THIRTY TWO

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THIRTY TWO

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THIRTY TWO. ADRENALINE

LATER THAT MORNING, IT WAS CLEAR TO SEE THAT HOTCH AND DAISY HAD A DIFFERENT ENERGY FOLLOWING THEM AROUND. While both were still incredibly stressed, they weren't so inclined as to take it out on each other. It was no question that they would get on one another's nerves again at some point in the day, but they had made a silent decision to wait until after the case was over.

"He never used code before, why now?" Hotch nodded to the picture Daisy held in her hands. It was from the bus attack the night before, where the numbers 1488-201-1439 had been scrawled in blood on the side windows.

"They're not part of a pattern or equation," Spencer and Rossi stood behind the seated Daisy, studying the images taken at the crime scene. "Mathematically, they're insignificant."

"Maybe so, but I know I've seen them before," Rossi murmured. Daisy curled her arm behind her and handed the photo over, letting him take it so that he could look at it closer.

"He likes to attack people in their cars," she pointed out. "Foyet only catches the bus, and last night he attacked a bus. It's gotta be connected."

"It was the number seven," Hotch muttered, looking over at the board with a map and notes scribbled on it, mostly in Spencer's unintelligible handwriting. The unit chief focused more on the map, and pointed to a particular area. "That bus stops right in front of Foyet's apartment."

"He knows where Foyet lives," Rossi concluded.

"And he wants us to know it," Daisy sighed softly.

"Fourteen-thirty-nine," Spencer piped up, his thin eyebrows raising in realisation. "The apartment you interviewed him in was fourteen-thirty-nine Yarbrough."

"What're his other addresses?" Daisy looked back at Rossi. "You said you wrote them down, right?"

Rossi nodded, pulling out his notepad and putting in on the tabletop. "Two-oh-one South Brookline, fourteen-eighty-eight Edenhurst. The numbers on the bus are Foyet's addresses."

Hotch visibly tensed. "We'll split up and cover each address."

★☆

Daisy stayed attached to Morgan's side as they snuck up the porch steps of one of Foyet's homes. Morgan unlocked the front door with ease, pushing it open without as much as a squeak. He lifted his hand to wave Daisy and O'Mara forward, the three of them splitting up within the house to cover all possible ground.

Daisy's feet carried her through the home and up the staircase, where she quietly opened each of the doors, her gun at the ready. She took the second flight of the house alone, but seeing as there was little space to cover, she managed to clear the floor with ease. There was nothing of interest, and she managed to slip into what she assumed was Foyet's room, her gun raised. It was empty.

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