He handed over his drivers license. She squinted down at it and then back up at him and then picked up the phone. Morgan Stark down here to see you. Says youre expecting him. She listened for a moment and then nodded and hung up. She pointed to a padded bench against the wall. You can wait there. Shell be down in a moment.

Morgan took a seat, letting his eyes wander over the flags one for the Bureau and one for the United States. Across from him was the Wall of Honor with photos and commemorations of fallen FBI agents. He swallowed hard. These people had given their lives to save others. That was a lot to live up to.

Hi, Morgan. Danielle stood before him, holding out a Visitors Badge. Youll need this.

He looped it around his neck and stood. Too late for second thoughts now. Thanks.

She had a funny look on her face.

What? he asked, checking to make sure his fly was zipped or if he had something hanging from his nose.

I dont think Ive seen you in jeans. Youve always been in scrubs or a suit. She motioned for him to follow her and started walking.

Im not sure the last time I wore them, he admitted as he went through the turnstile after her, giving a little wave and smile of thanks to the security guard who nodded at him in return. Scrubs or suits pretty describes the parameters of my life.

Danielle gave a little snort, pushing the button on the elevator. I hear you. I think I have suits and work out gear.

Apparently Agent Hernandez needed to get a life nearly as much as Morgan did.

Up on the fourth floor, Danielle touched her badge to the RFID reader to open the door into the Behavioral Analysis Unit and they walked into a big open room that housed desks and cubicles. About half the desks were occupied. Men. Women. Black. White. Asian. Latino.

Come this way, Danielle said. I have us set up in one of the conference rooms.

The room was smaller and darker. File folders were scattered across the round table in the center and a laptop was plugged into a surge protector whose cord ran across the floor. Hed heard the building was outdated and a new headquarters was being proposed. He understood why now.

Two walls were taken up with boards. One had a photo of Lexa in the top left corner. The other had a photo of a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Of course. Michelle Schultz. The other victim.

The two looked a little bit alike. Both had dark hair parted in the middle and light skin. Both were in their twenties. Did their killer have a type?