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Blind Date Part Two

Hotch preceded Rossi into the shop. A bell over the door clanged as his partner let the door fall shut behind him. The smell of incense, herbs and some other perfume that he couldn't identify permeated the room, but the scent wasn't unpleasant.

He looked around the small room at herbs and plants hanging from the ceiling and the walls. Some of the products were packaged professionally with labels in black on white paper. There were beads of all colors in see through plastic drawers. It didn't surprise him that feathers and chicken feet also dangled from the ceiling. In fact, there wasn't much that could surprise him anymore.

"There's the shirt and robes she sells. I recognize that pattern." Rossi muttered as a woman with skin the color of coal and long black hair in beaded cornrows entered the front of the store.

"Welcome…" She said in a lilting voice. "How can I help you?"

"My name is Agent Hotchner and this is Agent Rossi."

They held out their badges for her inspection. "I see… What can I do for the FBI?"

"We're here about the clothing you sell." Rossi explained.

"Yes… It's all hand made by me and my daughter." She said, confusion growing in her black eyes. "Why are you asking?"

"We're investigating the deaths of several young men in the area. A piece of cloth that matched the type of garments you make and sell was found with the last victim."

"You think one of my customers, or perhaps I had something to do with these killings." She said going to her place behind the counter.

"We'd like to look at list of your customers over the last three months." Rossi asked.

"I'm afraid you'll have to show me a warrant." She stated firmly, all helpful kindness gone from her musical voice.

Hotch's phone rang. He stepped away to take the call, while Rossi talked to Ms. Zola. "Ma'am we don't want to invade your clients' privacy but we need to find the woman responsible for these deaths."

"A woman…" Ms Zola laughed, her cornrows clicking together as her head shook. "I've heard on the news that these men were dismembered. Surely a woman couldn't do something so terrible."

Rossi leaned up against the counter and smiled at the storekeeper. "The hearts of these young men were removed from their chests, their bodies dismembered, but before all of that, they were tortured for maximum pain. Does any of that sound familiar to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She denied. "I would appreciate it is you left and didn't return unless you have a warrant." She backed away from him to the colorful curtain hanging from the doorway behind the counter.

"Ms Kenyon," Hotch said coming back to the counter. "How long have you practiced Muti?"

They heard the audible click in her throat. "I told him," she said pointing to Rossi. "I don't know what you want from me."

"We have a technical analyst that's very good at getting the details of anyone's life, especially the ones you don't want the general public to know. We know you are a licensed alternative medical practitioner. You specialize in Muti, but you also work with more traditional western alternative medicine and licensed doctors. Your husband was a surgeon. You met him in South Africa and moved here to live."

"Alright, I practice the old ways." She admitted going to a tall stool behind the counter and sitting down. "I never killed anyone. I don't believe in that part of Muti. The practice of mutilating human bodies for money or magic cures goes against what my grandmother taught me growing up."

"So you are aware of the problem in South Africa of Muti killings." Hotch asked.

"Yes… it was going on when I was growing up. We were told not to speak of it, as though staying silent might make the problem go away. We were told never to talk to the police about this terrible side of Muti."

"Ms Zola right now you're the only one in this city that knows the rituals involved with these kinds of killings." Rossi said. "It's better for you if you cooperate with us."

"No…" Hotch interrupted. "She's not the only one. Your daughter is a practitioner of Muti as well. She's a student of western medicine at the University of North Carolina. We found her name in a list of matches on a dating web site where the victims met the woman that killed them."

Anger filled Zola's eyes. "My daughter didn't do anything. She's not capable of hurting a fly. I taught her better than that."

Rossi's dark eyes pierced her as he spoke. "Has your daughter suffered some trauma in the last six months?"

"H-her fiancé d-died three months ago. H-he had a heart problem and they couldn't find a d-donor quickly enough to s-save him. He was her whole w-world."

Hotch pulled a photograph of Reid taken at their last Fourth of July picnic at Quantico from the file folder he carried and showed it to her. "Did her fiancé look like this man?" He pulled more photos of the men as they had been in life and showed them to the distraught woman. "These are the victims, they all resemble her fiancé."

"Oh my God…" Tears filled Zola's eyes replacing the anger in them. "Samara what have you done?"

"We need to know where to find her. Right now, we just want to talk to her."

"But why would she do this?" Zola choked. "I don't understand."

"We don't know why." Hotch explained. "Please tell us where we can find your daughter before she hurts someone else."

"I haven't seen her in weeks." She assured them "I talked to her yesterday and she was fine. She promised to have lunch with me soon. I know she didn't do anything. Please don't hurt her." Zola begged. "My husband was killed in a car accident. She's all I have."

"We don't want to hurt her." Hotch said. "We have to protect the men of this city."

Zola wiped at her eyes with the edge of the colorful tunic she wore. "Alright… I know where she might be."

CMCMCM

Reid entered the big double glass doors of the Museum alone. He knew that some of Docks' men and women were around in plain clothes as was Emily and Morgan, but his hands shook as they always did when confronted with a situation that could explode.

He went to the information desk where Ms Cohen said she'd meet him. He couldn't see her yet so he pretended to look at some of the colorful brochures standing up in a plastic holder. He put one back after a few seconds and pulled out one for the new "Revealing Bodies," exhibit and found that he didn't have to pretend to read it.

"Pay attention kid." Morgan sounded in his ear. "Your date's on her way across the room. She is fine, much better than her picture." He whistled in Reid's ear.

Reid hissed. "Are you trying to deafen me?"

He ignored Morgan's laughter and looked up. Dr. Susan Cohen walked up to him with a smile gracing her face. Her long blond hair fell in waves down her back. She had the front and sides pulled back as he'd seen JJ do a lot. She had large blue eyes and an oval shaped face. She wore a tailored dark blue suit jacket and skirt that hugged her figure. He began to sweat, little drops running down his back.

"Hello… You must be Dr. Jason Spencer. I'm Dr. Susan Cohen." She held out her hand.

He wiped his right hand on his jeans and took her hand to shake it. Her skin was warm and it made his stomach tingle.

Get a grip!

"It's nice to meet you." He squeaked.

Damn it! Why can't you control the squeaking?

Dr. Cohen didn't seem to mind. She smiled wider and took his arm. "I hope you don't mind that I wanted to meet here. I have so much work to do with the exhibit coming in…"

"I don't mind. I like museums." Reid said, without the squeak this time.

"Do you?" She led him past the information booth to another hallway filled with Egyptian exhibits.

"Well… I like natural history or science museums. I don't really know that much about art so I don't spend a lot of time in art museums." He rambled.

"I like art I can understand like seascapes and still life. I don't like modern or abstract art that doesn't make any sense."

"Me either," Reid agreed.

"We've got a cute little café down the hall. They have coffee, sandwiches and soup if you like."

He found himself smiling down at her as she led him to the entrance to the small café. The eatery was set up cafeteria style. They ordered their food and took a table next to the windows. The sky outside had brightened a bit since that morning, but it was still chilly outside.

He watched Dr. Cohen look out the window at the red, orange and gold leaves on the trees, the grass and the parking lot.

"Dr. Cohen?" He asked uncertainly.

"I'm sorry… I just love the fall. It's so beautiful. I like the chill in the air instead of the heat." She stirred absently at the chicken soup she'd ordered.

"Yeah… It's very beautiful."

"I'm sorry," she shook her head. "I'm being very rude. I'm just a little tired of twelve hour days and non-existent weekends."

"I think I understand." He said without thinking.

She laughed and took a sip of her soup. "Are engineers so busy?"

"Actually, we just finished a big project. I've got the next few days off." He lied smoothly.

"Oh…"

He couldn't think of anything to say to her so he chewed on the ham and cheese sandwich he'd ordered.

"I don't understand it." She remarked suddenly.

He looked up to see her twisting her heart shaped pendant with her right hand. Her blue eyes met his with a definite question in their depths.

"I don't understand why a man as attractive as you would resort to using a dating website. You must have women falling all over you."

"Actually one in five relationships starts online these days." He said unable to stop the statistic from leaving his mouth.

"Is that so?" She asked amused.

"Yes."

She picked up her cup of coffee and sipped at it for a minute. "I'm glad you decided to join the site. I think I like you Dr. Spencer."

Guilt over his deception punched him unexpectedly in the stomach because he liked her too. "Keep it going Reid; you've got her right where you want her." Morgan said.

He curled his left hand into a fist under the table wishing he could say something very rude to Morgan, but Dr. Cohen's presence kept him silent, at least for a minute.

"I like you too." He squeaked out before he could stop the words.

"I'm glad." She said.

Neither spoke for a very long time until Dr. Cohen said. "What are you thinking about?"

He choked on the mouthful of his sandwich. He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry… It's just with Halloween coming up and your exhibit… Well, it made me think of the killings."

"Oh…" She shivered. "I saw something on the news about that."

"I'm sorry… It's not a very appetizing subject of conversation."

Dr. Cohen went a little pink in the cheeks. "I admit that I'm a little fascinated by the murders. Anthropologically speaking," she added quickly. "Why does a man kill in such a way in this time in our existence when we don't have to compete for food or mates?"

Reid dropped his voice as though sharing a secret. "I have a friend that's a reporter and he said the killer cut the hearts out of the victims. Why do you think someone would do that?"

Dr. Cohen's eyes brightened a bit. "I don't know. It could be that it's a woman that's wronged by love." She said. "In fact, when I was in South America, I came across a Mayan cult previously unknown to science that used human heart in resurrection rituals. I've seen the same thing in African rituals. It was very fascinating."

"Watch out." Morgan said in his ear.

"Why do you think it's a woman?" Reid asked over the last of his sandwich.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know… It just seems like something a woman might do. Still it's a despicable thing to do." She shuddered.

"I'm sorry," Reid said again. "Let's talk about something else."

"Reid… Hotch just called. He talked to Zola Kenyon. She has a daughter and her name matches one of the women who're trying to contact you. You need to get out of there now."

Reid felt real regret rise up in his chest. His phone rang. He looked down and feigned a look of real irritation. "I'm sorry… I really have to go. It was very nice meeting you."

"But -"

He jumped up from the table and left her staring after him. He answered the phone. "Reid."

"I need you back at the precinct right now." Hotch said.

"I'm on my way. Sarah Cohen isn't the one." Reid replied as he wove his way through the crowd.

"Yes… I know."

"Her body language was relaxed, and she was using contractions and looking me in the eye. She wasn't lying or -"

"I believe you Reid, just meet up with Morgan and Emily, and get back here. We know where to find Samara Nicosia."

A/n the Mayan and African practice of using hearts in a resurrection ritual is totally made up by yours truly!