CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:
SOMEWHERE BETWEEN
( aka 04x09: 52 pickup )

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

"OUR UNSUB IS A confident alpha male," Emily declared to the crowded room. "He's white, he's between the ages of twenty-five and thirty. He's in excellent physical shape, to overpower women and also to feed his self-image."

"He has an obsession with cleaning," Rossi continued. "He probably works in some service industry wiping up after others, convinced everyone looks down on him."

"His change in himself and his victimology reflects that," said Dallis. She was standing between Reid and Morgan, her hands folded in front of her, the silk sleeves of her pale pink shirt rolled up past her elbows. "He views his victims as objects, as prey that he needs to track down and teach a lesson for being unattainable."

Morgan took over then. "This is the kind of guy who wants to stand out in a crowd. He's taken a class on how to pick up these women, so he'll repeat a series of well-rehearsed lines and mind-games."

"He may be uneducated but he is by no means stupid," Hotch warned. After returning to the station, he'd firmly instructed Garcia to find out everything she could about Viper and his students. He might've maintained his composure in front of Viper but he refused to let him treat the women on his team so poorly and get away with it. "Taking this class has given him the ability to read verbal cues and body language."

"One classic routine that the Viper promotes is the push-pull," Reid said, moving so he was standing between Dallis and Todd, who was seated opposite Dallis acting as the buffer between the team and Detective Harding's officers. "He'll insert himself between two women and, immediately after complimenting one, he'll deliver a subtle insult then pay attention to the other." With a sly grin, he leaned in towards Todd, squinting at the tiny diamonds that caught the light while hanging delicately from her earlobes. "Those are really nice earrings. I like those."

Todd's face flushed pink. "Thanks."

"My grandmother wears a lot of fake jewellery also." With that, Reid turned his back on her so he was facing Dallis, fuelled by the faint laughter that echoed around the room. "So what are your plans for tonight?"

"I'm not answering that," she pointed a finger at him.

He held his hands up in surrender, then returned back to giving the profile. "Ignoring the one woman puts her in direct competition with her friend and causes the other to pursue you more aggressively. I was just demonstrating that, sorry..."

"Mhm," Todd let it slide.

"We've mapped the hotspots he hits and he frequents the same clubs that the Viper does," Detective Harding started to conclude the conversation. "So we need eyes and ears in every single one."

"Circulate the sketch as wide as possible," Hotch added one last instruction. "We need everyone aware that there's a killer out there. Thank you very much."

As Harding started directing her officers with their tasks, the team gathered in the hallway, speaking in low tones beneath the fluctuating volume coming from the other room.

"I think I might just stay home and man the tip line tonight. Clubs aren't really my thing," Reid said to Hotch, who nodded his approval until Morgan cut in.

"Not a chance, kid. I need a wingman."

"Actually," said Rossi. "There is another angle we need to pursue."

Confused, Dallis turned to him but it was Hotch who elaborated. "We still don't know what made the unsub change his victimology. What made him stop killing prostitutes and move into the clubs."

"The answer might be something in Viper's class. But to figure that out, we need to profile the teacher..."

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

No.

They weren't suggesting...

"You need to bait him then," Morgan declared, gazing at Emily. She was yet to catch on, nodding along thoughtfully. "With someone he sees as a challenge."

"We need to study his style up close and personal," Reid agreed with another coy smile. "It's gonna take someone he's already attracted to..."

Finally, Emily's eyes widened in realisation. "Oh." She let out a groan, hanging her head so that her forehead rested against Dallis' shoulder. "Oh, this really gonna suck for us."

"Us?" Dallis echoed.

Emily scoffed. "You're not leaving me to deal with this guy on my own, are you? You caught his eye, too."

Dallis covered her face with her hands. "Fine but you can't blame me if I lose my patience and kick him in the nuts."

"I might just beat you to it," Emily hooked their arms together. "Well, come on then, Dallis. Let's get dressed to impress the Viper."

"The slimy snake you mean," she muttered, glowering at the various expressions of amusement that the men on their team cast their way -- well, all except one.

Rossi stopped her in the hallway outside the precinct locker room. With a shy glance Emily's way, they waited for her to eventually take the hint and head inside first. As soon as they were alone, Rossi let Dallis see the concern that cinched his brows together. His grip on her wrist tightened.

"You don't have to do this if you really don't want to," he said, making Dallis sigh.

"I know but I'm also not letting Emily do this on her own."

"Then just," Rossi hesitated. "Just be careful, please?"

If Dallis wasn't mistaken, he wasn't only worried about her. He sounded almost jealous, too. Resentful of the thought of another man wanting her.

"I'll be careful," she struggled to hide her grin.

"I'm not joking."

"Neither am I," she said, wriggling her wrist until he loosened his fingers and let her intertwine them with hers. "You sound jealous, Dave."

He shrugged. Nonchalant but unable to deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, testing the waters. "Oh, like you were jealous in Vegas? When Morgan mentioned I got married there?"

Dallis swallowed thickly, feigning innocence even when her voice raised in pitch, "No, I don't think so. I don't recall..."

Fortunately, he let it slide with a glance down at his watch. "You should go in before Emily starts getting impatient."

She found Emily standing between the rows of faded yellow lockers. One of them had been opened and emptied so she could fix her hair and makeup in the reflection of a small circular mirror taped to the metal door. She was busy unbuttoning the first few buttons of her shirt but she stopped when Dallis joined her, reaching into the locker to hold out two dresses wrapped in plastic.

"Both are the same size," she remarked, wrinkling her nose as she observed the low necklines of both. "You can take your pick."

"Green, please," Dallis accepted the forest green dress in lieu of the black.

The silk fabric was tight around her chest and waist, clinging to each curve like glue. It came to a stop mid-thigh, admittedly higher than she was comfortable with, exposing her skin to the cold air pumping from the overhead fan. Deciding to leave her hair down so it would cover as much of her shoulders and chest as possible, she was applying peach-flavoured lipgloss to her lips when Hotch called their names from the other side of the door.

Once Emily gave him the go ahead to come in, he poked his head through the opening, just to be on the safe side, then let himself in once he'd confirmed both women were decent.

"You're okay with this, right?" he said, frowning at Dallis when she subconsciously crossed her arms over her stomach.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Emily answered, fixing a large silver hoop earring through each earlobe. "Sadly, I've actually dated people worse than Viper."

"Wow," Hotch blinked.

"We'll have each other," Dallis added, though she wasn't sure who she was reassuring; her boss or herself. "Besides, Morgan and Reid are also going to be in the club."

"That's true," he nodded, yet his eyebrows remained pinched with worry.

Emily stopped and looked at him. "Is something going on with Jordan? You asked me to keep an eye on her, and frankly, I think we've all noticed some tension..."

Hotch sighed. "I caught her in a lie. She cut a corner to get us in with the Holden family."

Dallis grimaced. "Did she misrepresent the Bureau?"

"She misrepresented herself."

Building honest connections was hugely important when it came to the local police officers and families of victims. Without genuine trust, their jobs were made so much harder. More lives were put at risk. Hotch was very strict, unforgiving even, when it came to maintaining that rapport. Even the tiniest lie unsettled him. Better to say nothing than too much, which Dallis understood. And what did it say about Jordan's character that dishonesty came so easily to her? Still, they had to give her a chance to prove herself, and punishing her without remorse would only encourage resentment. It was paramount that the team got along in order to be good at their jobs.

"Huh," Emily muttered. "So how long is she going to be in the dog house?"

"Until she proves she's competent."

"That's going to be tricky if you're scrutinising her every move."

Hotch tilted his head. "Prentiss, you seemed to do okay."

She and Dallis shared an amused smile, but Emily wasn't about to let this go. "I think in order for Jordan to prove she's good at this job, it's not gonna happen under a magnifying glass. You're gonna have to give her the opportunity."

"You have something in mind?"

Emily popped her shoulders in a shrug. Dallis picked up on her hesitation, answering for her, "I think I might."

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

DALLIS DIDN'T DRINK ON the job -- sure, sometimes, she was called into work after consuming alcohol without knowing they'd have a case, but she never sought it out when she was actively working. She needed a clear mind, and even just one drink was enough for Dallis to feel buzzed. She refused to let alcohol jeopardise her livelihood, but boy was it a shame on cases like this. Having to watch Emily flirt with Viper while sober made her want to be sick all over the sticky bartop.

"He doesn't look like much," Todd appraised the man from the stool beside Dallis. Both of them had gotten comfortable at the bar after deciding that Emily would be the one to hook him in. Once they had him right where they wanted him, only then would Dallis and Todd join. They couldn't afford to lose the upper hand.

"Trust me, it's once he opens his mouth and words start coming out," Dallis scoffed, and Todd let out a tentative laugh. "Or, you know, air. Even the way he breathes is arrogant."

"I think I'm about to see that for myself," said Todd, nodding over Dallis' shoulder.

Viper was standing toe-to-toe with Emily, leaning down until their lips were only inches apart. To give her credit, Emily's sultry smile remained firmly in place, but both Dallis and Todd noticed her hands clenched into fists behind her back. They abandoned their glasses of soda at the bar, wading through the crowd to stand on either side of her. The sharp arch of Dallis' eyebrows had Viper stumbling back a step.

"Is this the guy you were telling me about?" Todd leaned her elbows against the table, folding her hands beneath her chin.

She hadn't hesitated to agree when Dallis and Emily asked her to join them. She even offered to curl Dallis' hair, not that they'd had the time. Even now, she was the picture of confidence, maintaining eye contact, keeping her hands steady. In an instant, she'd taken Viper's attention. His gaze darted from each dressed-up woman, unsure where to linger.

"Viper, you've already met SSA Dallis Cohen," Emily said. "This is SSA Jordan Todd from the BAU. Jordan, this is Viper. God's gift to women."

"Wow," Todd chuckled. "God sure has a sense of humour."

Viper drowned the sting of her snide comment with a large gulp of his drink. "You've brought friends."

Dallis pressed her lips together, drawing Viper's attention to the glittery sheen of her lipgloss. "But isn't that part of the fun, Viper? The pushing and the pulling?"

"You promised if we met you on your turf, you'd show us something special," Emily fluttered her eyelashes. "So let's see it."

The conversation continued, eventually settling on the topic of eye contact and what it revealed between two people who were attracted to each other. Viper 'convinced' them to take turns sitting opposite him for just fifteen seconds so he could learn everything he needed to know about their connection. Jordan went first, leaving Dallis and Emily to sit at a nearby table, and then soon enough it was Dallis' turn.

"You see, eye contact is a very powerful gauge," Viper was talking but in truth most of his words were going in one ear and out the other. Dallis refused to back down from his challenge, staring daggers into his soul. "That's why you tend to look away from someone you're attracted to, because you know instinctively what a dead giveaway it is, but your brain goes there anyway. Images, fantasies..."

"Wow, you're right," she gasped, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for good measure. "I am fantasising."

"Oh, really?" He leaned forward, his breath stinking of stale whiskey.

"Really," she nodded. "Fantasising about throwing your drink in your face."

"You can lie as much as you want, Dallis, but your eyes give you away," he gritted his teeth. "They dilate. It's a chemical response we can't control."

Fortunately, Emily returned with Todd in tow, declaring their fifteen seconds to be over. Dallis flicked her eyes down at her wristwatch where she was displeased to find that 'fifteen seconds' had in actuality been a few minutes. She vowed to let Emily suffer for the same amount of time.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"Nope, no change," Emily confirmed what Dallis already knew. "No dilation."

"I guess chemically we're not a match, Viper."

"Only because you have someone else on the mind," he insisted, pointing his drink at her. "Once that happens, the attraction centre in the brain shuts down. Let me guess. Derek, you called him? I should've known that your type is the brainless alpha male."

Dallis merely giggled, neither confirming or denying this. Sure, Morgan was easy on the eye, but that was where her interest in him ended. Yet Viper wasn't entirely wrong in claiming she was thinking of somebody else...

"Your turn," he said to Emily.

She shook her head. "No."

"Are you scared I might be right?"

Her smile cut a grim line from ear-to-ear. "No, Paul, I'm baffled. I cannot figure out what the unsub could've learned from you."

At her use of his real name, not the alias he hid behind, Paul Thomas froze. His carefully constructed defences crumbled. "What do you mean? He took my look, my words. Everything that makes me successful to the opposite sex."

"Really?" Todd scoffed. "Because that guy could get beautiful women to his apartment. I wouldn't let you on my Facebook page."

"Oh, you're on Facebook?" Dallis turned to her, playing along.

"Yeah, you should friend me."

"We can make a groupchat," Emily said.

It seemed like they'd completely forgotten the man who had previously been 'basking' in their exclusive attention, and that made Paul angry. Furious. He snapped his fingers at them, raising his voice above theirs, "I gave him the routines that made him what he is!"

"Huh," Emily frowned. "Must all be in the salesmanship then."

"'Cause we've been watching all the women in the club..."

"And not one of them has looked at you," Dallis concluded. "So who do you really go home with, Paul? Or do you go home alone? Just you and your left hand to keep you company?"

Paul forced a laugh. "Oh, that was really good, ladies! Don't you think I know why you're here? One of my students copies my moves and you're here to get inside my mind."

"You're right," Dallis agreed. "But your mind, Paul, is an awfully dull place. You've given us absolutely nothing to go on."

"Nothing?" he seethed. "Don't you see? I confronted my queen bee a long time ago."

"What's a queen bee?"

"You are. And so is every confident girl in here who's loud when she's drunk."

"The social butterfly," Emily pieced together, sharing a look with Dallis and Todd. "The alpha female."

Paul nodded emphatically. "Every student who's ever taken my class has had one in his life, and the first exercise my students have to complete is to confront their queen bee. It could be the girl who cheated on you, or the prom date who stood you up, but you find them and you squash them."

That was it. Another step on the bridge between one unsub and the other.

Vanessa Holden was this unsub's queen bee, and now that he'd overcome her, he knew no limits.

"I'm calling Dave," Dallis murmured, searching her handbag for her phone as the three women exited the club without so much as a glance back at Paul Thomas. Dallis refused to think of him as the Viper anymore, just as a pathetic, narcissistic man.

Rossi picked up on the first ring, the concerned echo of her name fading with relief once he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Our unsub knew Vanessa Holden."

"How do you know for sure?" Hotch asked in the background.

"It's Viper's first confidence-building exercise," Todd explained. "Find the source of your first rejection and make her pay for it."

"That's why he stopped seeing prostitutes," said Emily. "He took Viper's class and decided to confront Vanessa Holden."

Rossi and Hotch considered this.

"It makes sense with what he said to Vanessa that night. 'Don't you know who I am? Look closer.'"

"He meant it literally," Hotch concluded, then hung up the phone.

As they navigated the parking lot to where Emily had left their SUV, both of the women with Dallis snuck curious glances at her. She pretended to be oblivious at first, regarding the frustrated string of text messages that had taken over her notifications.

DEREK: You told Garcia what Viper called me?? She won't stop texting me 'my alpha male'
DEREK: What the fuck, Cohen?
DEREK: Betrayed

DALLIS: I did warn you

DEREK: And I'm so getting you back. Just you wait.

She merely smiled but it was quick to fade when she accidentally caught Emily's persistent gaze. Oh, shit.

"So," she drawled. "You've got someone else on your mind?"

Dallis glowered. "Don't act like you don't know who it is."

Todd stuck her head over the centre console, resting her elbows on each of their seats. "Do you and Morgan actually have something going on?"

"God no," Dallis exclaimed, and she didn't miss the way that Todd's shoulders slackened as if she'd let out a sigh of relief. "It's nothing, really. Just like the rest of the garbage Paul teaches, right?"

"Right," Emily echoed.

"I don't know," Todd hummed. "Your eyes did dilate when you answered your phone just now."

"Must've been a trick of the light."

The short drive back to the station was relentless. Dallis couldn't escape from the car quick enough, retreating into the bathroom so she could change back into her work clothes. Fortunately, Emily and Todd headed for the locker rooms, allowing her a moment's peace before someone roughly rapped their knuckles against the locked door.

"Cohen, I need you out here right now," Hotch said. "The unsub's kidnapped another victim!"

Austin, a female bartender at the same club they'd only just been at, was taken right outside her work. Somehow, she'd ended up with Reid's number after his and Morgan's night handing out flyers. She promised to call him if she thought she saw their suspect, so when Reid failed to answer and called back, recognising her voicemail, he tracked her phone to a bush outside the club. Security footage confirmed the unsub had taken her.

"Garica, you've got Viper's attendance records?"

"Got it," she declared, her determined face displayed across the computer screen they surrounded. "I'm ready to play the player."

"Start with Robert and narrow down the permutations," Rossi said. "Bob, Bobby."

While Dallis, Emily and Todd were returning from the club, he and Hotch had visited the Holden family again. They discovered that Mrs Holden had fired a woman who used to clean their house after she found her 'strange' son cornering Vanessa in the bathroom when they were kids. Both of them were stripped to their undergarments and Vanessa was quick to claim that she was made to do it, so Mrs Holden took matters into her own hands and spanked the boy who Vanessa's younger sister remembered as 'Bobby the pervert.'

"That gives us twenty-three suspects."

"Do you have access to birth records?" Hotch asked, making Garcia roll her eyes as if her resounding 'yes' should've been a given. "Pull the mother's names and cross reference with work and home addresses in Fulton County."

"Bingo!" Garcia gasped after only a minute or two of searching. "Robert C. Parker. Lives at 932 Pryor Street."

"Pryor's five miles from here," Detective Harding told them.

Hotch led the way outside with everyone but Todd rushing after him. They met Reid and Morgan outside the property alongside the SWAT team sent as backup by Todd. All the lights were off inside except for the one in the living room. Its dim yellow glow outlined two figures. One was kneeling on the ground while the other loomed over them, knife in hand.

At Hotch's orders, Morgan had them through the front door with a shoulder-jam that had splinters of wood flying everywhere. He, Reid and Emily apprehended Robert Parker and rescued a sobbing Austin, whose mouth and wrists were wrapped in duct tape, while Dallis, Rossi and Hotch searched the rest of the house.

Dallis crept down the dark hallway, stilling when she heard the frail sound of someone crying for help on the other side of a door. She rushed back the way she'd just come, finding Rossi and Hotch in the kitchen.

"Someone else is here."

They stormed the room with guns raised but Dallis let hers drop when she found only one inhabitant curled up on the bed; an elderly woman, her hair in disarray, tears trailing down her cheeks. She tugged fruitlessly at the cord that connected her to a large beeping dialysis machine, trying her best to keep her thin body covered with the duvet.

"Who are you?" she croaked. "What do you want?"

"Mrs Parker?" Dallis asked, making her whimper with fear.

"Where's Robert? Where's my son?"

"Everything's going to be okay," Dallis held out her hands. "We're going to get you some help."

"No, please, I need Robert," Mrs Parker insisted. "I need to be changed."

Dallis' heart ached for the poor woman whose whole life had already been upended once and was about to be again. She was careful as she considered her response, eventually settling on, "He's just outside, ma'am. Please don't cry. We're going to send in someone to help you get cleaned up right away."

"It's a dialysis pump, issued ten months ago," Rossi whispered loud enough that only Dallis and Hotch could hear. "We found our secondary trigger."

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

WHEN DALLIS EVENTUALLY RETURNED to her own apartment back in Quantico, it was well past midnight. The building was dark and quiet except for the flickering light bulb above the row of mailboxes in the narrow hallway by the front door. She stopped outside her own, fumbling through her keys until she found the right one. Inside, there were two bills that she glossed over and a postcard.

"Huh," she frowned, gazing down at the bright blue laminate cardboard. Written in large block letters hollowed out to showcase illustrations of a cityscape were four words. "Greetings from Detroit, Michigan."

There was no message written on the back so she discarded it in the bin as just another piece of junk mail, but it played on her mind until she settled down in bed almost an hour later.

She was born in Detroit, Michigan.

What a freaky coincidence.