Falling in Reverse (A Criminal Minds Story)

IV

NOW

   "This is Jake Ivanson, aged twenty." Says JJ once we're on the plane. Being back on the jet makes me miss Reid. I stare at the seats we once sat in, thinking of a better time in my life. A time when Reid was in it. "He along with three other college students, all the same age, same gender, was taken from a party two days ago. He was found in a hotel room anonymously taken out just three hours before he was murdered. Room service was called right after he was killed and found him on the bed. His throat was slashed and he had severe rope burns." I am barely paying attention as I turn my head back to the screen to look at the gruesome photo.
    "Wait, I'm sorry," I say, blinking. "Why exactly am I here? I thought I was supposed to get Spencer back or something." Hotch turns to me and I'm surprised he's not more annoyed by my interrupting.
    "Well, without Reid here, we need a temporary - or permanent - replacement. We were killing two birds with one stone," He says simply, giving a nod to JJ to continue.
    "Right, okay. Next day, Tyrone Quincy, aged twenty, was found the same way in a different room. Everything was virtually the same, but he was found the next day."
    "Same time?" Asks Rossi, scratching his beard.
    "What are the names of the rooms?" I ask, and everyone turns to me. "What, I'm supposed to be Reid now, right? I'm just asking questions that he would ask." There's a little moment of laughter.
    "The rooms are named after celebrities who stay at them during Coachella," JJ explains. "The first room, the one the victim originally checked into was the room named after Katy Perry. However, the room he was found in was the room named after Travis Scott." I blink.
    "That's kind of the worst thing I've ever heard," Emily says with a laugh.
    "What about the other victim?" Morgan asks, ignoring Emily like almost everybody else.
    "Stayed in the room named after Demi Lovato, was found in the Vanessa Hudgens room." I nod, stifling a laugh. Emily is right; the names are kind of ridiculous.
    "They have a room named after Vanessa Hudgens?" Garcia says, her somewhat sad voice coming through the screen.
    "Yeah, I wouldn't want to stay in there after what happened." Morgan says, and I nod in agreement.
    "Okay, everyone, we land in fifteen. When we get there, Morgan and Miller, go investigate the rooms and check the security tapes. I want to see who we're dealing with here. Prentiss and Dave, you two go talk to the manager and anyone who was working at the time and the people who found the victims as well as the friends. JJ and I will go down to the police department and go see if they have any leads." We all nod as Hotch gives us our instructions.
    "You ready to work with me again, Miller?" Morgan asks as we step off the plane. I smile.
    "Damn right." I expected Morgan to be much more angry with me than he is - Spencer is his best friend after all, and despite the fact that Morgan and I are friends, I know his friendship with Spencer is much more important than ours, even if he won't admit it to my face.
    "Have you ever been to Coachella?" He asks, grabbing the keys to a black SUV from Rossi. I shake my head.
    "Do I seem like the type of person to go to Coachella?" I respond, and he laughs.
    "No, I guess not. So, tell me what you've been up to while you took a three year hiatus from us." Do I hear a twinge of bitterness in his voice? Has it always been there? Have I not noticed? Maybe I'm not as ready for this job as I think.
    "Well, nothing short of nothing," I say casually as if I didn't hear him. "Just a little of everything." It's quiet for a second. "You can yell at me."
    "What?" He asks, as if he didn't expect this.
    "You can yell at me," I repeat. "I got it from Emily, I can take it from you." He blinks, looking confused.
    "You want me to yell at you?" He asks, more confused than ever.
    "No. I mean, yeah. Only if you want to. I get it." I say. He shakes his head.
    "You've changed, Andy." I look at him as we get closer to the hotel, the long desert plains of California outstretched in all directions. I don't say anything.
    The hotel is much larger and crazier than any hotel I've seen in awhile. It's bustling with people despite the fact there are two people dead and two others missing. Most of the people wear bathing suits or almost no clothes at all, ignoring Morgan and I as we walk in through the front doors.
    The cool air blows through my hair when we walk in as the temperature drops at least twenty degrees. The lobby is quite large with lots of lounge areas, elevators, grand staircases and a large reception area as well as a hallway leading to a bar and pool. I watch Morgan stare at some of the half naked ladies who smile and wink at him and swat him on the arm, reminding him what we're here to do.
    We walk over to reception as I reach for my credentials, happy to have them back. A woman approaches us and shakes our hands.
    "Hi, I'm Jenny Whitfield. I'm in charge around here." I whip out my credentials.
    "I'm Agent Morgan, this is Dr. Miller." It feels great to hear someone call me Doctor again, but it reminds me of Spencer. Everyone reminds me of Spencer these days.
    "We were wondering if we could take a look at the crime scene." Morgan says, keeping his voice low, eyeing the people nearby. Whitfield nods curtly.
    "We closed off the two floors where the murders took place," She says, leading us quickly to a service elevator.
    "Were these rooms known for anything? Did they hold any value to the hotel or anyone who works here?" I ask, almost running to keep up. She shakes her head.
    "Not that I know of. I kind of keep tabs on everyone, it's my job. Everyone knows me, I know everyone." She says. She can't be more than twenty five with long raven hair and hazel eyes. She's pretty and tan with lots of freckles.
    "Have you hired any new employees in the past six months or so?" Whitfield shakes her head again.
    "What about traumatic experiences?" I add. "Anyone who has been acting weird, maybe a death in someone's family. Anyone acting suspicious or strange." Whitfield shakes her head.
    "No. Everyone's normal." The elevator ride is quick and we walk through the hallway crawling with policemen. She stops suddenly. "Here it is." We give her a fast nod as a thank you and walk in. The crime scene is riddled with police officers.
    The once white bed is soaked in blood, now a deep red color. I cringe, wondering what it was like for the poor person who came to deliver the food and found this instead. I forgot how incredibly horrifying some of these cases could be - I want to throw up, or cry, but I take a deep breath, swallow and calm my nerves. I look around the room.
    "You okay?" Morgan asks, clearly noticing how disturbed I look.
    "Yeah," I say quickly. "Yeah, I'm great. I'm fine." Morgan gives me an understanding nod. I pull out my phone. "I'm going to call Garcia." I announce, turning around, unable to stand the sight of what we're looking at anymore. Morgan nods.
    "You've reached Garcia, how may I help you on this fine, fine morning?" I give a small smile.
    "Garcia, I need a favor."
    "Anything, Princess."
    "Can you run background checks on everyone who has worked at the hotel in the last year or so?"
    "You got it," She responds quickly.
    "Okay. Call me back if you find anything weird." I hang up, returning back to Morgan who stands at the window.
    "Who reserved this hotel room?" He asks Whitfield, who shrugs.
    "I was on my break that night. We were all really busy since there was this big party. Lots of people checked in, and the name was John Smith." She says.
    "Odds are the guy's name wasn't John Smith," I say, sighing. "Don't you guys have security tapes?"
    "Yeah, but they were wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. I think it was a man, though." I look around the room one more time and spot a vase on a side table.
Roses.