Completed A few minutes later, in the hotel's back employee parking lot, Jack and Hannah sat in a Hellcat, watching the restaurant manager, Rod Det, change into casual clothes, walk out the back door with a terrified look, and drive off in a Toyota pickup truck.
"Do you think he's the murderer?" Hannah said, putting on her body armor.
After the Toyota pickup truck drove off for a distance, Jack started the Hellcat and slowly followed. "It's hard to say, but this guy has a criminal record. According to the information the Operations Center found, he was arrested for stalking and threatening a woman online and sentenced to four years. He actually spent less than a year in prison and was released on bail six months ago, and he's still on bail."
"So these people lie even about their tattoos?" Hannah was surprised. Five black dots meant five years in prison, yet this guy was out in less than a year.
"Some people view prison time as a qualification, believing it will make them more attractive to the opposite sex. This guy must be one of those people," Jack said with a disdainful curl of his lips.
North Salem is technically a small town, with a small center. It took less than ten minutes to drive to the outskirts. The Hellcat trailed behind the Toyota pickup truck, pulling into an old, wooded residential complex.
Jack parked the car, donned his body armor, and performed his usual firearms check. In this country, even catching a thief requires caution; who knows if the thief might suddenly pull a small pistol from his pocket.
Rod Det, clearly not expecting to be followed, got out of the car and rushed straight into a wooden house. Jack checked the location and found that the address matched the registered address Jubal had sent him.
During parole, the parole officer enforced different bail conditions depending on the severity of the crime. For Ted, whose case was less serious, he only needed to report regularly and receive occasional home visits, but he was strictly prohibited from changing his address.
"I'll knock on the door, and you block the rabbit hole." Jack drew his sidearm and tilted his head toward the backyard. Hannah understood, walking around to the back door of the house.
"Det, FBI, open the door!"
Jack banged on the door several times. Then there was a series of banging noises from inside, followed by the thud of someone running on the floor, and finally the sound of a door opening from the backyard.
And then nothing happened. When Jack reached the backyard, he saw Rod Det, groaning on the ground, clutching his chest, and Hannah handcuffing him.
If this guy was the murderer, he was probably the dumbest and easiest serial killer they had ever caught. There was a smashed laptop at Rod Det's feet, clearly the reason he rushed home in such a hurry.
"Let me guess, is there something shameful in here?" Jack smiled at him.
"I have the right to remain silent." Rod Det, struck hard in the stomach by Hannah, couldn't even stand up straight.
Someone's stupidity was even more surprising. The laptop was nearly intact, save for the LCD screen. The nerdy IT technician easily recovered the data.
Hannah frowned as she flipped through some unsightly images on her tablet. She gave Jack a scowl, "Are you sure you want me to interrogate this bitch?"
"Maybe this is the first serial killer you've ever caught. Are you sure you want to give the credit to someone else?" Jack smirked.
"Okay, okay. I'll go get the information." Hannah rolled her eyes, looking completely unmotivated.
Meanwhile, Aubrey and Isobel had returned to the operations center. They'd visited the husbands of the other two victims. While they couldn't say they'd found nothing, they certainly hadn't yielded any significant leads either.
"I even checked with the neighbors around both houses, and there's nothing suspicious. They're just ordinary young couples. There haven't been any noise complaints or suspicions of domestic violence,"
Isobel said with a resigned expression. It was clear that as a newcomer, she'd wanted to make a name for herself in this case, but her luck wasn't great.
"Both husbands said their wives had been approached and harassed by some bored men, but given the victims' appearance, it seemed to be within acceptable limits. No police reports or restraining orders were filed regarding stalking."
After explaining the situation, Aubrey sighed, his face brimming with envy. "I heard you've already apprehended a suspect?"
Hannah was at a loss for words, handing him the tablet. "That idiot is incredibly stupid. I have a feeling something's off, and I'm planning on interrogating him later."
Aubrey took the tablet, and he and Isobel, who was standing beside him, shared a similar expression.
Rod Det's computer contained a collection of poorly Photoshopped images, the kind you'd find in extremely vulgar memes, like a woman's head superimposed on a pig's body, captioned with a bunch of slang.
Of course, simple Photoshopped images like this wouldn't be a big deal, but one of the images featured Beatrice Santos, one of the victims.
Rod Det had photoshopped Beatrice Santos with a dog, posing them in an unspeakable pose.
"Are you sure this guy isn't the murderer? That's a very strong connection, and it suggests a lot of malice," Aubrey said, surprised.
Hannah glanced at Jack, seeing him smile without saying anything. She knew he shared her thoughts. "The murderer's disposal methods weren't particularly sophisticated, but they were certainly well-thought-out. If it weren't for some unexpected incident, the police might not have discovered the bodies until now.
And this bastard we caught, well, I don't think he's smart enough or brave enough to commit such a crime. But who knows? Maybe my intuition is wrong, or maybe we're just lucky this time. We'll know after the interrogation."
Jack smiled at Aubrey. "Would you be interested in interrogating this guy with Hannah?"
Aubrey rubbed his hands with a mixture of anticipation and hesitation. "It's just that my luck seems to be running low lately. Two of my female friends have blocked me in a row."
Compared to Jack, this guy was a true "Aquaman." Before joining the FBI, Aubrey made a fortune on Wall Street, practically achieving financial freedom.
His so-called female friends were mostly pretty, yet-to-be-famous actresses or models, the kind who only talked about sex, not love. He explained that he had a phobia of intimacy, a fear of getting too close in his romantic life.
A phobia of intimacy is a common psychological problem, not a disease. It manifests itself in a deliberate distancing in interpersonal relationships and a refusal to engage in excessive intimacy.
Many people in modern society experience this: they yearn for friendships but fear the wrong person, leading to anxiety and a gradual avoidance of intimacy, distancing themselves from everyone around them.
Of course, this can also escalate into a personality disorder, which is a different matter.
Jack scoffed at his argument. With Aubrey's emotional intelligence, such a problem simply didn't exist; it was all just an excuse for Aquaman.
Just a few delicious meals had the foodie spilling all his secrets, spilling his past experiences like a spitting tea. While they couldn't be described as completely open, they were certainly friends.
Jack assigned Hannah and Aubrey to the interrogation, not because he wasn't interested, but because it was now clear that this would be one of the few major cases they'd handled before the Most Wanted Squad was officially established.
Although he was confident in his chosen team members, he needed to get to know them better. After all, each person had a different approach to handling cases and a different focus. Jack wanted to see how each person performed under pressure so that they could better collaborate.
Hannah and Aubrey spent some time preparing their materials before entering the interrogation room. Jack and Jubal went into the observation room next door.
(End of this chapter)