LIKE A GIRL ｡ CRIMINAL MINDS

THIRTY THREE

unedited!

THIRTY THREE. FOYET

DAISY'S MIND WAS WHIRRING AS SHE PACED BACK AND FORTH IN THE POLICE STATION. She'd refused a seat, not wanting to be pandered to (despite literally having been shot in the arm less than two hours ago). She was doing remarkably well for someone in her situation, but she attributed that to the painkillers and determination that coursed through her veins. She knew something still didn't fit, and as the clocked ticked on, the feeling of what it was blossomed in her stomach. 

"Why is he so focused on Foyet?" Hotch asked from the table, surrounded by a dozen other officers and agents. He'd been one of the first to offer up his seat to the injured agent, and he hadn't been too thrilled when she insisted that she was okay to stand. It stressed him out, seeing her wandering around in a sling and shirt from the lost and found. She didn't want to go back to the hotel to get a change of clothes, instead settling on that said I <3 NY and a pair of loose cargo shorts. "What's so special about him?"

"He was his only surviving victim," JJ shrugged tiredly, running her hands through her freshly chopped hair. She was just as exhausted as everybody else, wanting the case to be over and done with before more people got hurt. "The only one he couldn't defeat."

"But he's not a threat. Defeating him would be no great accomplishment," Hotch insisted, trying to ignore how Daisy was shuffling through the pictures scattered around the room, mostly focusing on Foyet's dead girlfriend's body. "There's something there that we're missing."

"How old was Amanda again?" Daisy asked, her question more directed at Spencer, since he was the most likely to remember. Attention was drawn to her, many of the law enforcers feeling guilty for sitting down while the gunshot survivor skipped around them trying to solve the murder. 

"Nineteen."

"Pretty young for a twenty-eight year old," she commented, her eyes trained on the pictures of Amanda's mutilated body. She thought about the Reaper's victimology - young women in a relationship. "It's not illegal, but she was still a teenager."

"What do we know about her?" JJ asked, starting to pick up on what Daisy was thinking. 

"A freshman. She came here from Michigan to go to school," Emily read the deceased woman's file, her nails tapping against the cardboard. "Foyet was a teacher's assistant in one of Amanda's courses."

"Michigan," Hotch repeated, his brows knitting together in deep thought. "Where the Reaper had Shaunessy post the personal ad."

"That can't be a coincidence," Daisy walked back over to the table, hovering behind him. Her good hand rested on the back of his seat for stability, and Hotch subconsciously tensed up a little. "He said she was the love of his life, that he was gonna propose. They couldn't have been together that long if she'd just arrived from Michigan."