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Reid walked into the LAPD, still in his pajamas, with his hair mussed. He looked around, and found the sheriff almost instantly.

"Sheriff Kensington?" he asked.

"Yeah?" the older man asked, coming over to Reid. "Hiw can I help you?" He flashed his badge.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid from the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. We're here for the case you called us in on?" Kensington looked at him strangely.

"You sure don't look like you're in the FBI." Spencer's brow furrowed.

"Pardon me, sir, but it is five AM the day after Christmas. I got on a plane an hour ago." he said with an edge to his voice. In his defense, he was exhausted.

"Sorry, man. If you want to clean yourself up, you can use my bathroom." Spencer smiled half heartedly.

"Thank you, but I'm just here to set up until the rest of my team gets here." the Cheif's brow furrowed.

"They're not with you?"

"I was closer. My mom lives in Vegas and the rest of them are in Virginia."

"So, what do you need?"

"A couple of cork boards, a see through whiteboard, a round table with six chairs, and a good coffee machine." the cop grinned, handing Reid a full cup of coffee.

"Here you go! And we have something better than coffee, we have an espresso machine!" Reid smiled back awkwardly, accepting the cup.

"Can I just move here?" the cop chuckled.

"Like coffee, do yeh?"

"You have no idea." he said, taking a sip of the hot liquid. "Now, if you wouldn't mind briefing me a bit? I don't know the whole story." the officer cleared his throat

"We've found three families dead in an hour; All of them dark haired, Caucasian, and shot to death. No sign of forced entry." he said. Suddenly, Spencer's favorite people stepped into the room.

"Sheriff Kensington? Aaron Hotchner, FBI." Hotch shook the detective's hand. "These are SSA's Blake, Rossi, Jareau, Morgan, and you've already met the good doctor. We were briefed on the plane. Reid, I want you to go to Stacy Jackson, victim number six's autopsy. see if you can find anything. the rest of us are splitting into teams to head to the crime scene." Spencer nodded.

"Where's the morgue?"

"Just down the street, at the hospital. I'll call ahead, and it's not a far walk."

"Alright." Spencer said, thinking back to the map of Los Angeles that he had studied. his phone buzzed in his pocket. he quickly accepted the call.

"What is it? I just left."

"Bro, Garcia and I have been talking, and what if Pre isn't part of her name? What if it stands for her name?"

"You mean, like an acronym?" he asked.

"Exactly."

"That would make sense. More secrecy, throws people off her scent. Have Garcia cross that with red headed women that match my original profile."

"Alright, I will. Be safe, kid." Spencer ended the call, arriving at the morgue. A small brunette woman sat at the reception desk.

"FBI?" she asked. Reid nodded. "Autopsy room is the first door on the left. Doctor Kleinow is in there with another body." she gestured down the hallway. Reid nodded in thanks, walking as quickly as he could to the autopsy rom. He opened the scarily white door, and yanked it open. A tall, caramel haired woman with green eyes was standing next to the corpse of a six year old girl. She was scribbling on her clipboard as Reid came in.

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