A Criminal's Mind

Rose

We call it a night at the bar after a couple of drinks and find a hotel for the night. The boys in one room and me in another. Luckily for us, they are adjoining rooms. So until we are really ready to go to bed, the door is open. Holden is in the bathroom brushing his teeth, "here's a question. If it is Benjamin, or some other boyfriend who freaked out on her, does the case merit our involvement?"

I walk into the room, having been in my room kicking my shoes off, "yes, it does."

"We can't rule out a sequence killer, but if the perpetrator was a townie."

I sigh, "it doesn't mean he doesn't have the potential to kill again. Most sequence killers don't intend to kill the first time, look at Rissell. He had no intention of killing his first victim, but after the first one..."

"But if the crime is random then there is no reason for repeating it."

"Do you even listen when I talk?"

Tench takes off his glasses, since he had been reading, "here's my question, shouldn't our funding cover three separate rooms?"

Ford steps out of the bathroom, "you don't like our company?" Tench sighs as he sits up and starts looking over some photos of the crime scene. Ford sits next to him, while crawl on to the bed behind them and look over his shoulder, "the mutilation of her body alone justifies our involvement."

Tench looks over to Ford, "would you mind sitting on your own bed," he looks back over to me, "and would you mind not looking over my shoulder, please?"

Ford takes a photo out of Tench's hand and moves over to his bed, I sit next to Tench, granted not as close as Ford was. I look over to the clock and see it is past 1 a.m. "Well, I don't know about the two of you, but I am going to head to bed. Who is going to talk to the stylist tomorrow?"

"You, probably, if you're alright with that?"

"Yeah, of course." I nod, "I'll see you boys tomorrow."

"Night," Ford and Tench call out in unison, neither looking up from what they're doing. I close the door and get changed, I honestly think I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.

The next morning we wake up bright and early to head out to the salon. I wake up to Ford knocking on the adjoining door, "Nance? Nancy, it's time to get going. Come on, boots are on the ground."

I roll out of bed and grab a robe, Ford still knocking, "okay, I heard you, stop knocking." I open the door.

Ford is dressed and ready to go, "did you just wake up?"

"Yes," I nod, "haven't you heard of beauty sleep."

Ford shakes his head, "sleep is for the weak in this game, hurry up."

"I'll meet you two in the lobby," I close the door and quickly get ready. I'm kind of happy I packed slacks and flats rather than a skirt and heels. I'm so tired of the cold. When I get down to the lobby Ford looks at me a bit confused, "what?"

"Nothing, just... uh... pants?"

"What, you boys are the only ones who can wear suits?"

"No, no, its not that. It's just... I like it."

I chuckle, "let's go." We head to the salon, the only one in town actually, so it wasn't hard to narrow them down.

As I walk in, a woman behind a register greets me, "hello, what can we do for you today?"

"Hi," I turn to her, "I'm Nancy Freemen, I'm with the FBI and I need to speak with Beverly Jean Shaw's stylist."

"Oh, of course, it's so terrible what happened to her. Um..." The woman looks around, "Margot is the one who worked on her last. She's right back here." The woman walks me back to a stylist who is working on an older woman, cutting and curling her hair. "Margot?"