Mysterious Hunting Ground

Chapter 24 24. Holden Ford

Monday morning.

The skies were overcast, with thick cotton-wool cumulonimbus clouds looming over Las Vegas, heralding a terrifying downpour.

Dean called Last to take the Nikon F3 to the outside of the baseball field.

Usually at this time, twenty or so members of the school baseball team have started confrontation training under the organization of Bob and coach Tom, surrounded by nympho girls, but today the baseball field is empty.

"Hey, Rust, who was that girl just now? She has a good figure and looks."

"Britney, last time I used her as an example at Bob's birthday party, she got mad and asked me why."

"No, I think she has a certain crush on you," Dean said solemnly. "She's trying to impress you on purpose."

"Is that so?" said Lust, eagerly.

"Well, you have to work hard, get out of the order as soon as possible, okay, now take a photo of me, try to make it as handsome as possible."

Dean grinned with white teeth and a bright smile, leaned his back against the net and made an OK gesture,
"Shadow" stood shoulder to shoulder beside him.

He was in a good mood, and he had already started to implement the ultimate tempering method last night.

I fell asleep from excessive mental energy consumption, and the quality of sleep was very good.

Although the proficiency of Shadow of the Past is still 0, Dean believes that if he keeps practicing, he will improve sooner or later.

……

Ruster took a few photos of Dean, and he didn't notice the "shadow" floating around him through the camera.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, and prepared to check the film after it was developed.

……

After the third class in the morning, Dean's long-awaited "judgment" came.

The headmaster Ulysses, who had dark circles under his eyes and seemed to have not slept for several nights, found him.

And following behind him, Rust, who had just been questioned, blinked at him worriedly.

"Dean, don't be nervous when you get to the office later, this is just a routine question, and it's absolutely fine to answer honestly."

Ulysses comforted him, and then sent him to the door. Dean took a deep breath and quickly went through the original plan in his mind.

in the door.

Waiting in the office was a tall and straight man with meticulously combed black hair and a baby face. He was in his thirties, about the same height as Dean, about 1.75, and handsome.

She exudes an elegant, soft, and trustworthy temperament, without the seriousness and indifference of a cop.

However, Dean's heart skipped a beat when he saw this. Ordinary cops wouldn't wear a dark blue suit, white shirt, and tie outside, with a sparkling quartz watch on their left wrist.

"Dean? I'm FBI Agent Holden Ford."

The man first showed his ID, stretched out his hand to signal him to sit down, and at the same time scanned Dean from head to toe.

"Don't be nervous, let's chat casually, I had a good chat with your classmates just now."

His voice is gentle and calms people's minds.

"Do you want coffee?"

"A glass of water is enough." Dean held the glass in both hands, turned his head slightly to avoid the inspector's eyes, "You, you came to me because of Bob's business?"

"Have you heard?" Holden moved a chair and sat beside him, not too far away, with sincere and frank eyes.

"I didn't know, but when I came to school this morning, everyone was discussing it, so..."

"How did you feel after listening to it?"

"Huh?" Dean lowered his head, pretending to be at a loss, "It sounds like a joke. Bob's family is so rich and popular, how could it suddenly disappear?"

"Mr. Holden, how did he die?" Dean took a sip of water, looked up, with a timid and curious expression, "Everyone said his death was very strange."

Holden shook his head and laughed, his eyes met Dean's, and he said it directly,
"Bob died very simply, was shot in the head, and the murderer left two letters beside his body..."

Ok?
Dean felt a little wrong, and it was the first time we met. Why did the FBI reveal this kind of inside story to a high school student?

Is this in line with the rules, and he is not afraid of his own psychological shadow?
But Dean continued to perform, his face turned pale, his lips trembled slightly, as if frightened,

Holden changed the subject, "Dean, I heard that your home is quite far from the school."

"I have to ride a bicycle for more than an hour to school every day."

"Are not you tired?"

"Get used to it."

"How many people are there in your family?"

"Just an uncle, but he works in northern Nevada and I'm home alone most of the time."

Dean answered honestly.

"Your uncle, what job?"

"bodyguard."

With a strange look in Holden's eyes, he walked to the desk very close to Dean, leaned his hips against the desk, and faced him condescendingly,

Dean felt that he had said something wrong just now.

"Where were you the day before yesterday?" Holden asked.
Dean perked up,
"Saturday? During the day, Rust and I went to Barkadisco in the southern district."

"The bar allows you to go in?"

"We managed to sneak in and drank some wine. At four or five o'clock in the afternoon, I went home and fell asleep. Mr. FBI, please keep it secret for us." Dean begged,
"Has anyone testified for you?"

Di Qiang pretended to think about it. Fortunately, he guided ahead of time and strengthened the neighbor's impression, "My neighbors Jacob and Tangya met me at that time."

Holden nodded.
"I heard from a few people that last Tuesday, you had a conflict with Bob in the cafeteria, and you injured him?"

The topic suddenly became sharp.

Dean was slightly uncomfortable, and nodded silently.

"What is the specific reason?"

Dean's hands were visibly clenched into fists, as if he was engaged in a fierce psychological struggle, and he sighed after a long time.

"He used to hit me and scold me a lot."

"Oh, can you tell me more about it?"

"I didn't do anything wrong, but because I'm yellow, racists can get on with me and make trouble for me..." Dean covered his face with his hands, his voice trembling.

Holden reached out to straighten the tie between the white shirts, got up and turned around the chair, and glanced at Dean's palm.

"He used to bully you a lot, and you didn't fight back. Until last Tuesday, you couldn't take it anymore and beat his Bob to the ground."

"I have no idea."

"I didn't say you were wrong, you did the right thing..." Holden showed a look of appreciation in his eyes, "Respect cannot be exchanged for blind tolerance, only fists can save oneself from difficulties."

Dean was surprised, the FBI was quite reasonable, and didn't instill those hypocritical and rigid principles in himself.

"But Bob's identity is not simple. If you beat him up, he can't let it go. Has he ever threatened you?"

Holden stared into Dean's eyes and asked, but Dean couldn't figure out what he meant by asking, so he didn't speak.

"Dean, I understand from the LVPD that the night you and Bob had a confrontation, your home was smashed by a group of people."

"What do you mean? Are the two related?" Dean looked confused.

"How can there be such a coincidence in the world, you are such a smart and outstanding student, you should have guessed it a long time ago, this is Bob's revenge!"

"Really? The LVPD police officers haven't given me a clear answer so far, and they haven't caught the criminal who destroyed my house. Although Bob likes to bully people, he can't go too far?" Di immediately shook his head.

"But you can't deny that what happened that night scared you, right?" Holden asked in a firm tone,
Dean defaults.

"You feel fear, fear leads astray, fear breeds anger, anger breeds hatred, hatred breeds misery."

"You have to find someone to seek comfort and protection," Holden said quickly and ruthlessly. "He has to be trustworthy and have the strength to protect you. And there is only one person who meets the requirements—your uncle Paqui!"

"You told Bob all about your troubles with Bob, didn't you?"

Dean squeezed his thigh suddenly with his hand, denying,

"Mr. FBI, I don't understand what you mean. I didn't tell Paqui what happened here at all. He is usually busy with work, and I don't want him to worry."

"It doesn't matter if you didn't tell him... my nephew is covered in injuries, and the house is in a mess." Holden said in a calm tone with a hint of expectation and guidance, "And your uncle is a bodyguard, and bodyguards are usually very observant. Nothing is surprising."

"Why do you keep bringing up my uncle? It's not about Bob today?" Dean couldn't help but patted the table and looked up into his eyes as if offended.

"Relax, Dean, I'll satisfy your curiosity. It's against the rules, but I think you're a mature young man and you should know more."

Holden praised without hesitation,

"The murderer came and went without a trace in Bob's villa, and even took away the surveillance video of the day, which shows that the murderer is extremely familiar with the surveillance equipment and has excellent psychological quality. In this day and age, such people are either habitual criminals or security companies. Employees, police, or — bodyguards."

Dean looked over quietly,
Holden met his gaze and continued,
"And he chose the timing very cleverly. Bob had bodyguards at home, but on his birthday, in order to let his classmates have a good time, Bob asked all the bodyguards to leave temporarily. In addition, the murderer cleaned up the scene very cleanly... These two points show that he is meticulous. .”

"In addition, the examination of Bob's body revealed that the murderer was surprisingly powerful, powerful, proficient in firearms and fighting, and had received military training. These are the basic qualities of a bodyguard."

Surprise flashed in Dean's eyes, he shook his head, and stood up blushing. The FBI actually tracked down his uncle.

In order to protect his only family member, Uncle Paqui secretly killed the rich second generation who threatened him.

Sounds like that.

But it was wrong from the start.

"Mr. Holden, you suspect that my uncle hurt Bob? Absurd! He left Las Vegas a few days ago."

"But he didn't travel very far. He's all in the same state. It's very convenient to fly back and forth." Holden tapped the table with his index finger upside down, and his pupils narrowed even more. "Although the fingerprints at the murder scene were cleaned up, but In addition to Bob's DNA, we extracted the blood DNA of the second person from the bloodstains at the scene. It only takes a few samples for comparison to confirm his identity."

Dean pretended to be puzzled,

"Wait, what does blood DNA mean?"

Holden pressed on step by step,
"Didn't you learn it in biology class? That's okay, young man, you just need to know that if you find that your uncle hurt Bob and there are evidences, it's better to let him plead guilty voluntarily, so the punishment may be lighter, it's okay You can still reunite in 20 years."

"If we find out, there is a high probability that it will be the death penalty."

"Do you understand the death penalty? Nevada's execution method is the latest lethal injection method. It's like an intravenous drip. You will never see your uncle, your only relative."

"That's terrible." Holden regretted, "He didn't have to die, as long as you said it."

Dean was stunned for a moment, his cheeks flushed with anger, his eyes spit fire,
"Stop! What is the death penalty? You are slandering my uncle and threatening me. I will call you to complain!"

Holden's expression froze, and he lost his composure for the first time. This bratty high school student actually knew how to file a complaint against the FBI.

"Don't get excited, I'm just giving you a suggestion based on our current investigation. Since you don't want to talk about your uncle, then don't talk about it. Drink some water first and take a rest."

Holden let Dean take a breath, took out two strawberry-flavored mints from his suit pocket, peeled off one, threw it into his mouth, and gave another to Dean.

The taste is good, and Dean relaxes his tense nerves while chewing.

Holden opened his mouth to care about his daily life again.

The tense atmosphere in the office gradually eased.

Seeing that Dean's expression began to relax, Holden smiled and threw a question at him in a casual tone.

"Back to the previous topic, Bob, how did I say he died?"

"Shot."

Dean blurted out.

"That's right. And then... I said, what two letters did the murderer leave beside his body?" Holden lowered his voice, with a persuasive tone, which made people couldn't help but listen.
"NR..." Dean answered in his heart, then his expression froze, he tilted his head and looked at Holden suspiciously,

"How do I know this? You obviously didn't tell me just now."

After speaking, Dean cursed in his heart.

Farke's FBI actually set a trap for high school students and dug a hole for me to jump into.

He almost said "NR".

But in his settings, he had never been to the party, so how could he know what letters were left next to the corpse?
"Sorry, I didn't sleep well last night, and my memory has deteriorated." Having been exposed of the trick, Holden just shrugged,

"Mr. FBI, we've been talking for a quarter of an hour. It's time for me to go back to class."

Dean turned his head away, rubbing his temples, his face tired,
"Ok."

Holden checked his watch,

"I'm currently staying in LVPD for a long time. If you think of any clues, come to the Bureau to find me at any time."

……

Wait until Dean opens the door and leaves.

Holden took out his notebook and opened it, and a large list of names appeared.

"Wazell, Ulysses...Rast..."

He wrote Dean's name on the blank page, along with a long description:

"Being violently treated by the victim for a long time, with resentment in his heart, fits the psychological profile of the murderer."

"There is a large gap in size and strength, no calluses on the hands, no professional fighting and shooting training, and no physical conditions for committing crimes."

"Alibi.

"Q&A performed normally."

"Bold and vigilant."

"Dean Lu, the suspicion is low."

Holden grinned, rubbing the tip of his pen across the page.

"To be observed."

……

(End of this chapter)