CASSIDY
For some reason, this case was difficult. We were dealing with an unsub that stalked their victims for 2 weeks before finally killing them.
We assumed that they were stalking them to do surveillance; see when the best time and place would be to kill them, but after further investigation, we figured out that there was no indication that the unsub had done any surveillance. There weren't any cameras or other tech that could unknowingly record. There weren't any strange sightings by neighbours. There was no indication of any suspicious behaviour.
"So, this unsub isn't stalking their victims for surveillance?" Matt asked as Tara sat down at the conference room table, exhaling.
"Nope. It seems that the unsub was just stalking their victims. When the police found the first set of bodies, they were all strewn around the house, like the whole murder wasn't planned. There was no strategy. The front door was the only door tampered with. Every person was killed differently." Emily started.
"The mother was strangled. The father was smothered. The oldest son was bashed with his own baseball bat. The youngest son was bashed over the head before being pushed down the stairs. And the daughter, she was found with her head in the bathtub, having been drowned." JJ shook her head.
"This unsub is a family annihilator and a stalker?" Derek asked, confused.
"No. The unsub has only killed 1 family. The rest of his victims have been couples. He's mainly a stalker." I explained.
After another 30 minutes of talking, we decided to take a much needed break. We wouldn't be on break for very long. Just long enough to eat, drink and restore lost energy.
Spencer and I walked to a nearby cafe, both of us feeling hungry for some baked goods. As we walked, I suddenly felt uneasy. I wasn't feeling nauseous from my pregnancy. It was more of a feeling like someone was watching us, or more specifically, me.
I had experienced this feeling before. Working for the FBI basically meant that sometimes criminals wanted revenge, and sometimes they'd act on that urge. I called it paranoia. There were days that I was paranoid, thinking that someone was following me with the intention of killing me.
But this time, it was different. It felt like someone was following me, but not with the intention of harming me. It had really started before we got on the jet, but the feeling only intensified as we headed to the cafe.
"Cassie, are you alright?" Spencer snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking." I nodded my head, trying to ignore the feeling of somebody watching me.
"What's wrong?" He asked, seeing right through my white-lie.
"I had the sudden feeling like someone was watching me. Not in the 'I intend to kill you' kinda way. More like the 'I'm investigating you' kinda way. I know I sound crazy." I exhaled.
"No. You don't sound crazy. If you think someone is following you, we can let Emily know. She'll know what to do." Spencer held my hand, supporting me. At this time, I was certainly glad that he was not only my best friend, but my husband as well.
"Thank you. We should probably head back to the station." I noted, exhaling.
"Yeah. I think you'll feel more at ease with our team and the cops around." Spencer smiled, holding my hand as we paid for our food before we started heading back.
"I feel stupid. I'm an FBI Agent who deals with the worst of the worst criminals, and yet, I'm worried about the possibility of someone watching me." I rolled my eyes.
"You're not stupid, Cassidy. I think it's just your motherly instinct. Now that you're pregnant, you're in 'mama bear' mode, for lack of a better term." Spencer smiled, placing a kiss on my forehead.
———
(At The Station)
As Spencer suggested, the moment we got back to the station, I told Emily about my feeling. She understood and contacted Penelope, hoping that if someone was really watching me, maybe Penelope could figure out who and why. We all knew that Penelope was a mastermind, so hopefully the case plus this extra bit of work wouldn't be to difficult for her. All I hoped for was the possibility that my feeling wasn't true.