Jack and Rossi didn't confront Jill Moss about faking evidence. By handing her own hair over as evidence to Rossi, an unspoken agreement was formed.
Since this Denver field office agent was willing to risk her career on a possibility, the BAU team would simply follow the proper procedures. If they uncovered a major case, BAU would retain control, and the credit would be shared, mutually benefiting both parties.
If it turned out to be a waste of time, the BAU wouldn't cover for Moss. The hair would be submitted as evidence, and she would likely be dismissed from the FBI.
It was like taking a shortcut on a mountain hike—either you reach the summit first to witness the sunrise, or you fall off the cliff and meet a tragic end.
Fortunately, it seemed like Jill Moss had bet on the right horse.
The next morning, shortly after Jack contacted Garcia, they received a response.
"Diana Foster, 34 years old, a real estate agent living in the suburbs of Grand Junction. She was murdered five years ago while meeting a client in Pagosa Springs.
Her body was found in the basement of a house for sale. She was naked, raped, and her cause of death was strangulation."
Garcia's voice came through the video call before she switched off her camera, displaying crime scene photos of the victim's body instead.
"Reid, do these burns look like they're from electrocution?" Jack asked, somewhat uncertain, handing his phone to the human encyclopedia.
Reid squinted at the photos for a while, then nodded. "The yellowish-brown dry burns around the skin are characteristic of electric burns. However, I'd need the autopsy report to confirm.
If it's confirmed, it would match the descriptions in the materials. This guy seems to have an unhealthy fixation on using electric torture, as if it gives him a special thrill."
"Hold on... alright, I've sent all the case files to your inbox." Garcia, always cheerful, seemed shaken by the gruesome photos, quickly ending the video call.
Jack opened the files Garcia had sent, flipping through them. After a few pages, a smile appeared on his face. "We can tell Hotch to send the team over. Look at the name of the client Diana Foster was supposed to meet that day. Can you guess?"
"Louis Avery, the same name as the guy who rented the warehouse," Reid quickly found the answer while scrolling through the documents on his phone.
"Wow, that's perfect!" Jill Moss cheered, clenching her fists in excitement.
Rossi, who had just taken out his phone to call Hotch, paused, frowning as he shot her a disapproving look, as though he was beginning to question his judgment.
Jack and Reid exchanged glances, also surprised by Moss's reaction. Her words felt disrespectful to the victim.
The BAU didn't encourage its members to get too emotionally attached to victims, both to prevent subjective judgment from clouding their work and to protect the team's mental health. However, basic respect for the victims was a given. A cold, self-serving remark like that was unimaginable within the BAU.
Jack could understand the anxiety Moss felt, having staked her career on this case. But her overt jubilation at having gambled correctly was a bad sign. If she had this much trouble keeping her emotions in check, she wouldn't last long in the FBI.
Moreover, based on the case files, it seemed likely that Diana Foster was just the tip of the iceberg. The thought of that crematorium blueprint brought Jack to the unsettling conclusion that, even if they caught the killer, they might never find all the victims.
Realizing her misstep, Jill Moss quickly straightened her clothes and hair, then composed herself as if nothing had happened.
It took almost a full day to drive from Los Angeles to Denver, but a plane would get them there in just two or three hours.
By midday, the BAU team had fully assembled. When Hotch arrived with JJ and Emily, whispers and murmurs spread among the other agents.
If there had been any doubt before, it was now clear to everyone—this was a big case.
"Are all the materials here?" Hotch asked, pausing in surprise as he took in the sight of the room full of boxes. The sheer volume had clearly exceeded his expectations.
Jill Moss, now brimming with confidence, seemed like a different person.
"There are also some old items the local police found in the warehouse—books, records, toys... and I mean actual children's toys.
We found a few fingerprints, but none matched anyone in our database."
Before Hotch could give instructions, Jack, knowing exactly what was coming, volunteered. "I'll head to the Norwood warehouse."
He had been cooped up in the dark room for too long, nearly going stir-crazy. Even though Norwood was four or five hours away from Denver, he was eager to escape from the piles of documents.
Hotch nodded. "Take Emily with you and see if you can find any more leads.
Reid, continue analyzing the documents, dig deeper, and use linguistics and handwriting analysis if needed. Rossi and I will focus on the blueprints. We need more details to tie this to any cold cases."
---
A little over three hours later, Jack's F-150 Raptor pulled up in front of a garage-sized storage unit.
These rental storage units were rows of metal containers rented out cheaply, often used by people who were temporarily leaving town or had too many belongings to store at home.
"Ready for some fun?" Emily asked as she pulled open the shutter door, revealing half a unit full of miscellaneous items.
"Huh?" Jack absentmindedly picked up a bundle of thin hemp rope from the ground, staring at Emily with a somewhat dazed expression.
"Oh, is this a competition?" Shaking his head, Jack forcibly pushed away some inappropriate thoughts, feeling uneasy. Was this what happened after spending two days watching explicit videos? Had he been infected by the perversion?
"Let's see who can find more clues. Loser buys dinner." Emily, thankfully oblivious to Jack's momentary lapse, proposed the challenge with a grin.
"Still saving for a down payment?"
Jack knew Emily had been looking to buy a place recently. Although her family was well-off—her parents being diplomats—she didn't seem inclined to ask them for financial help. She wanted to do it all on her own.
The FBI offered decent benefits, but the salary wasn't exactly high. Even at Hotch's level, after taxes, he likely wasn't taking home more than $200,000 a year.
It would be tough for Emily to save up enough money to buy a house all on her own.
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