Heurism | Spencer Reid¹

CHAPTER THREE: THE FOX

"With foxes, we must play the fox."

     — Dr Thomas Fuller

—

I follow Morgan and Gideon in the search for more answers, finding ourselves in an elevator heading through the IRS office. Kapp, one of Mr Crawford's co-workers, is tasked with showing us around. "He had his share of problems at home. Who doesn't?" he says, leading the way out into a dim corridor. "But he didn't fix them by killing his family."

"Were you aware he was in therapy?"

"He mentioned marriage counselling."

Gideon walks alongside him. Behind with me, Morgan chimes in, "He say who?"

The man gives a shrug. "Nope, and I didn't ask. I don't like to pry."

He fails to hide his doubt as we are shown into a rather grey office. "Well, that's surprising coming from an IRS agent." He makes a beeline for the desk with just a quick request, "You mind if we go through Chris's belongings, see if he had any connection to Miller?"

I wait by the door but the other two have already begun to go through a cardboard box on the desk. Kapp sees my hesitance and sighs in resignation. "You're welcome to look through anything you like."

No sooner have I approached them than I notice the piece of paper in Gideon's hands. The crayon scribbles catch my interest. "What d'you got there?"

His eyes narrow, darting up to meet mine. "Sully, you were in social work before you joined," he begins, though I expect a bigger question coming. "Who else uses the Family Drawing Test?"

"Depends from one practitioner to another, but typically child psychologists and therapists — especially family therapists." The second I say it, it hits me. Morgan said the workplace was the connection between the UnSub and his victims. This must be it. "I'll call Hotchner."

——————

As opposed to every office I've been in just today, the Applewood Family Centre is a bright and welcoming place. The corridor we walk along is decorated with artwork, some professional, some in the clumsy hand of a child. Though Hotchner walks ahead of us all, he pauses outside of one of the rooms and turns to me. "This is your area of expertise, you should take the lead."

Blanching, I look to Gideon for permission. He only nods. I open the door. The suspect, Dr Howard is a slight woman, mid-forties with red hair kept back in a ponytail. She had been crouching before a girl with a drawing pad but stands at our entrance. A glimpse at the badge I produce from my inside pocket seems to put her at ease. "Sorry to interrupt, Doctor. I'm SSA Danielle O'Sullivan with the FBI. We'd like to ask some questions."

The mother, who had accompanied us anxiously from the waiting room, ushers the little girl out. The second they're gone and the door is shut, she glares at us, arms crossed. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Agent Jason Gideon, Behavioural Analysis."

She quirks an eyebrow. "We both deal with the dysfunctional. Happily, in my line, the end results aren't quite as unpleasant as yours."

"Unless you're the Crawford family."

"Or the Millers," Hotchner adds. "You knew them both."