Long Distance

A/N: Thanks to Ann Parker and mabelreid for your reviews. It's lovely to hear from you two. I'm hoping I can continue to keep you interested. My updates may turn sporadic seeing as I'm on the hunt for a place of employment and it may take up a bit more of my summer then I'd like to admit—curses to needing money. In any event, enjoy them as they come and know my deepest thanks comes when I read your reviews!

The plane ride to Wisconsin was a long one, despite their having their own jet. In any event, Reid was still exhausted after sleeping most of the way there. It seemed that the sleeping sitting up and with one's neck at an odd angle prevented a decent slumber. They had arrived at the crime scene less than an hour ago and were reviewing the area. This murder was similar enough, that one could assume the woman lying on the bed had been killed with the same substance the other woman had. Gideon and Hotch had gone to meet with the first victim's husband while the rest searched the most recent crime scene for clues.

"Everything down to the flowers." Morgan muttered to himself, taking pictures for Garcia to send to Grace. Reid leaned over until he had a good view of the latest message. These flowers were very different than the last ones. The flowers gripped in the cold hands of the newest victims were white, tube-like with petals that pushed out and ended with frills. Within the blooms the petal was lined with small purple dots that were interrupted by a splash of orange on either side. Other than what he was seeing Reid had no idea what they were or what kind of message they were supposed to convey.

"Better get those pictures to Grace quickly." He said to Derek. The older agent nodded, sending the picture messages to Garcia. He called her and explained what they needed.

Quantico, Virginia

A matter of seconds later Grace woke to her phone's obnoxious ring, nearly falling off of the couch she had fallen asleep on. She shot a glare at the offending piece of technology, flipping the phone open.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice giving away more annoyance then she had intended. The voice on the other end wasn't particularly sympathetic.

"I'm sorry," Garcia said smoothly, "did I wake the princess from her slumber?" Grace had to shake her head, aware of Garcia's penchant for quick wit and sharp retorts.

"Why yes you did Penelope, speak quickly or meet your doom." There was a chuckle quickly covered by a cough on the other end of the line. Garcia replying.

"Oh apologies exalted one—now, go to your computer and check your e-mail. Morgan and Reid sent pictures of the latest flower, message—thing." Grace gave a sigh and pushed herself off of the couch, heading for the laptop she had set up and plugged into the Internet when she got home.

"Good thing I set all of utilities up before I got here." She muttered to herself as she turned the computer on. A few minutes later she was on the phone and calling Reid.

Baraboo, Wisconsin

"Justine Cantrell, "the sheriff stated, "twenty-five found earlier this afternoon. Cause of death to be determined after autopsy." Morgan looked up from the day planner he was inspecting.

"Cantrell? Isn't that the name of your first victim?" the sheriff nodded.

"Both she and Nelly were married to two of the Cantrell boys—Justine was…" he trailed off, sentence left unfinished. Reid looked at him expectantly.

"She was what?" he asked. Finally the sheriff, looking sheepish at his own fumble, finished what he had begun.

"I don't like spreading rumors Agent Reid—But Justine was known for having what we call a, roving eye." Reid looked at Morgan for help, a bit clueless. Morgan rolled his eyes and looked to the sheriff who was having a hard time believing Reid didn't know what he meant.

"Mr. Romance over here doesn't have that problem with his woman, you'll have to explain what that means." Reid glared at Morgan.

"Grace is not my woman—she's my…" Morgan lifted and eyebrow and Reid sighed.

"…Woman." The sheriff stared silently at the two until they were done. Reid was brought back to reality.

"Right, not the appropriate time… Please explain." The sheriff continued giving them both a look, shifting on his heel and gesturing to the young woman on the bed.

"Justine was married to Marty Cantrell who has to be over twenty years her senior. No one was quite sure why she married him."

"Maybe because that's what people do when they're in love, something you might not understand, having been married three times." The group turned to see a man with salt and pepper hair at the doorway. Morgan immediately moved forward.

"Sir, you can't be here, this is a crime scene." The man wasn't intimidated and continued forward.

"Like hell I can't be here, this is my house and the woman lying on that bed is my wife. What happened?" His voice had a false sense of calm to it, but he was obviously not calm at all. His hands were clenching and unclenching while his eyes blinked furiously against tears. It was a wonder he wasn't screaming. Morgan however had to keep him from contaminating the scene. He was able to get the man out of the room to talk to him about what had happened while Reid continued on with the sheriff. He barely opened his mouth when his cell phone rang. Excusing himself he answered and found Grace on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Spencer, it's Grace. I had a chance to look at the photos and reference with my notes."

"What did you find?"

"The flower is called a Catalpa."

"Does it have a message?"

"Well, according to my research it means—Beware the coquette."

"Beware the coquette? As in, beware the flirt?"

"Apparently. Does that not make sense?"

"Ye- yes, it makes perfect sense."

"Well, if it helps, that's what I've got for you—Not that it doesn't feel like I'm reading tarot cards."

"Well if you could divine the future, we wouldn't be here."

"Good point, call me if you need anything more."

"Right, I lo--" Reid stopped before he could continue on. Did he really want to say that now, over the phone? Despite his social awkwardness, he knew somethings were better said in person, when one was sure that's what they were wanting to say. Of course Grace wasn't aware of this internal struggle and was passed disappointed when he didn't finish his sentence.

"What?"

"I--ll let you know if something comes up."

"Oh. Right, yeah, call me."

After hearing her hang up, Reid shut his phone, kicking himself for being stupid, while he waited for Morgan to come back into the room. After a few moments the other agent returned alone. He was shaking his head as he entered the room, followed by two employees of the ME's office.

"Man, I will never get used to that." He looked at Reid and gave a questioning look.

"Find anything out?" he asked. Reid nodded as the two followed the ME's men and the gurney out of the room.

"Grace says the flower is known as a Catalpa and that it's used to signify someone being wary of someone who flirts." Morgan gave a whistle.

"So this means someone's pretty serious about what goes on around here." He said. Reid nodded his head in agreement as they got into the car.

"We'll have to find out what it was Gideon and Hotch got from their interview." He said as the car pulled away from the curb. Morgan looked at the road ahead of them grimly.

"I'm almost afraid to assume it's something pretty scandalous."