"It is those we live with and love, and should know who loot us"
— Norman McClain

When Jodi got the call, she hadn't been doing anything even remotely exciting. Naturally. Just laying on her couch watching The Fellowship of the Ring while giving her legs a rest from work, where she had been walking back and forth between Hotch's office and her desk all day.

They hadn't been called in for a case, which she considered a god send, as she spent her Friday catching up on all the paperwork she'd been procrastinating. Then she'd said her goodbyes to everyone, taken the bus home with Spencer, and ordered herself Thai food for dinner. She had decided to give herself Saturday as a rest day, since they theoretically had the day off, and her right leg was a bit sore from all the going up and down stairs.

But when Gideon had phoned, urgently asking her to come in that night, she got herself dressed as presentable as she could and then had thanked Hotch for the call saying he would pick her and Spencer up from their apartments. They all arrived in the parking lot just minutes away from each other, and all made it into the same elevator ride that was mostly silent as they processed what was going on.

"So they've been here all night?" Morgan spoke first, stretching his arms out as the door opened.

"Apparently," Hotch nodded ahead of her.

"Where else would any of us be on a Saturday night?" Elle muttered dryly. "It's not like we have lives or anything."

"Speak for yourself," Morgan huffed.

Only Spencer seemed to be in a genuinely good mood over being called in. "Guys, we are about to meet Max Ryan, the guy responsible for catching the Boise child killer," he grinned. Then he sped up to walk next to Hotch. "Have you ever talked to him before?"

"He's pretty intense, brusque," their boss nodded softly. "Not much of a bedside manner."

"Sound like anyone else we know?" Elle grumbled.

"I heard he was forced into early retirement," Morgan piped in.

"No, he chose to retire," Hotch corrected him swiftly.

"He's written a new book on the Keystone Killer case," Spencer was grinning.

Hotch nodded once. "He moved to Philadelphia to be closer to the crime scenes."

"That's retirement?" Elle gaped as they began walking towards the staircase where they knew Gideon was waiting in the briefing room.

Smiling tiredly, Jodi slung an arm around her friends shoulder. "BAU style," she confirmed.

Sure enough him and another man his age, maybe older, we're standing in front of the projector screen with case files held tightly in her hands. Gideon was dressed as he usually was — a nice button up shirt, dress pants, and thin framed glasses perched on his nose — while the second, much taller man was wearing a suit. She was assuming he was Max Ryan, as Spencer had named him.

"Who in his mind has not probed the black water?" Spencer read aloud, immediately zeroing in on what was up on the projector. It was a crossword puzzle with the quote he spoke of typed along the top of the page. "John Steinbeck, East of Eden."

"Story of good and evil, love and hate," Gideon confirmed as he handed him a paper within an evidence bag.

Jodi crossed the room to stand with him, able to pick out the words tattoo and window from the jumble of letters but not much else.

"There's been some new activity on the Keystone Killer case," Max Ryan declared with hands on his hips.

"New?" Elle repeated with a frown.

"He was in Max's lecture last night," Gideon confirmed.

"What?" Morgan gaped. "He got away?"

"Would we have woken you up if we caught him?" Ryan said, the words coming out in a snarl mixed with a scoff.

Jodi narrowed her eyes at the man and folded her arms over her chest, glancing over at Gideon with a look that told him this man was already wearing thin on her patience.

Gideon responded with one that told her to find more patience and use it. "He handed this letter to the security guard," he began the explanation, turning his attention away from her.

"And he included two drivers' licenses with it," Ryan cut him off.

Gideon continued on where he'd left off. "One is from his last victim—"

"—last known victim," Ryan cut him off again.

Her boss paused for a moment. "Amy Jennings, strangled in 1987."

But her attention was drawn over to Spencer, who was muttering quietly to himself as his eyes scanned over the paper. She pointed out the words that she'd noticed and he shifted his hand side to side as of to say maybe, not once pausing what was going on in his head.

"Do you see something?" Gideon asked him curiously.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "What is the significance of black bra and grey wool socks?"

"That's what Amy Jennings was wearing when we found her," Ryan explained gruffly.

"That's a lot of detail to remember for 20 years," Morgan hummed thoughtfully. "Green River killer couldn't remember where the bodies were buried, much less what they were wearing."

"Some unsubs take pictures and print them themselves so they can manipulate the scene, bring it to life," Hotch responded quietly, disgust lacing each word. "That would explain the level of detail."

Spencer cleared his throat, nudging her elbow slightly while gesturing to the second word she'd found on the paper. "Does no fight and rear window have anything to do with the Jennings case?"

"No," Ryan shook his head. "He entered in through the front door. There's ample evidence that Amy fought him very hard." He paused briefly. "No, he's referring to a new victim there."

"The second driver's license," Elle clarified.

"Carla Bromwell," Gideon nodded.

"Yeah, there is a C Bromwell here in the puzzle," Spencer confirmed.

"Philly PD went to the address on the license a little while ago: found her suffocated with a plastic bag," Gideon concluded.

Morgan was frowning. "Suffocated? His previous victims were strangled. His MO's different."

"He hasn't been killing all along, has he?" Elle piped in.

"It would have been difficult to tie these new murders to the Keystone Killer, what with the change of the methodology and the time that's elapsed between kills," Hotch amended.

"If he'd been active, I would have known," Ryan shut that down immediately.

"It's not entirely impossible for an unsub to switch his MO," Spencer hummed thoughtfully, brows drawn together as he looked over the puzzle again. "The Zodiac Killer went from stabbing people to shooting them."

"Yes, but he wanted to take the credit," Ryan argued. "This bastard didn't do anything in secret."

The briefing room door swung open and JJ sauntered in, two cups of coffee in her hands; one of which she handed to Jodi. "I'd say good morning but, it's still dark outside," her blonde friend muttered through a half-yawn.

Then she dropped a black and white photo on the desk.

"Who's this?" Morgan asked as he pulled the paper towards him.

"Carla Bromwell," JJ answered bluntly and then turned to their boss. "Gideon, can you put on the news?"

He did, and a mans voice ran through the speakers clear as day. "The Philadelphia police were notified late last night of a letter that was hand delivered to this news station. Apparently it was written by the infamous Keystone Killer, who's wanted in connection with the murders of 7 women back in the late 1980's. He also included a photograph of a woman. She appears to be dead in the photo, suffocated with a plastic bag. Now, subsequently police discovered a body in the Overbrook area. But they are not confirming that it's the woman in this picture."

"He works fast," Hotch muttered while taking a glance at his watch.

"It's an understatement, isn't it?" Gideon agreed.

But hitch was already on his way out of the room. "Meet you on the plane in 30 minutes?" He questioned.

"We'll be there," Jodi hollered her confirmation, bumping Spencer's arm to draw him out of his mind that was now focused on the puzzle.

It only took her ten minutes to pull together everything she needed. Something to eat for breakfast...dinner...whatever meal it was. Ensuring everything was in her Go Bag. Her travel mug filled with coffee for when she inevitably finished the one JJ brought her.

Once on the jet she was surprised to see Ryan walk up the steps with Gideon, but chose not to comment on it. Twenty minutes into the flight and the sun was rising, only being interrupted by Garcia connecting to Morgan's laptop to share the information she'd collected. "Philly PD confirmed that Carla Bromwell's been dead less than 12 hours. She was 47."

"Victims are getting older," Jodi muttered with a slight frown.

"That is unusual," Morgan agreed with her.

"Victimology rarely changes," Elle nodded.

"Her hands and feet were bound with flex-cuffs," Garcia continued.

"Flex-cuffs?" Ryan demanded, arms crossed over his chest. "No ropes?"

"That's what they said. They're waiting at the crime scene for you."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Morgan sighed as his way of saying goodbye. Garcia's last like of communication was here if you need me.

"So older victims and a different mode of binding and killing," Hotch clarified.

"Maybe the note just means we have a copycat on our hands," Morgan suggested.

"The copycat who just happens to have Amy Jennings driver's license?" Ryan scoffed at him, and Jodi felt herself staring the man down in irritation. "No. No, it's the Keystone Killer." He sauntered away with the victims photo.

"How are we supposed to work with him?" Jodi hissed the moment he was out of earshot.

"Gideon, he is not even an active agent," Morgan nodded.

"He's here because he knows this case better than any of us," Gideon answered calmly. "We're leading the investigation, he's only consulting."

"Anyone tell him that?" Morgan lifted a brow.

He didn't get an answer.

While Gideon, Elle and Morgan drove in one car from the airport, Jodi sat with Spencer and Hotch. For the majority of the ride her partner was quiet, though she could see on his face it was because he'd become lost in his own thoughts. Where they'd taken him she had no clue, but she just let him be.

When they got to the crime scene they had to be escorted in by local officers as the press had swarmed every available area surrounding the police tape. They had their microphones out, cameras, vans lined up on either side of the street. "This should be fun," Jodi muttered as she slid out of the passenger seat.

"Definitely," Hotch sighed in return.

They put plastic booties on at the front door in order to preserve the crime scene, and she murmured a thank you to the CSI that gave her a hand with hers as there was nowhere she could sit.

As she was tugging on gloves, with Spencer ahead of her and hotch behind her on the stairs, she heard her partner speak up for the first time in quite a while. "What do you think of Ryan?"

"He hasn't changed much," Hotch shrugged once.

Spencer was quiet for a moment. "I think we can learn a lot from him."

"What could you possibly learn that you don't already know?" Hotch chuckled, and Jodi looked back at him with a small grin.

"Hotch," Spencer shook his head with a huff, "repetitive thinking is the death nail for the brain. For complete brain usage diverse stimulation is the key."

They were in the study, and as Jodi wandered over to the desk she found herself looking down at an all-too-familiar sheet of paper. "Anyone feel like doing a word puzzle?" She exhaled dryly, glancing over her shoulders.

"Let's go show this to everyone," Hotch frowned. Spencer picked it up off the table and slid it into an evidence bag as they made their way to the bedroom where the other half of the team was looking over the body. "Found another note," he announced.

"Let me see that," Ryan demanded and was taking it from his hands before their team leader could answer. Jodi snorted quietly at him under her breath, but kept herself calm. "In order for the light to shine so brightly the darkness must be present," he read aloud.

"He's quoting sir Francis Bacon now," Gideon sighed.

Ryan stared at ur for a moment. "I used this specific quote on—"

"—on your book on page 184," Spencer cut him off excitedly. At the strange look he got, which Jodi didn't like, he explained himself. "I read it on the plane."