all that matters.

chapter seven

*Spencer*

I felt my mouth go dry. Quickly I swallowed, and pulled out my gun. Walters did the same and we took off running in the direction of the shots.

-

"Sir, I'm going to need you to put the gun down." I said, trying to fill my voice with careful authority. Bethany quickly moved quickly, and carefully, applying pressure to the wounds. The man's eyes darted between me and a beautiful woman in her early thirties.

"Sh-sh-she l-lied to m-me." He choked between whimpered sobs.

"I'm very sorry sir, but if you could please put the gun down,"

His lip quivered as he tossed his gun into the bushes. My gun still trained on the shooter, Bethany his wrists into silver hand cuffs.

-

The past hours were as expected. Interrogations, a hospital visit, etc. I was glad it wasn't huge. It had also given me a greater appreciation for her. Gentle speed, level headed, intelligent. I was sure she could handle herself in a situation.

[({x})]

Penelope smiled.

"Alright my fantabulous sugar puffs, this is a good- I mean bad? Something like that- one. You're looking at Savannah Clark, er- rather, the remains of Savannah, a 23 year old mother. She was found by a couple of joggers on the beach this Tuesday. Autopsy says a few interesting things to say the least. She couldn't have been dead for over a day, and her body was discovered roughly an hour after dump time. San Diego, California. Now here's the sad part..." Switched the slide.  "The body of her little boy was found a quarter mile away."

For a moment no one said anything.

"Wow," Was all Prentiss could manage. It was rare to see any one of us speechless.

I frowned, looking at the face of Savannah. Her drivers license picture displayed a smiling woman- supermodel gorgeous, with honey colored coils, warm hazel eyes, clear completely straight teeth. The pictures of the crime scene though, were gnarly and disfigured. Her long hair had been shaved, her clear face was broken out in rash and acne, covered in dirt, teeth crooked and bleeding- clearly recently shifted with force. What once may be been considered gorgeous, lay in a heap.

"Any signs of sexual assault?" Beth asked quietly.

"Yes, unfortunately. And post mordem rape, reaching a new level of creepiness. Rapist slash necrophile slash murder part time- well, I don't know."

"He's organized then. Clearly, he fits in, because surprisingly enough there's a lot of people on the beach in the morning." I muttered.

After looking at a few more horrific images, we began to get our stuff together.

"Wheels up in twenty." Hotch finished.