tell me what to do, Dr. Reid

`p`*wxc`p``p`*wxc`p` "It's okay," Fiona said immediately, "I'm fine. Don't worry."

Reid didn't force it, he just emphasized again that if there is anything that needs his help, you must remember to tell him. Fiona agreed.

That afternoon, she decided to return to Atlanta.

She was sorry that she couldn't help with Julian's affairs, but that was all.She couldn't force herself to care about Julian like she cared about her real father, and there was really nothing she could do about it now.

There was no way she could force the FBI agents to reveal Julian's address—she knew how the FBI's protective detention worked.No one has access to Julian except certain agents.But it also means that Julian is very safe now, and she doesn't have to worry about his life.The only thing she can do now is to wait quietly for this to end before asking Julian the truth.

When returning downstairs to the apartment, Fiona first checked the mailbox on the first floor of the apartment.She first took out a few envelopes, which looked like promotional brochures, and then her eyes fell on a brown paper envelope placed inside.

The envelope was unsigned, not even postmarked, and looked as if the sender had slipped it in himself.

She opened the envelope, and strangely, she poured out many still fresh rose petals and a photo.

——the photo was of a strange young girl with long blue blonde hair, very pretty, and looked 20 years old at most.

Fiona has never met this girl.But those rose petals felt a little familiar to her.She immediately connected those petals with the mysterious bouquet of roses she had received some time ago.She suspected there must be some connection.

Although this incident may seem like a harmless joke, Fiona always feels a little uneasy.She thought she needed to investigate a little bit.

If the person who sent her the roses was the same person who stuffed the letter, what purpose did he—or she—have?Also, who is the girl in this photo?

Fiona put away the photos, she turned and walked into the elevator, and pressed the button for the seventh floor.On the way back to her own apartment, she passed Ore's door, which still had the yellow crime scene warning banner.

She just glanced at it and hurried back to her apartment.The first thing she did after returning home was to find the wrapping paper of the bouquet of roses from the drawer last time. The tape on it was printed with the name of the florist.

Reid once suggested that she go to that flower shop to inquire about the situation. She had investigated the situation of that flower shop when she received the bouquet for the second time, but that flower shop was a chain store with more than a dozen branches in Atlanta. She finally had to give up.

This time she decided to start with the branch closest to her apartment.She went to the nearest branch first and asked if anyone had bought red roses not long ago.

"The best-selling red rose here is the red rose," said the clerk. "A lot of roses are sold almost every day."

"Do you have sales records?"

"We will only keep records of bouquets that we are asked to deliver."

Fiona looked up and saw a camera hanging from the ceiling in the corner, but when she asked about the video recording of the camera, the clerk told her embarrassingly that the camera was just a decoration, it had been broken for several years, and it was almost never activated .

Fiona was not surprised.

With only the name of a flower shop, she would never be able to find the flower giver.

The only useful clues she had now were that envelope, and that photo.The next morning, she handed the photo to Sarah, "Can you help me find out the identity of this girl?"

"It's possible, but it may take a long time." Sarah said, "Who is this girl?"

"That's exactly what I want you to find out," Fiona said. "...This is actually a private matter, so if you don't have time, you can ignore it."

"Okay," Sarah took the photo without hesitation, without even asking why, "I'll check it out for you."

"Thank you, Sarah."

"Don't thank me." Sarah smiled, "If you really want to thank me, just promise me one request."

"What request?"

Sarah hooked her finger at Fiona pretending to be mysterious.

Fiona leaned closer to her.

"I'm going to go to Washington this weekend."

"Washington? Why?"

"My boyfriend works there," Sarah said.

"Boyfriend? I didn't even know you had a boyfriend."

"I met him in a bar last month." Sarah smiled, twirling a ballpoint pen subconsciously in one hand, "so I was thinking—maybe you can come with me so the four of us can come A double date."

Fiona didn't expect such a request.

"Come on, it's going to be fun," Sarah urged.

Fiona finally agreed.She has always regarded Sarah as a friend, so she can't think of a reason to reject her, and she hasn't seen Reid for more than a month.

"Fine. But first I'll have to ask Spencer if he has time."

"Okay." Sarah said with a smile, "That's it."

On Saturday afternoon, Fiona and Sarah came to Washington. Sarah's boyfriend drove to the airport to pick them up.He drives a nice blue Porsche, is reasonably good-looking, and definitely looks no older than 40.

"You must be Miss Mars." He said with a distinctly British accent, and held out his hand to Fiona. "Nice to meet you."

His accent made Fiona feel very friendly in an instant.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Carter," she said. "Are you British?"

"Obviously, huh?" he laughed. "I'm a native Londoner who moved to America two years ago."

"He's a cop too," Sarah said. "It doesn't look like it, does it?"

"Used to be a cop," Carter corrected.

"Yes, it used to be." Sarah added, "Now he's working for a marriage investigation company."

The smile on Fiona's face froze for a moment.Londoner, and once a policeman?

"Oh, you used to work at Scotland Yard?" she couldn't help asking.

"Yes, it used to be," Carter replied, "but I changed jobs. I get a better salary now, and I don't work as hard." He said, laughing self-deprecatingly.

Fiona searched her memory carefully, trying to recall if there was a character like Chris Carter among her colleagues.But there were too many officers in the Metropolitan Police, and it was impossible for her to know all of them, so she finally gave up the memory.

Afterwards, they drove to the predetermined location - a beautifully decorated French restaurant. Carter made a reservation in this restaurant in advance.

Soon, Reid arrived.

He was still dressed in his usual style, a white shirt and knit jacket, which made him look like a college student.

"Sorry, am I late?" he said with a smile.

From the moment he walked through the door, he had Fiona's full attention.She stared at him intently, breathing a little more rapidly.So many things happened recently that she almost forgot how much she missed him. ,

"No. You came at just the right time," Fiona said, her voice a little hoarse.She stood up and gave Reid a brief hug.She couldn't help staying for a second longer, breathing in the smell of his body, and then reluctantly let go of her arm.

"Come on, sit down." Sarah greeted him warmly.

"Thank you." Reid said politely, and sat down next to Fiona.

"I'm Chirs Carter, Sarah's boyfriend." Carter stretched out his hand and said.

"Spencer Reid." Reid quickly reached out to shake his hand.

"I heard you work at bau, isn't that true?" Carter asked with interest.

"Yes." Reid looked a little stiff.

"I have read a lot of books about you, and know a lot about you—especially a profiler named Rossi, who has read all the books written by him." Carter said, he suddenly laughed softly, "Honestly, I'm half a fan of him."

This sentence attracted Reid's interest.

"Really? Actually, I'm working with him right now," he said, with a slight smile on his face, a little boyish showing off.

"Wow," Carter exclaimed, "That's really nice. It would be even better to get an autographed book by him."

Carter probably didn't mean it completely when he said this, maybe he was just enlivening the atmosphere at the dinner table.

But Reid replied very seriously: "Of course no problem, I can get you a copy."

"Thank you so much." Carter said with a smile.

Carter's words seem to have won Reid's favor, at least he doesn't look as reserved as he was at the beginning.

"So the car at the door is yours?" Reid asked suddenly.

"The blue one? It's mine." Carter replied.

"Nice car."

"Thank you." Carter smiled, "So, you are also a car fan?"

"Uh...not exactly. I don't know much about car brands." Reid replied, with a reminiscing expression, "I once helped improve a V-shaped six-cylinder engine produced by a company-so I am very familiar with cars. Interested in."

"I remember you weren't an FBI agent? Don't you still work as an engineer?"

"Oh, no." Reid licked his lips quickly and explained, "That happened when I was still in school... It can only be regarded as a small hobby to pass the time in my spare time."

Carter chuckled, "Oh, my God, dude—your hobbies are really unusual."`p`*wxc`p``p`*wxc`p`

The author has something to say: instead of solving the case, let's have some daily plots. .