[✓] 𝐶𝐼𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅 | 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃

𝟐𝟕 | 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝟐/𝟐

— 𝒮 —

"𝐇𝐈, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 Agent Jareau with the FBI, and . . ." JJ sighed in frustration, leaning back against the desk behind Spencer. "That's the third time I've been hung up on."

"Try not saying FBI," suggested Rossi.

Spencer, while pinning a paper onto the info board he was working on, questioned, "Who was that?"

"Contact for a local militia newsletter."

Spencer glanced back at her and nodded. "Yeah, drop the FBI Part."

"A woman is missing," JJ said incredulously. "You'd think these people would want to help us."

"They do want to help," agreed Rossi. "The missing woman, not us."

JJ nodded in understanding just as her phone rang. She picked up. "Go ahead, Garcia."

"You were spot on, crime fighters. Military records match. Francis Goehring, forty-two years old. Did a year in the army before a bad conduct discharge—highlight of which was an arrest during a bar brawl in which three other people were hospitalized. Uh, he also appears in the federal database For . . . get this, aggressive militia groups.

"'Aggressive militia groups,'" JJ repeated. "Is there any other type?"

"Uh-huh. That's your federal government at work. We specialize in redundancy."

"You see a last known address?" questioned Rossi as he stepped closer.

"A compound just outside of town. It's coming your way. Oh, he also has a wife that doesn't appear to live with him. Diane Marie Goehring, lives in Shelby, a few hours away."

"Have the state police bring in the wife," instructed Rossi. "Reid and I will go make friends with his neighbours."

— 𝒮 —

𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆!

𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒

𝐖𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄.
-𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

Despite these signs, Spencer still knocked beside the screen door. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be nervous, given their hatred for the FBI, but the fact that Rossi was with him made him feel a little bit better. 

Footsteps grew nearer. A man, wearing a jean jacket and a death glare, approached the door.

"What the hell do you want? Can't you read?"

"I'm not a salesman," replied Spencer, digging his badge out of his pocket, "I'm with the FBI."

"FBI? You're not serious." He scoffed, despite being shown the badge. "You look like a pipe cleaner with eyes. I could snap you like a twig."

"But then," interjected Rossi, walking up and flashing his badge, "he isn't alone. We're here because this was the address listed for Francis Goehring."

"I haven't seen him in months."

"We'd like to see his residence," insisted Rossi.

The man went to close the actual door, but Rossi was quicker as he pulled the screen door open.

"Francis Goehring abducted three women. We're looking for a fourth," Rossi told him adamantly, lifting up a picture of Angela. "He took her while her husband and son were in a store. This isn't about us, it's about a woman from your community."