❝ Some things scratch at the surface while others strike at your soul. ❞
𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 her whole life to catching the monsters in this world in hopes of fixing something that is broken inside of her.
Tha...
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" The ultimate choice for a man, in as much as he is given to transcend himself, is to create or destroy, to love or to hate. "
— Erich Fromm
➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴ ➴
17.2 ; WHAT YOU DO AFTER.
THE CALL CAME INTO the station later that night. Despite their best efforts, Lisa Blakely of 1458 Grinichfield Avenue was now the unsub's newest victim.
Caroline stared at the small, one-story home that sat smack dab in the middle of a quiet suburban neighborhood. Gathering behind the yellow caution tape blocking off the property were the neighbors, the men still dressed in their robes and the women with their hair in curlers. They whispered to each other as the paramedics carried Ms. Blakely out of her front door on a stretcher.
Her left arm laid across her stomach, her hand gripping a fistful of her nightgown. She didn't look around as she was wheeled to the ambulance in the driveway, still flashing it's blue and red lights. She had fixed her gaze straight ahead, her mouth set in a thin, pursed line. She couldn't blame her. It was bad enough to be violated, but to be ogled at right after? It was no wonder why she hadn't spoken more than five words since the police arrived.
Following closely behind Ms. Blakely was Detective Callahan. Once she spotted Caroline and part of her team standing in the yard, she made a b-line straight to them.
"There was no forced entry," she said immediately once she approached them. "We're still not sure how he got in."
Derek frowned as his eyes scanned over the house in front of him. "M.O.'s the same?"
The detective shook her head. "No."
"I'm going to take a look inside," Hotch informed them as he started to trek across the front yard. Derek echoed his plans before following him, leaving her and the detective standing in the yard.
"What the hell are your men doing?"
Caroline whipped her head and saw Elle walking—no, marching—up to them. Her face was twisted and red. She could almost see the steam coming out of her ears.
Detective Callahan blinked, clearly taken aback by Elle's outburst. "Excuse me?"
"Well, you can have men outside the door, but still have a woman get raped inside!"
"Elle," Caroline said slowly, using her name as a warning.
"They knocked," Detective Callahan said. "There was no answer, there was no legal cause to enter."
