Jack and Emily had just removed their gloves when they heard the forensic officer call out. They exchanged a glance and quickly returned to the burial pit.
At the bottom of the pit, where they had just unearthed one body, another hand was now visible.
——
The discovery of a second body delayed Jack and Emily by almost two hours at the scene. It was past 2 AM when they finally returned to Denver.
Emily, utterly exhausted, went straight to her room to sleep. Jack, however, barely slept, spending most of the night lying on his bed, turning the case over in his mind. It wasn't until dawn that he managed to get a brief nap.
When he woke up, he realized he had overslept, a rare occurrence for him. Fortunately, the team knew how hard he'd been working and left him undisturbed, with JJ leaving him a note.
After a quick breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Jack grabbed a coffee on his way and headed to the FBI office. As he entered the third-floor conference room, Jill Moss was pacing in front of the evidence board, posing a question to the group.
"One phone call, two bodies—why? Is the suspect trying to send a message?"
Jack pulled out a chair and sat down, setting his coffee on the table with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"It's clearly a response to your public statement, isn't it? These two new victims went missing eight months ago, and the coroner estimates they were refrigerated for at least six months.
Do you understand what that means? The killer has been waiting for this moment—waiting for the police to declare war so he could respond."
Jill Moss didn't seem fazed by Jack's attitude. "Good. If he's emotional, he'll slip up."
"Yes, and that's exactly what he wants," Rossi said thoughtfully, seemingly ignoring Jill's comment as he carefully considered Jack's words.
"I couldn't figure out why for nearly ten years the killer's methods were flawless, leaving no trace. But why, six months ago, did he suddenly fall behind on rent for that storage unit, exposing everything?"
"You think he wanted us to find it?" Reid, catching on, asked.
Rossi nodded slowly. "Maybe he decided it was time for the world to know who he is."
"Isn't that a bit over-complicated? Why not just send some photos of the victims, a video, or some evidence to prove his crimes?" Jill Moss asked, either genuinely confused or irritated by Jack's attitude.
"Because he wants someone to profile him," Jack answered.
"He wants the police to analyze every stage of his life, starting from childhood. Remember how we said his excitement threshold would keep rising, that he'd need new stimuli?
Exposing himself to the police is his new thrill. It's like writing a book—he wants us to read it from chapter one."
Jack stood and pointed to the screen displaying the latest victim's information. "Five years ago, his methods started to change. That real estate agent he murdered was one of his experimental victims.
Though he planned meticulously, torturing and assaulting her in a soundproof basement, the location didn't belong to him. There was always the possibility of something going wrong.
He may not have realized it consciously, but that was the moment he began to challenge the police.
Now, look at the timeline of these two latest victims. They disappeared eight months ago, just three days apart. According to the coroner, they died about six months ago."
Reid quickly grasped what Jack was implying.
"He abducted two people at once, doubling the risk and doubling the thrill. Two months of repeated torture, but even that couldn't satisfy him."
Feeling validated, Jack triumphantly drained his coffee cup. The hours spent awake in bed, puzzling over the case, had paid off.
"Exactly. His threshold reached its peak. Even with double the victims, extended torture, and experimentation, the pleasure diminished.
So, he opened his storage unit to the police, hoping to change the game, looking for a new thrill to stimulate him."
As Jack explained his theory, JJ hurried into the room, handing a report to Hotchner.
"This is the second autopsy report from the Denver coroner's office. Both bodies were repeatedly thawed and refrozen. They suspect the killer may have engaged in necrophilia."
The women in the room grimaced in disgust, while the men's expressions darkened. This was no ordinary psychopathic behavior; it was something far more depraved.
Only Jack seemed to keep his focus on Jill Moss, who subtly shifted her posture, crossing her legs as if she was uncomfortable.
"What kind of new game is he envisioning?" Jill Moss asked, her face showing a slight, unusual flush.
"We don't know. Maybe it's his last wild spree, writing the climactic final chapter, or maybe it's the prelude to a new story." Jack shrugged. After all, he wasn't a sadist; he couldn't predict the killer's next move, though the pieces had fallen into place for now.
"Knock, knock!" An agent appeared at the doorway, politely tapping on the already open door.
"Jill, line two. It's The Chronicle."
"Ah, right, I'll take it in my office." Jill Moss apologized quietly, grabbed her notebook, and quickly left the room.
"Planning your next press conference?" Emily called out loudly, making sure Jill heard before she exited the room.
Jill stumbled slightly, but didn't respond or turn back. In that brief moment, though, something caught Jack's eye. Maybe it was the angle of the light, but with his sharp sense for movement, he noticed something unusual.
As Jill bent slightly, he could just barely make out a glint on her stockings—an odd sight.
I must be losing my mind, Jack thought, shaking his head forcefully. What was this, some bizarre Romance of the Three Kingdoms scenario? Clearly, his past stint as a "censorship officer" had left him with a few too many strange aftereffects. He might need to sneak into JJ's room tonight for some "therapy."
"Reid, have you made any new progress with the map markings?" Hotchner asked. With fewer distractions, the BAU team's discussions became more relaxed.
Reid shook his head. "No, there are still too many missing elements. I can't map the entire state of Colorado."
"I remember you mentioning that the killer, after years of evading capture, might strike close to home," Hotchner said.
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