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

Chapter 332

A document was slammed onto the table, and Joyna smiled, "It's yours, Eric."

“Okay,” Eric replied.

Joyna smiled and turned to leave. Eric watched her return to her workstation before turning his gaze to the thick folder in front of him.

Reaching out to open the cover, I found the preliminary report on the Burroughs Thorne case, a list of evidence, a summary of the interrogation records, and photocopies of some on-site photographs.

The case was officially solved in just one day, from the afternoon before yesterday to last night.

Moreover, his presence was quite strong in the process described in this report.

Writing the report this way is tantamount to giving him half the credit.

Eric shook his head inwardly. Even without him, the Fourth Squadron should have been able to solve the case based on the clues left by the physical evidence.

It's simply a matter of how fast or slow it will take. Of course, as time goes on, there will also be some risks.

Burroughs Thorne probably didn't expect that there would be a method of DNA comparison.

It can only be said that Burroughs Thorne doesn't know enough about criminal investigation.

As for why he didn't kill his mother the way he killed his father, leaving such a huge loophole, he couldn't be bothered to investigate further.

Human psychology and thoughts are very complex things.

He's not a psychologist.

A flurry of thoughts flashed through Eric's mind. He put down the folder, focused his attention on the computer screen, created a new document, and after a moment's thought, began typing.

He wrote so many reports that he had become quite adept at it.

Writing this kind of case report wasn't that difficult for him.

Case Number: ——

Case Name: Cherry Lane Mother and Son Murder Case.

Speaker: Trainee Detective Eric Stevens.

Overview—

During the trip, Eric also went to the forensic department to double-check the numbers and descriptions of several key pieces of evidence.

When he returned, Costa and Peña were already in the office, and they greeted him.

Judging from the slightly tired yet relaxed expressions on their faces, they had clearly reached a preliminary agreement with the prosecutor's office on the framework for prosecution.

It's unclear what the specific charges will be, but given Burroughs Thorne's actions, first-degree murder is almost certain, and it's very likely that there will be more than one charge.

Eric didn't ask any further questions, sat back down at his workstation, and continued working on the case report.

until noon.

Eric typed the last period on the keyboard, moved the mouse, clicked print, tidied up the printed report, and headed towards the captain's office.

He could feel the subtle gazes of Penia, White, and Joyna following him in the office area.

Seeing that the door was open, Eric knocked.

"Come in."

Eric pushed open the door and entered, glancing around instinctively. This was his first time entering the captain's office.

This is a simply furnished room, prioritizing practicality, with several certificates and departmental group photos hanging on the wall.

Costa sat alone behind his desk, working on something in front of his computer screen.

Eric placed the completed report on Costa's desk.

"Captain, case closed report."

Costa looked away from the screen, his gaze first falling on the report before he looked up at Eric.

"Not bad efficiency, how does it feel? From patrol officers on the streets to detectives in case files, that's quite a transformation."

"Fortunately, the process is different, but the core remains the same," Eric said calmly.

Recalling the large stack of documents about Eric's time as a patrol officer, Costa's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. He first gestured for Eric to sit down, then reached for the report, leaned back in his chair, and began to peruse it.

A few minutes later.

“Well written, Eric,” Costa said with a relaxed expression.

"Burles Thorne has been charged with two counts of first-degree murder, plus aggravated circumstances involving a minor victim. He faces life imprisonment without parole."

This report will be the final nail in his coffin.

Eric wasn't surprised at all; California used to have the death penalty, but it had long been abolished.

Costa glanced at Eric with admiration in his eyes. He had a lot to say, but in the end, he said nothing and got up to walk towards the door.

"Let's go, everyone's waiting for our news."

Eric nodded and followed behind, walking out of the office together, attracting the attention of Peña and the others.

Costa raised the report in his hand and said, "This case is now closed. The rest will be handled by the court. Everyone has worked hard these past few days."

He glanced at everyone: "There's nothing urgent this afternoon, so relax. Tonight, the usual place! Terminal Bar! It's on me! And also to welcome Eric to our Fourth Squadron."

"Wow! Long live the boss!" White was the first to cheer.

Peña and Joyna exchanged a glance and laughed.

“Looks like your wallet’s in for a rough night, Costa,” Peña chuckled.

Costa chuckled: "Just don't order the most expensive thing, guys."

White had already darted over to Eric and grabbed his shoulder tightly: "Did you hear that, rookie? The boss threw you a welcome party himself! Tonight, I'm going to show you some of the Fourth Squadron's traditional games!"

Eric was pulled slightly to the side by White's embrace. He wasn't used to such close contact, but he didn't pull away, only smiling helplessly.
"It seems I can't hide."

"Don't even think about it!" Joyna joined the conversation with a laugh: "It's a tradition, every newcomer has to go through this."

Don't worry, we won't actually let White drink you under the table.

Eric simply shrugged. Although he didn't drink much, he was never afraid of anyone when it came to drinking.

He hasn't yet figured out just how strong Shenlan's physical abilities are.

Costa looked at the team members who had suddenly become lively, shook his head, and had a indulgent smile on his face.

"Alright, alright, we'll celebrate tonight! Now, go do what you need to do, pack up what you need to pack, and I'll pretend I didn't see anyone trying to slip away early, just don't block my office door."

"See you at seven o'clock tonight, that's all!" After saying that, he turned and went into his office.

White released Eric and lowered his voice: "It's rare for the boss to treat us to a meal, so we have to make the most of it!"

The guy nudged him lightly with his elbow, winked at him, and strode towards his workstation, humming an off-key tune as he frantically packed his things, looking like he was planning to be the first to slip away.

Eric's lips twitched.

Joyna watched White's retreating figure, shook her head with amusement, then picked up her handbag and said to Eric:
"Do you need a ride? We can go together tonight."

"No need, I have some things to take care of. I can go over by myself tonight," Eric politely declined.

“Okay, see you tonight,” Joyna said with a smile.

I will send you the address.

Eric nodded and said, "Okay."

Peña seemed to be planning to slip away as well, patting his arm: "Well done, see you tonight." Then, she walked out side by side with Joyna, who was waiting for her.

In the blink of an eye, the once bustling office area fell silent, leaving only Eric alone.

"Okay, let's go home."

Eric muttered to himself, circling his office area. His gaze swept over White's messy corner piled with snack wrappers, Joyna's impeccably tidy desk, and the slightly wilted plant on Penia's workstation. In just two or three days, this space had gone from completely unfamiliar to familiar.

Eric smiled, reached for his car keys, glanced one last time at Costa's closed office door, and turned to leave.

Stepping out of the detective agency building, the midday sun was quite dazzling.

After finding his car and getting into the driver's seat, Eric didn't start the engine immediately as usual, but instead sat in the quiet workshop for a while.

When he took out his vibrating phone, he saw that Joyna had sent him the address of the Terminal Bar, along with a simple wine glass emoji.

Eric replied with "Received," started the car, and drove off.

--------------

at the same time.

"Considering all factors, you're in very good shape, Lieutenant."

So how are you feeling overall right now? Have you experienced blurred vision, headaches, or memory loss?

"Memory loss?"

Yes, physical injuries heal much faster than brain injuries.
The recovery of the nervous system can take much longer, and the grief of losing comrades and post-war trauma can indeed lead to memory loss.

Recalling the conversation, James Rees stood outside Camp Pendleton, took a deep breath, and prepared to pick up his phone.

A Gladiator Jeep suddenly drove up, attracting Reese's attention.

The car stopped, and a man with short hair and a full beard got out.

Upon seeing this man, Rhys's face lit up with a smile.

"Don't tell me you're going to call an Uber?" the man said as he walked over.

Rhys's smile remained unchanged, but a hint of sadness appeared in his eyes as he stepped forward to meet him.

The man, with the same expression, opened his arms:
"Brother, I've been waiting for you for a while."

"Ben!" Reese said.

The two grown men embraced tightly, their unspoken understanding unspoken.

Ben took a deep breath and said, "You've had a hard time. I'll take you home, brother."

“Yes,” Rhys nodded.

-

Inside the Gladiator Jeep speeding towards Los Angeles.

"Before we get home, maybe we can go for a drive and clear my head?" Rhys's voice rang out.

Ben pursed his lips. He knew how Reese felt, after all, so many comrades and brothers had died, but Reese's condition was clearly not right:

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

“How much do you know? I think it’s the CIA,” Reese said, glancing at Ben, who was driving.

Ben was his comrade-in-arms and brother, but he was removed from the team for disobeying his superiors and orders, and eventually joined the CIA.

"The bureau hasn't said anything," Ben said.

"You know it's impossible to get information from the CIA."

Rhys paused for a moment, recalling everything that had happened before. All he could think of was that the operation logs and recordings had been tampered with, combined with the bombs that had been planted and the enemies that had been lying in ambush during the operation.

He took a deep breath and looked out the window at the Los Angeles suburbs:
"That was a trap, Ben."

"What do you mean?" Ben asked, glancing at Si.

“Someone gave us false information about Kahani in order to lure us into a trap.”

Ben frowned: "You think the Shulia Democratic Forces have questionable intelligence sources?"

“It’s possible, but it’s unclear exactly. Anyone could be involved,” Rhys said.

"Fuck!" Ben muttered under his breath.

Ries said, "Who do you think has the ability to modify our signals?"

"What do you mean? A signal interruption?" Ben asked, frowning.

“Modify our digital records, alter the voice, create a deepfake,” Rhys said.

Ben paused for a moment: "Brother, are you suspecting there's something wrong with the action log and recordings?"
Only highly advanced electronic warfare capabilities can achieve this level of skill; its difficulty is comparable to the "Hand of God" or something similar.

Rhys fell silent, sensing that there were many suspicious points involved.

Upon seeing this, Ben sighed and said, "Listen, Reese, since you suspect there's something fishy about our brothers' deaths, I'll help you. I can try to see if I can find any useful information from the department."

Rhys looked out the window and said, "Okay."

-

As the familiar street came into view, Eric's gaze habitually swept over the fences and house walls, confirming that everything was as usual.

Instead of driving the car into the garage, they parked it outside first.

Eric got out of the car and drove straight into the house. As soon as he entered the foyer, the midday sun shone through the windows, illuminating the living room.

A faint aroma of food wafted through the air as Tifa walked out of the kitchen carrying a plate of freshly made sandwiches.

Seeing Eric suddenly appear at this time, Tifa was clearly taken aback, her hand holding the plate paused:
"Honey, why are you back at this hour?"

Eric casually closed the heavy door behind him and left his car keys in the entryway.

"The case is officially closed. I got a half-day off." Eric walked up to Tifa, glanced at the plate in her hand, and smiled.

"Perfect timing, I haven't had lunch yet."

Tifa smiled brightly when she heard his reply: "Go wash your hands quickly, the coffee is freshly brewed, it'll go perfectly with it."

“Okay.” Eric readily agreed and walked toward the kitchen sink.

As soon as he finished washing his hands and came over, Tifa had already neatly set out the tableware. The sandwiches on top looked very substantial, with the edges of the bread toasted to perfection.

After he sat down, Tifa turned around and brought out two steaming cups of coffee from the kitchen.

Tifa placed one of the mugs in front of Eric's seat, then sat down opposite him, holding the mug in both hands and looking at Eric.

"Honey, is the case completely closed?"

"Hmm," Eric responded, picked up a sandwich, took a big bite, and chewed with a satisfied expression.

"The report has been submitted; the rest is a matter for the courts."

Tifa carefully observed Eric's state; he seemed relaxed overall, and Tifa smiled knowingly.

“They’ve arranged a party tonight,” Eric said casually, taking a sip of his coffee.

"This is a good thing!" Tifa laughed.
"That means they really consider you one of their own, honey. It seems you're getting along well with your new teammates? What are they like?"

Eric swallowed his food and thought for a moment: "Captain Costa is experienced, doesn't talk much but is very reliable, Vice-Captain Peña has clear logic... and Joyna is very meticulous..."

Eric paused for a moment, then added, "There's also a guy named White, who has the loudest voice and is always full of energy."

Tifa listened to Eric's brief introduction and smiled.

"Sounds like a good team. That over-energetic White will definitely be the one keeping a close eye on you tonight."

Eric raised an eyebrow noncommittally, not particularly worried.

He feels absolutely nothing when he drinks now.

(End of this chapter)