The real life of an American police officer: Winning over others with virtue

Chapter 331 Poor people must be hateful

As expected, it was Tifa; her observation skills were far more acute than he had imagined.

Eric gently squeezed Tifa's toes: "Okay, I can't hide it from you. The murderer in that case challenged my understanding of the bottom line of humanity."

"Maybe it's making me a little nervous?"

At this point, Eric continued without giving Tifa a chance to speak.

"I'm not that fragile, you know that."

When Tifa was still a psychologist, he received a lot of psychological counseling from her. It was because of this that Tifa eventually fell into his trap through repeated confrontations and in-depth communication.

Otherwise, he really didn't know what kind of person could win the heart of a woman as insightful as her and with such strong personal defenses.

Fortunately, he's not bad either.

When Tifa heard this and saw Eric's smug expression, how could she not understand?

“Yes, yes, Officer Stevens is the strongest.” She teased him, casually putting the tablet aside. Like a lazy cat, she scurried over from the other end of the sofa, snuggled into his arms without a word, found the most comfortable spot, and looked up at Eric.

Her eyes were captivating.

"So, does this police officer, who is in excellent condition, now need an informal, super-attentive, and absolutely confidential relaxation service provided by his former psychologist and current girlfriend?"

For example, how about helping you shift your attention away from that damn TV and onto something more enjoyable?

Before she finished speaking, Tifa grabbed something, her eyes gleaming with a cunning and alluring light.

"I'm telling you, you're finished! Utterly finished!" Eric gasped, speaking fiercely, before picking up the giggling Tifa and heading straight for the room.

-

The intense afterglow receded slowly like the tide, leaving behind a room filled with tranquility and intertwined warm breaths.

The bedroom lights were off, only the moonlight from outside the window filtered through the blinds, casting bands of light on the floor and the disheveled sheets.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of desire, mixed with Eric's faint soapy fragrance and Tifa's warm scent after his bath.

Eric lay on his back, his chest still rising and falling slightly, one arm resting on Tifa's head, while the other hand unconsciously and intermittently stroked her smooth back.

Tifa, like a completely tamed cat, lay limply on Eric, listening to his strong heartbeat. She was so tired that she didn't want to move a single finger, but her sense of security and satisfaction had reached its peak.

The two of them nestled together quietly, and before long, Eric laughed.

"Is it okay?"

Tifa was so lazy that she didn't even have the strength to roll her eyes, so she didn't answer. She just used the last bit of strength she had left to open her mouth and bite him lightly on the left side of his chest, near his heart.

"Hehe, looks like you still have some strength. It's me who's not up to it," Eric said with a smile, then changed the subject.

"So why did you suddenly come back tonight?"

Tifa shifted lazily in Eric's arms: "I was suddenly called away on a errand and went to Camp Pendleton."

Camp Pendleton? Eric raised an eyebrow. He knew this military base on the Southern California coastline, an important training center for the Marine Corps, right next to Los Angeles.

No wonder Tifa suddenly came back.

"The territory of the army and navy?" A barely perceptible hint of wariness flashed in Eric's eyes.

There's no other reason than that there are just too many bad things about the United States, and being shot in the back is no joke.

"What kind of case could they possibly have that would require an FBI profiler? It can't be that some general's psychological evaluation went wrong, can it?"

Tifa shook her head slightly: "It's not an internal issue. It's about assessing a SEAL team member returning from a mission, involving a follow-up assessment of a high-risk overseas operation."

“Seals?” Eric frowned. The LAPD had limited contact with the military, and he had never interacted with the military, but he knew that the word “Seals” itself represented the military’s top combat power and the highest-risk missions.

Heavy casualties? Eric could imagine the extent of the tragedy behind it.

Is this a post-war psychological trauma assessment?

“That’s the official definition,” Tifa said, not hiding anything from Eric, since the two had always been one.

After hearing what Tifa said, Eric frowned. Although he didn't know the truth yet, he already felt that there was something fishy going on.

"The lieutenant's version of events and the official report were completely different stories from the one he believed in, but my professional intuition told me that he was not lying, nor was he suffering from a fuzzy or confused memory."

Eric was silent for a moment. He trusted Tifa's judgment. If the lieutenant was not the problem, then the problem must lie elsewhere.

As for the SEAL team's operation reports and potentially tampered evidence, he could easily guess how deep the waters ran.

Tifa noticed Eric's change in demeanor and reached out to smooth his slightly furrowed brow: "It was just a temporary psychological assessment; my part is over."

“Hmm,” Eric said, keeping the matter to himself.

"So you're going back after today?"

"I won't go back." Tifa's lips curved into a relaxed smile as she snuggled closer to Eric.

"The subsequent analysis report can be completed remotely, so I have a few days of flexibility. For the next few days, I am temporarily yours."

Eric's eyes lit up. If Tifa were to suddenly get involved in some incident, he would feel more at ease having her by his side.

"This is a good opportunity to show you around the house."

Eric turned to the side, opened the bedside table, picked up the tablet inside, and, under Tifa's interested gaze, brought up the interface of the entire house's security system.

Now, with time and gradual refinement, all the modifications have been initially completed, except for Bauer's upgraded equipment.

I've been too busy lately to go.

However, given the current security situation, it's manageable.

However, with Tifa at home now, she can connect with Bauer.

Eric pointed to the three-dimensional structure diagram on the screen.

"You've already experienced the outer fences and access control. The key is the interior. All the windows have been replaced with bulletproof glass, and there's a one-way transparent metal mesh in the interlayer. If necessary, it can be completely blocked out, so from the outside, it looks like an opaque metal plate."

"That's so exaggerated?" Although Tifa was somewhat prepared, she was still a little surprised.

“Basic operations,” Eric said. After all, with a budget of nearly a million dollars already invested, it couldn’t be anything less than perfect. He continued his explanation.

"The entire house's ventilation system is connected to an independent air filtration system, which can effectively protect against most known chemical and biological agents. Of course, we hope we will never need to use it."

Tifa blinked. Heaven knows what Eric has been up to lately.

Eric swiped the screen to switch to another interface: "This is the safe house, in the dark room right next to our bedroom."

The walls and doors provide the highest level of protection, and the interior has independent power, water, and communication equipment. The food and water reserves are enough to sustain two people for two weeks.

Multiple authentication methods are used, and your permissions have already been entered, so in case of any emergency, you can just hide here. ————

Morning light streamed into the bedroom.

Eric was already awake and glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

It was exactly eight o'clock.

Thanks to changes in his physical condition, his biological clock has always been very precise; he can wake up whenever he wants.

I glanced at Tifa, who was still fast asleep. She was lying on her side, her brown hair spread all over the pillow, and her sleeping face was peaceful.

Eric smiled slightly, knowing that Tifa was tired. He got up very quietly, without disturbing Tifa who was still fast asleep beside him.

Then he bent down and kissed her forehead. After his parents' unexpected death, without Tifa by his side, he had no sense of belonging to the world, and he was afraid that he would only go further and further into darkness.

Leaving the bedroom and entering the living room, Eric first checked the security system's terminal screen, which clearly showed that all peripheral sensors and cameras were online and functioning normally, with no abnormal trigger records.

Eric skillfully deactivated the motion sensor alarm inside the room, then went into the kitchen, took out milk and cereal from the refrigerator, and brewed a pot of coffee.

This morning still had no flavor whatsoever.

He quickly sorted everything out and got ready for work, but before leaving, Eric poured a glass of water into Tifa's favorite mug, and placed it on the bedside table, within easy reach, along with a box of her favorite brand of juice and a few individually wrapped packets of cookies.

After doing all this, Eric went back to the bedside.

Tifa seemed to sense his departure, unconsciously furrowing her brow in her sleep and mumbling something indistinctly.

Eric smiled slightly and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "The water and food are over there. I'm going to the station. You rest well at home. I'll have Bauer come this afternoon."

It was agreed last night that Tifa would connect with Bauer and have Bauer install his upgraded equipment.

Tifa seemed to understand in her sleep; her brows relaxed, she softly hummed in agreement, and her breathing became long and even again.

Seeing this, Eric quietly left the bedroom and gently closed the door.

-

Arrived at the police station building.

Eric pushed open the door to the fourth squadron's office area, carrying a bulging paper bag that emitted the enticing aroma of fresh coffee and toasted bacon.

He made a special detour to a well-regarded deli, where he bought a generous amount of breakfast sandwiches and a large box of hot coffee.

Although he didn't need to do this, he knew that improving relationships always starts with small things.

Moreover, for his net worth, this amount of money for breakfast is just a drop in the ocean.

Of course, most importantly, the team members were too kind; they let him, the newcomer who should have been doing the hard work, go during the busiest time.

However, only Joyna and White were in the office area.

White, sporting dark circles under his eyes, was typing a report on his computer screen, while Joyna was organizing a thick list of evidence.

"Good morning," Eric said, breaking the morning silence as he placed the paper bag on the table in the common area.

"I bought some fuel, I don't know if it will suit your taste."

White's nose twitched twice, and he instantly sprang up from his workstation: "Wow! Eric, you look exceptionally nice today. I'll forgive you for skipping out last night!"

He walked over and unceremoniously opened the paper bag, taking out a sandwich with thick-cut bacon and scrambled eggs.

Eric smiled and said, "Thank you." Seeing Joyna approaching, he casually picked up a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

"How did you rest? Did you have any nightmares last night? Tell me the truth." Joyna took the coffee Eric handed her and picked up a sandwich.

“To be honest,” Eric said, grabbing himself a cup of coffee as well.
I slept better than I expected.

With his mouth full of sandwiches, White mumbled, "That's good, proves you're tough enough for this! Hey, this bacon is really good!"

Joyna ate her sandwich in small bites and looked at Eric: "The boss and Peña went to the District Attorney's office early this morning, hoping to expedite the prosecution process and nail that bastard to the ground."

"You've come at the right time. We have a lot of paperwork piled up today, and we definitely need some manpower."

"Just let me know if there's anything I need you to do," Eric said.
What is my task today?

Although he knew a lot about the Los Angeles Police Department and was knowledgeable about the law, he was completely bewildered when he first became a detective.

White and Joyna exchanged a glance, and finally Joyna spoke.

"Don't rush. That bastard has confessed to a lot of things. The Cherry Lane mother and son case is not the first one he committed."

Eric was taken aback. In his mind, the loopholes left by this guy were big enough that it must be because it was his first time committing a crime, but he didn't expect that wasn't the case.

The next second, Eric remembered the old woman who had reacted so strongly earlier.

"Is it possible?"

Hearing this tone, Joyna raised an eyebrow and asked, "What do you think it could be?"

“There’s always a reason why someone is pitiful,” Eric said calmly.

"Was there something wrong with his father's death?"

He had already learned about the commonalities among these perverts through Tifa's interviews. Although some were born perverted, many were often accompanied by family misfortunes.

Of course, to him, these perverts deserved to die no matter what.

Joyna and White exchanged a glance.

White grinned, staring at Eric with a hint of barely perceptible admiration in his eyes: "I must say, you've got a pretty sharp mind, haven't you?"

Joyna smiled and nodded, confirming Eric's guess: "According to Burroughs Thorne's testimony, his father had a long history of domestic violence against his mother, Mrs. Marianne, and young Burroughs. He was even raped."
So one night, taking advantage of his father's habit of taking prescription diazepam long-term and drinking strong whiskey before bed, he secretly increased the dosage of diazepam.
After all, diazepam and alcohol have a synergistic inhibitory effect, which can severely exacerbate the suppression of the central nervous system, especially respiratory function.

White stuffed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth in a few bites, patted the crumbs off his hands, and continued.

"Therefore, his father died silently in his sleep due to lack of oxygen. There were no signs of struggle at the scene, and the person involved had a reputation for drug and alcohol abuse. The autopsy also did not find any signs of forced or violent administration. So it was naturally determined at the time to be an accidental overdose."

After listening, Eric simply shrugged, offering no further comment: "Really? What do you need me to do?"

White shook his head and chuckled, then turned to Joyna and said, "I told you, this kid is definitely cut out for this. He doesn't even blink when he hears about this kind of thing."

Joyna chuckled and said to Eric, "So your task today is to go over our preliminary report and all the chains of evidence again."
Timeline, correlation of physical evidence, details of confessions—don't make a single punctuation mark wrong.

As she spoke, Joyna looked at the surprised Eric and continued, "Finish the case report, and write it well. This is the task the boss assigned to you."

White patted Eric on the shoulder and laughed, "This is also the first important document report of your first major case. The prosecutor needs it, so don't mess it up."

(End of this chapter)