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Fear and Loathing
It was Spencer's first case back after Georgia. I haven't spoken to him in three days. He took a plane out to Las Vegas. He wouldn't tell me what he did out there except that he went to see his mother. He said she was doing okay and that was it.
I got back a week ago after spending a couple of weeks with my family in Pennsylvania at Hotch's orders. My Aunt Gina was very glad to mother me for two weeks. She and Uncle Charlie tried to get me to tell them about what happened, but I couldn't talk about it, except the tell her that Spencer wasn't talking to me.
The psych for the FBI said that both Spence and I were ready to come back to work. I wonder if Spencer is ready. After all, he's smart; he could fool the doctor with no problem. He didn't call me for two days before coming back and in the two weeks we were separated, we spoke three times. I tried to call him, but he wouldn't answer his phone. I just want to help him, but how can I help if he won't talk to me.
The problem is the same thing it always is. I made him promise to meet me for lunch and then I get a call from the Mayor of Westchester in New York. It appeared that they had a hate crime on their hands. Three black girls and one white guy had been killed. There were swastikas painted on the faces of the girls and hate graffiti on the guy's car.
Spence didn't say anything during the briefing. He looked like he was very upset. I wanted to help, but I had to do my job. God, sometimes I hate this job and the things it does to us. Then we were on the plane and he was the one to figure out that a note sent to the latest victim was from a teenage girl, not a male unsub. He was starting to sound like himself again, so I quit watching him so closely.
There was a Reverend in the town that was on the television ranting about blacks, and hate crimes, and the police not doing anything. The guys figured out pretty quickly that they weren't hate crimes, but that we had a black serial killer on our hands. I had to try to go talk some sense into the Reverend and get him to stop calling for the black community to do something.
I set up a tip line and dealt with the press and the Mayor. The lead Detective's name was Weir and he had the guts to go against the mayor and tell the press that the man we were looking for was black. The mayor said he'd never heard of a black serial killer, but Hotch reminded him that they did exist even if they are rare.
The whole thing was a powder keg ready to blow up if we didn't move carefully. I got a tip about a black sedan that was seen close to the home of the last victim. Morgan and Weir went out together to patrol and some trigger happy white guy shot and killed the detective, who was black. It was terrible for Morgan, who had to watch him bleed to death. The man had a wife and two children. The man who killed him has a family too. Now there's two more families ruined, and for what, the sick needs of a serial killer.
Why does the question of race matter so much? It's something that Morgan said to me after we caught the guy. Martin Luther King said that he dreamed of a world where is children would be judged by the content of their characters and not the color of their skin. How long will it be till the color of your skin is a non-issue? Will it ever happen or will we always find an excuse to hate each other?
We did find a witness who had been approached by our un-sub. She was a singer like all the girls the man had killed. He used a ruse that he would record them in his studio. She didn't fall for it and told him no. She knew who he was before he offered to record her and with Garcia's help we found him.
He'd taken another girl, but she got away from him after he'd drugged her. The guys picked him up and saved her when he nearly got a cop to believe she was his niece that he was supposed to take care of.
I wanted to talk to Spence on the plane, but he got into to a game with Morgan. I left him alone because my Aunt said that I can't make him talk to me. She said that there's a time you have to step back and let someone come to you. I just don't know if I'm doing the right thing.
