[4.5]
"what are taxes"
"You know, you should really be wearing protective gear when you're on that thing."
"I've never gotten hurt on it," Florence said, shrugging.
"You're literally putting a bandaid on your knee right now," Garcia said, pointing at her left knee which had two pink bandages on it. "You ride your skateboard to work every day and half the time, you don't even remember to bring your helmet."
"Well, it's just a ten-minute ride on a straight and well-paved sidewalk. It's a perfectly safe trip."
"Says the one with the bleeding knee," Garcia said, sipping on her coffee.
Florence waved her off. "It's just a flesh wound."
"Did Spencer show you Monty Python and the Holy Grail?"
"Yup. It was really funny. He said he's gonna show me Life of Brian next."
There was a knock at their door and JJ stuck her head in. She had files in her hand, so they knew that there was a case. "Briefing room in thirty."
JJ handed them the files, but also two little envelopes. Garcia and Florence shared a look before tearing into them. They were invitations to a baby shower for JJ in two weeks. It was yellow because JJ and Will had decided to wait until the baby came to find out the sex of it. Of course, Florence knew that it was just so Will could put off paying her the twenty dollars.
"A baby shower invitation," Florence said while Garcia squealed in excitement. "No thanks, JJ. I can have a regular-sized shower at my apartment whenever I want."
JJ sighed and tried to hide her smile. "Ren, you're uninvited."
"Noooo," she whined. "I'm sorry. Please let me come and get your son his first Nerf gun.
Garcia rolled over and patted her on the shoulder. "Maybe stick to the registry, Sweetie."
"Actually," JJ said, chuckling, "Will would have a field day with a Nerf gun."
"Wait!" Florence said, jumping from her chair. "Brilliant idea! While you ladies are at the baby shower, I can round up the guys and we can have a Nerf fight. I mean, I'd be at a disadvantage because they're all certified to use actual guns, but still. It'll be a blast."
"I'm sure Prentiss could give you some tips."
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"Ok," JJ started once everyone had arrived at the briefing room. "Six victims have been killed in a series of burglar-homicides all over central California. In order Bakersfield, Fresno, Chico, and, two nights ago, Alan and Brenda Paisley in Sacramento."
"Big area. Are we sure it's the same unsub?" Rossi asked.
"His DNA was found in all the homes," JJ explained.
"They hadn't connected it becaUse he crossed jurisdictional lines," Hotch added. Florence noticed that that was often a problem. When it came to murder and what-not, she thought that jurisdiction shouldn't really come into play.
"The head of the Sacramento field office has established a multi-agency task force and he wants us to run point," JJ said.
Morgan flipped through the file. "Looks like we got a lot of investigators on this one."
"We'll streamline it if we need to," Hotch said.
"You should know that they've already named him the Highway 99 Killer," JJ warned them.
"That's not even a cool murder name," Florence mumbled under her breath. Garcia, though amused, nudged her under the table.
"We'll deal with that when we get there," Hotch muttered.
"He targets one to two-person households," JJ went on. "He kills the victims while they sleep."
"Blunt force trauma with objects found at the home," Reid noted, flipping through the file. "Multiple bashes to the head.
"After he kills the victims, he ransacks the homes for valuables."
"Which is not unusual for a nighttime burglary-homicide," Hotch said. "What's unique about this unsub is that after he kills them, apparently he sits down to dinner in their homes. They found his DNA all over the food and the table."
"Are these burglaries that turned into homicides or homicides that turned into burglaries?" Rossi questioned.
"Between the two offenses, it seems the primary motivation is homicide. Otherwise, he would have just stolen the items and fled," Morgan said.
"But he stays there for hours," JJ said, beginning to flip through crime scene pictures. "He eats their food, he tries on their clothes, he showers, he even sleeps in their beds."
"It's like Goldilocks became a serial killer," Prentiss added.
The Goldilocks Killer would be a better name than the Highway 99 Killer, Florence thought to herself. But she didn't share that with the group.
"They've got plenty of DNA, but they found no fingerprints."
"He doesn't take their cars. So, how does he get there?" Prentiss asked.
"No witness reports of strange cars on the street."
"No prints, no gun, no noise, no car, no witnesses," Rossi said. "This all adds up to prior experience."
"There's a record on him somewhere," Reid said.
"And until we find it, he's moved on to another town," Hotch said.
"Which could be anywhere," Prentiss added.
It seemed that tracking this guy down was going to be quite difficult.
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There was only so much that Garcia and Florence could do until the team found more information. They found all they could on the victims, which told them nothing new. They were all unconnected and in different locations. There was a four hundred mile radius, which made the geographical profile incredibly difficult. Rossi and Reid were able to deduce that the unsub was hopping from train to train to get around. Then he would stay in the victim's homes.
Eventually, the phone rang. Florence perked up as Garcia answered it, happy to have something to do.
"Go ahead, guys. We're listening," she said.
"Garcia, I need you and Florence to look into small farm towns all over central California. Track all unsolved homicides that involved nighttime burglaries in homes within a mile of train tracks."
"Oh, you think there's more?"
"I don't know," Reid admitted before letting them go.
"I mean, it's likely," Florence said, getting to work. "Especially since they're all so far apart."
It took some time to go through all the homicides — people in California seemed to have a habit of getting murdered. After going through all the evidence, they found three additional murders with the unsub's DNA on the scene. They immediately called JJ to let them know.
"Hey, Garcia," JJ greeted.
"Bad news alert," she told her.
"Hold on one second," Reid said. He called the others into the room to explain the situation. "I had Garcia look into all unsolved burglary homicides in central California, paying particular attention to small farm towns."
"We found his DNA in three more cities," Garcia said.
"How did I miss this?" Florence didn't recognize the voice, so it must have been one of the officers in California.
"Small towns don't always link their evidence up to state or national DNA databases," Reid explained to him.
"It can happen when unsubs cross jurisdictional lines," Hotch added.
"What are the cities, Garcia?" Prentiss asked.
"Tehachapi, Vacaville, and Orange Cove. All farm towns," Garcia said.
"And all supes far away from Highway 99," Florence added, unable to stop herself from adding the little dig at whoever named the guy.
Once Garcia hung up, they both started looking into each of the towns that the murders happened in. After some digging, Garcia noticed a pattern in crop sales — Florence hadn't picked up on it. Her only knowledge about farms was from playing Stardew Valley. Nevertheless, she got Reid on the phone.
"Hello?" he greeted.
"I've noticed in the cities — including the new ones we've discovered — there's a spike in the sales of certain crops during the time the unsub is there. Last week of August, apples in Tehachapi. First week of September, tomatoes in Bakersfield. Second week of September, fall squashes in Fresno."
"So he's in town for a big harvest," Prentiss stated.
"We have an unsub riding trains town to town during big harvests," Reid said. "Who doesn't have a car or permanent residence."
"Migrant farmworker," Prentiss realized.
Once they knew what to look into, Garcia and Florence were able to find records of workers that were in the same areas of the murders at the same time. It wasn't long before Garcia found exactly who they were looking for. The hard part would be tracking him down since he was homeless and wouldn't be staying in any of the nearby camps. They called Reid, who was with Hotch and Prentiss, to fill them in.
"Ok, mini-lesson," Garcia started. "Migrants travel and work in these groups and the groups are called cuadrillas. Now, I have found one such cuadrilla that was in Chico at the same time as our unsub. And then I checked and they were in Sacramento and Modesto And Vacaville at the same time as our unsub as well."
"What about the first town?" Reid asked.
"Florence got employment records from the apple farm in Tehachapi. This cuadrilla last worked there two days before Mildred Younce was killed. Now, here's the whammy. An Armando Salinas checked in with this group in Tehachapi. But then, he falls off the map. There's no sign of him in any of the camps."
"Interesting," Prentiss muttered.
"Double whammy. Customs and Immigration have a rap sheet on him for theft and assault. And he's wanted in connection to some burglaries."
"There's the record we've been looking for," Reid said.
"Triple whammy," Florence said, drumming on the desk. "His fingerprints were one of seventeen found at Mildred Younce's house."
"Get us his photo and get JJ to get it out to the media," Hotch ordered. "We're going to need the public's help."
"Sending you his mug," Garcia said. "The group that he's been following, they checked into Lockeford early this morning. That's not far from you."
Once they hung up and sent out his mug shot, Garcia and Florence settled in, waiting for the call that Salinas had been caught. It wouldn't be long, they figured, as countless officers were patrolling the train tracks and watching for him.
"Hey," Florence said while chewing on her Capri Sun straw. "Twenty bucks says Derek jumps on a moving train to catch him."
Garcia rolled her eyes. "No way am I making that bet. I one hundred percent think he's gonna do that."
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"So, what'd you end up getting JJ for the baby shower?" Prentiss asked. She had joined Garcia and Florence in their office for lunch once the case was all wrapped up.
"I got her the baby monitor on her registry," Garcia said. "Ren?"
"Oh, the Nerf Elite Titan CS-50 Blaster," she answered, licking Cheeto dust off her fingers. "But I also got some diapers. Like a ton of diapers. They aren't all the same size, but it'll grow into them, right?"
Prentiss chuckled. "Yes, they will grow into bigger sizes, and maybe don't call the baby an it." Florence then started to clean up her lunch and fix her bag. "Where are you headed?"
"Oh, Hotch said after lunch he would show me how to do my taxes since I never had a job before this one," she explained.
Garcia and Prentiss shared an amused look. "Please let us come and watch," Garcia said, grinning. "It sounds like a wonderful Hotch and Florence bonding moment that I don't wanna miss out on."
Florence shrugged and put her backpack on. "Sure, if you've got nothing better to do."
"Finished up all my paperwork for the last case this morning," Prentiss said, grabbing her drink. "Lead the way, Ren."
The trio made their way to the briefing room, where Hotch had his laptop set up and some papers sitting on the table. There were several forms he would have to explain to her. He glanced up and looked at Prentiss and Garcia, confused as to why they were there.
"Ignore us," Garcia said, taking a seat. "We're just observers."
"You won't even know we're here," Prentiss added, smirking. "Go on."
Hotch rolled his eyes but didn't make them leave. "Before we start, do you have any specific questions?"
"Uh, yeah, actually," she said. "What are taxes?"
Garcia and Prentiss snickered while Hotch sighed.
"I thought we weren't going to know you were here?" Florence asked, shooting an accusing glare at Garcia and Prentiss. Then she sighed. "Look, it's not like they gave me a class on how to be an adult once I aged out of the system and was put out on my own. In the two months between getting kicked out and getting this job, I lived off of money left behind by my parents. I will try my best to be the minimal amount of annoying during this, but I'm being deadly serious when I say I don't know what filing for taxes means."
The adults in the room were silent for a few moments. They did often forget that Florence didn't grow up with people who could teach her these things. It wasn't fair to make her feel bad about things like taxes, cooking, and not knowing how to drive. It still baffled them though that she could do some truly astounding things with a computer but not recite her social security number — she was working on it though. She could now recite the first four from memory.
"I'm not going to go into the full definition of taxes and why we pay them," Hotch told her. "I know you won't remember it. But you have to do it every year or you can go to jail."
"Oof, jail is no fun," Florence muttered. "Trust me."
Prentiss narrowed her eyes at her. "You've been to jail?"
"Yup—"
"Monopoly doesn't count," Hotch cut her off.
"Oh, then no."