Premeditated Chapter 12
On Wednesday, at home, Reid cleaned up the mess on the kitchen floor. He picked up the tablets, the gin bottle, and the coffee pot, and dumped them together into a small black garbage bag. Thinking twice, he retrieved the gin bottle and the coffee pot, leaving only the tablets at the bottom of the bag. He washed out the bottle and the pot and placed them on the dishrack to dry. He didn't throw away the pot, because he needed it to make coffee in the morning, and he didn't throw away the bottle, because he liked it.
With only the tablets inside, the garbage bag looked wrong and felt wrong. Without being empty, it looked empty and felt empty. It appeared to be something that it was not. Reid didn't like things appearing to be other than what they were. He took action.
Shaking the bag, he maneuvered the tablets into one corner. He pulled the bag taut over a mortar and pestle and slid the tablets down the plastic into the mortar. Using the pestle, he crushed the tablets into irregular pieces and ground the pieces into a fine powder. It took him ten minutes to do it, and the repetitive activity, which would normally have bored him out of his mind, was relaxing after the excitement of the past few days.
Once the tablets had been pulverized into powder, it was time for dissolution and disposal. Reid transferred the powder to a tupperware container. In another tupperware container, he heated water in the microwave. Spoonful by spoonful, he added boiling water to the powder and stirred the suspension until the powder dissolved. For the briefest fraction of a second, he considered drinking the solution, but the thought passed as quickly as it had come, leaving no evidence in his mind that it had ever existed. Unbeknownst to himself, his memory was imperfect when he wanted it to be so.
With a touch of reluctance, Reid poured the solution down the drain. It flowed away with the same bittersweet flavor that would have been its taste had he drunk it. In solution, medication went in tasteless, went down bitter, and came up sweet. Even though he had not drunk it, the solution left an aftertaste on his tongue. The aftertaste, intense but welcome, calmed the storm behind his eyes. For the first time in a week, Reid felt like himself. He didn't feel like the person who had killed six people, and had tried and failed to kill a seventh, in the past seven days. That person could not go on living. How could he live with himself, knowing the depths to which he had sunk? How could he live with himself, not knowing the depths to which he had yet to sink? Reid could think of only one way. He could sink further still. He could choose to sink further still. Having sunk to such a depth, would it be such a big deal for him to sink further still?
Reid felt like himself, so he didn't feel like that person. He felt like the person who could go on living, because his only purpose in life was to understand why he had done it all. After he understood, he could inform others, passing on the knowledge to criminals and criminal investigators alike. Criminals could use the knowledge to stop themselves. Criminal investigators could use the knowledge to stop the criminals who could not stop themselves. Behind the practicality of helping others, Reid recognized the practicality of helping himself. After he understood, he could use the knowledge to stop himself. That would be a triumph, a personal one, greater than anything else he could possibly achieve. Behind all the practicalities, Reid recognized a singular idealism. He was a romantic. He wanted to understand for the sake of understanding. He imagined a day on which he would wake up and know the answer to the question that had no answer. He didn't know whether the day would come to him, or whether he would have to bring the day about. All he knew was that he was no longer satisfied with answering the question that had no answer. Now, he wanted to know the answer.
How had it come to this? He didn't know, but he meant to find out, any way he could.
On Thursday, at home, Reid ate an entire bag of tortilla chips and an entire jar of salsa while watching football. It was the first time that he had watched football since the Superbowl party several years ago and the second time that he had watched football since the Redskins game even more years ago. This time, he watched it in the way that he had always wanted to watch it, as an intricate chess/war game in which the coaches of the opposing teams moved their players around the field in an infinitude of plays that branched out from the game plan into a tree whose individual branches led to success or failure, the ultimate success or failure of winning or losing the game being a linear combination of all the branches that the coaches traversed during the game. Reid believed that weaker teams could beat stronger teams if only the coaches were smart enough to design the right plays. He didn't care about the players who executed the plays. When designing the plays, as long as the coaches took into account the heights, weights, girths, limb lengths, and all other biometrics of all the players on both teams, then there was no reason why the players couldn't execute the plays. This way, winning or losing was determined by the plays rather than the players.
Sitting on the couch in front of the TV, Reid developed a set of equations that he converted into algorithms for designing and implementing plays in a simulation that was far more sophisticated, powerful, and all-encompassing than Madden NFL. He typed up the results, both the mathematical analysis and the computational algorithm that Garcia could follow to code the program in a language of her own choosing. The intellectual exercise, more engaging than any of the games, occupied the entire day. At the end of the day, Reid was disappointed that the Patriots had predictably beaten the Lions and the Saints had predictably beaten the Cowboys and the Jets had predictably beaten the Bengals. By then, he had designed all the right plays, but he had not been able to transmit them through the TV screen for implementation upon the field.
On Friday, at home, Reid wrote an account of the case. He entitled the paper "The Fisher-Hunter". In it, he presented the chain of reasoning that had led him to the victimology, profile, and story. He devoted a special case study to the final murder, detailing how the UnSub had killed the object of his affection, explaining the psychological state of the UnSub before, during, and after the murder, and posing the question of whether the murder could have been avoided. Could the UnSub have avoided killing the object of his affection? Here was a question to which he knew the answer, but in the paper, he left the question unanswered.
On Saturday, at home, Reid nearly gave in to an impulse to confess his sins. The impulse came upon him as he was brushing his teeth in the morning. He spit out the toothpaste, ran into the bedroom to pick up his cell phone, and nearly called Hotch, then Morgan. His finger was on the dial button when he remembered that Hotch had probably taken Jack to go sledding in the snow. His finger was again on the dial button when he remembered that Morgan had probably flown off to Chicago to visit his mother and sisters. He had no choice but to take his finger off the dial button, put down his cell phone, and run back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.
In the bathroom, he told himself that he didn't want to disturb Hotch and Morgan during the weekend. In the mirror, his face told him that he was afraid to confess his sins. What if they didn't believe his confessions? What if they misinterpreted his confessions as hallucinations? Hallucinations were a sign of psychosis. All these years, ever since they had found out about the potential, his colleagues had been waiting for the psychosis to rear its ugly head. Every year that the psychosis did not manifest itself was a year closer to the time when it would. Was that why Hotch didn't let him go on raids anymore? It didn't seem right that he got to go on more raids in his second year than in his sixth year in the BAU. Did Hotch think that he was becoming increasingly unstable? Had Hotch lied to him? Maybe Hotch wasn't trying to keep him safe from others. Maybe Hotch was trying to keep others safe from him. Clearly, he was a danger to others. He knew that. That was what he wanted to confess, but he was afraid to confess it, because he was afraid that his colleagues, instead of believing that he was dangerous because he was a murderer, would believe that he was dangerous because he was crazy. The distinction was important to him. He didn't want people to think that he was crazy. He didn't want Hotch to pressure him, maybe even force him, into getting a psychiatric evaluation. What if Hotch banned him from doing his job until he got a psychiatric evaluation? He admitted that he was afraid to get a psychiatric evaluation. He was afraid, because, while he was still certain that he would pass, he was no longer certain that he would pass with flying colors. Once again, the distinction was important to him.
Besides Hotch and Morgan, there was one other person to whom Reid would have liked to confess his sins. In an ideal world, Reid would have liked to confess his sins to JJ. In the real world, he knew that such an event, if it ever occurred, could only occur on the same day on which he finally understood why he had done it all. For the time being, he made do by writing another account of the case. Again, he entitled the paper "The Fisher-Hunter", but this time, he told the truth and left no question unanswered.
On Sunday, at home, Reid watched football to pass the time. He was becoming quite a fan, but not of the Redskins.
On Monday, at work, Reid formulated a plan for the rest of his life. From now on, he would kill people in fantasy rather than in reality. Whenever he got bored, especially when he got bored at work, he would think about killing people - the specific types of people that he wanted to kill (victomology), the specific methods that he wanted to use (M.O.), the specific reasons, both intellectual and emotional, why he wanted to kill the people that he wanted to kill, use the methods that he wanted to use, or both (motive), and the specific psychology behind his aberrant thoughts, feelings, and non-behaviors (profile). In fantasy, he would kill as many people as he wanted to kill. In reality, he would kill no one, not even himself.
Through the process, he would come up with a variety of profiles, known and unknown. The unknown ones, like "The Fisher-Hunter" and "The Fallen Angel", would add to his knowledge of the field. The known ones, like "The Novice Killer", would give him new takes on old ideas. Previously, he had come up with profiles as a profiler. Now, he would come up with profiles as a killer. The change in perspective made all the difference in the world. On one level, it was like the philosopher emerging from Plato's Cave to see reality for what it was rather than as projections upon the wall. On another level, it was like the psychiatrist descending into psychopathy to know what it was like to be the mind that he studied.
With the master plan in place, Reid formulated a plan for the current case. For the current case, he had chosen the case to match the profile. This particular case screening method had both advantages and disadvantages. The advantage was that he knew the profile. The disadvantage was that no one could know that he knew. Last Wednesday, Hotch had lectured him about teamwork. If he were to present the appearance that he had taken the lecture to heart, then he couldn't very well spoonfeed the profile to his colleagues this time as he had done last time. For this case, no matter how painful it was or became, he would have to play dumb.
In the Round Table Room, before he began the case briefing, Reid reviewed the tenets of playing dumb. He had never considered them before, but now that he had, he realized, in his brilliance, that the tenets of playing dumb were almost identical to the tenets of teamwork. He could achieve both ends with the same means. In idiomatic form, that was called "killing two birds with one stone".
"In the past two weeks, five bodies have been recovered from the Niagara River downstream of Niagara Falls," Reid began the case briefing. "In each case..." he stopped abruptly, clearing his throat to disguise the stoppage.
Standing at the front of the room, he waited for a response from his colleagues before continuing. He bit his lip to shut himself up. Here he was, only five seconds into the case briefing, and he had almost bungled the plan. In the momentary silence, he reviewed the tenets again. Tenet Number 1: Be Slow.
"Niagara Falls?" Morgan broke the silence. "Downstream?" he glanced sideways at Rossi sitting beside him.
"Were these the people who decided that it was a good idea to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel?" Rossi asked.
"Tasteless!" Prentiss wrinkled her nose at Rossi.
"Don't shoot the messenger," Rossi defended himself. "It's not my fault that people do this to themselves. Going over Niagara Falls in a barrel is a well-known stunt, like jumping over the Grand Canyon on a motorcycle. In the old days, the homemade barrel-like contraption was the vehicle of choice, but now, people are getting dumb and dumber, trying to go over in kayaks, jet skis, and nothing."
"Do they die?" Garcia asked, curiosity overruling squeamishness at the exciting prospect.
"50-50," Rossi replied. "So far, about half of the barrel rollers have survived. The kayak guy didn't make it, and neither did the jet ski guy. The guy who jumped over Horseshoe Falls without a flotation device actually survived with only a few cuts and bruises. He wasn't the only one who survived a suicide plunge."
"How do you know so much about this subject?" Prentiss asked.
"I've got friends in upstate New York," Rossi said. "Used to go fishing and hunting up there before I came back here. Had to talk about something while waiting for the fish to bite."
"Ah, the good life of Sir David Rossi before his evil stepmother forced him to rejoin the BAU," Garcia commented.
"Evil stepmother? Isn't she more of an evil stepsister?" Prentiss frowned, considering the issue with the gravitas that it warranted. "Unless we're talking about someone other than Section Chief Erin Strauss?"
"Shut it, Rossi," Morgan warned. "You don't want to set Reid off on another discussion of fishing and hunting. I don't want to hear about the predator-prey simulation again."
"How about we focus on the case?" Hotch interrupted the post-holiday merrymaking. "Reid?" he prompted Reid to continue.
Reid nodded, happy for the interruption to continue. Continuing with the case briefing would take his mind off all the information that he wanted to share about people plunging over waterfalls, both those at Niagara Falls and those at other waterfall hotspots such as Yosemite National Park. He wanted to do a kinematic analysis of the possible plunges, calculating the duration of free-fall, impact velocity, and horizontal displacement for a human body, hammer, and feather without neglecting air resistance. In the realm of waterfalls, Niagara Falls was nice, but Reid preferred tall narrow waterfalls shaped like ponytails. His favorite waterfall was Yosemite Falls, not only because they were tall, narrow, and shaped like ponytails, but also because there were many of them to plunge over and down. Someone who plunged over Upper Yosemite Falls plunged down the Middle Cascades, a series of small waterfalls invisible from Yosemite Valley, before plunging over Lower Yosemite Falls. Compared to the one-shot plunge over Niagara Falls, the sequential plunges over Yosemite Falls entranced Reid with their order and multiplicity. If he were to plunge himself or someone else over a waterfall, Yosemite Falls would be his waterfall of choice. However, there was an important distinction between the two scenarios. If he plunged himself over Yosemite Falls, then he would only get to experience the drop from Upper Yosemite Falls to the Middle Cascades. The drop of 1,400 feet would surely kill him before he got to plunge down the Middle Cascades. If he plunged someone else over Yosemite Falls, then he would get to experience the entire drop. Like himself, someone else would die when he or she hit the water at the bottom of Upper Yosemite Falls, but if he found a suitable vantage point at the top of the trail, then Reid would get to watch as the body plunged down the 700 feet of the Middle Cascades, then over the 300 feet of Lower Yosemite Falls before being sucked down into a deep turbulent whirlpool from which recovery was nearly impossible. At the moment, if he had to choose between the two scenarios, Reid thought that he would choose the latter. In fantasy, he would choose the latter, but in reality, according to the master plan, he would choose neither. In this case, it was easy to avoid the choice, because he could simply live vicariously through others. At Yosemite, someone plunged over a waterfall almost every year. Given that the waterfalls at Yosemite were several to many times higher than Niagara Falls, the plunges were invariably fatal. In all cases, they were the result of dumb behavior - swimming in the pool directly above the waterfall, crossing the river on slippery rocks upstream of the waterfall, wading into the current to take photographs of the waterfall. Most of the victims were reckless young men who knew better but chose not to.
"In each case, the victim is believed to have died from a plunge over the falls," Reid continued. "Autopsies showed that the immediate causes of death - massive chest and abdominal trauma - were consistent with high-velocity water-impact trauma associated with horizontal entry."
"We're assuming that the deaths were not accidental or self-inflicted?" Prentiss asked.
"Five deaths in two weeks?" Morgan asked back. "I could accept the first, maybe the second, as accidents or suicides, but the third, fourth, and fifth? That's way too many incidents in such a short time."
"The local police department agreed with you," Reid said. "At Niagara Falls, accidents are very rare, and while the falls are a popular suicide location, there are only 20 or so attempts per year. At first, the local PD believed that the deaths were accidental, although it was highly improbable for more than one person to go over the falls in the span of a week. The first two bodies were recovered on Saturday, November 13 and Monday, November 15. They were found several miles downstream and several days after death. The victims, Colin Taylor, 22, and Kazuo Sato, 23, were tourists, American and Japanese, who fit the victimology of reckless young men seeking a thrill in the river upstream of the falls. In each case, the victim had been traveling alone, so he was not reported missing until he failed to check out of his hotel in Niagara Falls, New York."
"What clued them in to the fact that the deaths were not accidental?" Prentiss asked.
"The third victim, Melody Sanders, 55, was a longtime resident of the city," Reid said. "She was reported missing by her husband after she failed to return home from an evening walk on Thursday, November 18. It was her daily routine to go for a walk on the trail along the river upstream of the American Falls. She was not someone who would have wandered into the river. Suicide was ruled out immediately."
"And the other victims?" Prentiss took notes on a yellow legal pad.
"The fourth victim, Angelina Alvarez, 41, was another tourist traveling alone, but she had been on her way to meet friends in Buffalo, New York," Reid said. "She had mentioned spending the day at Niagara Falls, then leaving after sunset and arriving in Buffalo on the evening of Monday, November 22. She was reported missing the next morning, after she failed to show up at her friends' house, and her cell phone, which was later found on her body, had no signal."
"The third victim disappeared in the evening," Prentiss said. "And the fourth victim was scheduled to leave the area after dark, but never made it to her next destination. Is the timing of the murders a part of the UnSub's M.O.? If they are murders, if there is an UnSub..." she trailed off, still struggling with the novelty of an UnSub who murdered his victims by pushing them over Niagara Falls.
"Yes, the timing of the murders does appear to be part of the M.O.," Reid answered. "The fifth victim, Peter Hoffman, 62, was an amateur photographer from Toronto who had driven down to Niagara Falls, Ontario to take pictures of the falls at sunset. His daughter specifically mentioned that her father had not been planning to depart Toronto until 2 PM on Thursday, November 25 in order to arrive in time to set up his tripod but not much earlier. He was supposed to return home that same night, but never made it back. That puts two of the victims in the vicinity of the falls near or after dark."
"Possibly a third, if Angelina Alvarez followed through with her plans," Morgan said.
"Yes," Reid nodded.
He paused, congratulating himself for following through with his own plans. Throughout the case briefing, he had adhered to yet another tenet of playing dumb. Tenet Number 2: Answer Only When Asked. Through the magic of this tenet, he had refrained from sharing information about suicide attempts at Niagara Falls and their similarities and differences with suicide attempts at the Golden Gate Bridge, including, but not limited to, the number of documented attempts (500 vs. 1,200), the heights of the plunges (170 feet vs. 250 feet), and the success rates (99% vs. 99%). It was yet another exercise in impulse control, but this time, the exercise was successful, so Reid bore high hopes for his performance in the field.
"How exactly did the victims end up in the water?" Hotch asked. "Were they pushed over the railing directly down the falls, or were they pushed into the river upstream of the falls and swept over the side with the downstream current? Were there any witnesses who noticed any of the victims in the river before each of them plunged over the side?"
"Around the time that the first victim disappeared, two witnesses reported seeing something in the river about 100 yards upstream of the American Falls," Reid replied. "They said that the subject appeared to be struggling against the current, but they could not positively identify it as a person. Whatever it was, it was swept over the side shortly after it was spotted. This occurred around 5:30 PM on Wednesday, November 10."
"And the others?" Rossi asked.
"There were no witnesses for the other incidents," Reid answered.
"That puts another victim in the area right after dark," Morgan said. "The first, third, fourth, and fifth victims could all have been killed in the early evening."
"Tell us more about the trail along the river," Hotch said. "If the first victim was spotted in the water, then he and the third victim were both in the vicinity of the American Falls, presumably on or near the trail along the river."
"The trail is a paved walking path with a railing that blocks off the river," Reid said. "The river lies only a few feet below the trail. For most of its length, the trail follows the river along the rapids immediately upstream of the falls, but some parts of the trail do approach very close to the falls themselves, such that the trail is almost directly overlooking the falls at certain viewpoints. As you can see from the photos..." he projected a collage of scenic photos onto the screen.
"That one," Rossi pointed at a photo in the lower lefthand corner. "The river is nearly level with the trail in that photo. The trail curves up right next to the falls. If I pushed you over the edge from that location, you'd plunge directly over the falls."
"Uh...Yeah," Reid looked at the photo and nodded.
"That one too," Morgan pointed at another photo. "Check it out, Reid. The falls are directly below the railing in that photo. If I pushed you, Reid, you'd be so scr..."
"Can we not confuse team members with UnSubs and victims, please?" Hotch interrupted.
"Sorry," Morgan lowered his eyes and rubbed his head in apology.
"As you can see from the photos, there are many places along the trail where the UnSub could have pushed the victims directly down the falls," Reid said. "One of the victims may have fallen into the river upstream of the falls, but we don't know exactly how the others ended up in the water."
"Is this an international case?" Prentiss changed the subject. "You said that the fifth victim was visiting from Toronto and had driven down to Niagara Falls, Ontario rather than Niagara Falls, New York."
"The two cities face each other across the river," Reid explained. "They're connected by a short bridge just downstream of the falls, where the river narrows into the Niagara Gorge. Right now, we don't know if Peter Hoffmann visited the American side. There was no information about that in the case file. We could hazard a guess based on..." he stopped.
Tenet Number 3: No Drawing Conclusions.
"Based on?" Rossi prompted.
"It's only a shot in the dark," Reid shook his head, refusing to answer.
"Shoot away, Dr. Reid," Rossi prompted again. "It may be a shot in the dark, but it's your shot in the dark."
"Um..." Reid blushed a little. "I was just going to say that the American Falls are west-facing, while the Horseshoe Falls, true to their name, form a horseshoe shape and face all directions except for south. I don't have much experience with photography, but if I wanted to take sunset pictures of the falls themselves, I'd probably take them from the east-facing Canadian side, with the Sun behind me and shining towards the falls."
"So the victim didn't cross the border! Which means that the UnSub must have crossed the border!" Garcia exclaimed. "Security at the U.S.-Canadian border is much tighter now than it was before 9/11. All passports are scanned, so there should be a record of everyone who crosses the border. I'll check to see if Peter Hoffmann crossed the border and make up a list of everyone else who crossed the border in the hours before his disappearance."
"And everyone else who crossed the border before the other victims disappeared from the American side," Prentiss said. "Let's not assume that the UnSub is American."
"Good point, Prentiss," Morgan winked across the table. "There's your diplomatic instinct. Mommy taught you well."
"Moving on..." Rossi raised his eyebrows. "Reid, you said that there were no witnesses to four of the five crimes and that four of the crimes had probably occurred shortly after dark."
"Uh-huh," Reid said, assuming a blank expression and refusing to go on. "Actually," he remembered something and went on, "Morgan was the one who said that the first and fourth crimes occurred shortly after dark. Of course, I agree with that assessment."
Tenet Number 4: Assign Credit Where Credit Was Due. Tenet Number 5: Agree With Others.
"Who cares who said what? I want to know what you think," Rossi said impatiently. "The crimes occurred in the evening. There were no witnesses. Did the UnSub choose to commit the crimes in the evening in order to avoid detection?"
"Possibly," Reid said. "Possibly, the UnSub waited until after dark to push the victims into the water. During the fall season, after dark, on a tree-lined trail by the river, it would be easy to push someone into the water without being observed. The water would have been so cold that once the victims had fallen in, they would have quickly succumbed to hypothermia and would not have been able to wave their arms and call for help. Even if they had, there was no guarantee that anyone would have seen them in the darkness or heard them over the noise of rushing falling water."
"In your estimation," Rossi continued, "Would the UnSub have chosen to push the victims directly down the falls or into the river upstream of the falls?"
"Um...I think...Yes, Emily?" Reid glanced over at Prentiss, who was opening and closing her mouth as if she wanted to say something.
Tenet Number 6: Ask Others Questions.
"Oh," Prentiss looked up, startled. "I was just going to say that the UnSub would have chosen a secluded location to push the victims into the water. Even in the evening, there would have been too many people on the trail directly over the falls. The area upstream of the falls would have been much less busy. Fewer potential witnesses up there."
"And fewer potential victims," Rossi said.
"He only needs one," Prentiss pointed out the obvious.
At the exchange, Reid nodded back and forth between Rossi and Prentiss. Tenet Number 7: No Correcting Others.
"This case is making me think twice about visiting a waterfall ever again," Garcia remarked. "Or any other type of cliffy area."
"I guess the Grand Canyon is out as a potential BAU vacation destination?" Prentiss asked.
"Who said that I wanted to go on vacation with you?" Garcia smirked.
"Oh, Baby Girl, that's cold," Morgan laughed.
"Oh, I didn't mean you," Garcia smiled sweetly at Morgan. "I'd go on vacation with you anyday. Especially to the Grand Canyon. You can save me when I almost fall in..." she batted her eyelashes and gazed up dreamily.
"Let's end here for now," Hotch said before Morgan could flirt back. "I think we understand the fundamentals of the case. So far, no clear victimology, no basic profile, only a truly bizarre M.O. Rossi and Morgan, interview the witnesses, the hotel employees, and the family of Melody Sanders when we get into town. Reid and Prentiss, stay at the police station and work with the detectives on the case. Prentiss, be prepared to work with the Canadian authorities. Garcia, stay here and keep us updated about the border crossings. Everyone get your ready bags and make sure that you're in it for the long haul. We've really got our work cut out for us on this case," he stood and gathered up his case file.
"What are you going to do?" Reid asked Hotch.
"I'm going to visit the crime scenes or what passes for crime scenes in this case," Hotch replied.
"Um...Actually, uh, I can do that, if you want," Reid said hesitantly. "I mean, I know all about the geology of the area and the hydraulics of the river and the falls and the history of people plunging over the falls and...Um, maybe I'll notice something that'll help us on the case? I dunno, maybe..."
Tenet Number 8: Over-Confidence Not Allowed.
"That's a good point, Reid," Hotch said. "You'd be looking at the scenery with a more educated eye. I'll go to the police station. The lead detective will be expecting to see me. You go and visit the crime scenes as soon as we get in, before it gets dark."
"Thanks, Hotch," Reid nodded with a small smile.
"You'd better be careful, Reid," Morgan teased. "Watch out for the UnSub. He might spot you from a distance and decide that you fit the vic..." he cut himself off at a glare from Hotch.
"Wheels up in 30," Hotch turned and exited the room.
"I've gotta hand it to you, Reid," Morgan teased again as soon as Hotch had disappeared. "Somehow, you've gotten Hotch wrapped around your little finger. He wouldn't even let me talk about pushing you down the falls."
"How do you know I won't push you down the falls before you push me down the falls?" Reid wiggled his eyebrows and stuck out his tongue in the universal expression of snotty little brothers everywhere.
"Aww, but you're both way too cute to be pushed down the falls," Garcia cooed. "Push Rossi," she suggested.
"Brilliant!" Prentiss clapped.
"See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil," Rossi mumbled on his way out of the room.
Prentiss snickered. Garcia giggled. Morgan laughed. Reid smiled. He smiled sincerely for the first time in a long time.
With a smile on his face, Reid followed his colleagues out of the room. On the way to his office to pick up his ready bag, he reviewed the tenets, then the profile. The profile, that of the UnSub, himself, and the original fallen angel, appeared before his eyes as the cross-section of an apple. At the core was guilt, and just beyond the core, in concentric ellipsoids of tasty fibers, was cynicism, the opposite of naivete.
"See what happens when you play dumb?" Reid asked himself.
"People like you more," Reid answered himself.
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