Chapter 20
"Even if our victims are dead we can certainly step up our game to give the families some answers. Thank you." Spencer walked away from the delivery of the profile and made a bee line towards the coffee pot. The acrid smell of stale coffee filled his nose but he drowned it out with the sound of sugar granules pouring into his paper cup. It was starting to wilt from overuse. He glanced up to see a woman in a grey pantsuit walking towards him. As his eyes met her face, he scowled and turned away. "Doctor Reid." She called after him. "What?" Her face met his with a look that said that she had become accustomed to his snappiness.
"I just wanted to ask you a question about the proper way to deliver the profile." He let out a small "sure" as he slowly stirred his sugar into his coffee. She pulled out her notebook and poised her pen at the ready. "Does talking to the local officers like they are lazy and don't care motivate them to push harder or does it help them understand the gravity of the situation? Ya know, just for firer reference." He snapped back at her, fully facing her now. "You know, you have a very big mouth for someone that has only been working here for a few days. Every little criticism you have just flies out of your sarcastic mouth. Maybe these officers and agents should care more about finding these victims alive. They clearly Didn't care enough to get the information on the second victim." Her eyes met his, truly feeling the heat of his gaze.
She flipped her book away and put it in her back pocket. "Maybe, hypothetically, they do care. Maybe they are trying their best and don't need Mr. Smart guy from up above telling them how to do their job." She quipped. "At least I'm doing something." He hissed. "Yeah, you are. You're making sure we never get invited back here again. I just heard two agents saying that they aren't going to waist their time with us after this. Good job Doctor." His fingers pinched the bridge of his forehead and in an exasperated sigh, he said "do you talk to everyone on the team like this or just me? Because you seem to barely say anything in front of the rest of the team. You didn't even say anything during the profile briefing. You know what that tells me? You know you're not cut out for this job so you're lashing out at me because you know you're already a failure after only three days."

Her eyes grew large and angry. She looked as though she was going to say something else but held back. "You wanted some advice right?" After the real profilers solve this case, and we fly back, pack up your desk and go back home." He caught his voice as he realized his volume was rising. A few agents were pretending not to glance in their direction.
Her eyes went misty for a moment, but she quickly composed herself. "You just wait and see." She barely more than whispered. She turned on her heel and quickly walked away, heels clicking as she went.
Spencer glared into his coffee for a moment. He was angry, but he still felt a pang if guilt in his chest. When he had cooled down, he sighed, straightened up, and took a step towards the conference room till his foot skidded beneath him. He glanced down and saw that he had stepped on Connors note pad. He reached down and picked up the tiny leather book.
She must have dropped it. He looked around and she was nowhere to be seen. He opened it and thumbed through the pages. He skimmed through her notes and quickly took them in.
As he was flipping through the pages, a small photograph slipped into his hand. It was a picture of a young boy. No more than two or three. He had a bright smile on his face as he held out a rock in his hand. His shirt and arms were covered in dirt. He looked so happy. He looked almost identical to Connors. At least in the face. He had bright blonde hair instead of brown, but there was no mistaking those deep blue eyes. He looked to the back and saw the writing "Patrick's first day at daycare." It was dated for six years ago. He quickly replaced the photo and looked back through her case notes. His eyes raised at her observations. They made a lot of sense. He snapped the book shut at the sound of her clicking heels walking across the bullpen. He followed her across the room and stopped her before she could walk out the door.
"What." She snapped. He handed her the book back and she looked up at him, a tiny bit of surprise in her eyes. "You're right. Come with me." He began walking towards the door. She caught up to him as they walked out into the dry, dusty air. "Where are we going?" She asked. "We're going to the reservation." He responded, not daring to look in her direction.