Philophobia

Two; Rich Girl

April 29th, 2010
10:46 am
128 Lafayette Circle
Washington D.C.

"Christ!" Eliza shouted, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. She placed her hands on her knees attempting to catch her breath. "When you said your team didn't let you drive, I thought it was because you were too cautious, not a fucking mad man!"

"You said you were nervous to drive in the States!" Reid argued, he felt at ease with her.

"Because that made my nerves ANY better!" She looked him in the eyes across the hood of the car before rolling then and making her way towards the taped-off crime scene. Hotch was there waiting for the two of them, ignoring the chatter of the detective next to him. Upon seeing Reid and Eliza, he walked away from the detective and down the steps towards them.

"Hello. I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner. You must be Elizabeth Doyle," he said extending his hand to her.

"Yes! Please, call me Eliza. As I've told Spencer, I hate formalities." She reached out and shook his hand. "What can you tell me about the shootings?"

"Right. Security footage shows two shooters. They entered the house at 5:34 this morning, went straight to the second floor towards the bedrooms. Killed the four bodyguards who got in their way. They entered a bedroom on the left, sources tell us it was the bedroom of the former ambassador," Hotch relayed the information to the agent.

"So they went into the house with a plan," Reid said puzzled. "They must not have known that the Ambassador and his family weren't due to arrive until the next day." The trio moved into the home, heading towards the upstairs. They arrived in the bedroom, filled to the brim with police officers. The bodies had yet to be removed, and the room smelled slightly of decay. The windows had been cracked open to dilute the smell but it wasn't quite working. Eliza, Hotch, and Reid exchanged a look as they walked into the room, the cops pushing by them to vacate the room in fear of the FBI presence. Simply put, this was not the room of a former ambassador. The walls were adorned with an intricate pink wallpaper, the bedspread matching.

"Has anyone had contact with the Ambassador?" Eliza asked quietly.

"We have a team member trying to now," Hotch replied. 

"Right. I've got to make a call." Eliza took a moment, then exited the room rather quickly. Reid looked at Hotch, then towards space, Eliza once occupied, and finally back towards Hotch. 

"I have no idea," Hotch replied to the unanswered question. A few minutes later, Eliza returned to the bedroom, cell phone in hand.

"Pearce will be at the house soon," she reported, "but something tells me that this isn't about him."

"I'm not disagreeing with you, but why mask who the attacks were intended for?" Hotch asked.

"Pearce has a daughter. If the attackers were attempting the inflict maximum damage, they would go after her. Pearce doesn't suffer if he's killed," Reid chimed in.

"Seems as though we should talk to Pearce," Hotch said grimly.

April 29th, 2010
11:30 am
128 Lafayette Circle
Washington D.C.

Hotch and Eliza were writing in their notes, Reid talking to some first responders when they heard the car door slam followed by yelling.

"No! You listen here! I am a very powerful man, this is my home! For you to not let me in is a felony, not to mention disrespectful! I'll sue you! I'll fucking sue you, you piece of shit!" The three turned their heads, triggered by a flight or fight response. They ran outside to see a stocky man with a clean-shaven face, blue eyes and dark brown hair sticking out from under his cap. He was still furious, his face was bright red as the woman next to him placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.