JJ couldn't help but notice that Reid had not only distanced himself from the conversation, but had also distanced himself from the group. When she looked around the room trying to locate him, she realized that he was now standing in the far corner, staring out the windows onto the deck.
"Spence?" she walked over to him.
"She's my wife and I didn't even know she likes lemonade," Reid turned his woebegone face towards her.
"When you went out to eat, didn't you ever notice what she ordered?" JJ asked.
"We never went out to eat," Reid confessed. "When we were at my place, Emma always cooked. She said she liked to. And, when we were with the team, we were always on a case and she just ate whatever was brought in."
"You never once took your wife out to eat?" JJ demanded.
"I tried to," Reid admitted. "Rossi set it up." He had the grace to look embarrassed. "But, then you and the others were kidnapped and we never even got to order. I don't even know what she likes to eat."
JJ drew a deep breath. "First off, Spence, even when someone likes to cook they do sometimes appreciate sitting down and being served a meal they didn't prepare. You might want to keep that in mind. Now, second, and I know this isn't easy for you, but you two have never actually been together as a married couple, have you? And, really Spence, I'm not trying to pry, I am just asking," she said.
Reid sadly shook his head. "Just – No – Well, not really," he stammered.
"Well, I think you need to do some serious thinking," JJ told him. "And, if I see what I think I am seeing, you had better do it fast!"
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"Mrs. Jenkins?" Blake found the retired English teacher working behind the snack bar.
"Yes, Agent Blake, isn't it?" the woman replied.
"That's right," Blake smiled at her. "Is there some place we could speak with you in private?"
"We think you might know something that can help us catch this guy," Rossi explained.
"Okay, just a moment." The former teacher signaled across the room and soon had another senior citizen volunteer in place behind the snack bar. She then managed, almost magically, to find an empty office for the three of them to settle into.
"Now, I am going to describe someone," Blake led off the discussion. "And, I would like you to listen and see if this description matches someone you taught over the years."
"It might not be an exact match," Rossi added. "But, it should be fairly close. And, don't be concerned about sullying someone's reputation. This is strictly between the three of us," he quickly assured her.
"This person would be a local," Blake began her description. "Either they were born in the area or they moved here as a very young child. They wouldn't stand out in any way. As a matter of fact, growing up they were probably very frequently overlooked. And, while they were quite intelligent, you may not have really noticed them in your classroom; to the point where on some days you may have been surprised to suddenly realize that they were in their seat."
"This individual would have suffered a major loss early on in their life," Rossi took up the narrative. "And, more recently, they would have experienced another loss. Both of these would have affected their lifestyle and their outlook on life."
"While they may have known everyone in the area and gotten along with everyone, they would not have had any close friends," Blake resumed. "They would have always been on the outside looking in."
"Does this fit anyone - ?" Rossi stopped in mid-sentence as Mrs. Jenkins' mouth fell open.
"You've thought of someone?" he questioned.
"We need to get Sheriff Gardner in here," the woman blurted out. "I'm not sure and I need to check with him!" She abruptly stood up, knocking over the chair she had been sitting in.
"The last I saw, he was in the conference room," Blake told her as the two agents followed her out the door and down the hallway.
"Jack – Jack Gardner," Mrs. Jenkins called out as she walked into the conference room. "I need to speak with you in private, immediately!"