Case by Case

"Chicago Flower Man"

JJ walked up and down the plane distributing brown folders that contained the very information that would potentially haunt me for the rest of my life.

"Just give this a read, paying attention to the details of the victims and any unusual things that stand out to you." JJ says, handing me the folder with a sincere smile on her face. Taking the folder and placing it on the table in front of me, I look out at the window and it is still very much bright out.

Its just hard to believe that someone would intentionally hurt these women, it doesn't make any sense. Then again, what really makes sense out of this job?

"Coffee?" Spencer walks past me with a slight smile on his face

"Oh, no thank you. I don't drink coffee" I say shaking my head, Spencer's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You don't drink coffee?" his voice louder than he intended, "How can you not drink coffee, it is like the epitome of greatest substance known to man kind"

"Well, I like to think of myself as the 17% that do not categorize themselves in coffee drinking category" I say shifting into my seat. I look down at the case file in front of me, my eyebrows forming a frown on my face. Reid notices this and sits opposite me.

"Are you okay?" also holding a brown folder, looking at the gruesome photographs.

"Me? Oh yeah, totally okay." Not believing a thing I said, Spencer looks at me in complete disbelief, sighing, I just let out what has been bugging me, "it doesn't get easier does it?" I look up to him in desperation.

"Well I've been here for almost 7 years now, and the amount of serial killers that we have in the US is 1% or less-"

"But that one percent is our responsibility" I shake my head.

"Look, Alison, it's a tough job, but you know how this works. You can't personalize it. You have to do the best you can, that's all any of us can do." I nod and sit back in my chair and rest my head.

It's the first day here and its already getting to me...

I look across to Reid and he is flicking over each page in 2 seconds after he looks at it, "Can you actually read that fast?" I look at him, still amazed that he is actually reading at that insane speed.

"Our conscious mind can process 16 bits of information per second, our unconscious can process eleven million," I still stare at him, "yes, I can actually read this fast" we both laugh as we resume to study the bodies in our case files.

"Alright, once we land, Morgan and Rossi, head to the dumpsites. JJ and Reid set up at the field office and the rest of us will talk to the families." We all nodded and started to review the information as a group.

Payton Ellington's family home - Wednesday 12pm.

Knock, knock, and knock.
A petite brunette, age around 50 opened the door, the chain still connecting the door to the doorframe.

"Mrs. Ellington? I'm SSA Hotchner with the FBI, may we please come in?" Hotch stands with one hand in his black suit jacket and the other holding out his credentials to the lady peering the gap of the door. The brown, heavy looking door shuts and then opens again, this time the entire way, enough to let myself, Hotch and Emily through the door.

"Firstly, I would like to express my condolences for your family, I understand how difficult this may be." Emily steps in, her arms stretched out in a very sympathetic manner. Mrs. Ellington walks over to her living room, and takes a seat on the very modern suede sofa, her arms wrapped around herself, like children trying to comfort themselves.

"Mrs. Ellington, may we please as some questions about your daughter?" I ask, sitting across from her in the single seat, separated by a glass table that had magazines standing there that were almost 2 months old. Showing that she didn't read them herself, but they were merely just to fill the empty space on the table.

Slowly nodding in agreement, she meets my eyes, full of sadness. My heart wrenched, my stomach twisted, and my eyes became sore.

"Okay," I nod "Was there anyone that Payton had issues with, any school friends? Work colleagues?"

"N-No, she was a very well liked girl. Studied very hard to get the grades that she did." Her voice shaking and she stared at her palms that held a wrinkled up tissue. Wiping a tear that escaped her left eye.

"What was she studying?" Hotchner asked,

"Criminology," Payton's mother smiled, "she wanted to be in the police force" her face darkens again.

"Mrs. Ellington, was there anything unusual that happened within the weeks or days leading up to her disappearance?" I ask in a quiet tone.

"No, she went about her daily activities, she worked part time as a barista down town, she loved it there" I wrote down the name of the café and gave it to Hotch.

After a few more questions, it was clear that Mrs. Ellington was extremely tired, it didn't take a profiler to figure that out.

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Ellington. But please, if anything else comes to mind, don't hesitate to call" Handing her my business card, she held my hand in hers for a brief second before I pulled away to shut the door behind me,

"Agent Lester?" she says after I turn away.

"Yes ma'am?"

"There is something else I remember, I didn't think it was important, maybe it isn't but I thought you should know-"

"What is it Mrs. Ellington?" I ask, pushing the door wider.

"Flowers." Flowers? "There were a type of white flower that had been placed under the wipers of her car every morning for 1 week, everyday at 7am when I left for work, there it was. I didn't think anything of it. But Payton - she was stressed out. I thought she just had an admirer, not a stalker. I wish I believed that nothing bad happens in this town, but I'm not so sure anymore."

"Thank you ma'am, we will stay in touch." I say, shaking her hand and walking back out the door,

"Please catch him" I hear her call from behind me, the desperation in her voice was hardly hidden.

"What was that about?" Emily asked confused,

"Uh, Mrs. Ellington said that her daughter had been receiving a white flower each day for a week leading up the her disappearance, she said it may have been a type of rose, but she couldn't be sure." I say looking down at the photo of Payton in my hands. Her Brunette hair fell just below her shoulders, her green eyes illuminated the photo. A very low risk victim, in a very high risk area.

"A flower?" Hotch confirms, as I nod

"Yeah, left on her car every morning."

"Great, an Unsub that loves gardening, shouldn't be too hard to narrow down" Emily says sarcastically as she brushes her dark bangs out of her face.