Hello again!

Thanks to everyone who voted in The-Vampire-Act's season 5 contest (4th and 5th place! YAY!) And thanks to my reviewers SayidRocks and cloudgirl9. Virtual chocolate chocolate chip cookies with warm milk for everyone!

Also, for those of you who asked, now that the contest is over, I will be continuing Off The Tracks and On Fire. I'll start chapter 2 soon!

I own nothing! Can't wait for Season 6! I don't think it can come fast enough….

….

Five Minutes Earlier

Penelope Garcia was typing furiously at her keyboard, her monitors flashing as she worked.

"Come on, you skeevy, sneaky, sociopathic jerkface," she growled, "Show me your cowardly self so I can show YOU what happens when you mess with my babies, and anyone whom they meet."

By now she had hacked into the databases of the St. Paul Pioneer Press, and was now making her way through employee records, checking them for criminal records, possible stressors, and cross-referencing them with the names of the victims' dead relatives… and coming up with nothing. So far.

But she was Penelope Garcia, Goddess of Information, Mistress of the Information Superhighway; she would find this sicko, pin him down with her mouse, keyboard and magic fingers, and send her furry friends off to find him, and give him a big surprise before he could kill anyone else…

A computer on the other side of her workspace beeped, and she moved her swivel chair in that direction to see what it was.

"HA!" She crowed. "Got you now you slimy, skeevy…" He fingers skimmed across the keys as she brought up the work information of a young man working for the press, muttering all sorts of interesting names and insults for the suspect.

"Lemmie see…" She muttered, bringing up a short biography on the man's like, reading over it as she reached for the phone… AHA! She had him! Now who to call…

First she rang her Chocolate God. No answer.

JJ. Nothing. But at least she has a reason, Garcia thought as she stared at a live feed from a Minnesota news station as JJ gave out a profile to the public.

Boss Man. No dice.

Prentiss. Nada.

Rossi. Again, nothing.

Garcia turned back to the television screen in time to see that there was news of a new body being discovered. Evil sicko… the tech goddess thought wearily before dialing one last number.

Come on, Boy Wonder, she though desperately Pick it up. Don't be shy…

And then…

"Reid."

Garcia sat up at attention. "Oh Thank GOD!" she cried in relief. "None of the others answered their phones, and I didn't know why…"

"They found another body, Garcia. What…?" He sounded confused. Usually, she called them after they asked her to look something up. Well, she had outdone herself. And all for her baby boy on the other line.

"Don't speak, Boy Wonder; I have trèsimportant news that you MUST hear!" She trilled. "I think I have a connection between your victims…"

"A connection?"

"Yep, Monsieur Brain," She said, typing again, bringing up the file of the man she believed was their bad egg. "Okay, so I have a Mr. Dudley Briggs, age 34, who works for the Pioneer Press newspaper; been working there for about two years now. I have just sent his picture and file to your phone … Here it is!"

"What is it?"

"Griggs took the obits! He collected the obits of Edward Swan, Charlie "Chuck" Sawyer, Andrew Jones and Jakob Werner from their relatives when they were submitted, typed them up and laid them out. He also collected the obits of Jacob Swan, Aimee Sawyer, Alec Sawyer, Lainey Jones and Jessica King, typed them up, and laid them out."

"What do you mean by…?"

"Layout is newspaper-speak for when the paper organizes the content of the edition that they'll be publishing. They place it in the section it will be featured, play with the font, cut and paste, and add a catchy title to the piece so there'll be someone out there who will read them." She skimmed the keys a bit more, bringing up more information. "Anyway, about a month before Mr. Edward Swan, a man by the name of Lance Griggs was killed in a car accident. Drunk driver. And get this: Mr. Griggs' seat belt wasn't on. No wonder dear old Dudders snapped and started killing people."

"59% of all fatal motorized vehicle accidents happen because someone wasn't wearing their seatbelt, usually the driver," Reid said. "Also, there were a total of 11,773 deaths due to drunk driving in 2008 in the United States. Minnesota is also one of the states cracking down on drunk driving death tolls."

"Note to self," Garcia said in a tone of voice reminiscent of Hotch. "Remind JJ to take you to one of those 'MADD' meetings she and Will go to."

"Good. Can you call the others, Garcia?"

Better yet, I have a location. And a cell phone…Jinkies."

"Garcia?"

"What's at 2004 Randolph Avenue?"

"T-that's where Aislinn and I are at, Garcia. The University…." Reid sounded worried. "Garcia, what…"

"Griggs is at 2004 Randolph Avenue. I'll call Hotch; you and Aislinn get out."

….

"Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, you can…"

Aislinn stood up; for some reason she didn't feel comfortable in an unequal position to this man.

"Do you need directions?" she asked, "Are you looking for someone?"

"Yes," Dudley Griggs said. "I'm looking for you, Aislinn Werner. I want to help you. Save you, Aislinn."

Aislinn moved away from the stranger. "I-I d-don't need any h-help," she whispered. "I-I'm fine."

"No, you're not, Aislinn," Griggs continued. "You're in pain. You miss your father. I know what that's like. I miss my father, too." With that he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"No!" Aislinn said. "No, don't touch me. Let me go!"

"Come with me, Aislinn." His hold tightened, and he pulled her closer.

"No! No… Spencer! SPENCER, HELP! PLEASE!"

….

Hotchner's phone started buzzing as soon as he and Dave got into the SUV. Hotch answered, his usual scowl on his face.

"Go, Garcia." He said, putting her on speaker so Rossi and the other officers could hear.

"Dudley Griggs." The tech's voice echoed over the connection. "Dudley Griggs is your UnSub. His father died about a month before the killings started, he saw the obits for all the victim's family members, and collected the obits for the victims after the fact."

"Trophies," Rossi muttered. "Of course."

"That's not the worst of it," She said. "He's already at the University campus. Aislinn's his next victim."

Rossi was already on the phone "Prentiss, Donahue. Come with us to the SCU St. Paul campus now. We don't have time to get JJ. The UnSub is already getting his next victim. We were right; it's Aislinn."

In the other car, Prentiss hung up her phone, and glanced at Donahue, who simply nodded before she started the car. Donahue picked up his radio.

"Dispatcher this is Donahue, requesting backup at 2004 Randolph Avenue. Send to Campus Security to intercept murder suspect at 2004 Randolph Avenue…"

…

A/N: Yeah… I'm kinda leaving it at a cliffhanger…

But I'll have the next part up soon; I'm just putting on the finishing touches.

Please drop a review; I love it when you do!

*~N_CBAU~*