CM The future I see without you

"Reid, you should have notified me earlier that night." When Hotch watched the numbers on the elevator display jump up one after another, he said softly to the absent-minded doctor next to him, "If you go from me, maybe It's more in line with the procedure."

"But as a senior FBI agent," Reid said affirmatively, recalling the bureau's regulations and the policy details of the Department of Justice, "I have the right to help the local police catch robbers." But he looked at Hotch again The helplessness revealed in the middle, and then slowly explained: "I also wanted to tell you earlier, but I didn't expect it to be so serious. I just thought it was her ex-fiancé who came back, but I didn't expect it to be her student. To kill her, by the time I cracked the password in her text message and rushed to her apartment, she had already been kidnapped."

As he said that, Reid recalled the adventures at that time, and now he still has lingering fears. He sighed and said, "Fortunately, Jacques was there at the time, otherwise..."

Speaking of Jacques, Hotch's concern was hit again, and he asked Reid, saying, "By the way, how is he? He asked me for half a day of sick leave."

"It was only a little hot last night, but I had a high fever in the early morning." Reid frowned again, he lowered his head slightly, looked at the delicate lines on the edge of his shoes, and said, "But when I came out, it was already Almost back."

"Ding" BAU's floor has arrived, and the elevator doors slowly move to both sides.

Hotch relaxed, nodded, and said, "That's good, right, you have to tell me what happened that night again, I have to record it, and I need it when I give you a supplementary approval certificate. Or start talking now, I remember."

Reid gave an "um" and started talking slowly directly from the first text message he received from Maeve.

Perhaps talking to someone with a high IQ is more concise and clear. Hotch listened quietly as he walked. What Reid said were just the key points needed in his own report, and some details had been automatically omitted by him.

Just when Reid's narration was about to end, Hotch heard him sigh softly behind him, and seemed to be talking to himself: "I can't believe that if one day Jacques is tied to a chair like this, with a handle on his head , gun, maybe, maybe my brain will collapse directly, unable to think, and then become the stupidest person in the world..."

He stopped, thought for a while, and said seriously to the sad doctor word by word: "Reid, this is just your own meaningless conjecture, and you know that this kind of thing is impossible to happen. "

"I know," Reid looked at Hotch's calm face, and asked cautiously, "What if, I mean what if? What if one day..."

"What happened one day?" Rossi who came from outside looked strangely at the two people who were standing at the door but didn't go in, and asked.

"Nothing, David," Hotch said, turning to Rossi, "just one of Reid's, weird assumptions."

Rossi looked at the two men hesitantly, with a calm expression on his face, and didn't mean to let him join the conversation, so he shrugged, walked around Reid, walked into the hall, and went straight to his office.

Hotch watched him walk away, and then said: "In case of such a day, we will rescue him safely, Reid, you should trust us, yourself, and Jacques even more."

His voice was very low, with almost no change in timbre, but the series of words he spit out had a reassuring tone.

Reid looked at Hotch in silence for a long time, perhaps because of his usual reliability, or his flat and steady tone, the restless heart since last night was really relieved, he nodded and said softly: "Yes, you that's right."

**

Jacques, who was on sick leave, thought he could continue to sleep leisurely in the lobby of BAU in the afternoon until he got off work, but Garcia called at noon and said there was a case.

Jacques was a little embarrassed. He was holding a two-leaf knife against a fat snail in his right hand, staring at the complicated baroque patterns on the edge of the white porcelain plate, holding his mobile phone in his left hand, and after thinking about it, he still said: "If no one comes Pick me up, I'll be there five or ten minutes late, oh, Garcia, stop barking, calm down, okay...Take a taxi? Do you know how long it takes to take a taxi from here during rush hour? Two hours at the shortest! "

Hotch listened for a while, took the phone in Garcia's hand, and said, "If I don't see you on the plane in three or ten minutes, I'll just tell Reid what you didn't tell him, Jacques, think about it , and then make a decision.”

"Hey! That's..." Jacques angrily dropped the knife in his hand, threw away the napkin, and said, "Then why should I hide it from him for so many days! I'm just waiting for myself... Forget it, I'll go over, right away!"

"Ah."

Hotch hung up the phone, returned it to Garcia, and said lightly, "Don't tell Reid."

"But I don't know..." Garcia looked at Hotch's majestic face in a daze, and said cautiously, "What is it..."

"I mean, don't tell Reid there's one thing Jacques hasn't told him," Hotch said, frowning. "If he knew, he'd figure it out."

"Okay then." Garcia reassured softly.

Hotch nodded reassuringly, and walked out of the door of the analysis room.

After 25 minutes, Emily raised her hand and put her luggage on the luggage rack, glanced at her watch and the empty space next to Reid, shook her head, and said, "It seems that Jacques can't catch up with us."

Reid squinted at her, didn't say anything, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and his eyes returned to the file.

Do you look confident? Emily raised her eyebrows and sat down next to Morgan, who was opposite, but just after reading a few lines, Jacques climbed up out of breath, the exquisite suit jacket was roughly clutched in his hand, and the collar was buttoned meticulously on weekdays The first button on the shirt seemed to be torn off vigorously, revealing the light golden strokes on the inside of the collar at the back of the neck, a strand of black hair was wet with sweat, winding and damply applied to the cheek.

"27 minutes and 30 seconds." Looking at the silver watch on his wrist, Hotch calmly announced Jacques' results, then put his PDA on the table and motioned him to sit down.

Reid stood up, let Jacques take a seat, and moved the glass of water in front of him to his, but the young man was still panting heavily, staring at the indifferent Hotch opposite him with displeasure.

"So sometimes if you don't push yourself hard, how will you know how much potential you have?" Rossi said jokingly looking at the angry young man with a smile on his face.

"But this time you broke the record, and you have to celebrate when this case is over." Morgan said with a smile.

"What record?" Jacques looked at Morgan alertly, squinting his eyes and asked.

Morgan couldn't speak for a while, coughed a few times in embarrassment, and said, "emmm..."

"So you really came all the way from home?" JJ asked, after all, Reid's apartment is quite close to the FBI building, but the distance to the airport is quite far...

"How is it possible!" Jacques said angrily, "I went to BAU first, but Garcia told me that you had already left, so I rushed here again, and I managed to catch up."

"You've been running here?" Emily couldn't believe it. Although it was a dedicated airport within the FBI, it took twelve minutes to drive from BAU to the airport.

Jacques looked at the quiet Reid beside him hesitantly, and then said cautiously: "Oh, that's right, yes, oh, someone kindly gave me a car."

"Who?" Reid asked, "Faustian? Jewett? Consuela? Oh, she's a quiet little girl, she can't drive the car so fast, who else? Emmm, the Dennichers from IT?"

Jacques smiled triumphantly and said, "No! It's Betty. She treated us all to eat Gelato that day, and it felt pretty good." His thoughts went back to the girl with the high ponytail. On the big bag of ice cream, it seems that there is still the soft and soft taste of the ancient Italian handmade ice cream on the tip of the tongue, and he sighed with nostalgia: "It would be nice to have this wonderful experience a few more times."

"But not now." JJ took a look at Reid's puckered mouth and narrowed eyes, interrupting Jacques' reverie just in time, pointing to the PDA in front of him and saying, "We still have a case."

"Oh, I know," Jacques said, shrugging, "Isn't that why I came here so fast? Let me see..."

Reid sighed, and kept sliding his fingers on the PDA screen. He stared at the black symbols on it, but he thought in his heart, Jacques is like this, always surrounded by countless men and women, lovely, arrogant, beautiful Yes, glamorous... But I have to admit that a person like him should be surrounded by such admiring eyes, and enjoy everyone's praise as he should.

He turned his head slightly, glanced at Jacques who was seriously looking at the file, and quickly turned his gaze back to his brand new PDA, thinking, but he loves me, every night he sleeps, beside me, lying On my bed, covered with my quilt.

Even after a long time, his face is old and his years are gone, the only person holding his hand and accompanying him to the end is himself.

Just thinking about it like this, a little bit of sweetness gradually appeared in my heart, but when the beautiful imagination passed, there was more unspeakable fear.

Jacques propped his chin, looked through the entire information, and said with some confusion: "A DJ, a nurse, one was stabbed 31 times, and the other was stabbed 40 times, and involved eight different weapons, left-handed, right-handed, with shallow wounds. Yushen, are we looking for a murder gang?"

"That's what I think at the moment," Hotch said, "and the DJ's watch, cell phone and computer are gone. Helen Haywood, the nurse, according to the neighbor's description, some jewelry, a computer and a lily frame are missing from her home, so Serial murder and theft cannot be ruled out."

"Is there a serious gang problem in Portland?" Jacques asked.

Reid shook his head and said, "Rarely, it's more like a bunch of desperate people in desperate need of money."

"That's right." Jacques glanced at the list of stolen items in the information again. They were all things that could be pawned, common and valuable, but...he thought for a while, and said, "If it's for money, , why do you want to kill people? And you have stabbed so many knives, is there any connection between this Jay and Helen?"

"No." Reid explained: "Two young professionals who had never met before were killed in the middle of the night, and the places of death were very similar, within two miles."

"You said there are very few gang problems in this area," Jacques guessed. "I don't think the robbery rate is that high either?"

Hotch nodded knowingly. He looked at Reid and asked, "Have you finished your geographic profiling?"

"Of course." Reid took out a map folded into a rectangle from the bag behind him, spread it out on the desktop, pointed to the intersection of the two circles drawn with a red oil pen, and said, "I added the crime scene distance and attenuation distance Two factors, this area of ​​Portland was found to be within the expected five-mile distance."

"So this intersection area may be the area where the suspects work or live." Emily stood up and leaned against the back of Reid's chair, looking at the shuttle shape drawn with a bright red oil pen, and said.

"I asked Garcia to look for gangs with records in this area to commit crimes." JJ looked at Hotch and said.

Hotch nodded, he turned to the others, and ordered: "When we arrive, Rossi and I will go to Helen Haywood's house, Jacques, you and JJ will go to the alley where Jay Johnson was killed, and Morgan will go to the forensic room. A little more detailed information, the instructions sent by the police station are still too vague about left-handed and right-handed, Emily and Reid go to the police station first, and Sergeant Reagan will wait for you there."

**

By the time BAU arrived in Portland, the sun had moved slightly to the west.

JJ turned the steering wheel, stepped on the brake lightly, and parked the Chevrolet firmly behind the police car on the street. Jacques pushed open the door and got out of the car. The loose collar on the plane was neatly set up around the neck, and the delicate and round horn buttons showed a charming luster under the sunlight.

JJ laughed and joked, "Actually, sometimes it's a good choice to come to work alone."

Jacques cried and said, "If I was asked to look at the map and fumble for work every day, my head would explode! It's not in Syria, I don't need to force myself to think about these unpleasant things." He said, turning his head , looked at JJ walking quietly beside her, and said nonchalantly: "How rare is a peaceful life, why do people make trouble for themselves?"

JJ burst out laughing. She turned around and looked at the young man standing in the bright sunlight at the entrance of the alley. His long eyelashes were dyed golden yellow by the sunlight, like an angel who knew nothing about the world.She said: "People don't make trouble for themselves, Jacques, this is life. Everyone wants to be positive and love life, love life, but in reality there will always be many difficulties to hinder you and suppress you. Make you sad, make you despair."

"Then what's the point of living?"

JJ shook her head. At this time, she is more like an old man who has gone through vicissitudes. She said: "But the meaning of life is not here, to break through barriers that hinder you one after another to find a new one. Own."

Jacques nodded thoughtfully. Although what JJ said now is very similar to the article on the idealist materialism debate that Reid chanted every night, it is more simple and easy to understand, which is in line with his own understanding level.

In just a few words, they have arrived at the crime scene with a yellow cordon. Since Jay Johnson was attacked two days ago when he came out of the back door of the bar when he was off work late at night and wanted to take a shortcut, the people outside the cordon The corner is already filled with commemorative bouquets and photos of Jay's death, and the small, white candles are still burning with small flames. People keep coming over with sad expressions and bending over to put a bouquet of flowers beside them.

"Look at those little bottles." Jacques said to JJ.

JJ followed his gaze and turned around. There were densely packed white slender glass bottles on the edge of the alley at the back door of the bar. She said, "It seems that there are quite a few people addicted to drugs here."

"It's probably young people in their twenties." Jacques squatted down, looked closely at the bottle still stained with white powder, and said, "Pentachlorophenol, if I'm not wrong, it's a strong Hallucinogens, could it be that they hit Jay with a steel pipe after they got high?"

"Maybe," JJ said, "if that's the case, it would explain why his phone and computer were taken away, and those excessive wounds could also be due to..."

"A massive release of adrenaline." Jacques added lightly.

JJ nodded, and she glanced at the vibrating phone, her expression suddenly became strange.

"What's wrong?" Jacques asked standing up.

JJ looked at the above text message and said: "Hotch and Rossi found that the shoe prints on the ground belonged to one person at the nurse's house, and besides things like photo frames and computers, Helen also had more valuable DVDs and desktop computers at home... Wait, it's still there."

"It is impossible for an unorganized novice gang to commit crimes so strictly that they only wear shoes of the same style and size." Jacques said, "and Reid said that there were almost no people in the community at the time Helen was killed, and they could not say that they did not have enough time. I didn't take anything more valuable, let alone this hallucinogenic drug," he kicked the glass bottle under his feet, and said, "Although it is cheap, frequent use still requires a lot of money."

"So they thought it might be a person." JJ put the phone back, nodded to the police officers stationed nearby, motioned to take a step away, and walked out side by side with Jacques, saying, "Hotch found a person in her house." He asked Morgan to check there first, maybe he would find something on the surveillance video. If the suspect can target Helen, there is only her workplace and her way to and from work."

Jacques got in the car, fastened his seat belt, thought for a while, and said: "If it is really a person, why are the wounds deep and shallow, and the traces of left and right hands are so obvious? Could it be schizophrenia? Personality?"

JJ started the car and was about to answer when Jacques asked, "Do you remember the Randy Martin case?"

"Of course, the one his mother forced him to kill," JJ said.

"Oh, yes, but although he owes a lot to his mother, but," Jacques said, "he was also a schizophrenic, and the victim's wounds also appeared in two completely different styles, rusty and skilled. Mental instability can easily lead to loss of control, and if the suspect is still an addict, then he may not have received formal treatment and drug control, which is even more difficult to say."