Page 2 of Saving Meadow

“There is an opening on my team, SA Winters is leaving. He’s been asked to teach a class on the taxonomy of human behavior. The director and I have spoken at length about bringing you on the team as his replacement. A fresh set of eyes, no bad law enforcement habits to break, no preconceived bias. We can mold you into what we need. I still have my reservations. However, there is no denying you have a natural instinct that cannot be ignored. I’d like you to look at an ongoing investigation and present a profile and full report.”

Before Nick could answer, a manila folder was slid across the table. Nick stopped the dossier with his hand, looking down at it. Once again, his chest filled with pride - Federal Bureau of Investigations: Case File 033077RE neatly stamped on the front. He opened the folder, and his heart rate spiked, and not from the excitement of perusing his first official case. He thought about closing the file and taking a minute to mentally prepare for the image that had assaulted him. He stared at the crime scene photo - a woman lay dead in an alley. Dark hair, age unknown due to multiple stab wounds to her face, height, and weight indeterminable. Nick flipped the image, and the next photograph was worse. A blonde woman, again in an alley; this woman’s face was peeling and blistered, her features and age uncertain. Nick flipped through more pages, all women, all with facial disfiguration; blondes, brunettes, red heads, and black hair. All white, all dumped in the open.

When he got to the last image, he turned it over and looked at the men, carefully studying him.

“Eleven women over twelve months,” Kilby started. “You’ll find the rest of the information at the desk I had cleared for you. I’ll introduce you to the team and let you get to work.”

What the fuck had just happened? Nick gawked at the unit chief and hoped his mouth wasn’t actually hanging open in his stupor.

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Nick stammered. “When would you like the profile?”

“Tomorrow. You’ll present it to the team at 9 a.m.”

Tomorrow? Was Kilby insane? He’d need more than twenty-four hours to properly comb the case and research the terminology and theories he still didn’t grasp. He still had so much to learn, ten years’ worth of knowledge to be exact, that was the average time it took before an agent was considered.

“Don’t over think this. I don’t want a textbook profile. I have four highly qualified profilers that have already worked up a report. I want your gut feeling. Tell me the why. Think outside the box.”

“I don’t know what the box is in this case.”

“The box is the textbook profile, look past it. Tell me what we don’t know. That’s how we’ll find this son of a bitch. Stop thinking like Special Agent Nick Clark and get in the killer’s head; feel it, experience it, what’s the fantasy. Then you’ll have your composite of the offender.”

Wordlessly, Nick stood when the other two men did and followed them back into the central office. Three men and a woman were standing near an empty desk, their conversation coming to a halt as the three men approached.

“Nick Clark this is, Mike Gonzales, Joel Brinkley, Ben Dailey, and Mandy Brown. Your new team.”

And that was the beginning of Nick’s trial by fire and unconventional introduction to the BAU.

1

Deface

Four years later.

“Hey, Nick. Conference room,” Mike told me as he passed by my desk.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I fell into step.

“No idea. Hope you’re not too hungover from last night,” Mike chuckled. “We have a new case.”

I barely resisted the urge to rub my temples now that Mike had me remembering how much I drank last night. Four years ago, when I’d joined the BAU, Mike had been my harshest critic. He also took the longest to accept me as part of the team. While I understood his apprehension, it still had pissed me off, and we’d bumped heads – and that was putting it mildly. I can credit most of my improvement over the years to his careful examination and assessment of my work. Once I’d proved to have potential, Mike took me under his wing and mentored me. He was also my closest friend at the Bureau.

Mandy, Joel, and Ben were already sitting around the conference table when Mike and I walked in.

“Surprised to see you this morning after all the shots you did,” Mandy jabbed.

“Shit, you outdrank Ben last night, and that’s unheard of,” Joel added.

Ben was known to hold his liquor. He also had expensive taste, meaning I’d spent a small fortune last night buying rounds.

“The Boy Wonder has finally grown a pair of balls,” Ben added his two-cents.

Mike clipped me on the shoulder as he took his seat. “Boy Wonder. Haven’t heard that in a while. And to think when we got you, you were barely old enough to drink.”

Over the years, I’d heard it all, but Boy Wonder was their favorite nickname. Mike wasn’t wrong. When I’d joined the team I was twenty-two, the youngest by nearly twenty years.

SSA Kilby entered the room with Kristy, our technical analyst, and the joking came to a stop.

“We have a new case. Local law enforcement has requested our help due to the brutality of the kill - I’ve agreed,” Kilby said and took his seat at the head of the table while Kristy turned on the wall monitor.