"There are three kinds of folks who sit around thinking about how to become a murderer: psychopaths, profilers and mystery writers.
I'm the kind that pays better"
Once they stopped their banter, Reid and Castle turned back to face Hunter—only to realize he was gone. The space was empty except for them, and the only thing left was the lingering tension in the air. Reid let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"Great," he muttered. "Just what we needed."
Castle, ever the optimist, nudged him with her elbow. "Come on, genius. Let's focus on what we do know."
With that, they decided to regroup with the team and head to New York's biggest bank institution, hoping to connect the dots. As they arrived at the grand, imposing building, the atmosphere felt heavy with the anticipation of what they might discover.
Hotch led the way inside, where they were met with the imposing figure of Miranda Laham, the bank's president. Standing beside her, surprisingly, was Fletch's wife, Marissa. The two women looked concerned but composed, as if they were expecting trouble.
"Mrs. Fletch, Ms. Laham," Hotch greeted them with a nod, his tone all business. "We need to ask you a few questions."
"And Ms. Fletch need to tell you some good news," Mrs Laham stated with a small yet unsettling grin.
Marissa stepped forward, clutching her purse tightly. "My husband... he contacted me. Just an hour ago. He told me to come here. I—I didn't know what to think." She pulled out her phone and pressed play to the recorded voicemail.
"Marissa, NY BANK, you know what to do. Trust no one. See you at home. Love you"
Miranda, her expression cool and collected, added, "Stan trusted me with all his financial affairs. If he's alive, we need to act quickly before anything else happens."
Hotch exchanged a look with Reid, Emily, and Castle. This new information threw everything into disarray. If Stan Fletch was still alive, then the case was far more complicated than they'd initially thought.
"We need to verify whether Stan Fletch is actually dead," Hotch decided, his voice firm. "Reid, Emily, Castle—head to the morgue. Confirm me if the body is still there. We need to be absolutely sure."
——
The trio nodded and quickly left the bank, making their way to the city morgue. The ride there was tense, the weight of the case pressing down on them. As they entered the cold, sterile environment of the morgue, they were greeted by the coroner, who led them to the body of Stan Fletch.
Reid leaned over the body, studying it intently. "It's definitely him," he murmured, his mind racing with possibilities. "But if he lived under a hidden identity... Stan Fletch never existed."
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Castle peered over Reid's shoulder, her face scrunched in thought. "So, either someone's using his identity to access his accounts, or he faked his own death to get away from something."
