1 | 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄 ⭃ Spencer Reid

17.1

"Three months ago, he raped five students at a small bible college. Roughly, an attack a week, then suddenly nothing," JJ explained. "Until nine days ago when he suddenly reappeared with a whole new victim pattern. His two newest victims are both in their thirties. They were raped about five days apart."

"Where have the new attacks taken place?" Gideon asked.

"Opposite ends of the city. He was waiting for them when they got home."

Caroline cleared her throat. "How do we know it's the same guy?"

"He leaves voice mails for them," JJ answered.

"Freezing them with fear before they even see him," Spencer mused. 

Gideon turned to JJ. "They don't recognize the voice?"

She shook her head. "No. Cops even have DNA, but it's not in the system."

"Why would someone attacking college students suddenly change victim preference?" Caroline asked with a frown. "Serial rapists hardly ever change victimology once it's established. It's usually based on a very specific fantasy." 

"Maybe he's telling these women that no one's safe," Elle muttered. She glanced over at her coworker. Her eyes were focused on her hands in her lap, picking at an invisible hangnail. A swift wave of worry passed over her. 

Before she could ask Elle what she meant, JJ was calling Morgan and Hotch. They had been cleared to leave for Dayton.

➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴

The BAU boarded the jet an hour before dawn. Caroline sat in her plush leather seat and rubbed her eyes warily as she stared out the window. The sun had risen a little over twenty minutes ago. IN her opinion, the view was worth the lack of sleep.

The yellow sun bloomed on the horizon, filling the sky with shades of orange and pink. She admired the peach sky with whispy amber clouds. It was the scenery that radiated hope. The start of a brand new day.

However, despite the soft rose light falling into the plane, the mood didn't lighten. She had forgotten what it felt like—to be on a case where the victims are still alive. It felt like everyone on the plane had a different mindset, wondering about different things. 

Beside her, Spencer was reading the case file for the fifth time. She rested her head against the seat and watched his eyes dart over the page, flicking so fast she could hardly keep up. She admired the small crease between his brows, the kind he only got when he was concentrating so hard his eyebrows were furrowed. The new glasses that he had started wearing recently were perched on the edge of his nose. He stared through them as an old librarian would, squinting and peering over the lens. A giggle escaped her lips.

He glanced over at her from the corner of his eye. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You laughed at nothing?"

"No, I laughed at you." She reached over and gently pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "You look like a grandma when you wear your glasses like that."

He shrugged as a slight pink dusted his cheeks. "It's comfortable."

"Okay." She turned in her chair and whispered, "Nerd."