The Female Unsub

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sloane's POV

I lean against the small window and gaze out at the clouds below me. This is my favorite view in the whole world and has been the biggest perk of my livelihood by far. Sitting first class on an airplane with the window seat, a glass of champagne in my hand and my destination on my mind, is truly my happy place. But while this isn't a work trip, thank God, I am on a mission. I'm on my way to DC to visit my favorite FBI agent before making my way to Florida to see Nathan in prison.

I'm still a little surprised with how easy it was to convince him to take the fall for me. When I went to his hotel room that night in New York, I was prepared to do some major manipulating, maybe even seduce him, but it wasn't necessary.

I broke down crying, I told him that I was scared because I knew that the FBI was closing in on me and that I can't go back to prison. Between the sobs, I filled him in how scared I was and that I wished that there was something I could do to stop this from happening. He then took my hands in his and volunteered to take the fall for me.

He said that he also had blood on his hands and he would do this for me. He assured me that he could handle being in prison again, that he would be relatively safe in there since he killed rapists to protect the girl he loved. He didn't want me to go through any more trauma in my life because I had been through enough.

I then faked a phone call to Tim to 'begin' creating the digital bread crumbs. After the 'call', we came up with our plan. I feel a smile form on my face thinking back to how well it worked.

It's been four months since Nathan confessed to all 25 murders and, to get a lesser sentence, he even offered to give the dump sites of the bodies he could. Most of the men were disposed of in a body of water or buried in the wilderness outside major cities in shallow graves, so those corpses were easy to give up. But others, like Mr. Gregory Baker, were dismembered before being distributed to multiple dumpsters. The murders took place in almost every major city in the United States and made international news. Luckily, they never mentioned me by name, just as the 'woman who drove him to murder'.

Since Nathan pled guilty, he didn't have to go through the treacherous process of a trail and was sentenced to life in prison with the possiblilty of parole in thirty years. He's serving his time in a facility in Florida, since the discovery of Dr. Bently Turner is what did him under and the crime occured there. I visit him when I can and he tells me everytime I see him that he would do it all over again.

He also insists that I don't wait for him. That he wants me to meet a good guy, get married, and have a full life. He always says that we'll meet again in another life and have our shot to be together, but right now he just wants me to be happy. He even suggested I reach out to Spencer and give that a try, but I told him that Spencer and I would never happen.

I haven't really spoken to Spencer since Nathan's sentencing and I surprised myself when I reached out to him to ask him to meet with me. I still have a feeling that he holds me responsible for the murders even with Nathan's confession. We've texted here and there but it's not like it was before New York. Honestly, it just solidifies my suspicions that he was only getting close to me for the case. But I need to see him one last time to truly put an end to all of this. It's time for the grand finale.

--

Sitting in the coffee shop, I find myself grazing my fingers against the spines of the worn out novels that line the walls. I couldn't fully appreciate it when I was here last, but the shop is truly incredible. I hear the bell on the door jingle and I lift my head to see the tall genius walking through them. I smile and gesture for him to sit in front of me, like he's done so many times. He smiles back at me and takes the seat.

"You remember how I take my coffee?" He asks, noting the mug in front of him.

I nod, "dark roast with two sugars or an iced oat milk latte. But since it's October and a little chilly out, I figured you'd want the hot coffee." I lean in to him and whisper, "and I don't have an eidetic memory."

He laughs and I relax in my chair, taking a sip of my black tea.

"So," he says after a moment, "how long are you going to be in DC on this trip?"

I sigh, "just today, actually. I've kinda retired from the whole paid companion gig."

He nearly chokes on his coffee and I laugh. "Really?" He asks between coughs, "what brought on that decision?"

"I came into some money and I no longer need to work to support myself," I say, taking another sip of my tea.

Lester Klein passed away last month and after his funeral, I was told that he left me half of his estate. Now that I'm a multi-millionaire, I decided to sell my client list to a new girl and start living my life for me.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asks, after he's fully recovered.

I shrug, "I'm not sure. Maybe I'll buy a second home? Or I've always wanted to travel the world so I could do that. Who knows? Maybe during my travels I'll meet a nice guy and we can explore together."

My eyes meet his and I know that time to end this. I need to make my final move and end our chess match for good.

"I think about it a lot, you know."

He scrunches his brows in confusion so I continue. "About what we could have been. I mean, if you and I had met under different circumstances, we could have been something special."

"You know, I think you might be right about that, Sloane," he picks up his mug and looks into my eyes, "but after everything we've been through, I don't think it would be a good idea."

I nod and take the final sip of my tea, "yeah, it's kind of hard to build a relationship when one person still believes the other is capable of murder." He freezes, mug still hovering above the table and looks up at me. "Even though my best friend and apparent stalker was the one who admitted to everything and is now serving life in prison for the crimes."

His gaze is harsh, but he remains quiet so I continue. "But then again, you could've been right all along. And now, you're just bitter because you can't stand the fact that you lost and not used to losing. Right, Spencie? Especially not to a woman." I stand up and take a step to leave, but stop right next to him. I bend down and kiss him on the cheek before whispering, "Checkmate, Dr. Reid. I warned you I would get away with it. I win."

I walk away then, not giving him the opportunity to respond and I don't look back. Good bye, Dr. Reid, it was a pleasure beating you at your own game.