Okay, here's chapter three! It's a bit longer than the others have been! Hope you like it!


The four agents slid out of the SUV, quickly walking towards the bustling police station. As they entered, a tall, brown haired Detective jumped up from a desk near the door and walked up to them. "You all must be the BAU," he said grimly, offering his hand to Rossi, who shook it.

"I'm Agent Rossi, and these are Agents Jareau, Prentiss, and Doctor Reid," Rossi said quickly, introducing them all. The tall man shook each of their hands in turn, looking slightly confused as Reid dismissed his hand and simply waved.

"Uh, nice to meet you all. Wish it was under different circumstances though. I'm Detective Skinner," the man said. "Weren't you all a team of six?"

"Agents Hotchner and Morgan already went to the crime scene," JJ answered. "Is there anywhere we can set up?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. We cleared out one of our old back rooms for you," Detective Skinner said, motioning for them to follow. He lead them to a room positioned almost directly at the back of the station, past a holding cell, a bathroom, and a few offices. JJ flipped a light switch and the lights flickered on, illuminating a decent sized room with a few small windows. There were two magnetic whiteboards, a large table, and several office chairs.

"This will be perfect, thank you," JJ said. They all filed inside, immediately setting to work. A few pictures and pages from the files were stuck up on one board, and Reid set about scribbling a few things on the other.

Just as they were finishing setting everything up, Detective Skinner poked his head around the doorframe. "Agents? A few of the family members of two of the victims are here, if you wanted to talk to them."

Behind him they could see a few people being led towards interview rooms, the last of which being a man who was dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. "Mr. Jenson," Prentiss said unnecessarily. "Which victim is the other woman related to?"

"The officer, Joey McAllen," Skinner answered.

"Alright. Why don't we split up and go talk to them," JJ said, staring after the distressed man.

"Prentiss and I can go talk to Mrs. McAllen. You and Reid go talk to Mr. Jenson," Rossi said. He and Prentiss followed the woman who had been lead into the interview room farthest down the hall.

"Come on, Spence," JJ said solemnly, and they walked down the hall to the room Detective Skinner pointed them to.

JJ knocked softly and pushed the door open, and they slowly walked in and sat down across the table from him. He was sitting with his head in his hands, a box of tissues placed next to him, most likely work of the female Detective standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Jenson?" JJ asked quietly.

"Please. Call me Ernie," he said, lifting his head and grabbing another tissue.

"Ernie. I'm Agent Jareau, and this is Doctor Reid. We're with the FBI. I was wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

"Sure. Anything I could do to help," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

"Thank you. We understand this is hard for you. We're sorry to ask, but could you go through what happened that night?"

He nodded his head, sniffing. "Uh, I got home at the normal time. Around eight," he said, his voice sounding hollow. "I went in to see her in her lab, but she was busy. She's always busy lately. At least, she was." He took a deep breath. "I let her get back to her work, and I was on my way back to the house when the explosion went off. I tried to get to her but… I, uh… I couldn't. My neighbor pulled me away. And I hit my head in the blast, the next thing I remember is waking up in the ambulance and the paramedic telling me…"

The Detective behind him put her hand on his shoulder as he broke down into a fresh wave of tears.

"What time did you receive the rose?" Reid asked after a few seconds.

"It was just after lunchtime, I think. I didn't see who delivered it, it was just dropped off," Ernie answered.

"Did your wife say anything about hers when you talked to her?" JJ asked.

"She said it came around the same time mine did. Two o'clock or so."

"Okay. Can you think of anyone who would have wanted to hurt your wife?" JJ asked.

"No! That's the thing. Everyone liked her. And especially now, when she was so close to a breakthrough…"

"A breakthrough?" Reid asked. "In what?"

"With her research. She was researching cures for diseases. She was just about to make a major breakthrough in her work to cure cancer. That's mainly why I hadn't seen her in the past few weeks a lot. She'd had a big article in the paper. Any time she hadn't spent in the lab, she was taking interviews and in meetings," Ernie said, looking proud.

A sharp knock sounded at the door, and Rossi stuck his head in, nodding towards the hall. Reid stood and excused himself, leaving JJ to talk to Ernie. "What's up?" Reid asked as the door swung shut behind him.

"Your victim just had a big article in the paper?" Rossi said. Reid nodded. "Well, so did ours."

Reid looked over to the room where Prentiss was still sitting with the wife of the deceased police officer. She was just handing over a newspaper clipping from her purse.

"Do you think the UnSub is picking victims who are featured in the paper?" Reid asked.

"It depends on whether our last victim had one or not," Rossi said.

"Well, then we'd better get looking."


He pulled the car to the side of the road again, this time hopping out and making his way into a shabby apartment building. He walked straight in, timing his way perfectly so that he met an occupant of the building on her way out. He smiled and held the door open for her. Didn't they realize how easy it was to get past a simple locked door?

The back staircase was located on the other side of the building, so he walked down the long hall full of doors, jovially greeting any people he saw. He took the stairs two at a time, all the way up to the top floor. The door closest to the stairs was the one he was headed for, and he stopped there, knocking twice.

"Just a minute!" he heard a slightly raspy voice call out. Then the sound of shuffled footsteps, followed by nearly twenty seconds of locks being undone. The door cracked open just enough to see a green eye peering through, accompanied by shaggy brown hair. "Nikolas?"

"Yes, it's me. I'm not an imposter." He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. They went through this drill every single time.

"But an impostor would say that too," the raspy voiced man responded.

"Listen, I am Nikolas. You gave me a question to answer to prove my identity. Ask it."

There was a moment of suspicious silence, before the man said, "When does the duck fly?"

"It doesn't fly. It's dead."

The owner of the green eye still looked a bit skeptical, but the door closed and the rest of the chains slid off. Nikolas looked around to make sure there wasn't anyone watching and slid through the door as soon as it opened, closing it quickly behind himself.

The room he stepped into was anything but welcoming. It was very dark, all the windows blacked out and the light switches broken. The only light came from a small lamp that was missing its shade, sitting on the floor next to a once ornate wooden chair that was now covered in scratches. The ground was littered with crumpled paper and other garbage, the walls almost completely covered in newspaper clippings. A small TV as in the corner of the room opposite the chair and lamp, several notebooks perched on top.

The first few times he'd entered the apartment, he couldn't help but stare around at the walls and try to take in everything. But by now he was used to it.

"I've completed my last mission," Nikolas said as the other man sat down in the chair. The Boss, as Nikolas called him, seeing as he didn't yet know his name.

"Yes. I noticed. You did very well," the Boss said, nodding towards a spot on the wall. The newspaper article on the home explosion was stuck up there, proudly displayed next to the two other articles announcing the death of the officer and the charity owner.

"Thank you," Nikolas replied, nodding calmly. He was eager to get to the next part of the conversation, but he knew the best way to play his hand in this situation. He had to remain neutral. Showing his excitement last time had earned him several days of waiting, as the Boss had been suspicious. Nikolas kept his face completely impassive, an easy feat. He didn't have to try hard to fool people.

And sure enough, from an inside pocket of the ripped and stained jacket he was wearing, the Boss produced an envelope. "I have another assignment for you. I've been watching this one for several days now. Looks pretty harmless, but he's the farthest thing from it. You'd best be very cautious about this one."

"No problem. I'll get the job done quickly," Nikolas replied.

"Yes, yes. The article is in there, so you'll have everything you'll need. And your payment is included, don't worry about that. Just get your mission done."

"No problem, Boss," Nikolas said, giving a curt nod once again. "Shall I let myself out?"

"No!" the Boss nearly screeched. "I need to come and make sure my door is locked before you leave! The second you go, the very second you disappear from sight of my door, they could show up. And if my door isn't locked…"

"Who are they?" Nikolas asked, not for the first time. But he got the same answer he always did. None. The Boss just wrung his hands together, mumbling to himself as he shuffled towards the door.

Nikolas was quickly shooed out, and with one more reassurance that he'd stay outside the door for the time it took the locks to be redone, the door snapped shut. Nikolas realized as he stood there that he'd never mentioned that the FBI was working on the mysterious deaths now. In fact, he'd never mentioned that anyone was.

Though, it was probably wise that he hadn't. The Boss would have freaked out, most likely thinking there was another conspiracy against him, like the one the people in the paper supposedly had. And if he became upset enough, he could attack again. Like the second time Nikolas had been to his apartment. He'd left that day with a large bandage around his arm, an attempt to stop the bleeding from the large slash the Boss had caused with the silver knife he kept on himself at all times.

Besides, the Boss may stop giving assignments. And that would be unacceptable. Nikolas enjoyed them far too much for them to stop.

The scraping of locks being re-locked from behind the door stopped and a sharp knock sounded, signaling him to go. He walked back down to his car, eager to rip into the envelope and find his next target.


Review? :D