America: The Gear-Up Detective

Rhodes uploaded the video he had filmed to the group chat, and Connor would hand it over to the FID agents for further investigation.

Hank stayed behind to lead the patrol officers and technical team who came to provide support in searching the interior of the villa, hoping to find Emily's jeans.

Rod then returned to his grandfather's ranch without lingering.

After waiting 48 hours, the FID investigators began questioning them.

......

The vehicle slowly came to a stop, and we looked at the pitch-black pasture in front of us.

Rhodes glanced at the time, then fell into deep thought again. "It's not even ten o'clock yet, I should be considered late, right? Why is there no sign of anyone?"

Rod got out of the car, pushed open the door and entered. The room didn't have the beer, barbecue, or other things that should be present at a party that he had expected.

On the contrary, it was clean and tidy, just like usual.

"Did the party not even start? Or was it canceled outright? Nobody notified me."

After thinking for a moment, she didn't dare ask her grandfather, so she called her older brother Kevin instead. "Bro, what's the situation with the gathering? Why is nobody here?"

On the other end of the phone, Kevin sounded like he was brushing his teeth. After the rinsing sound came through, Kevin finally spoke, "Didn't Grandpa tell you? Uncle Wesley's flight was delayed, and the party has been rescheduled for tomorrow."

Rod gave a wry smile. Edgar must have guessed that he had forgotten about the party, so he didn't bother to mention it.

"You really... know your grandson too well."

Unfortunately, Rod had been hoping to have dinner at the party, but he ended up making a wasted trip.

Turning around and leaving the house, Rod drove off towards the edge of the ranch.

......

Wilshire, Wilshire Boulevard.

The Miracle Mile, or more commonly known as Museum Row, is a street lined with many of the world’s best museums.

At a large hot dog stand near the street, even though it was already 10 p.m., many customers were still lined up patiently waiting.

There were a few police cars parked around the stall, and you could occasionally see a few patrol officers going into the hot dog stand and then coming out with hot dogs.

This is a hot dog stand near Wilshire Police Station.

The boss is a hardworking Mexican.

This stall is very popular with my colleagues at the police station. If I had to say why, it's because it's cheap, has lots of ingredients, and comes in large quantities – those are definitely its advantages.

But more importantly, the owner, Enzo Martinez, would occasionally give free meals to patrol officers who came to eat, and regardless of whether they made a purchase, Enzo would give any police officer who entered the stall area a bottle of soda or other beverage.

In Rod's memory, when he was a patrolman, he spent money extravagantly in other areas and sometimes when he didn't have money to buy food, he would come here to "mooch a meal".

Of course, Rhodes wasn't a shameless person, and he often helped Enzo solve minor troubles such as harassment from nearby gangs.

Over time, the two became good friends.

Rod got off the bus and, instead of queuing, went straight into the open-air tent where hot dogs were being made.

Enzo spotted Rhodes immediately and laughed exaggeratedly, "Yo, Rhodes, my bro. Long time no see, wanna have a drink?"

"Of course! Two full sets, please."

"Okay! Mayonnaise, ketchup, and mustard..." The boss, Enzo, deftly placed a sausage wrapped in bacon into a loaf of bread.

He quickly squeezed out the three sauces and then deftly added a large spoonful of cooked onion.

"La Cheetos?"

Enzo picked up a jar filled with unidentified red powder and looked at Rhodes with expectant eyes.

Rod smiled. "Just one more will do."

"That's more like it, bro." Enzo was clearly pleased with the sales pitch.

Holding two hot dogs, Rod, who hadn't eaten for most of the day, was drooling.

"Nothing's been bothering you lately, has it?" Rod asked casually.

Enzo glanced at Rhodes, hesitated for a moment, but finally smiled. "Of course not, bro. There are plenty of police around here, no one will bother us."

Rod didn't notice Enzo's odd behavior; he had his own way of contacting people, and Enzo would call him if needed.

Rod took two hot dogs, sat in the spacious back of the pickup truck, enjoying the evening breeze and the moment of comfort.

The tension in my heart eased a little.

No matter what, this was Rod's first time firing a gun and his first time killing someone, so he was bound to feel uncomfortable.

Fortunately, in Rhodes's memory, during the original owner's four-year career as a patrol officer, he had twice taken administrative leave due to shootings, and a suspect died as a result.

This made Rhodes feel a little better, after all, he had at least gained some "experience".

While Rod was eating his hot dog, his phone rang again.

The caller ID reads "Hank".

"Hey, Rod, how are you? Didn't you secretly hide away and cry all by yourself?"

Hank's rough yet comforting voice reached my ears.

"Fuxk you, Hank. Believe me, I'll cry when I become the governor of California," Rod replied with a smile.

Hank laughed too, and the two chatted casually for a bit before getting down to business. "Seriously, we found Emily's jeans in Nicholas's bedroom."

There were no sealed bags inside, but I found some white crystalline powder that looked like fine salt in my pocket. It had a faint bitter almond smell, so it was probably some kind of cyanide.

I've already taken it to the forensic science department for testing, and we'll know the exact composition soon.

But there is no doubt that Emily was the poisoner.

"You've solved another case, Rhodes, in just one afternoon!"

Listening to Hank's voice, Rod knew that he was trying to comfort himself in a roundabout way.

After all, shooting a suspect and killing a murderer are different in terms of both the subsequent investigation process at the police station and the psychological impact on the officer who fired the shot.

The suspect is only a suspect, but the murderer is already a foregone conclusion.

Hank called Rod as soon as the search was over, partly because of this consideration.

"Thank you, Hank. I'll treat you to a hot dog sometime."

"No problem, when can we reschedule?"

"..."

After hanging up the phone, Rod finished the last bite of his hot dog.

There are still many details to be investigated in the case, such as who made the distorted voice call?

What does Emily mean when she says that New York police are not as good as Los Angeles police?

Why did Nicholas use someone else to kill his wife?

These tasks could only be left to the rest of the team. Rod found the most difficult part of the evidence, and the rest of the interrogation was up to them.

Rod was about to drive back to his grandfather's ranch to rest.

As soon as I sat in the driver's seat, a screen of light appeared in front of me.

[Mission Complete: Illness Outbreak? Malicious Poisoning! Deeper into this case lies an emotion called jealousy.]

A reward will be given for solving this case.

Settlement:

The killer's identity has been confirmed (2/2), 100% complete;

The chain of evidence is complete, 80% complete.

The capture/death of the perpetrator is 100% complete.

[Completion Reward: New equipment information, or more detailed information on older equipment (choose one)]

[Achievement Update: First Blood]

[First kill of the murderer, achievement completed, reward (choose three out of five)]