hotch, for his part, tried to stop profiling the couple.

"As I explained yesterday, my team was assigned this case on behalf of the Las Vegas Police Department. There are a few questions I need to ask you about your daughters' lives, and I apologize in advance if any of them seem impersonal. Any information you give us will help us find your daughters' killer."

The husband nodded almost immediately.

"Have you noticed anything odd about your daughters in these past few weeks that would cause you to worry about their mental health?"

Immediately, the both of them stood and shouted in anger. He listened for a few seconds, listening to both of their anger-laden voices, until they both sat down in a show of solidarity that he was sure couldn't be faked.

Once they were calmed, he again apologized for causing them any undue pain, and assured them that he wasn't asking to be malicious.

"I'm sorry," Maria said, "As you can understand we're slightly on edge about what's happened."

He nodded.

"What can you tell me about your daughter's daily activity?"

The two looked at each other, and Maria sighed.

"Our girls were always up around seven in the morning. Charlotte left the house soon after she dressed, heading over to Michaels before school. She said it was for Morning Prayer."

He nodded; Morgan had already filled that in for him.

"Melissa would leave just shortly before seven thirty. She claims that she was always at school first because her sister was the one with the social life."

"Do you remember anything different in their schedules the day that they died?"

Maria nodded. "Jeremiah was at work," she said looking at her husband. It was obvious this was the first time she'd talked about this. "The call came at 3:05. Charlotte said that their Principal had approached them about canceling their planned protest concerning his rule that homosexual couples were barred from participating in sports-related events, and that they needed to have a meeting had to have a meeting to get his permission before the protest could go through."

Hotch hesitated for a moment, before he said, "Do you think that Melissa's sexuality had anything to do with Charlotte's sudden need to protest?"

"What do you mean, Agent Hotchner," Jeremiah asked? He looked at them and cursed.

"I mean that the course of our investigation has found that Melissa was a closet homosexual."

"Why are you investigating our daughters?" Maria asked again. He was surprised that she knew, while her husband did not.

"We are investigating your children," he explained hesitantly, "Because oftentimes, especially in cases like this, the differences in their daily lives lead us to their murderer."

"I thought that the LVPD already had the murderer."

He nodded, "all they have at the moment is a suspect. My team cannot afford to not investigate; just in case it turns out that Mister Jenkins is innocent after all."

The parents nodded.

"Do you know whether or not Charlotte wore her engagement ring to school the day they died?"

Maria looked startled but shook her head. "No, I've…" she hesitated before reaching into her shirt and pulled out a necklace. "I couldn't bear to part with it."

Hotch nodded.

"And how were their relationships with their friends?"

"Good, they all got along well most of the time. The last time there was a problem, it was because William and Shannon broke up for a couple of weeks and, rumor had it, she had a girlfriend at the time… do you think it was our daughter?" Maria asked. He looked at Jeremiah, who looked crushed at the thought that his daughter hid that part of her life from him.

"We haven't found any evidence that says otherwise."

They both nodded.

"Thank you both for allowing me to visit. And I am sorry for your loss."

As they led him to the door, the profile in his mind came together.

With Morgan: 9:47AM

When Morgan arrived outside of the Carson house, he was angry at what he saw there. Media covered the street outside of the small, singlewide mobile home. He hesitated only slightly in pulling out his phone and calling JJ.

"JJ, I have a situation outside of William Carson's home; there are a bunch of news vans parked outside… yeah, I can talk to them, but this is usually where you'd handle things. I can't even get to the front door. Can you have the captain send a couple of units to clear this family's property?"

He listened to his friend's advice on dealing with the media, whom had chosen to came out in front of the only house that didn't have some kind of security, and then thanked her before opening the door and placing his sunglasses on his face. HE was glad that he'd chosen to dress officially today, instead of his usual flare, as he approached the door.

"Make way," Derek commanded, as he approached the door. Someone must have spread word about his arrival, because he didn't have that hard of a time getting to the front door. When he arrived at the front of the door, he turned and said, "Listen folks, I'm going to need you to clear an area."

"Do you have a statement," one of the reporters, who smelled blood, asked? He looked at the man and said, "The FBI does not issue statements of on-going investigations."

He approached the door, and knocked loudly, before he sighed in relief at the sound of approaching sirens.

He knocked on the door, and was immediately met with a gun to his face. He resisted his initial reaction of pulling his gun, and instead flashed his badge. The man, whose hair was high and tight, placed his gun to his side and pulled the door open before he said, "Come in sir."

Derek entered the house hesitantly, before he said, "Please tell me you have a carry permit?"

The man nodded and produced it immediately. Derek sighed; glad he didn't have to arrest the man for protecting his home and property.

"Mister Carson, I'm Derek Morgan with the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about your son."

The man sighed, "I'm sorry Agent Morgan, but my wife and I have been divorced for six years, and the last time I saw William was five months ago. Anna just called me about his death this morning."

He winced. "Then may I please speak with Miss Carson?"

The man, a former Marine by his tattoos, nodded and said, "Let me get her."

She entered the room a few minutes later, and sat immediately beside her former husband. Derek eyed them, and thought about pointing out their arrangements, but knew that it wasn't his place to do so. Instead, he settled down and said, "I need to ask you a few questions about your son, Miss Carson, and some of them are going to seem impersonal, so I'd like to apologize in advance."

She nodded. "Please call me Anne."

"And I'm Isaac," William's father told him. He nodded.

"Have you noticed anything odd about William in these past few weeks that would cause you to worry about his mental health?"

"Yes," the obviously distraught woman answered, "but nothing that was overly alarming. He's been struggling with some type of decision concerning his friends, and worried about his relationship with Shannon."

"Why, from what we've discovered, your son's relationship was very steady?" Derek asked. She smiled and said, "He approached me about a week ago. Shannon's friend Melissa asked her if William could help her out by pretending to be her boyfriend for a week or so. Shannon agreed, he said, and suggested that they stage a 'break-up'. He thought that she wanted to break up with him, and was just using this as an excuse."

Derek nodded, and then asked, "What can you tell me about your son's everyday ritual? What was a typical morning like for him?"

Anne frowned and said, "Will had the first period free everyday, so didn't have to be at school before second period. But, most mornings, he'd leave before sunrise, and meet Shannon at school, since she had to go to squad practices."

"Do you remember anything different happening the day your son died?" Derek asked as delicately as possible.

"It was weird. He was always home right after practice was over, unless Shannon asked him to come over to the house for a couple of hours. This particular day was different, because he called well before his normal time and told them that Principal Henderson wanted to speak with them about their planned protest of some half-baked rule that the rest of the board had already voted down."

Deciding not to ask his next question, "How was his relationship with Shannon?" as he didn't need to, Derek said, "I only have one more question I need answered. Then, I'll get out of your hair. Did Special Agent Lisa Mills ever approach you thinking something was wrong?"

"No," Anne said softly, "I've only met her once that I know of, Agent Morgan."

With that, Derek stood and said, "Please believe me when I say that we're going to do everything we can to find out who did this."

The distraught mother, clinging to the arms of her ex-husband, sobbed.

With Reid: 9:45AM

He silently approached the last name on Garcia's list, and took a steady breath as he did so. It had been so long since he'd been in the room he was approaching, but it still felt suffocating. And to believe, ten years later, that this particular teacher would still be working here; alongside those that had tormented and abused him, almost had him in a constant state of disbelief.

And yet, as he approached the doors, he couldn't help but see the similarities between then and now. The door was still decorated in the way it always had been, with slightly up-to-date posters hanging where he remembered older, more worn ones once proudly displayed.

He knocked silently on the door as he waited for the answer he was sure would come.

"Enter," the slight tilt of a long used, world-weary, southern drawl beckoned him in. He pushed the door only slightly, and entered. To his surprise, the woman that sat behind the desk only looked barely aged, showing only a few more of her sixty years than she had at a spry fifty.

"Hello Mrs. Turner," he said softly.

The woman's head moved so quickly, he could almost swear she'd dislocated something when she stood and said, "Spencer Reid."

He smiled and walked over to her large, solid oak desk, a gift she'd been told for attaining tenure some twenty-years before; arms widening in a gesture of welcome. The teacher, the woman that had found him all those years ago strapped to a football goal post, well after midnight, walked into his embrace as gently as she ever had.

"It's good to see you again, Spencer."

He smiled softly and said, "You too, Cynthia."

"So," she said as she invited him to sit. "What can I do for you, Mister Reid? Last I heard, you had no intention of returning to these halls."

He winced and pulled out his badge, something that until now he'd been proud of. What would his teacher, his friend, have to say about him endangering his life like this?

"That explains the things I've been hearing around here this morning. I understand that you went to meet with Alexa before coming this way?"

He nodded. She looked at him, and sighed softly. "That couldn't have been easy for you. I promise that I put up a fuss when she was hired here, Spencer. I couldn't believe that the school would hire her after what she and her friends did, but the principal at the time, Mister Hernandez, whom you remember no doubt, said that everyone deserved a second chance."

"Thank you," he said. She smiled. "Ask your questions, Doctor Reid. Then," she said, "Tell me about the life of a multiple-doctorate FBI agent."

Smiling, Spencer said, "I'd like nothing better, but instead, may I invite you to dine with my girlfriend and I later tonight?"

"I'd like that," the woman said. Then, settling back, she said "What time are you thinking?"

He frowned and said, "I want to go see mom before closing tonight, at least get an hour in before I have to leave her. So, if it's not too late when we get done, I hope to see you around ten?"

The aging teacher smiled, "Alright, boy-genius, that sounds good. Now, tell me what's on that mind of yours."

A soft grin covered his face and he settled back.

Later:

The team had quickly gathered, well after noon. It was a long morning, and looked to be even longer. The exhaustion and physical limitations of having a four-person team; which would normally be a team of six or seven, had exhausted them.

Hotch stood at the front of the room, and said, "Everyone has their impressions of the events that have led to their deaths. So, I need to know if your profile is so obviously different from mine. Garcia, before we begin, what have you found out?"

Garcia, who had been looking at the team from the computer screen in front of them said, "I've finished all the background checks, moncapitan. Reid, I know, talked to all those I cleared this morning; most of them had air-tight alibis for the time of death, and the one that did not alibi out the first time, I ran a second time. Only one person met those criteria, Alexa Lisbon. But," she said, "then, I found a charge on her husband's credit card. So, I tracked down the vendor, and found out that Miss Lisbon was at her best friend's wedding and only got back yesterday afternoon."

"And what about Mister Jenkins," he asked curious as to what she found.

"Well," she said softly, "That's a serious case of injustice, if I've ever seen one. Twelve years ago, he was accused and convicted of assault and battery against his wife of six months. So, knowing me as you do, it'll come to surprise to you that I dug deeper to see how low this scum bag was."

The team waited.

"It turns out that his wife of six months, Michelle Rodriguez, was hurt in a hit and run about five days before she fell into her coma. But, since the accident happened over state lines, and the doctors medically cleared her, everyone just assumed that he beat her then took her to the hospital as a sign of remorse. But, I had a medical professional look at her two charts. Doctor Bonneville," she said looking at JJ who smiled slightly "has all but stated that the injuries that caused her to slip into her coma were caused by the brain injury she sustained a few days earlier."

Hotch nodded and said, "I'll take care of it, what about his alibi?"

JJ spoke up, "They've confirmed his alibi, so he's being processed out as we speak, Hotch."

"Good," the chief said, "And what about the other teachers at the school?"

"Okay three have serious misdemeanors on their records. Five of the others have had misdemeanor convictions for drug use in their youth, but nothing since then, and then there are about twenty more names for misdemeanor disturbing the public.

"Alright Garcia, good job, we know that the UNSUB is male," he said. Garcia eliminated half of the current numbers.

"He's between the ages of thirty-one and fifty," Spencer said.

"And he'll have had charges in his past that were either dropped or investigated but not pursued by the police.

"Five names," she said conversationally.

"They'll have had convictions in the past three months," Hotch said, "This behavior didn't come out of nowhere."

"We have one name people. The Principal, Harold Henderson.

"We have our UNSUB," Hotch said.

"Yeah," Morgan said, "But nothing tying him to the murders."

"Actually," Hotch said, "We might. Garcia, does Mister Henderson have anything on his record regarding segregation, specifically in regards to homosexuals?"

Garcia looked through her files. "Two years ago, he was working as the superintendant of schools in Los Angeles County, until a girl and her girlfriend of three years were expelled without cause a week before their graduation. The order came from his office. The school board convened and had him impeached, but the damage to the school system was already done. So, naturally he was fired.

When Miguel Hernandez, the former principal of the school, retired last year after fifteen years, Mister Henderson was one of the earliest applicants to the position."

"Still, Hotch," Reid said, "Even with all that, we have nothing connecting them together then the fact that he was the last person to see them alive. All the evidence we have at this moment is circumstantial at best."

"That's what the police are for, Reid. We give them the same profile. They retrieve warrants for all the teachers that we've just eliminated, and the evidence will show up."

Reid nodded, and said, "Sounds like a plan."

Las Vegas Police Department, Interrogation Room: 7:45PM

Harold Henderson sat smug in the small, almost sterile room that he was dragged into less than an hour ago. His hands were still cuffed, but he was confident in his acquittal… then he'd make sure to sue the FBI for harassment.

His lawyer sat to his left, giving him last minute advice, when the door opened and a lithe, lanky male with a sweater vest entered the room followed by a large, well-built black male.

"Hello Mister Henderson, I'm Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid, and this is my partner, SSA Derek Morgan."

Harold's eyes narrowed and his teeth grinded together as he saw the male look over at his partner. The other male stood, moving behind lanky male and placing his hand on the back of his partner's chair. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about the murders at your school."

With that, a yellow envelope was pushed onto the table, and the contents opened up. The man's eyes widened as he saw the small, black gun.

"Ballistics has matched this gun to the murders of Charlotte and Melissa Gant, William Carson, Michael Winslow and Shannon Mills. It was also found in a hidden compartment at your office desk. Now, my partner Agent Morgan believes that you killed those kids, but I have a different theory in mind."

The Principal's eyes shifted to the younger man, and all of the sudden, a picture that he'd seen many times in the past year came to his mind, a teenager standing before the graduating class of 1995, the valedictorian of his class, standing in a cap and gown that was purposefully ordered too large for him.

"It's you," the man said snidely. "Come back to ruin the good name that your school has earned in the years you've been gone no doubt. And now, to rub salt in the wound, you've brought your boyfriend along to see you torment the principal of the place that almost crushed you!"

Spencer looked at the man, his eyes portraying a pity as he glanced at the distraught man.

"I assure you, Mister Henderson, the past actions of that school have nothing to do with this case. All that matters is finding your students killer."

"I'm telling you, kid, this bastard did it."

"I'm sorry, Derek, but the evidence just doesn't support that."

The Principal looked at the smug man, and sat back confident.

"Agent Reid, what exactly is my client being accused of?"

"Nothing," Spencer said, "At this moment, I'm just asking, one professional to another, for a deposition from the principal about what happened after school that day. He was the last person that saw any of the victim's alive."

The lawyer turned to his client and, after a quiet conversation, said, "Against my advice, my client has agreed to answer any questions you have."

Derek looked at the younger male, and said, "I'm telling you kid, this is a mistake. Arrest thi…" but was cut off by Spencer touching him on the shoulder, and saying, "Derek, not now."

Derek stood from his chair, and stormed out of the room, his shoulders trembling.

"Mister Henderson," he looked back at the man, who was almost apoplectic with rage, "I apologize for my partner's behavior. Can we please continue?"

The principal regained control of himself a few seconds later, and said, "Ask away, Doctor Reid."

Spencer leaned forward, and said, "Can you explain, first of all, what exactly happened at your meeting with the victims, and what time you and they parted company."

Harold leaned back, putting as much distance between the agent and himself as possible, and said, "They asked for a meeting in regards to my, albeit controversial, rule about openly gay and lesbian students on our sports-related teams."

"Why?"

"Because miss goody-too-shoes Melissa Gant was a lesbian, and thought that the rule was unfair. It's a horrible epidemic, you know…"

"People aren't so narrowly defined, Mister Henderson," the Special Agent said to the man. Derek and I have known each other for five years, and have a wonderful relationship."

"That's your business, at least keep it at home!"

"What happened afterwards, did you see where they went, and did anyone pick them up."

The Principal glanced at the weapon before him. "No, I just remembered seeing a large, green Toyota waiting at the corner they were picked up at."

"Are you sure?" Spencer asked, "I ask because we looked at the security footage outside of the school, and the only Toyota that was anywhere near the school all day was a red one."

"That's the one I meant then," the Principal said as the door opened again, and a blond woman sat beside the gangly male.

"Reid," she said, batting her lashes at the man, who too Harold's disgust, didn't seem to notice. His face was near pale in rage as he stood and said, "What kind of sick freak would rather have a gay partner than someone they can copulate with!"

Spencer turned to the man. "What are you talking about, Agent Jareau and I are merely coworkers?"

He turned and saw the hurt on the woman's face, and he yelled. "You're just as stupid as that bitch, Melissa, aren't you? For a supposed genius, how can you not see what is right in front of you!"

"What does Miss Gant have to do with anything?"

"She was raging at me that the rule was unfair, and that she was going to go to the police with evidence that I've done this before. Profiling, she called it, sexual profiling. Her sister, who probably led her to that path, was beside her the entire time. She actually laughed when I said that no one would believe her. She said they were recording everything, the stupid bitch!

Then that boyfriend… Michael said that they'd stop everything if I changed the rule. I told them no, and they dared laugh and say I really had no choice."

"Harold," his lawyer said trying to gain his attention.

"But no, the stupid bastard actually dared to tell me that I was unjust. I was just trying to cleanse the school of the filth that had invaded it! It's not my fault they didn't understand that."

Spencer turned, "is that when you killed them?"

"Oh no, I made them suffer first. I made her watch her sister's boyfriend take her virginity. Teach her the lessons her family never did, you understand? But instead, instead of being grateful the bitch spat in my face. My face! So I killed her sister when the boyfriend finished, and did the same with him. Then, I turned to the others…" suddenly the man's face paled as he realized what he'd said. "This isn't admissible, you goaded me!"

"Actually," Spencer said, "You waived your rights as soon as you said we could talk. Everything that you've said is perfectly admissible. Mister Harold Henderson, I'm placing you under arrest for the murders of Charlotte Gant, Melissa Gant, Michael Winslow, Shannon Mills and William Carson. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have given them to you?"

The principal nodded, defeated.

With that, Spencer stood and with a soft touch on the woman's arm, he said, "Let's get out of here."

"It's impossible to live without ideals. However, when ideas lead to ideology, that's a very dangerous thing. Ideology then leads to creating the image of an enemy, and it leads to the murder and massacre that we've seen since the beginning of time – Michael Haneke."