Note to Reader: No sex in this one...sorry.
*
Dr Spencer Reid stared at the photograph taped to the white board. Even almost fifteen years later he would recognize her: Alexa Lisbon. She had been his first crush. He was barely twelve years old, but thanks to his exceptionally high IQ and his didactic memory he was promoted to high school. His mother had been going through a particularly bad period with her mental illness; so deep in her disillusions and depression that she had rarely noticed his presence.
It was a day he could never forget. Barely a month into his high school experience and head cheerleader Harper Hillman had passed him a note that Alexa wanted to meet him after school by the field. He could hardly believe it, but in his innocence followed the instructions in the note. Alexa was after all his lab partner in chemistry; perhaps she needed some help with the assignment that was due on Monday. He had no reason to doubt it after all. Although she was a cheer leader, the step-daughter of the football coach and one of the most popular kids in school; Alexa had always been kind to the gawky little kid, who had not yet quite entered puberty even. He had even held out a faint ray of hope that perhaps in some small measure his infatuation was reciprocated.
Until that day, when he had arrived at the practice field just as the sun was beginning to set behind the mountains. It was beginning to get cold already. Even in late September, Las Vegas was after all a desert: hot in the day and cold at night. The field at first appeared abandoned. He had waited a few minutes and was turning to leave when out of the shadows of the stand stepped Harper Hillman, Alexa's older brother Troy and most of the football and cheerleading squad. Troy had begun the taunts about the little nerd having a crush on his baby sister. The rest had joined in the verbal assault.
But it had not ended there. They had striped him and tied him to the goal post like some prize. Then as if the humiliation was not enough, Harper had pushed Alexa from out of the back of the crowd somewhere. Troy had wrapped his man size arms about his little sister's shoulder and asked, 'So little sis, what you think of your genius boyfriend now?' Staring at Spencer he had laughed, 'Good thing his brain is bigger than other things.' Alexa had simply stared for a moment in what appeared to be shock before they had all dispersed, dragging her with them and leaving him tied naked to the goal post.
It had taken him hours to free himself from the ropes and gather his clothes that they had cruelly tossed high into the stands, trees and anywhere they thought might prove difficult to retrieve. Then he had walked home through the Las Vegas night lit as it was with the neon of the strip. It was after midnight before he made it home, but his mother had not even noticed. He spent that weekend in his room; shame and fear had eaten gapping holes into his young soul. He was lucky though. Within a few weeks, it was decided that not even the high school curriculum was challenging enough for the boy genius. He was relieved to be away from there...and off to completing his first bachelor's degree.
As he stared into the clear blue eyes that had once danced with laughter over chemistry and some silly joke, he was struck by the irony. Alexa, his Alexa Lisbon, was the fifth victim of what was being called the Hen House Ripper; a sadist who took pleasure in kidnapping, torturing and eventually murdering the top drawing attraction at the brothel of that name. The top earner each week had her name placed in lights on the neon board; for over a month now that honor had become a death sentence. If the killer held to his pattern, Alexa would be the next victim in a couple of days. She had been gone for four days now; the killer always disposed of the body on day six, moving onto the next victim the next day.
He stared at the picture of the blonde beauty, who he knew was almost thirty now; almost three years his senior. He looked too at the pictures of the other four victims. The profile had been given that morning: a sadistic rapist and murderer, a male between the age of thirty-five and fifty, familiar with the area and likely a regular customer of the brothels. Dr Spencer Reid knew that logically the profile fit the crimes, yet something bothered him. Something was not quite right with it. They were missing something.
***
Alexa came awake slowly in the cold, damp of the basement that had been her home for the past few days. She had tried very hard not to lose count, although without windows or a clock it was hard to do. But she knew the pattern; on day six her body would be found near the Hen House, just like all her friends. If she could not come up with a plan to stop her tormentor. By her count it was day four, she had two more days to think of something...at the most.
Looking about the cool stone walls, she put all her efforts towards finding a solution. Despite what people might think, Alexa was no dummy. She was though the unfortunate victim of a string of circumstances that had driven her to choices others might not have made. First, it was the death at age twelve of her beloved father, a state trooper in the line of duty. Then her mother had re-married barely a year later to the man that had once been his partner and was now the local high school football coach; a man who regularly beat and abused her mother for years.
Even the one bright moment of her youth had been stolen from her. His name was Spencer Reid. Even though he was younger than she was, for the first time she had found a friend with whom she could share her own genius. Even his silly jokes that only she seemed to understand had made her laugh; something she had not done much of in a couple of years. But it was not to be. Her step-father had encouraged her older brother, best friend and the others to play a cruel joke on him, using her as bait. The truth was though that it was less about tormenting the young boy and more about getting her back into control. So in the end, she had stayed far from him...to protect him as she had tried to do with her mother and younger brother and sister.
Not even the brief escape to UCLA had succeeded in breaking the bonds of dysfunction that held her to this place and her family. Another brief bright moment had been when her mother and siblings travelled to Los Angeles to watch her graduate with honors in psychology. She had hoped not only to eventually help others, but also to one day understand herself and her family. She had been given a scholarship to pursue her doctorate at Stamford in the fall. But it was to be the last time they had all been together.
Troy had joined the Marines. After watching her walk across the stage to receive her degree, they had travelled to San Diego where he would be completing basic training. For the first time since her mother had re-married Alexa thought she glimpsed the care-free young man that he had once been. But over the years, like his sister, he had taken to trying to protect his small family. His ways though were different. Where Alexa would confront and fight her step-father, he would try to placate. He would do anything to please the man: win the big game or even bully a young genius, who just happened to have a crush on his sister. But once again, her luck was short lived. Troy was killed eight months later in Iraq.
Her mother had never fully recovered from this additional loss. Alexa had noticed when she visited during breaks that her mother was thinner, the lines on her pretty face were deeper, and she had even more of the nasty purple and green bruises. When her mother became pregnant later that year, Alexa had hoped that she might rally for the baby's sake. Her lovely baby sister, Katrina, had been only six months old though when her step-father had snapped. He had beaten her mother to death in front of her seven year old half brother.
Alexa had left Stamford half way through her doctorate program in childhood psychology. She had returned to Las Vegas to fight her step-father's family for guardianship of her young brother and sister. In the end she had won, but she found it difficult to manage the demands of two young children, one still a baby actually. It was almost impossible to find a job that would allow her adequate time to care not only for their physical needs but their extremely battered young psyches. Working nights had been the solution she found most manageable. In her first year back, she had been a waitress, black jack dealer, and even tried her hand at being a show girl.
