Murder

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"I need you to go undercover as a college student." Hotch says after calling me into his office.

"You're joking, right?" I scoff.

"Not even remotely." He says with a straight face.

"I've never been to college." I argue.

"But you have murdered before." He counters and now I'm confused.

"I want you to take a student law class. The professor likes to call it; How to get away with Murder. I need you to get to the top of the class." Hotch says and I quirk a brow.

"Your new name is Dee Alder." Hotch says and gives me my new ID.

"Oh, there's also a student who goes there, Lila Stangard. She went missing yesterday. I want you to look into it, see what you can find out." He says and shows me a photo.

"You gonna be checking in on me I suppose." I say thinking back to the last time I went undercover.

"No, if you need anything call Garcia on a pay phone, or whatever isn't traceable." He answers and I can't help but be surprised.

————

I get to my small apartment and can tell Hotch didn't spring luxury on my behalf. But at the same time it's better that he didn't because I need to blend in.

 But at the same time it's better that he didn't because I need to blend in

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It's not a lot but it's enough, I'll be just fine. I don't usually stay in the places I live all that often, I tend to go out at night more, take walks and stuff like that. If it has the basic necessities, it works for me.

My phone goes off and I roll my eyes when I see that it's Patrick.

"Sup." I answer the phone.

"Just checking in, seeing how you're doing." Patrick says casually and I scoff.

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?" I ask.

"It's not a crime to be worried about you."

"It should be. I'm getting sick of it." I scoff.

"I heard you're in California again." He changes the subject.

"Yeah, undercover, so you can't pop in whenever you want."

"Oh, like, let's say outside your apartment door?" He asks and I hear a knock.

"You have got to be kidding me." I huff and open the door to see Patrick standing there with a smile on his face and a bag of take out in his hand.

"Thought I'd welcome you with a nice, luke-warm meal." He chuckles and I scoff and let him in.

I had talked to him about the Red John case. I told him the truth, that I don't remember anything. I was in bed one minute and the next I was laying in someone's lawn, bleeding from my arm.

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