Chapter 35: Your Extra
"It would be great if Cory was still around."
One of the tribal officers couldn't help but comment.
"Cory?"
Jane looked over questioningly.
The female sheriff's expression tightened.
"Cory Lambert."
The officer glanced at the female sheriff and explained, "He works for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service here in Wind River Valley. He's an incredible tracker and hunter—great at investigation too. If he was still around, he'd definitely be able to track down the actual crime scene."
"Where is he now?"
Jane couldn't help but ask.
"No clue."
The officer looked at the female sheriff again, shook his head, and said nothing more.
Jane studied the female sheriff's face. She could sense there was history between this tracker and the sheriff.
"Last I heard, he re-enlisted,"
the female sheriff said with a blank expression. "He's a veteran—Army Special Forces."
Jane nodded, staring out at the endless white landscape, feeling completely lost. Back at the motel, she poured herself a shot of whiskey to warm up. After wracking her brain with no breakthrough, she suddenly remembered a calm, detached face. She quickly got up and started searching through her things. She pulled out the business card Chuck had given her, stared at the "Private Investigator" title on it, hesitated for a long time, then knocked back the whiskey and picked up her phone to dial.
It was three in the morning.
There was a knock at Jane's motel door, jolting her awake from deep sleep. She walked to the window, pulled back the curtains, and peered out. She saw a tall figure standing outside. Looking closer, it was definitely Chuck.
"Come in,"
Jane hurriedly opened the door to welcome him.
Chuck stepped inside.
"I'm so sorry for dragging you out here on such short notice. I really didn't know what else to do,"
Jane said apologetically, looking at the snow covering Chuck's jacket.
"I gave you my card,"
Chuck said bluntly. "This kind of situation is exactly what I expected. I only have one requirement."
"What's that?"
Jane was caught off guard.
Because of the federal per diem rate, the motel had the heat cranked up to tropical levels. She was no longer wearing the bulky winter gear from earlier, but a fitted sweater and jeans that showed off her curvy figure.
In response to Chuck's words, whether it was the cold air from the open door or a woman's instinct for self-preservation, she instinctively crossed her arms and pulled her sweater tighter.
Then she realized she'd completely misread the situation.
Chuck looked directly into her eyes and said, "I expect you to learn fast. Eventually, you should be able to handle straightforward cases like this on your own without calling me. What I'm interested in are complex, challenging cases."
"You call this straightforward?"
Jane frowned. "An innocent girl was murdered and left to die in the snow!"
"Fine, let me rephrase that—this type of routine case."
Chuck nodded. "Instead of wasting time nitpicking my word choice, you'd be better off focusing that energy on the actual case."
Jane paused, realizing she really had been nitpicking, but having Chuck call her out so mercilessly still stung. She pushed back defensively: "You haven't even looked at the case file yet. How can you possibly claim this is routine?"
"It's basic detective work. Someone committed a crime, and it can't be that hard to identify suspects in cases like this."
Chuck looked at her steadily. "This remote location, this small population—how many people could possibly fit the psychological profile?"
"..."
Jane was speechless, but quickly zeroed in on the important detail: "Psychological profiling? You can do that? Like our FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit?"
The BAU—Behavioral Analysis Unit—was the FBI's elite division specializing in the Bureau's most challenging cases, primarily analyzing the behavioral psychology and crime patterns of serial killers and predators, hoping to predict their next moves before they struck again and coordinating with local law enforcement for arrests.
During rookie training, she'd heard instructors share legendary stories about that department.
For any agent serious about making a real impact, the BAU and criminal psychological profiling were like the holy grail.
Just look at the application numbers for BAU transfers every year—it was like competing for Harvard Medical School.
Plus, BAU had their own jet for immediate deployment anywhere in the country, unlike regular agents who had to fly commercial and deal with flight delays.
Perks equal prestige!
"If you want to be a decent investigator, you need to learn these skills,"
Chuck warned. "And you shouldn't drink on the job. Alcohol dulls your reflexes in the short term and impairs your judgment. Long-term, it affects cognitive function. Solving cases requires sharp thinking, and even more importantly, staying alert to constant danger. Without that awareness, someday you'll go from being the detective helping victims to becoming a victim who needs help."
"I was just trying to warm up... Okay, point taken."
Jane started to explain that she was freezing, but cut herself off mid-sentence and decisively admitted her mistake.
"Get your gear on, let's move!"
Chuck glanced around the room, issued his warning, and headed back toward the door.
"Where are we going?"
Jane grabbed her newly purchased winter coat and hurried after him.
"To the station. The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner I can get home. I've got classes on Monday,"
Chuck said.
Jane followed him wordlessly, taking his cue to get into the passenger seat of his rental car and giving him directions.
"Are you really that confident?"
Jane asked, glancing at Chuck's composed expression as she navigated for him.
"Are you confident you can breathe and walk?"
Chuck shot back as he drove.
"...I've never met anyone with your level of self-assurance,"
Jane sighed, getting Chuck's point.
"That's because you haven't been around enough,"
Chuck shrugged.
Jane hadn't even encountered young Sheldon yet, so she had no idea what truly arrogant and self-absorbed people looked like in this world.
The two drove to the tribal police station.
The lights were still on—clearly someone was pulling an all-nighter.
Jane got out of the car and walked ahead, about to lead Chuck inside. When she noticed Chuck had stopped and was staring at her, she asked with confusion, "What's wrong?"
"Is that price tag still on there?"
Chuck stared for a long moment, then asked slowly.
"..."
Jane was completely baffled.
What the hell was he talking about?
"Are you one of those people who keeps tags on everything?"
Chuck asked again.
"What are you even talking about?"
Jane was exasperated.
Are all geniuses this weird and impossible to understand?
No wonder her aunt kept trying to set her up with "normal" guys.
Dating someone like this would be like playing Russian roulette with your sanity.
"It's like buying designer clothes but leaving the price tags on, because once you remove them, it's harder for people to know how much you spent. That way, no matter how expensive the clothes are, they look no different from discount store bargains."
Chuck explained. "As long as you keep the tags on and display the price, even clueless people can instantly recognize the quality."
"I'm not that type of person!"
Jane followed Chuck's gaze and spotted the price tag still attached to the back of her winter coat. She protested, "I was just so focused on the case that I forgot to remove it."
"Good."
Chuck nodded and walked inside.
Since she wasn't a show-off type who needed to broadcast her spending habits, and if she was so absorbed in the case that she forgot about a price tag, it was most likely just typical rookie enthusiasm, not compensatory behavior.
For Chuck's purposes, as long as Jane wasn't a shallow status-seeker, that was sufficient!
(End of chapter)
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