Heurism | Spencer Reid¹

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX: THE LION'S DEN

"I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, my enemies for their good intellects."

     — Oscar Wilde.

—

The apartment is silent. Even the crash of the kicked-down door seems muted. Hands clutching onto my gun, I follow the others in. A clothes dryer has been knocked over, a phone lying on the floor.

I smell it before we enter. Again, that awful sting of iron. Morgan nudges open the door to the bedroom. Red lashes streak up the walls. And Rebecca Bryant lies on her bed, eyes wide open. I try not to look at the deep, gaping incision that marks right from her navel to her throat. I try not to think about the other people who will come next if we don't catch Frank. I try not to think about myself, there, lying in my own bed, my blood painting the walls, my body open and scattered. What it would do to the others, to Gideon, to Reid, if they found me like that.

Hotch draws the curtains, the first light of dawn starting to peek through. He stands there and just looks at her. "Hotch," Morgan tries gently, "nothing could have stopped this."

I dare to come closer, crouching by her side, reaching to close her eyes. Something catches my eye. She holds something in her bloody hand. It isn't a rib this time. No, it's a rolled up piece of paper. I carefully take it from her and lay her hand upon the mattress. "It's a note. '7:00 a.m. Union Station.'"

"All eight other targets on that list are safe and accounted for," Reid reminds us.

"Then we've missed someone or something. Now that he's set a meeting..."

"He's going to raise the stakes, just like he did last time," Morgan finishes for him. "He's going to make it impossible for us not to trade Jane for whoever he's got."

Hotch's phone rings. For a moment, I allow myself to hope that it's Gideon, that I'll be able to hear his voice. "Yeah, JJ?" he answers, and my hope fades.

"I think I found Jane. Beat cops found a woman who was ranting and raving about needing to talk to the BAU. She assaulted one of the police officers. She's being processed as we speak."

"Okay," Morgan huffs, "so what have we missed?"

"Frank's incapable of experiencing normal feelings."

At Reid's words, he shrugs. "Yeah, but he takes what normal people hold sacred."

Prentiss's eyes widen slightly. "Like the children he took in Golconda."

"JJ, I'm going to have Prentiss call you to find out where to pick up Jane. We'll all meet back at the BAU. I'm going to wait for the crime scene unit."

"I'll wait with you," I offer. As I look back at Rebecca's body, I know that I can't let this happen again. I have to do something.

"No, I want you to go back to the office where you're safe."

Clenching my jaw, I nod and follow the others out. "Yes, sir."

——————

There's only so long I can keep looking at all those victim files before it gets to me. Even in the safety of the BAU, it's like Frank is right behind me, looming over my shoulder, waiting for his moment. As it starts to get dark outside, I know I can't go home. The probability of him being there is too high.

Still, I can't think of what to do. There are people out there, survivors who are going to go through all that hell again. They don't deserve this. As I sit in the little courtyard of the BAU, cigarette in hand, I mull over the problem. There must be something I can do.