Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid entered the briefing room together. Pacing the floor was Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner, looking every bit the FBI agent in his dark suit and tie. To anyone off the street, Hotchner, or Hotch as he was called by the team, would have looked angry, but Reid knew better. He just always looked serious when he was on a case. It came with being an attorney for a time too. Sitting at the table, gray laptop open, was Penelope Garcia. She had blonde hair that she normally wore in some funky style that matched her loud and outlandish clothing. She wore red rimmed glasses, and who could blame her for her taste in clothes? The woman spent her time surrounded by computer screens. Sitting next to Garcia was Emily Prentiss. She was the newest member of the team, having been with them for less than a year. She was an ambassador's daughter, but knew her stuff. Jason Gideon was seated beside her. He was an old-timer in the Bureau, except he'd taken some time off after one particular case sent him over the edge. He had previously been in charge of the BAU, but when he had left, Hotch took it over. And standing near a flat-screen monitor was Jennifer Jareau, or JJ. She was blonde with a stunning smile. She was the team's liaison. She handled all the press for them. She also handled contact with the requesting police and sheriff departments.
Reid and Morgan took seats at the table and Hotch stopped his pacing. All eyes were on JJ. She clicked a small hand-held device in her hands and the FBI logo disappeared and was replaced with two photographs of young men. "Woodbridge has a serial killer," JJ said, foregoing any and all pretenses.
"Isn't that, like, right up the road?" Prentiss asked.
JJ nodded. "These two men died of identical blunt force traumas to the head. On the right is Justin Greene. He was twenty-two at the time of his murder. On the left is Donald Went. He was twenty-five." JJ paused for a moment. "The Woodbridge PD has asked for our help in this because of the time lapse between the two deaths. They were killed seven years apart."
Morgan stared at JJ. "How can we be so sure that these guys were killed by the same guy? It could just be some coincidence." He glanced at Reid. Reid kept his mouth shut, not wanting to waste his breath.
"Because both were found with this," JJ responded. She clicked to the next frame of her presentation, the photograph of two handwritten notes, both saying the same thing. JJ read the words slowly, "'For in thy bed I purpose to destroy thee.'"
Reid's eyes focused on the words. His mind clicked in milliseconds where the quote was from. "'The Rape of Lucerne,' Shakespeare," he told the group.
"Were these men rapists?" Gideon asked.
Garcia clacked away at the keyboard quickly. "If they were, sir, I'm not finding that they were reported."
"Fifty-nine percent of all rapes go unreported," Reid recited.
"So we're looking for a possible house-cleaner? A vigilante, who's killing rapists?" Prentiss asked.
"It sure looks that way. Let's get on the road in ten," Hotch told the group.