I woke up, dizzy, but able to stand. I checked my phone and it had only been two minutes since Garcia had texted me - no one needed to know I had passed out. I briefly checked my face and lower arms for any injuries, and didn't see or feel any, so I hurried down the pathway into the main park area and bought three muffins from a food stand at the entrance of the park. I ate one immediately, and felt instantly better - no longer like I was wobbling. It took me about ten minutes to find the meeting spot Garcia had sent me the address of, and I ate both other muffins along the way, so although I felt a bit stuffed, I felt substantially less exhaustion, and the burn in my stomach I'd managed to ignore for most of the day was gone. I wasn't the last one to arrive, so thankfully no one would ask any questions or engage in any playful ridicule for my tardiness. Morgan was the last to arrive, and out of the corner of my eye I watched as his gaze passed over my much improved demeanor and he seemed to relax a bit.

I wasn't prone to going so long without food that I'd pass out - it was a rare occurrence, to say the least. Sure I was thin, and I could certainly stand to eat and drink a little more, but this was a rarity. I made a mental note to myself to at least manage two small meals a day, not just coffee.

Garcia began briefing the team on what intel she had managed to gather. "Alright my lovelies, here's what I've got so far: there are two people who fit the physical description of our unsub, one is named George Robertson and the other Alex Jones. George was recently fired from his job as a florist, which would cut off his supply to the white roses, so it's likely he is not our unsub, but I'm keeping tabs on the websites he visits and his general movements. If he visits a shop known to sell white roses, regardless of whether he makes a purchase, we'll know. As for Alex Jones, he's our prime suspect. His flower shop has been losing more money than it's gained over the past month, and the amount of money lost would account for nearly thirty-six stolen bouquets, while only eight victims have been found. Either he's saving them for the future, maybe preserving them somehow, or he's already committed thirty-six total murders. Either way, I'm pretty confident he's our guy."

Morgan frowned and looked up from the paper Garcia had handed each of us at the door. "It says here he reported a suspected robbery, noticing 36 missing bouquets of white roses. Why would he report them missing if he was the one doing it? Wouldn't that just draw attention to himself?"

Garcia frowned. "I noticed that too. It's possible he's trying to divert suspicion by cooperating with the cops?"

Here, Emily took over. "Well, let's first test each of the bouquets we've found for preservative chemicals. If we can identify the substance the unsub used, we can figure out where he got it. It's seeming like either Alex or George could be our unsub as each have their own suspect behaviors, but before we pass judgement we need more information."

Here, I spoke up. "Could we organize a bugged interview at the local police department about the missing roses? Introduce it as questioning him about a complaint he made, but guide the police officer in terms of questions to gauge how convinced Alex is with his lie, if it is one? We can't question him ourselves yet or he'll start being more careful, assuming he's our unsub. This way we can catch him off guard."

Emily nodded. "Good, Garcia can you arrange that? Morgan, take the roses from evidence to the labs to be tested specifically for preservative chemicals, then give that info to Garcia to trace the source of the chemicals. Let the lab workers know that the unsub's accent is Germanic or Dutch in nature to ensure they don't restrict testing to only preservative chemicals found in the United States. JJ, look through both Alex and George's travel records to see whether either one of them have travelled out of state or country in the last two months, Reid, you watch the police interview with an earpiece and guide the officer's questions. Record Alex's responses and report back with your opinion and a transcript of the interview, if you can in time. Let's go."

I got up quickly and walked to my desk, since I had nothing really to do until Garcia called saying she had set up the interview. I pulled out a notepad and decided I would begin working on a list of questions that might reveal whether he was lying.

1. What is the name of the shop you work at?
2. Could you describe the general attitude of all currently employed persons at the shop?
3. Would you say that their attitude was the same or different of past employees? (If different, ask why/who) (If he does not know, move on)
4. How much, on average, do your fellow employees get paid?
5. How much do you get paid?
6. Would you say you are as happy as your fellow employees with your salary, less happy, or more happy?
7. Have any angry customers threatened you with violence?
8. Have any of your fellow employees expressed negative emotions towards you or your employment status at that company? (Does anyone dispute your hiring)
9. Have you expressed any negative emotions towards other employees?
10. Have you personally or broadly offended any customers that visited your shop?
11. Do you believe you know who it is that stole the flowers?
12. Do you know which employee would have locked up the shop on the day the robbery would have occurred? (If not, move on, if so, request the name)
13. Does the name George Robertson mean anything to you?
14. Do you have an alibi for the night of the robbery?
15. Do you ever work shifts with another employee?

I stopped there, satisfied for the time being in the list I had formulated. A headache was beginning to form at my temples and I had to force myself to stand and get a cup of water instead of making a beeline for the espresso machine. After three cups of water it had dissipated almost entirely, and about ten minutes after that I got a text from Garcia saying they organized the interview for a half hour from then. Admittedly, water seemed to be a better cure for a headache than coffee, but I stopped to grab a few advils to bring with me if I got a headache during the interrogation. It took almost fifteen minutes to arrive at the police station, and by then Alex had arrived at the station and was sitting at the interrogation table. I met up with the officer who would be interrogating him, Tam Jones. Tam seemed young, and had short black hair groomed to look tidy and casual. I quickly introduced myself, and gave him the earpiece we would be using to communicate.

"Here's how this interview will work: I'll say the questions you need to ask through the earpiece. I'll be watching the interview this entire time so if anything comes up we can adapt accordingly. If you need me to repeat a question, scratch the back of your neck five times. I'll be watching Alex's facial expressions throughout the interview, recording and taking notes on his answers. If at any point you feel that the interview is getting out of your control, or that something else has gone wrong, cross your fingers behind your chair. Upon that signal I'll send someone in to intercept with some excuse for needing you outside. Does that all make sense to you?"

Tam nodded, and seemed fairly confident in what I had proposed. Usually I wouldn't suggest so many signals and specific rules for an interrogation, but Garcia had told me Tam was new to the force, and hadn't encountered many murder cases yet in his time working. I hoped to maintain his confidence throughout the interview, so that if Alex was our unsub, he wouldn't manage to get in Tam's head.

After a few more minutes of confirming our strategy, Tam went in the interrogation room and I went behind the two-way mirror to watch the interview.

"What is the name of the shop you work at?" I said, and Tam repeated the question to Alex. This was to establish a baseline of his body language and dialect.

"It's called Roses and Lilies." Alex responded. His answer was not enthusiastic, but not rude or standoffish. Essentially, it was what you would expect from someone who was telling the truth - answering plainly and without particular unusual passion or upsettedness.

"Could you describe the general attitude of all currently employed persons at the shop?"

To this question, Alex shifted a bit in his seat, which I took note of. "Depends on who you ask I guess. Most people feel how you'd expect - aren't super passionate about being florists, but aren't unhappy."

I noted that it was possible he wasn't telling the whole truth based on his apparent discomfort, but that his answer seemed relatively straightforward without any breaks to contemplate his answer.

"Would you say that current employees are happier, less happy, or equally happy as past employees?"

Alex paused for a moment to think, which I noted, although it was likely him genuinely thinking about whether the employees felt better or worse about their positions. "Probably about the same, although I've only worked here for about three years and not many people have been fired or quit in that time."

"How much, on average, do your fellow employees get paid?"

"Probably about $15 an hour on average, some more some less depending on how many days in the week they work."

"How much do you get paid?"

"$15 an hour. The average." I noted here that his answer had a touch of anger or contempt, but that the anger could be easily attributed to the repetitive question and was miniscule.

"Would you say you are as happy, less happy, or more happy with your salary than your fellow employees?"

"I dunno, I guess as happy? I make enough. Could stand to make more, but hey, couldn't everyone?"

"Have any angry customers threatened you with violence?"

"No. I guess like any retail position you get some crazies, but floristry is a relatively calm business."

"Do any of your employees dispute your position?"

"If you mean are they upset with me or my being employed, no. I'm friends with pretty much everyone there, or at least friendly."

"Do you dispute any of your fellow employees' positions?"

"Nope. Everyone there is a fine person."

"Have you personally or broadly offended any customers that have visited your shop?"

"Not that I know of." He looked away for a moment, where his gaze had otherwise remained steady, which I noted as an anomaly.

"Do you suspect any one person for stealing the bouquets from your shop?"

"No, I don't. I don't know who would steal flowers, really. It's odd." I noted that there were no anomalies in body language nor pauses in his voice, indicating that he was confident in his answer.

"Do you know which employee locked up shop on the day the bouquets were stolen?"

"No, I had the shop closed for a few days so it could've been any day within almost a week. And I dunno who locked up shop before it was closed."

"Does the name George Robertson mean anything to you?"

His head jerked upwards slightly before looking back downwards towards the table where he had been for most of the interview. I made note of that. "No. Never heard of him."

"Do you have an alibi for the night of the robbery?"

"You can ask my wife, I was home."

"Do you work shifts with other employees, or only by yourself?"

"Usually only by myself, but occasionally with other employees. There aren't usually more than two employees in the shop at once though."

Tam thanked Alex for his time and instructed another officer to escort him out, saying they'd be in touch as soon as they had more information. After Alex had left I thanked Tam for his help and said that we'd reach out with the results of the case or if we needed help with anything else. My role in the investigation, at least for now, was relatively simple. It wasn't hard for me to relay information back to the rest of the BAU, and I didn't have to do any analysis myself yet.

Once each member had fulfilled the obligations that had been previously assigned to them, we gathered back to our meeting place, preparing to summarize whatever information we had gathered.

Morgan began to speak first. "First off, we tested the flowers for preservative materials in the United States. While there were some ingredients present from common homemade preservative recipes, there was one main ingredient we were able to trace back to a german iris cut-flower preservative, so of german descent presumably, which contained sodium nitroprusside, a chemical that was found on each bouquet on every scene."

"We also dusted the tags with what we thought were initials for prints, and although we found no fingerprints present, I'm fairly confident that those letters are not initials, but rather the brand for the flower tags that the unsub bought, perhaps specifically to try and lead us off their trail. We looked for shops in the area which sold tags with the let's H. P on them and found that one brand, the extended abbreviation being Happy Projects, sells miscellaneous stationary supplies and other arts and crafts supplies like the tags. The shop is online, not in stores, so we figured Garcia could look through the store's purchase logs and see who fits the profile that might've bought bouquet tags. We gave that info to Garcia about an hour ago."

Here, Garcia jumped in. "Yup, and I've found a match for two people, one George Robertson and one Sean Mitchell. Considering George is already a top suspect, I think it's quite likely that George is our guy.

"I agree with Garcia," JJ chimed in. "I looked through the travel records of George and Alex, Alex had taken a trip to a resort in Mexico about a year ago, but George had visited Europe about four months ago. It's unclear whether he visited Russia as it seemed he worked very hard to minimize his paper trail, but he has definitely been to Europe, and most likely visited France while he was there."

Emily nodded, taking in the information she had been presented before turning to me. "How did the interview with Alex go?" I looked at my notebook and began to recite what I had gathered from the interview.

"Generally, Alex seemed that he knew a bit more than he cared to say. He seemed a bit angry about how much money he made from the shop, and according to Garcia's research on him he took on a second job to pay for his apartment. That could be a motivator, but he seemed genuinely unsure of who stole the flowers from the shop. His body language showed an anomaly in regards to whether he had ever offended someone to his knowledge, but that's not enough to make me think he's our unsub. More likely, he's had a fight with someone he would care to keep private from the FBI. George seems more like our unsub than Alex."

With that, Emily nodded. "Alright. We've already acquired a warrant for his arrest - let's move."

I felt my headache begin to return and wanted desperately to make a beeline for the coffee maker and relax for just a moment, but that wasn't going to happen now. It was just a headache, it had to go away at some point.

Morgan approached where I had grasped the table subconsciously. We were the only ones still in the room - everyone else had left in a hurry to gather their things to leave.

"Reid, you good man? You can stay here - you don't always have to come with us."

I shook my head. "No no, I'm fine. Just a dizzy spell."

With that I left the room, heading to my desk to gather any supplies I might need. I ignored Morgan's questioning gaze, a mixture of concern and doubt covering his features that he made no effort to hide. I almost rolled my eyes, but it hurt to do that, since my lack of sleep had really been getting to me. I recalled my earlier muffins and thought about them longingly as we got into our respective vehicles, preparing to find George Robertson. According to reports he was in his home right now, alone as far as anyone could tell, which was ideal. A hostage situation was less than helpful for these types of missions, and usually didn't end with the hostage being totally fine.

I muttered a quick sorry to Tobias, barely out of the earshot of Morgan, before I shook away the thought of his face and focused back to the task at hand. George was the target. We needed to find and apprehend George.

Until it clicked - it wasn't George who killed them at all.

A/N: Hey everyone! My updating 'schedule' is entirely unreliable, I admit it. :/ I really would love to be able to update this story every day, but that isn't super realistic since I'm working to make each chapter longer and better than if I would rush it to be once per day. Plus, I've never written a story about crime before, lol. This chapter is less focused on Reid than the others will be, just so I can further the plot of the case, but don't worry - it'll be much more focused on Reid soon. If you're a criminal minds fan and are confused about the timeline, all I can say is I'm sorry - I've only recently gotten into the story and the timing of this fanfic is somewhat ambiguous by itself. I hope you can still enjoy the story and any suggestions are very much appreciated!