CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
HEART'S DESIRE
( aka 03x17: in heat )

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

"CHARLES LUVET WAS FOUND floating in a Miami marina last night," JJ said, and a close-up image of a water-logged body appeared on the screen. "Local ME thinks that he was only in the water for about an hour."

"Any attempt to weigh the body down?" Hotch asked.

JJ shook her head. "Doesn't appear to be."

"The dumping could be convenient as opposed to a means of hiding the crime," Morgan remarked.

"Well, he's the third victim found in Miami over the last two months," said JJ as she took a seat at the table beside Dallis, who craned her neck to look at the screen when two more photos appeared of other bodies. Each victim, like the most recent, was male. "Though the locations of the bodies are different, many elements are the same. All males, twenty-five to thirty-five, all travelling, all asphyxiated with no signs of sexual assault."

"But tourists could mean just simple robbery."

"Were any of their belongings missing, Jajy?" Dallis asked.

She nodded.

"He's targeting travellers for a reason," Rossi insisted but he was interrupted by Garcia stumbling into the room, her hair only half-done and her arms cluttered with her bags as well as her files.

"I'm so sorry," she said, staring at Hotch with wide eyes. "The alarm, sir... I overslept... I'm so sorry!"

"Everyone's allowed to be late," he muttered. "Once."

Dallis fought back a smile.

"You guys notice the red flag on the autopsy report?" Rossi regained their attention, for most of the team had forgotten the files in front of them and were instead exchanging knowing looks. Garcia told Dallis she'd had to reschedule a dinner she was supposed to have with Kevin the night before. From the looks of it, Kevin had taken the dinner (and more) to her.

"None of the hyoid bones were fractured," Emily answered.

"No visual signs of trauma, no ligature marks, yet the unsub still managed to asphyxiate grown men."

"Maybe a chokehold?" Morgan suggested. "Wouldn't leave any signs of trauma."

"It would also be a way of controlling a male," Reid seemed to agree with the theory. "A powerful grip from behind gives the unsub all the leverage. None of these victims look out of shape or easy to control. In fact, they all look remarkably fit."

"Well, as I said, the recovery locations are very different," JJ said.

Dallis raised an eyebrow at her. "How different are we talking?"

"Charles Luvet was found in the water, Daniel Brown was partially buried in a shallow sand dune and Paul Hayes was stuffed in a dumpster."

"So no effort was made to hide any of them," she surmised.

"And they were all found in high-traffic areas," Rossi frowned.

"Poses the question of whether they wanted these bodies to be found."

"Miami PD is asking for our help considering there are currently four other men missing that match this victimology." JJ bought up the pictures of four men around the same age.

"I can dig up what I can on the victims from their hometowns," said Garcia.

"See if they've crossed paths at any point," Dallis suggested. "It's definitely a long shot, but they're tourists travelling through the same area. They might've gone on a tour together or shared the same accommodation."

"Miami is a mecca for potential targets," Hotch warned. "And anyone travelling is more vulnerable than they normally would be."

JJ nodded. "Well, case in point. Charles Luvet, the latest victim, he was a vacationing cop."

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

IT WAS A RARE occurrence, but Dallis was smart enough to check the weather ahead of boarding the jet to Miami. After going over victimology, Dallis retreated to the bathroom with her bag, changing out of her charcoal grey dress pants into a short fitted pencil skirt of the colour. With her hair pulled back in a neat braid, she was prepared for the heat that slapped her in the face as soon as they touched down on the tarmac. The SUV provided them some reprieve but there was no escaping it for long.

"Is it always this hot?" Reid grimaced, tugging at the collar of his button-down as a light layer of sweat trickled down his neck.

Morgan had moved to stand at the back of the SUV, staring appreciatively over his sunglasses at two women walking past in mini skirts. "Every day, all day."

"That's South Beach," Rossi had joined him, making Dallis roll her eyes.

"That's not what I'm talking about," Reid frowned at the backs of their gawking heads.

Hotch chuckled. "They know."

"Men," Dallis muttered, driving her elbow into Morgan's ribs.

He winced and attempted to return the jab but Dallis was quick to dart out of the way, sweeping her bangs out of her eyes to get a better look at his sour expression. He was pointing an accusing finger in Emily's face.

"Not just men," he exclaimed. "Women too."

Dallis followed Emily's gaze back to the two oblivious women's long legs. A sly grin tugged at the corner of her mouth as Emily went bright red, muttering a hasty, "shut up."

Fortunately, they were interrupted by a voice calling out 'FBI.' They turned around to find a woman approaching them, her fitted red shirt complimenting her warm tanned skin. Her appearance also wasn't lost on Morgan.

"Yes," he answered with a grin, and Dallis was certain he would've brought out his badge in the hopes of impressing her if it wasn't for the woman introducing herself.

"Detective Lopez, Miami PD."

"Oh..." Giving his head a little shake, as if to remind himself he had witnesses and one of them was his bemused boss, he offered her a lingering handshake. "Morgan. Derek."

She smiled. "Tina." She made no effort to shake the rest of their hands but Dallis figured that if it wasn't for Morgan making the first move, she wouldn't have greeted him either. "Thank you for coming down so quickly." JJ ran her through each of their names. By the time she was finished, her smile had turned bashful. "Well, I hope there's no test, because I'm lousy with names."

"'Agent' will be fine," Rossi assured her.

A car pulled in beside their SUVs, quickly shutting off its engine. Dallis and Emily's heads both turned at the sound, watching as a jean-clad thigh dipped over the edge of the seat, followed by a torso, then the face of a very familiar detective. Even from the other side of Hotch, Dallis heard JJ's sharp intake of breath.

"Hey, isn't that..."

"Detective LaMontagne just arrived from New Orleans," Detective Lopez informed them. "To ID the cop they pulled from the bay last night."

As he approached, JJ's smile turned shy. She seemed aware of every move she made, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear before quickly deciding to move it back into its original place. "Detective. It's good to see you."

"How are you?" Will's eyes lingered on her as he came to a stop beside Lopez. When JJ didn't answer, still staring at him, he nodded at the others. "Yeah, uh, Charlie Luvet and I worked together for seven years. We haven't formally ID'd him yet, but we believe it's him."

"Sorry to hear that," Dallis said, and she meant it.

"So, you all know each other?" Lopez asked, and Will instinctively turned to JJ.

"Professionally," she mumbled, folding her arms over her stomach.

"Yeah, the BAU helped me out on a case about a year ago... but just for the sake of clarity, I'm not here to investigate," he said. "Charlie was supposed to be married this August, except the guy that floated up last night was him. I guess I have the honour of notifying his fiancée, so she's going to need some answers and I'm just here to get that for her."

"Do you know why he was here?" Rossi asked.

"Well, he was meeting up with some college buddies to compete in a regatta," Will said. "He was a big boat guy."

"So he wasn't travelling alone?"

"Well, he came alone, but he was meeting them here."

"We should track these friends down," Rossi suggested to Hotch. "See if they saw anything." Hotch nodded, leaving that up to him, and Rossi turned now to Detective Lopez. "And the two other victims? Any potential witnesses?"

"No," she shook her head. "Paul Hayes was here alone on business. Daniel Brown came down to windsurf by himself."

"So they were all essentially alone," Reid surmised.

"The unsub would've watched them long enough to know that," Dallis remarked, glancing around the bustling streets. A few stragglers stopped to stare at the obvious police presence, but all of them eventually continued on with their days. "With crowds like these around, they would've blended right in."

"Yeah, he's probably somewhere scoping out his next victim," Lopez grimaced. "And I don't have a damned thing to warn people with. Look, why don't you come inside? I've got everything already set up."

As they crossed the road, JJ and Will ended up beside each other at the back of the group. In front of them was Dallis, who could've cut a knife through the tension between them -- whether it was romantic, sexual or both, she wasn't sure yet, but she knew there was something between them left unspoken. The last time they saw each other, something had just clicked, and there were only so many places JJ could've been flying to each weekend. Dallis wouldn't poke her nose where it wasn't wanted (not yet, anyway) but she hoped someday JJ would be coming to her and the girls to pour her heart out.

They hung back in the staircase. JJ smiled and waved Dallis on when she glanced over her shoulder. She hesitated for a second, then ducked through the door, approaching Hotch.

"Where do you want me?" she asked.

He glanced around, his gaze landing on Rossi and Emily, who were following Lopez into another room. "With them, to start."

She nodded. "You got it."

Lopez had lead them into an office where several bagged items had been laid out across a bench. There was a wallet, a passport and other personal items; toiletries, a comb, a pair of cheap sunglasses, some clothes. A few meaningless objects meant to summarise a person's whole existence.

"This is everything we recovered from Paul Hayes' hotel room. It's all been processed, so don't worry about touching anything."

"Thank you," Emily said.

Lopez took this as her cue to leave. "I'm going to take the skinny kid and Derek to the dump sites. I've got my cell and radio, so if anyone doesn't give you anything, you just call me."

"Great..."

Dallis waited for her to be out of earshot, then raised her eyebrows at the others, "Skinny kid? Reid's twenty-six."

"She did say she wasn't good at names," Rossi pointed out.

"Remembered Derek," Emily smirked.

"Wonder how she'll describe us."

"Oh, I'm sure I don't want to know."

Dallis sighed. "Poor Reid. That nickname is going to haunt him forever."

They turned their attention back to Paul Hayes' belongings.

"It's always sad seeing someone's life reduced to the things they had with them when they died," Emily commented. "It's just so clear they didn't know how short their time would be."

"I don't think anyone goes on vacation believing it'll be there last," Dallis commented, glancing across the table and catching the furrow of Rossi's brows. "What is it?"

"Odd."

"Odd?"

"Well, his wife reported that he'd been down here almost a week on business," he said. "Yet he never wore any of the suits he'd packed."

Taking a closer look, Dallis realised he was right. Paul's suits were freshly ironed and folded over a chair at the end of the table. She picked up one of the nearby bags, recalling what Lopez had said about everything being processed already. Inside was his wallet and a smaller rectangular device. His PDA.

"What are the chances they've been able to look through this properly?"

Emily held out her hand. Dallis passed it to her. "There's appointments going back six months, but nothing for the week he was here..."

"Wasn't Hayes wearing running clothes when he was killed?" Rossi asked. Both women nodded. "Well, who takes off their wedding ring to jog?"

Dallis let out a breath. Something told her that Paul Hayes wasn't just in Miami for work purposes.

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

DALLIS OPENLY STARED AT JJ as she shuffled over to her and Emily. She had a water bottle in each hand and another tucked under her arm. She stared at the cap of the one she'd just opened for herself, mindlessly flipping it between her fingers.

"Hey, you okay?" Dallis asked, snapping JJ out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She forced a smile, holding out one bottle of water to Dallis and the other to Emily. "For you."

"Oh, you read my mind," Emily sighed, taking a large gulp as the fan worked overtime above them.

"I don't understand how it can be this dry when it's this humid."

"You sweat all your fluids out outside, then come in to bone dry air conditioning."

"Not quite the Doctor Reid fact I was expecting," Dallis chuckled as she took a sip of her own drink. "But good try, Em." For a moment, the three girls were quiet, listening to the whir of the fan and the faint rustle of papers from surrounding desks. Slyly, Dallis peered over JJ's shoulder at Will, who'd taken up residence in the opposite corner when he realised JJ was in the room. Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise. "Hey, at least we've got something fun to look at. Keeps us on our toes, right?"

Emily's smirk rivalled her own. "I didn't realise Rossi was back."

Dallis paused, lowering her legs from where she'd had them propped up on the table, her ankles hooked over each other. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, please. We're not blind, Cohen," Dallis narrowed her eyes as Emily reached over to pat her arm. "You two are always together."

Dallis lifted her shoulders in a shrug. She didn't know what to say. "Rossi and I work well together. Just like I work well with both of you." The women opposite her glanced at each other, still smiling. "Hey, what was that look?"

"Don't worry your pretty head about it," JJ said.

"I am worried..." She trailed off, wondering what they were seeing that she wasn't. She didn't want anybody to get the wrong impression, least of all her bosses. Maybe it was better to just let it go for now... "But I'll have you know that I actually meant Will LaMontagne."

"You think so, huh?"

She relished in the way JJ's face suddenly faltered. This didn't count as poking her nose around, and a little teasing never hurt anyone. "Don't you?"

"I definitely do," Emily nudged JJ's arm.

"I mean," JJ spared a little look over her shoulder. "I guess he has a... thing."

"Alright, everybody, listen up. The FBI has a profile of our guy," Lopez wasted no time commanding the attention of her officers as soon as she entered the room. Dallis was quick to stand and sweep a hand across her skirt as the others gathered round.

"Okay, we want to stress that what we're about to present is just a preliminary profile," JJ took the lead. "There may be a time restraint here, so we just wanted to give you what we have now. Our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, will start off by talking about the four remaining victims still missing."

Garcia's face appeared on the large screen projected on the wall. Beside her were the pictures of the missing men.

"So," she began. "Two of them disappeared on the same day a few months ago, and then the third and the fourth went missing within the last four weeks."

"We think the unsub is targeting these guys on their travels," JJ said.

"Yeah, and then when the befriending happens, they vanish. However, it looks like there's a connection between our current victims and the men that are still missing. See, two of those four missing men were totally out, openly gay when they disappeared. I saw one of them on SocialCrib.net, that's a social networking site, in a photo with his boyfriend."

Dallis glanced at Will, who stood a little behind Hotch, head bowed beneath the weight of the realisation that his partner of several years had kept something so significant from him.

"Assuming the four missing men are meeting the same unsub, it means he's killing almost weekly," Hotch remarked. "Which also means he may have already chosen his next victim."

"What we need is more information on the movements of our victims before they met the unsub," Emily spoke up. "We have three confirmed victims and four possibles. Some of our other colleagues are out in the community now trying to see if anyone remembers anything about these men. It's also not just the fact our victims were travelling alone that left them vulnerable to the unsub. We believe they may have been looking specifically to meet other men."

"Based on the ages of these victims, we're looking for an offender who is similar to them in age. Mid to late twenties. He's familiar with the area, potentially a local or a long-time tourist, and he may be using their lack of knowledge to build a sense of trust with them," Dallis shared. "He's studying his victims' habits long enough to know what's going to make them comfortable. If he's already aware that they're gay, he might be using well-known places in the area like gay clubs and bars to his advantage."

"This unsub is charming, charismatic, intelligent," Emily listed off her fingers. "He may also work at one of these establishments."

"Given the technique with which he kills, he may have had prior defence tactic training, so he may be a member of the military or recently discharged," Hotch continued.

"He steals their possessions but he doesn't pawn a thing."

"And the fact that he's targeting gay men means this may be a hate crime and/or the unsub may be struggling with his own sexuality."

"Any questions?" Lopez asked her team, and several hands lifted into the air.

It was dark when Dallis decided to turn in for the night. Even JJ had just made her way back to the hotel, leaving only Hotch pouring over evidence, this wall of impenetrable silence beside Dallis. She liked when she was paired up with Hotch, though it rarely happened. He didn't say too much, and sometimes she wondered if he knew how to smile for longer than a second or two, but he was dedicated to everything he did, every word he spoke. She knew that when she shared something, he wouldn't look down on her unlike other bosses. He'd listen, even if she turned out to be wrong.

"Are you going to turn in or are you sleeping in that chair, Cohen?" he asked without looking up from his paperwork.

Dallis let out a yawn she'd been struggling to smother for the past ten minutes. "Night, Hotch."

He chuckled. "Goodnight."

Dallis was surprised to find JJ outside. It was cooler now. The ocean breeze had swept through, raising goosebumps along Dallis' arms as she leaned against the railing beside her friend, who had her head in her hands. Her breathing was shaky like she was trying not to cry.

"Are you in a relationship with Will, JJ?"

She didn't -- couldn't -- look at her. "I don't know anymore."

Dallis sighed, curling an arm around her shoulders and drawing her into a hug that JJ couldn't resist. "Come on, girl. You can stay in my room tonight and let it out."

JJ hooked an arm around her waist and together they set off down the street.

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

THERE WAS ANOTHER CRIME scene waiting for them in the light of morning, as well as another scorching day. Dallis longed to swap her skirt and satin camisole for a bikini and the dingy setting of an alley for the beach, but the time for relaxing was long gone.

"What have we got?" Hotch asked, gazing across at the back of an ambulance where they were loading up the body of their latest victim.

"Male, same age range, and we found Luvet's police badge about half a block from here," Lopez declared, handing the object in question over.

"So the unsub either ditched it or dropped it when he was getting away," Morgan said. "Any sign of Luvet's gun?"

"No. He may be holding onto that."

"Why would he kill out in the open like this?" Reid couldn't help but question.

"He's losing control emotionally," Hotch remarked. "He could be devolving."

"But leaving the body out in plain sight, it's off pattern," Emily insisted.

"He was interrupted," Lopez revealed, earning various responses of shock and surprise from the team.

"Who interrupted him?" Dallis asked.

Lopez nodded her head at a boy of a similar age range to the victims. When he noticed their attention on him, he slowly approached. "A busboy from the bar. Mijito, these are the FBI people that I told you about, so just tell them everything that you saw."

Dallis sighed as a rush of sympathy settled like a stone in her chest. He looked devastated, as one would be when they were only doing their job and they stumbled on someone being callously killed. "Alright, well, I came out here on my break to have a smoke, and that guy was on the ground, and his friend said--"

"Wait," Dallis frowned. "His friend?"

"Yeah, he said he'd just been mugged."

"You spoke to this guy?" Emily asked.

"No, ma'am," he shook his head. He still had the cigarette he was going to smoke tucked behind his ear. "I tried, but he did say that he was a cop, so he took off and he chased after those guys."

"Could you give a description of this cop to a sketch artist?"

The guy hesitated. "No, I can't. I mean, he was a white guy, but it was pretty dark out here and he basically kept running away from me the whole time."

"Was there anything specific about him that you remember?" Dallis pressed. "A mannerism or an accent maybe?"

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth down-turned. JJ lead him aside to exchange contact information. Lopez watched them go. "So this guy is impersonating Luvet?"

"It could just be a ruse he used to get away," Morgan considered.

Dallis tilted her head to the side, coming back to the badge that Hotch kept in his hand. "Ruse or not, we need to identify the latest victim asap. He's smart, so having a witness might motivate him to cover his tracks, but if he's devolving emotionally like we expect, we might be able to track him down with this victim's details."

"Question is, if he is impersonating his victims," said Emily. "Why?"

"Transference," Reid answered, followed by Hotch, "Whatever he sees in his victims, he wants for himself. He hates who he is. He's targeting tourists because he sees them as living a kind of lie, too."

"Could be suffering from Cluster B."

"Cluster B?" Lopez frowned.

Reid started to explain, "A cluster of personality disorders. It's also called the Erratic, Dramatic, Emotional Cluster. An enduring pattern of inner experience and behaviour that differentiates itself markedly from the expectations of the individual's culture. You know, it manifests itself--"

"This guy's a sick dude," Morgan surmised, nudging Reid into silence.

"But something triggers his constant need to escape," Emily insisted. "It could be drugs, sex, something that makes him feel vulnerable."

"What about his emotions?" Dallis suggested. "If our profile is accurate, we've indicated that he could be struggling with his sexual identity. Maybe getting this close to another male triggers a flight or fight response."

They went back and forth a bit longer, then Morgan said, "You know, if the unsub lives in their skin. Odds are, he's living in their hotel rooms."

And identifying the victim became all the more urgent.

When they got back to the station, Dallis decided to call Garcia and see what she might be able to fast-track for them.

"Ciao, pollo mio," Garcia greeted her in a very poor attempt at Italian.

"Something tells me you've got a few words mixed up there. You know, you should just ask Rossi if you want to learn Italian," Dallis giggled, making the man in question raise his eyebrows at her. "Unless you deliberately called me 'your chicken.'"

"I'm going to kill Kevin," Garcia grumbled. "Anyway, what can I do for you, my love?"

"Tell me you've got something, anything, about the new victim."

"You're in luck," Garcia said, typing away on the other end of the call. "Prints belong to a Deacon Rogers from Odessa, Texas. He's got a couple of minor arrests. One for marijuana possession, one for lewd behaviour, which I'm guessing is code for gay in Texas. His credit card shows him staying in a South Beach Hotel."

"Thanks, pollo mio," Dallis crooned.

"Yeah, yeah."

"You got it?" Morgan appeared at her side.

"All yours." She handed him the piece of paper where she'd written everything down.

The search of Deacon's hotel room left them with a hair sample that lead them to the doorstep of Steven Fitzgerald's family. Initially presumed to be a missing victim himself, now profiled as the unsub. What were the odds? His sister helped him escape the abusive fists of a father who didn't believe in homosexuality, which explained a few of the decisions he'd made over the past few months.

They found him posing as Michael Alridge -- another man he killed just after Deacon Rogers -- at a hostel with Luvet's gun in his bag. Morgan and Lopez managed to talk him down, but anything could've gone horribly wrong. Steven had officially hit rock bottom, suffocated in the blur of multiple identities and ultimately despising what really laid underneath.

Dallis watched JJ brood as she and Will said their final goodbyes. He went to leave the police station and JJ deflated like a balloon. Seeing Emily approaching her, Dallis did the same.

"You should go for him," Emily said.

"What?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "You'd make a cute couple."

At last, JJ took the leap. The two women watched her chase after Will, calling his name as a smile also made its way onto Dallis' face. She turned to Emily, who had leaned her head on Dallis' shoulder.

"You know, you'll find that someday too," she stated.

"Hm?"

"I know you want it. The romance books, going out clubbing with Morgan or your brother and ending up with one night stands like Troy--"

"God, don't even mention that name around me," Dallis winced.

"I'm just saying it'll happen, Dallis," Emily moved to stand in front of her. "And I'll be there to say 'I told you so' on the day of your wedding. I'll be your maid of honour, of course."

"Oh, of course," she chuckled, but her heart longed for the possibility. "I love you, Em. Have I told you lately?"

"Only all the time," she said, holding out her hand. "Now, do you wanna spy on JJ with me?"

"She finally admitted it?" They heard Reid say as he and Morgan joined them. "What's it been, like, a year?"

"Something like that."

As Dallis and the team finished packing away their things, Dallis' phone lit up with a text from Mei, who was not long back from London.

MEI:  Hey, Dallis, I think I might have a case for you in Camden, Florida. What do you think of this?

Attached was a photo of what looked to be a hand-written letter.

Dearest new neighbour at 32 Belcourt,

Allow me to welcome you to our neighbourhood...