"So, they fancy themselves as the Grim Reaper?" Joyner asked curiously, standing beside Hotchner.
Hotchner's lips curved slightly, hinting at a rare smile. "If that's their intention, they clearly lack a basic understanding of tarot cards.
The 'Death' card doesn't merely signify physical death. It represents endings and transformation. When this card appears, it often signals the conclusion of something in life, such as a promotion or marriage.
This type of ending isn't negative. It often heralds a new beginning or a kind of rebirth."
Hotchner's uncharacteristically articulate explanation drew the group's attention. It was entirely out of character for the rigid, old-fashioned agent to deliver such insight, especially on a topic as esoteric as tarot cards.
If Reid had said it, no one would have batted an eye. After all, the team's resident genius was a walking encyclopedia.
Similarly, if any of the female agents had brought it up, it wouldn't have seemed strange—tarot readings, like astrology, were often associated with the interests of younger women.
"My wife, Haley, went through a phase where she was obsessed with tarot readings," Hotchner explained, noticing the surprised looks around him. "Especially after I proposed to her. Every time she drew the 'Death' card, she'd be thrilled."
The rare smile on Hotchner's face was met with mixed reactions. While some chuckled softly, others, like Rossi, discreetly observed Joyner's slightly downcast expression. It was clear to most that Hotchner had deliberately shifted the topic to set boundaries.
Oblivious to the undercurrent in the room, Danny shrugged dismissively. "So, is this what you mean when you say the killer is starting to communicate with the police? Taunting us for some sort of psychological satisfaction?"
Rossi offered a noncommittal nod. "Perhaps. In the 'DC Sniper' case, John Muhammad and Lee Malvo left identical cards at crime scenes."
Joyner, recovering her composure, forced herself to focus on the case. "So, they're copycats of the 'DC Snipers,' trying to recreate a similar wave of fear?"
"More importantly," Rossi added, "they've clearly studied similar cases and want us to know it. They're sending a message: 'We know what you know.'"
Rossi turned to Reid. "Remember Kenneth Bianchi from the 'Hillside Stranglers' case? Not only did he fool the LAPD by pretending to be a helpful bystander at crime scenes, but he also dabbled in psychology. After his arrest, he used his limited knowledge to feign dissociative identity disorder in an attempt to escape justice."
Reid nodded. "One of the killers' motives here might be to challenge the NYPD or FBI, trying to prove their intellectual superiority."
Joyner glanced at the growing crowd of onlookers, particularly at the journalists wielding high-end cameras. Anxiety clouded her face. "Regardless of their motive, they've succeeded. Ms. Moritz is considering pulling agents from neighboring cities to assist."
Danny sighed deeply. "The NYPD has already recalled all off-duty officers, but we still can't cover all the potential attack sites Reid highlighted. Hopefully, reinforcements from the FBI will help ease the strain."
"Why do I feel like that's exactly what the killers want?" Jack muttered, a strange unease settling over him. "Most copycat killers imitate a single notorious criminal, either out of admiration or a desire to surpass them.
"But these perpetrators are combining methods. They're using 'Son of Sam' tactics, mimicking the 'DC Snipers,' and now they've added tarot cards to taunt the authorities. There's no precedent for this.
"Also, the previous gaps between murders were two to three days. But now, the fifth and sixth killings were just a day apart. What's driving them to increase their pace?"
Everyone knew the answer: the press conference jointly held by the NYPD and FBI yesterday. The killers likely saw it as a declaration of war.
"Whatever their reasons, they'll pay for their arrogance," Danny said with finality, ending the conversation.
Another day passed, bringing the victim count to six, yet the team was no closer to a breakthrough. Inside the makeshift BAU office, frustration hung thick in the air.
Emily tore a page from her notebook, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the trash. JJ sat nearby, chewing on her pen and staring blankly at her untouched notes. Beside her, rookie Luke Alvez had an equally defeated expression, his open laptop screen showing a Word document with just one lonely sentence.
While such struggles were expected for newer team members like JJ and Alvez, the grim faces of veterans like Rossi and Hotchner underscored the gravity of the situation.
Three days into the case, with no viable profile or substantial leads, the BAU was hitting a wall.
"We're asking the NYPD to search their districts for individuals who take long lunch breaks and fit a dominant-submissive dynamic, like fathers and sons or superiors and subordinates," Emily muttered bitterly. "If I were a patrol officer handed this profile, I'd probably curse us out."
She tore out another page from her notebook, only to realize she'd reached the last sheet.
"The NYPD has already deployed undercover officers to gather gang intel and monitor suspicious individuals. Honestly, I feel like a drowning person grasping at straws," Joyner lamented.
She and Danny, once at odds, now found themselves united under the crushing weight of responsibility.
Danny's bloodshot eyes and irritable demeanor were a testament to his sleepless nights. His usual goji berry tea had been swapped for chrysanthemum tea by Jack, though the floral aroma wafting through the office did little to soothe frayed nerves.
"Do you think it's possible the killers are targeting us?" Reid asked suddenly, his voice breaking the heavy silence.
The others stared at him, startled.
Jack was the first to dismiss the idea. "Your schedules aren't public, and neither Hannah nor JJ mentioned the BAU in their media briefings."
Since the "Boston Reaper" case, the BAU had largely faded from the public eye. Media coverage occasionally credited the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, but names and specific details were never disclosed.
Even those aware of Rossi's return to the FBI would need to comb through reams of federal case files to find details about his involvement in particular investigations.
Reid furrowed his brow, contemplating if he'd overlooked something. Frustration gnawed at the entire team, driven by the mounting pressure of rising casualties and self-doubt.
It was unprecedented for the BAU to go this long without producing even a preliminary profile. Everyone, including Jack, felt like they were missing a critical piece of the puzzle—something so glaringly obvious yet maddeningly elusive.
The room grew stifling as the minutes ticked by. Jack exhaled sharply and stood. "Who's coming with me for a smoke break? I've got a few Cuban cigars left."
"I'm in!" Danny was the first to rise, followed hesitantly by Hotchner. One by one, nearly everyone stood, even Emily and JJ, who exchanged glances before grabbing their bags.
Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud bang.
Garcia stood in the doorway, her face pale and frantic. "Everyone, I've found something. While reviewing real-time surveillance, I think I've spotted the killer!"
(End of Chapter)
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