Unknown- A Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 7- 'Attractive G-Men'

The next two days were, for the most part, fairly uneventful.  No child molesters or horrific mutilations but a minor child abduction in which a sixteen-year-old decided to take a cross-country road trip with her father who she hadn't seen in seven years, but eventually she convinced her father to surrender, so no one was hurt.

We got back late that night--well, technically one the next morning--but I had slept on the plane so I wasn't too tired and once again I discovered I had an email that had been sent around four that afternoon, from the same unknown sender.

You left me again.  I was looking forward to meeting you soon, but it will have to wait.  Enjoy it.

Okay, this didn't seem like a prank anymore.  I added the email to the file with the other two and started generating a profile in my head.  Three sentences each, one had a question, but the wording was very straightforward.  Most likely male, since two of the three used the word 'I' and men are more likely to focus on themselves rather than their victims...was that what I was?  A victim?

I scoffed at the ridiculousness of it.  I wasn't a victim, I knew how these guys worked and I knew how to catch them in the act.  I could just see if Garcia could trace the emails. 

Actually, on second thought, probably not.  Garcia worried too much, and aside from being a tech goddess, she was the BAU's gossip queen.  I didn't need the rest of the team to know that I may or may not be getting pranked by a creep, so the best bet for now would be to get a new email account.

It was almost three in the morning before I finished setting up a new email account for all of my bills and services, which left me with four hours of sleep before work tomorrow, but hey, I'd functioned fine on less, and that wasn't taking into account the two hour plane ride.  Maybe there was an advantage to being 'fresh out of college' as Morgan had put it.

The next day was a rare break from flying across the country to solve strings of murders in other states because we instead consulted on a possible serial case in Chicago that resembled a string of retaliatory gang murders more than the work of a serial killer, and Rossi and Prentiss took a trip to interview a murderer they had caught a few years ago that was being held in a federal prison in New York.  And, upon Garcia's request, they brought back New York style cheesecake for all of us which was heaven after the vending machine or fast food we'd had the past few days because we'd been working on cases.

We were only a little late getting out of there, and when I got home I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies for Mrs. Mulcahy--she had done my laundry once again even though I had been planning to leave it until we got back--and spent the evening visiting with her and her five cats.

She was essentially a crazy cat lady but like any grandmother--even though she wasn't technically a grandma, she'd never had kids--she wanted to know all about my new job and if there were any "attractive G-men" that I worked with.  To which the answer, much to her disappointment, was no because my only options were Reid and Morgan, of which neither was all that appealing.  Besides, I'd seen what fraternization among coworkers could do for you back at Richmond PD and I had no interest in getting fired cause I made out with one of them in a police car.  Even the thought made me shudder in disgust and I regretted even calling the image to mind, so once I refused to talk more on the subject, we turned to discussing her favorite soap operas which was entertaining to say the least even though I didn't like soap operas.

Good to know that my only friend after having been here more than a month was an old lady, but hey, it was better than nothing.  And Mrs. Mulcahy was too nice to diss on, even if she was also insinuating I had a love life like all of the team was.

By seven I was back across the hall in my own apartment however because Mrs. Mulcahy, being an eighty-year-old lady, had a strict bedtime of eight o'clock that I wasn't about to interfere with.  I cleaned up the kitchen, took a shower, and finished a book but before I turned on the TV to see if there was anything worth watching I checked my new email to make sure I had everything set up right, but there was no mysterious email from an 'Unknown' address.  I wondered if the guy sending me those emails would know that I had closed that account out, and if that would be enough to make him leave me alone.  Hopefully so, curiosity can only keep me interested to a certain point.

The next day we were called in early for a case and on the plane by seven thirty.  We had a nine and a half hour flight to Anchorage, so we had plenty of time on the plane for Garcia to brief us, which she did in person rather than via video call.  Since we were going to a small town in the middle of the wilderness in Alaska, we'd need Garcia to set up a satellite system in order to get into the FBI database, there was no way she could do it all the way from DC.

"Wow, you guys get to fly on this every time we have a case?" Garcia exclaimed as she boarded, dragging an embroidered pink suitcase--her's--and a heavy duty black bag--the FBI's--behind her.

"Trust me, after the first few times, it loses it's glamour," Rossi remarked.  I had to agree with him, and I hadn't even been in the BAU for a year much less a lifetime like Rossi had.  Not that they would've had a private jet when they started out, but still.

Once we were all settled, Garcia started going through the victims on the screen where her face usually was and we followed along on our tablets.

Three people had been murdered over the past two weeks.  The first a fifty-four-year-old Caucasian fisherman who had lived there all his life, the second a twenty-something African-American girl who had just moved there for a new job, and the third a thirty-seven-year-old Native American female first mate on a crab boat, all stabbed with an arrow.  An unusual M.O., even considering the off-the-grid nature of the town, and he crossed race, age, and gender lines, which means so far there was no common factor linking the three except for where they lived. 

Finding a suspect wouldn't be as easy as expected in such a small town, especially considering nearly all of them had grown up learning how to hunt and fish, which meant we weren't profiling a person, we were profiling a town.