Impressions Matter
"4567 Constitution Ave," Rossi said as she read Penelope's message.
"Where does she work?" I asked.
"Capital Buzz News," Rossi replied with annoyance.
"Them again? First, they assault Luke, and now this?"
"They're really great—so great you just want to punch them," Rossi muttered sarcastically.
"If only we could," I said with a sigh. This station had been all over our cases lately, and it was getting so annoying. "You know what? I'm actually excited about getting a new media liaison. I can't wait to stop talking to reporters. Honestly, I can’t believe JJ handled all those people on her own."
"Yeah, well, she's an amazing person, and she has a ton of patience," Rossi said.
I turned a corner, and we spotted a two-story building with people coming in and out. "Here we are."
We got out of the car, and as soon as Rossi caught up, we entered the building. The receptionist looked up and asked, "What can I help you with?"
"We need Evelyn Griffin," Rossi stated firmly.
"I'm sorry, but you can't speak to any of our journalists without an appointment," the receptionist said with an overly professional tone.
I stared at her in disbelief. "What's a joke, right?" Those entitled ass—
"But," she interrupted, "you can speak to our editor... if you want, you know if..." She paused, her words hanging in the air.
"If what?" Rossi asked, his tone edged with impatience.
"If you're going to arrest her," she replied with a forced smile.
"This isn't the first time, is it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She shook her head and picked up the phone, calling her boss.
"He said he's going to see you. Do you guys need help finding his office?"
"No, thank you," Rossi replied as we walked toward the office doors.
"I cannot believe these assholes. Just... wow. Really, wow," I muttered as we found the office. "Mr. Cole March—he sounds like an asshole," I added, earning a laugh from Rossi as we stepped inside.
Before we could even introduce ourselves, the man behind the desk sighed and said, "What did she do this time?" He sounded utterly exhausted.
"She infiltrated the FBI database," I stated bluntly.
"Excuse me?" he asked in disbelief. "SHE DID WHAT?"
"Again... she infiltrated the FBI database," I repeated, this time slower, as if it would make the situation sink in better.
"Megan, get Griffin in my office right now," he barked, slamming the phone down with a force that made Rossi raise an eyebrow.
A minute later, Evelyn Griffin appeared, walking into the office with a smug smile that only made me more annoyed. Garcia wasn't wrong, though—she *was pretty. Her wavy hair and light brown eyes were striking, and she—what? No. Stop it, Prentiss. She’s a criminal.
"You need me?" she asked casually, like this was a meeting about a coffee order.
"These are FBI agents," Cole March said, clearly unimpressed. "They’re here to arrest you."
"For what?" she asked, trying to look innocence.
"Evelyn, don't play dumb," he snapped, his voice firm.
"But really what did i do to get them here", she looked at as like we were the problem.
"You hacked the FBI's database and stole classified information. That's what you did," Rossi stated.
"Oh, that. Okay," she said with ease.
As I pulled out the handcuffs, Rossi showed her the arrest warrant.
"Uh... what do you think you're doing with that?" she asked, confused.
"To arrest you, Ms. Griffin," I stated.
"I don’t think so."
"Excuse me?" God, she really is entitled.
"I mean, there’s no need for drama. I’ll go with you guys. I’m not going to run away—you probably know where I live by now."
I stare at her in disbelief. "Is that a joke?" I ask, unable to comprehend this woman’s audacity.
"No. Can you just—please? I’ll really come with you two without any trouble, I promise," she says, almost desperate.
"Alright," Rossi replies, handing the cuffs back.
We thank Mr. March as she walks ahead. While she enters, Rossi begins reading her rights. The drive back is silent. I was expecting her to be chatty, but I guess I was just lost in my own thoughts.
"Are you sure you don’t want an attorney?" Rossi asks.
"Yes… Wait, actually, can I get a phone call instead?" she requests.
"If you don’t want an attorney, what do you need a phone call for?" I ask, suspicious.
"If you give me a phone call, I’ll tell you everything you want to know," she states confidently.
"Fine," I reply, handing her the phone.
While she dials a number, I call on JJ and Tara to prepare for the interrogation. She hangs up and turns to us, grinning.
"You guys have 15 to 20 minutes to ask me everything. Better hurry," she says with a sly smile.
Who did she call?