The Female Unsub

Chapter Two: Spencer's POV

"That's our suspect?" I ask Aaron Hotchner, Hotch, as I glance through the two way mirror at the girl pacing in the other room. She looks like she just woke up. Her blonde hair is thrown on top of her head in a messy ponytail and she's wearing only a pair of dark grey sweatpants, white vans, and a neon pink sports bra. Even in a disheveled state, I can't help but notice how pretty she is.

"Yep," Aaron says and I glance over at him, but he doesn't take his eyes off the suspect. "Garcia confirmed that all of the vics phones had her listed under the same phone number, which we're assuming is a burner since it isn't registered to her, and she was in their respective cities when the men went missing. But other than that, we're going off our profile and the very little Garcia was able to find." As if she knew we were talking about her, Penelope walks into the room and hands Hotch a file.

"Very little is right," she says quickly, "From what I can tell there isn't much out there on Sloane Williams. She's twenty-six, originally from Phoenix, Arizona and it appears that is still her permanent address. Her parents divorced when she was in her late teens but still has a good relationship with both. Speaks with her father a couple of times a week and her mother at least once every other week. She has two sisters, again, speaks with them regularly and sends them gifts for her nieces and nephews. She graduated from Arizona State University, with a double major in communication and psychology and a minor in criminology. She also has a masters in social psychology. She was working towards getting her doctorate in social psychology, had a long-term boyfriend who was a few years her senior, and held a steady job at a community for mentally disabled adults. But seemingly out of nowhere, a little over two years ago, she quit her job, broke up with the boyfriend, and dropped out of school. She started travelling across the continental US regularly with the occasional tropical vacation, but from what I can tell all of her travel expenses were paid for by a variety of different business oriented bank accounts."

"Her clients?" Hotch asks, staring at the girl pacing the floor, shivering slightly due to the cool temperature.

"That's what we're assuming, but since her travel expenses are put on a business account, there's no real way of knowing who charged it. Also, I still haven't been able to track down how she meets her clientele or her full client list," Garcia says, following his gaze into the room.

"We have to find that list, Garcia. If there are already five men we can connect her to, I'm sure that there are more missing or dead out there somewhere."

Garcia nods before turning on her heels, rushing back to her lair. Hotch turns to me, "I want you to speak with her."

"What? Why?" I ask as he gives me the file.

"I think out of all of us here, you'll be able to get her to talk. She's young, and based on the picture of her ex-boyfriend Garcia found, you're her type," he says, picking up a black blanket from the table in front of him and handing it to me.

I glance in the file and find the photo he's referring to. To be fair, he does have some of the same features I do; dark hazel eyes and curly brown hair, but the similarities end there. I sigh but don't fight him on this, he is the boss after all.

"Let's get this over with," I mutter and walk into the room.

Sloane stops pacing and looks me over. I give her a soft smile and hand her the blanket, which she takes with no hesitation and quickly wraps around herself. I sit down at the metal table and gesture for her to do the same. She sits, holding the blanket closer to her.

"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid, I work with the behavioral analysis unit here," I say calmly. I open the file in front of me before continuing, "do you know why we brought you in this morning?" She remains quiet, her body language giving nothing away. "Do you recognize these men?" I ask, laying the pictures of the missing men out in front of her.

She glances down at them, but her expression stays the same. There is no glint of recognition in her eyes, or anything that shows she knows them at all. She stays quiet.

"You see," I say, "I think you do know these men and could tell us where to find them." I stop speaking and wait for her to respond.

"And why would I know that, Dr. Reid?" she asks, her voice is steady.

I swallow hard at her using my formal name; she's already trying to get under my skin and she cannot know that it's working. I look into her eyes as she scans my features, maybe picking up on the fact that I share some with her ex boyfriend.

"You were in town when all of these victims went missing and your contact information was found in all of their devices."

Her body language changes ever so subtly, she relaxes into the chair and cocks her head slightly. Garcia better find out more information quickly, because she knows that what we have is circumstantial.

"Since when is it a crime to give out your contact information or share a phone call with another person?" She asks, looking me directly in the eyes, "Also, I travel to a lot of cities for work. Given that large cities have a high crime rate, it's no surprise that some random missing persons cases align with my travel schedule."

She's not wrong. Statistically speaking, almost 600,000 people go missing per year in the United States alone; typically from larger, more populated areas.

"What is it exactly that you do for work that causes you to travel so often?" I ask, as I collect the photographs and place them back in the folder.

She pauses for a moment, clearly thinking of the best way to phrase what she does. "I provide companionship to lonely people," She states, her lips flinch slightly as she forces away a smirk.

"You mean lonely men, right?" I clarify. I fold my hands on the table, keeping eye contact with her, trying to read even the most subtle tells.

"Primarily, yes. But women can be lonely too." Again, she has no emotion behind her words, no emphasis on certain phrases, nothing.

I nod and stand up, taking the file off the table as I do so. I walk to the door and hesitate before opening it. I turn to face her again, "I don't judge you for what you do for work, that's your business," I state, "But when at least five clients of yours go missing, that's when your business becomes mine."

I walk out the door and find Hotch, Jennifer Jareau, and David Rossi watching from the window. "Did you guys get anything?" I ask.

"Nothing," Rossi says shaking his head, "she didn't show any recognition to the photographs, even though we know based on video footage she was with the most recent missing man last night. No changes in her speech patterns, there was a slight change in her body language when you mentioned what ties her to the victims, but other than that, she was cool as a cucumber."

"Well that makes sense with her knowledge of psychology," Hotch states, crossing his arms, still facing the room.

"I noticed one more thing," JJ says; she's standing in front of the laptop that the camera feeds to. "When you left the room, Spence, after you said the thing about her business now being yours, I noticed that she clenched her jaw slightly. It was barely noticeable until I watched the tape back, but it looks like she was holding back. Like when you said that, it got under her skin a little bit and she was going to reply but stopped herself."

We all gather around the screen to see what she's referring to and I see it too. Her eyes narrow slightly and her jaw tenses for a split second before her face falls again. She knows more than she's letting on and now it's our job to prove it.