"So, Agent Scott, why did Kansas City wait until they had four victims to bring this to our attention?"
The question came from Agent Rossi, sitting a few rows ahead of me. I took my eyes away from Dr. Reid's and towards him instead.
"It took a while to connect the murders. They were in different cities and up until recently, Kansas City PD thought they could handle the investigation on their own…that was until the media got out of control."
Dr. Reid made an aha noise beside me. My gaze remained glued to the center of the jet, where the BAU team reviewed their files.
"There's no connections between any of the victims?" Agent Prentiss a sked, not looking up from her paperwork.
"None that we can find. The victims lived in different areas in a twenty-mile radius, different socio economic situations, different ages and races, no specific type. But we know it isn't random."
I took a moment to look down at myself. My black suit jacket had become unadjusted, yet again. I was the only one on the jet to be dressed in such a high degree. Most of the agents were wearing slacks and a button up shirt, or in Dr. Reid's case, a vest.
"There is a pattern," Dr. Reid said suddenly, "It's the same weapon, attack method is the same, all attacked in their homes. There's actually a more obvious pattern to this unsub's methodology. Typically serial killers that use the same methods in each kill are more predictable and stable. He's killed the same way four times, he'll do it again. He probably won't devolve the way others do. He's mature and has self-control. He hunts and kills the same way each time, that's what we have to work with. The only thing we don't have is victiminology….how he's choosing them…"
I smiled, impressed at his explanation.
"Meet Spencer Reid," Morgan said, "He does this a lot."
Dr. Reid waved at me from a foot away, as if introducing himself for the first time.
"Reid, I want you and Prentiss at the first scene. The first victim tells the most about an unsub and how he chooses them. Morgan and Rossi, get to the last scene and see what you can find. JJ, set up at Kansas PD and call Garcia to see what she can get on these victims. There's a way he's choosing them, she'll find the connections," Hotchner said quickly.
As he finished, the team slipped into their roles, already starting on their tasks, JJ quickly pulling out her cell phone to get started talking to Garcia. As they started their work, I took a moment to sit back in my seat, folding my hands in my lap, think about my next moves once we got back to Kansas City.
First things first, I'd have to get home and get a change of clothes after this long day, possibly grab a snack, and get some rest later. Who knows the next time I'd be able to get home… I'd heard stories about the BAU and how they worked around the clock. The good work they did could only be accomplished by spending every possible second on a case.
I adjusted my head. My hair was straining to get out of this uptight bun. I wasn't usually so formal at the office and my hair knew it. I could feel my wavy hair staring to pull out of the bun. I knew that if I touched my hair to cinch it back into place the whole thing would unravel.
I felt awkward on the jet. I didn't belong there and I felt like a burden to this team… I wish I hadn't been the one to bring the envelope.
Suddenly, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I looked at the caller ID: "FBI Quantico."
I stood quickly, excusing myself to the back of the jet.
"Agent Scott," I answered.
"Hello there, bright and beautiful, this is your friendly neighborhood techy goddess of all things wonderful and electric!" a peppy voice radiated into my ear.
"Um-" I wasn't quite sure and I looked to the team as if they could hear her, too.
"It's Garcia," the voice said, sounding disappointed.
"Yes, what can I do for you?"
"Alright, so I'm looking through your victims habits and lives trying to find connecting links. Sarah Palmer, unfortunate lady number 1, she was a grad student? It says in her file that she changed her major seven times, did you interview any of the friends or faculty at her university? She probably changed it again…"
"Yes," I said, lunging towards my paperwork, "She changed it to…um…hold on."
I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder, making my hair almost make a desperate move to be free. I couldn't find the damned paper! What major was she? Why wouldn't I think of it?
"Elementary Education specializing in Early Childhood Education as well."
The voice came from Dr. Reid, who hadn't looked up at me yet.
"Got it!" Garcia said, "I'll plug that into her info and see if that helps any, toodles!"
Garcia hung up as quickly as she had called. I stared at Dr. Reid… how did he know what I was looking for?
Before I could open my mouth to ask, he looked up at me, "It really wasn't that hard… you used the phrase 'she changed it to' which led me to think that you were talking about college and our only college student was number one, Sarah Palmer, 23, grad student who lived alone."
I marveled at his deduction.
"And the volume on your phone is quite loud… I could hear what Garcia was asking."
"Oh…" I was suddenly embarrassed…another mistake. I wanted to crawl into a hole in the Kansas City dirt and never come out.
I sank into my seat next to Dr. Reid, blushing, feeling like I was being hit with a brick wall everywhere I turned today.
I tried to look through my paperwork as a distraction, I didn't want to continue to feel defeated.
"I'm um….I'm sorry if I embarrassed you… I tend not to think before I speak…it's a bad habit that I have. I usually say things how I observe them and don't process how the human emotion would understand it."
Dr. Reid looked at me apologetically, embarrassed himself.
I shrugged. "It's alright… just a hard day."
I sat back in the seat, bumping my bun against the headrest, dislodging a bobby pin. It fell down the back of my seat, in between the cushions, presumably never to be seen again. My hair started to sag.
"Damnit!" I muttered under my breath, holding my hair and pulling a spare pin from my pocket.
"Excuse me?" Dr. Reid asked as I tried to salvage my hair, praying it would stay until we landed in Kansas City.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Reid," I said, my eyes down as I jammed the bobby pin against my scalp, "This hard day isn't agreeing with me."
He laughed quietly in one breath. "I take it you don't do this sort of this often, do you?"
He observed me and I was hoping he wouldn't make a comment about how my unraveling appearance may reflect unraveling methods in my own life or some profiling speech.
"Hand deliver packages to the BAU, fly back with them, and be asked to be assist them in their investigation? No…that's never happened to me before."
"No, I uh… I meant that you don't put your hair up very often, do you? You use bobby pins that don't suit your type of hair and they're black… your hair is dark copper. Brown would have been more suitable if you did this more often…"
He's looking at my bobby pins? I felt tears behind my eyes. How stupid of me, but I was not used to being this scrutinized. I turned away from him, hands falling to my lap in defeat.
"No, Dr. Reid…. I do not put my hair up often…" I said quietly. Perhaps more quietly than he had expected.
"Oh…" he said suddenly, "I didn't mean to…I mean… I didn't think…that's always my problem… I meant that it's no wonder you're having difficulty and frustrations, you're not using materials suitable for your hair type and that's why… that doesn't sound good either… I mean… if you did this more, then you would be prepared…no… I mean…I…I'm sorry Agent Scott, I don't know what I mean…"
I looked at Dr. Reid. I could tell in his eyes that he was mortified. I could see color flooding his cheeks. He honestly couldn't control his mouth… or his mind.
I sighed. "It's alright, Dr. Reid. I do not put my hair up often because it's a struggle and I don't often find materials that are suitable for my hair type. I was not prepared and it's obvious."
Dr. Reid looked down at his lap. I didn't mean to make him feel bad but I didn't know what else to say. I could feel another hair pin slipping from it's place. I reached back, yanked it out, and slammed it down on my paperwork in front of me.
I closed my eyes and took a breath. This day was not getting better. I couldn't wait to get back to Kansas City.
When I opened my eyes, Dr. Reid had my bobby pin in his hand. His long fingers delicately turned it and examined it. His brow was furrowed and his eyes focused. He looked like he was solving a puzzle.
"Here," he said suddenly, "Turn that way."
I turned towards the aisle away from him. I wasn't going to question him and make things more awkward and uncomfortable.
I felt his hands on my hair and the bobby pin working its way into my bun. I frowned as I wondered how Mr. PhD knew about hair troubles.
As if reading my mind, he started. "The simple engineering isn't all that complex. These are designed to hold to the hair and keep it from slipping. In hair thinner than yours, it would work. If you work with the way it was designed, rather than cling to the hair, you can make it work with another pin and make them twice as strong. Rather than have one big pin, you can use two smaller ones to interlock and hold."
I felt a click and Dr. Reid removed his hands. I turned back towards him and my hair felt like I had just done it this morning. Strong and unmoving.
I smiled at Dr. Reid, still unsure of what to say.
"I mean… it's all just engineering really…" he said quickly as if to save himself.
"Thank you, Dr. Reid," I said with a small smile.
He tried to mirror my smile, almost awkwardly, nodding.
"Hey Reid, you going to do my hair, too?" Morgan called playfully from a few seats ahead of us.
Dr. Reid ducked his head, looking at the paperwork like he hadn't heard.
I glared at Morgan, silently chastising him. Morgan grinned at me and then turned back to his work like it had been nothing.
I didn't know why, but I didn't want anyone or anything to ruin my interaction with Dr. Reid.