I've tried to stay as factual as possible for fiction but this chapter and the next couple that follow include some creative liberties required to make some scenes work. I apologize in advance. Also I should have mentioned this before that any real places are used fictitiously. In other words street names are made up. Also fair warning this will probably be the last chapter rated T. All future chapters will have an M rating just in case.

Disclaimer: As always I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters from Criminal Minds.

As soon the SUV slowed to a stop Hotch, Morgan, JJ and Detective Stanfield jumped out. They approached the doors to the building but stopped as a pair of uniformed officers emerged. "It's pretty bad in there guys" one of the officers cautioned.

The crime scene techs were just starting to arrive on scene. "I want all of the samples from this crime scene gathered and shipped to Quantico, ASAP" Hotch ordered. "The state lab is already stretched thin with the evidence from the first crime scene. JJ contact the Boston field office and get an evidence response team out here."

JJ walked off to make the necessary calls but returned in less than ten minutes. "We're in luck for once" she told her boss, "It seems that one of the evidence response teams from the Boston division was over in Augusta doing outreach at an elementary school. That team is on route now and should be here within the hour."

When one of the crime scene techs approached the group Hotch nodded a quick acknowledgment, indicating that the tech should speak. "The uh, the floor is mostly clear so I guess you guys can go in so long as you take the normal precautions." Looking embarrassed the woman excused herself and returned to the crime scene.

Detective Stanfield led the profilers through the front doors of the library to a door at the back. The sign on the door read "Story Room." Detective Stanfield pushed open the door to reveal the nightmare of blood within.

"Damn" Morgan said from somewhere behind Hotch. Secretly Hotch couldn't help but agree with the younger man. The grizzly scene in front of them resembled something out of Hell.

Morgan moved into the room and started taking pictures of the walls with a camera he brought from the SUV. Hotch and the detective had moved away from the door and were engaged in quiet discussion. JJ just stood in the doorway, horrified by the scene but unable to look away. "God." She breathed, "How did he find the time."

Overhearing her, Detective Stanfield stopped what he was saying to Hotch mid-sentence. "The library was closed for renovations. The work finished the day before last. Head librarian was coming in to get things ready for the grand re-opening tomorrow morning. She's the one who called the police after she saw the door was open and came over to investigate."

Hotch walked over to the communications liaison. "JJ" he called gently, snapping her back to reality. "We need you out front. The press is going to be here soon and we need to get a handle on this thing quickly."

"Right." JJ pulled herself away from the doorway and headed back outside.

After watching his subordinate leave Hotch made his way into the Story Room followed closely by the detective. He entered the room to find Morgan crouching down examining a corner of the room like he had done at the earlier crime scene. "Morgan, what did you find?"

"Call me crazy, Hotch, but I think there's some ridge detail."

"You mean?"

"Yah, I think the unsub has been signing his work."

-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-

Elle and Reid stood with a half a dozen officers at a crossroad dead center of the area Reid had circled earlier on the map. Elle addressed the officers while Reid handed out lists. "Okay listen up. There are about a dozen homes in this area belonging to individuals registered as hosts. Reid and I will visit the people on this list while the rest of you canvas the homes surrounding. Ask if anyone has seen anything or heard anything. If this is the unsub's hunting ground someone is bound to have seen something."

When Elle finished her speech the officers divided the areas around the listed houses among themselves and headed off in different directions. "Come on, we'll hit up the house where Sam Jones was staying first." Elle told Reid, leading the way to a townhouse one street over.

When Elle walked up and rang the bell they were greeted by a young woman who looked to be in her early 20s. She greeted them with a "What?"

"Are you Eleanor Hunt?" Elle asked.

"Who wants to know." the young woman shot back.

"I'm Special Agent Elle Greenway. This is Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. We're with the FBI and we'd like to ask you a few questions. Can we come in?"

Ms. Hunt stepped back from the doorway and waved them in. "Whatever. This better not take long."

"Thank you Ms. Hunt." said Elle, stepping into the front hall. "Now I understand you recently had a man staying with you by the name of Sam Jones."

-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-

He toyed with the knife, using the tip to follow the lines of her jaw and trace a path along her throat. There was something sensuous in the gesture, almost as if he was caressing her. When he felt a drop land on his hands he removed the knife and reached with his empty hand to gently brush away her tears.

Before he could return to his ministrations the phone on his belt buzzed angrily. Setting the knife down just out of her reach he got up and answered it with a gruff "Hey."

The woman could see his whole manner change as he talked on the phone, getting angrier by the second. She could only hear his half of the conversation but from that she could tell something wasn't going as planned.

"Wait"

"Slow down"

"Are you sure?"

"Okay I'll be there just give me half an hour?"

"Why didn't you say that in the first place. I'll be right over."

The man slammed the phone closed and jammed it back onto his belt. "Today's your lucky day sweetheart," he said, sneering at the woman in front of him. "It seems you get a reprieve." Untying her arms from the posts he forced her hands together and deftly wound the rope around them, securing them in front of her with a solid knot. Forcing her up to her feet he marched her back down to the basement, the knife at her back warning her not to try anything.

Down in the basement he forced her arms high above her head and hooked the ropes that bound them onto a hook dangling from the ceiling. He left without another word, turning off the lights and leaving her in darkness to contemplate her fate.

-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-

Reid and Elle walked up and knocked on what felt like the hundredth door that day. A handsome dark haired man opened the door in front of them. "Can I help you with something?"

"Are you George Stanley?" Elle asked.

"No I'm a family friend. I check on him from time to time. What is this about?" the man replied.

"I'm Agent Greenaway, this is Agent Reid, we're with the FBI," she replied pulling out her credentials to show the man as Reid did the same. "We have a few questions for Mr. Stanley."

"Why don't you come in." the man invited. "I'll go get him but I think I should be present while you question him. George is not quite right, you know?" He led the agents into what appeared to be the living room and motioned for them to sit on the couch. "I'll be right back."

Leaving the agents the man walked upstairs and entered the back room where he had left George. "George, listen to me. I need you to go downstairs to the living room. There are a couple of agents there. Talk to them but don't answer any of their questions until I join you, okay?"

Nodding his agreement George headed downstairs.

Meanwhile Elle and Reid remained standing in the living room next to the couch. Elle leaned in close to Reid and whispered "Are you sure this George Stanley guy was listed as a host?"

Reid nodded his head vigorously. "His name was on the list Garcia generated from the website and he actually received several positive references from people who had stayed with him."

The whispered exchange ended when they heard a creek and both agents turned instinctively towards the stairs. A plump, slightly balding man waltzed into the room with a goofy grin on his face. "Agents, please have a seat". Ending his invitation with a giggle he took the easy chair across from the sofa.

Both Elle and Reid sat down on the couch after exchanging a quick look between them. Elle wondered why anyone would want to stay with the man before them, even if the lodging was free. "Can we ask you a couple of questions?" she asked instead.

"I'm not really supposed to talk to you." came the reply, followed by another giggle.

"Supposed to?" asked Reid, "You're like 30. You own a house."

"I've said too much already" replied the man, each word punctuated by another mad giggle. "But I like you guys. Let me paint with you."

Elle leaned forward and Reid's eyebrows shot up at this last statement. Elle was reaching for the gun at her hip when she suddenly felt every muscle in her body become rigid at once followed by nothingness.

-PTTR-PTTR-PTTR-

Morgan sat staring at the photos spread out on the conference room table while Hotch stood staring at those pinned up to the evidence board from the earlier crime scene. There were some similarities between the two yet neither profiler had found a pattern so far. Still, without additional information about the victims the designs the unsub made were their best lead, at least until the results from the newest blood samples came back.

When the boys from the evidence response team had arrived they had confirmed the presence of ridge detail and natural oils in the blood. There wasn't enough for comparison of course; one of the forensic experts suggested that the unsub had swiped his thumb in the blood intentionally to obscure it. However it seems whoever left the print had also left skin cells which had been sent along with the other samples to Quantico for analysis.

After what seemed like hours of staring at photos of blood colored walls Morgan would have sworn he could see swirls, loops and whirls in blood every time he looked up. Placing the picture he had just picked up back on the table Morgan glanced at his watch. "Hey Hotch, is nearly 10 o'clock. Shouldn't Reid and Elle have been back by now."

Frowning, Hotch turned away from the evidence board and stuck his head out the door into the station bullpen. "Hey" he called to the first officer he spotted, "Has anyone returned from canvassing."

Slightly startled the officer looked up from his paperwork. "The last of our guys came back an hour ago. Officer Silver said your agents were still checking out hosts."

Hotch withdrew back into the conference room and shut the door. He was about to order Morgan to try Reid when Morgan's phone began to buzz. Glancing briefly at the caller ID Morgan flipped it open and answered. "Hey babygirl, you're on speaker."

"We got another match from blood found at the first crime scene. Blood from the scene matched DNA submitted years ago by the mother of a missing 12-year old boy. The boy was found alive but for some reason the DNA never got removed from the system. His name was George Stanley and his driver's license lists his current address as 123 Garrotview Lane in Camden."

"Garrotview Lane? Why does that sound familiar." asked Morgan.

Hotch had wondered over to Reid's map as Garcia spoke. "That street is dead center of the area where Elle and Reid are canvassing. Garcia get me everything you can on George Stanley."

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