Reid sat in the front drivers seat of the black SUV that was still left in the police station's parking lot, trying to decide exactly what to do next. For right now, he had a potentially clear head, and was able to think straight compared to what he'd been thinking like these past few days. Placing his hands on the steering wheel just to have something to grip onto, Reid allowed himself to think through the various emotions that had been plaguing him as of late. Frustration at being treated like a kid, anger stemming from that frustration, and he'd also been feeling as if he had something to prove to the team, who he knew very well appreciated him already. It was all in his mind, he was just being paranoid.

His head then snapping up, his eyes widened to the point that he thought they might pop out of his sockets. Paranoid. That was the answer, and he didn't like it one bit. His body starting to shake slightly, he remembered back to the extensive research he'd done on schizophrenia. Unfortunately for him, paranoia was a starting sign that schizophrenia was starting to show through in the mind. Next he'd be having hallucinations and…

No. He couldn't let it get that far. Not only did the team need him, but he needed his clear head. If not for that, what would he have left in the world…? There had to be someway he could make this work, and not lose all he's done in the past twenty five and a half years. Taking a deep breath, Reid promised himself he'd make an appointment with someone back in Quantico to see what kinds of medication for the early signs of schizophrenia was available to him, but for now… for now he had to figure out this case, and he had a pretty good idea how to do so. After all, it wasn't like his ears were going as well…

Starting up the SUV and pulling out of the parking place, Reid then drove off, his eidetic memory letting him recall every twist and turn he needed to take to get himself to where he needed to go.

* * *

Judge Anderson Carlos presided over several cases.

67% of those cases were prosecuted by Jesse Rowlang.

24% of those same cases were defended by a certain Timothy Kurchner, the last person to be found dead by the BAU.

9% of all those cases were dismissed, and 2% of those dismissals, the plaintiff was a woman. And one of those women was Merryl Landman.

Her case had been about two things. On the surface, she'd taken the man who had driven into her boy-friends car to court and lost the case, and her lover at the same time. But if you dug deep enough, as Reid had asked Garcia to do, you found that Merryl also made a second plea just before they left the court room. The boy-friend had been taking care of his siblings - said siblings had been in the photos that Reid had taken notice of in her living room before. But Judge Carlos had dismissed that plea as well, instead handing the kids back over to the mother, who ended up doing a homicide-suicide while the ex husband was away.

That had to be the stressor.

Having had Garcia looking through the records, Reid also asked her to look for prior knowledge of chemicals and shooting experience. She had both. She fit the criteria, she had motive, and she was almost spot on with the short profile they'd constructed.

And Garcia even threw in the fact she'd had acting lessons and had come out at the top of the class.

"So… why do you need this information so late, sugar lips?" Garcia had said after Reid thanked her and had been about ready to hang up.

Thinking over his answer quickly, Reid slowly replied,

"Hotch asked me about it, and I thought it'd be easier to ask you, Garcia."

He was rewarded with an airy chuckle and a,

"Well of course it would be easier, I'm the mistress of everything knowledgeable! So you go ahead and tell Hotch I said catch that sick puppy for me, and get some sleep afterward, alright baby?"

Resisting the urge to tell her to never call him anything but Reid again, he said "alright" and hung up, sighing softly. He folded up the cell and placed it back in his pocket before getting out of the SUV. But the building in front of him wasn't Merryl's apartment; it was a different apartment completely, and he'd just seen a woman wearing black gloves exit a small, dark green sedan and enter said apartment. Reid's hand went down to his side arm to make sure it was still on his hip, then continued through the same door the woman had just moments before.

* * *

Garcia continued to sit in her office, still beaming with pride at Reid's compliment, but sadly the happy haze was not to last up to the cold doubt of logic. If Hotch had asked and Reid hadn't had an answer, why wouldn't Hotch call her himself? Why wasn't she put on speaker like always? And why was it so damn late Reid chose to call? Her brows furrowing, Garcia admitted that something didn't add up. Reaching over to the phone on her desk, she used her fluffy troll head pen to dial Hotch's number.

* * *

Dimly, Hotch realized that his cell was ringing. Reaching out with his hand to the bedside stand that his cell and gun were laying on, Hotch flipped it open and said groggily into the receiver,

"Hotchner…"

"Hotch? You sound like you were sleeping…" Garcia's voice sounded in his ear and he shook his head, sitting up slightly, the covers falling off his still fully clothed body.

"Yeah, I was. Did you find anything new about the case?"

"Y-yes, actually…" Garcia said, her voice sounding strange, which woke Hotch up even more.

And Hotch listened with growing horror to the tech-analyst as she recounted the call Reid had made just moments ago. When she finished what she was saying, Hotch took a small breath to calm his voice, then said slowly and precisely,

"Triangulate his cell and call me back with his location."

And Hotch was up and moving, hell bent on going after Reid before something bad could happen.

* * *

"Oh god no, please, no!"

Reid heard the strange male voice cry out, and grimaced to himself as he held his gun a bit in front of him, pointed at the ground, his finger on the trigger. He'd checked the other doors before following Merryl into Scott Karrel's apartment, only to find that Merryl had chosen a night where no one but her target was home; probably so no one would hear him screaming and begging for his life like he was now. Coming up to the slightly open door, and took out a small recording device from inside his bag. If Merryl was as good as an actor Garcia proclaimed her to be, and as good as he remembered her to be, then he'd need something to justify his actions this night. Clicking it on, Reid stood at the door and continued to listen, taking deep, slow, silent breaths.

"Shut up, Scott." he heard Merryl say.

"P-Please, I don't want to die! Not today, I have kids! Think of my kids!"

"Kids, huh? Why should I think of yours when you didn't think of Danny's? Don't you remember, you despicable man? You killed Danny with your fucking car, and let his mother take back his brothers and sisters! Do you know what happened to them? Do you even care?! His mother killed them! They're dead because of you!"

"Please…!" the man sounded like he was close to tears now as Reid edged a bit closer, getting ready to jump in at a moments notice; there was no reason in being here if there wasn't something he could do to save Scott.

"No." Merryl continued, and the distinct sound of the safety being released sounded out around the three of them, and Scott started sobbing. "You deserve to die. Just like those other men who wouldn't give a second thought to kids who weren't their own."

Her voice sounded amazingly cold, even to Reid, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Taking another deep breath, he suddenly burst through the door, fully expecting to have the element of surprise. But before he could even utter the word "FBI," he found himself staring down the barrel of Merryl's gun, her eyes once warm and filled with tears, now cold and calculating.

"Hello agent. Somehow I knew we'd meet again."

* * *

"Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act, falls the shadow."

- T.S. Eliot

* * *

A/N : Alright, just one, maybe two more chapters to go. Keep reading, my loyal fans! And thanks to all you who have reviewed or are planning on reviewing, because you help so much.

- Lyon