America: The Gear-Up Detective

"There's no need to worry about that..." Hearing Rhodes' question, Connor thought for a moment and said to him, "Although Gabriella Payne's mental state is worrying, based on my many years of experience..."

First, Gabriella has resisted seeing a psychiatrist for many years, so there is no direct medical evidence to prove that she is mentally ill.

Secondly, you've seen the plans she wrote in her diary; they're logically clear, well-thought-out, and have well-defined goals. She even patiently followed Evelyn for six months just to imitate her—that's not the behavior of a mentally ill person.

Then, Connor patted Rhodes on the shoulder and said in a deep voice, "There's no use thinking too much. We can only work towards first-degree murder. As for whether the judge will ultimately sentence him, let's leave that to the prosecutor and the lawyers."

Afterwards, Rod returned to the conference room and began organizing the files.

In the afternoon, near the end of the workday, Connor stood up and said, "This case is basically closed. Evan, please follow up on it."

Evan nodded, indicating that there was no problem.

Connor then added, "We've been working non-stop for the past few weeks, so I'm planning to have everyone take turns resting this week. What do you think?"

"Cool!"

"Thank you, Captain!"

"Really, Captain? How many days off do you get?"

Almost everyone was excited; nobody dislikes a holiday, especially since these past two weeks have been quite busy.

The week before last, we handled the case of the body found and Emily's poisoning, and then there was a shooting at the police station over the weekend. The entire LAPD was on edge for the next week. Then last week, we solved a cold case from fifty years ago. I was thinking of having a relaxing and enjoyable weekend, but then we encountered this case.

Fortunately, the efforts of the past few days have not been in vain, and the case has finally been solved.

Connor wasn't an unreasonable leader; he arranged for everyone to take turns resting.

"The weekend will be considered a two-day work week, plus one day of compensation, so everyone will have three days off," Connor added, but before everyone could raise their hands and cheer, he quickly followed up:

"Because someone has to be on duty, this time the shifts will be two people taking a break each time. The rest of the staff will work as usual."

After get off work, Yellow Rose Bar.

This is the first time in two weeks that everyone has gathered here.

"These past two weeks have been so fulfilling, I felt like two months had passed." Jackson leaned back on the sofa, holding a bottle of ice-cold beer and taking big gulps.

Hank, also holding a beer and toasting with Jackson, chuckled after hearing his words and said, "It's mainly because our case-solving efficiency has been too high these past two weeks, so the dispatch center keeps assigning us new cases."

Evan was a drinker, and soon after everyone sat down, he picked up his second glass and sipped it slowly, his eyes clear and showing no signs of drunkenness.

Connor walked over with a mixed cocktail, sat down, and slowly sipped it. Then he said, "So, have you decided? Who wants to take the vacation first?"

The group exchanged glances, then Rod raised his hand and said, "I'd like to take a few days off first."

Jackson also gestured, "Me too."

Connor nodded. "Okay, then you two can take the day off. You don't need to come in tomorrow. Remember to be at work on Friday."

Then everyone started chatting casually, deliberately avoiding any discussion about the case. After all, they were there to relax, and if they were discussing work-related matters in a bar, they might as well stay in the meeting room.

Of course, everyone was a policeman, so they all drank relatively restrainedly, except for Evan, who always had a glass in his hand whenever he went to a bar.

As everyone got into the conversation, the atmosphere at the table became lively.

This bar is owned by a retired former LAPD officer, and at this time of day, most of the people gathering and spending money here are detectives from the Detective Agency.

Almost everyone looked familiar.

At this point, Rod and Jackson left their seats and went to the bar. Jackson drank quite a bit, but Rod only ordered a glass of ice-cold beer and slowly drank it by himself, and he hasn't finished it yet.

In front of the bar.

Jackson ordered another drink, glanced around the bar, then his eyes lit up, and he nudged Rod with his elbow.

"Hey bro, look at seven o'clock!"

Rod instinctively looked over and saw a scantily clad Black woman leaning against a bar stool in the spot Jackson was pointing to, holding a cocktail and drinking it alone while looking around.

Rhodes glanced at her, but wasn't interested. Apart from her skin color, her thick lips and overly voluptuous figure really didn't fit Rhodes's aesthetic standards.

But Jackson got excited. After saying that, he picked up his glass, left Rod, and walked over: "Bro, don't contact me these next few days. I'll probably be very busy."

As Jackson started chatting with the woman, Rod raised his middle finger, but Jackson turned away as if he hadn't seen it.

Rod sat alone at the bar, not wanting to go back to the booth, and just sipped the little bit of wine he hadn't finished.

For some reason, I thought of Liu Qingxi again. Her dormitory has been sealed off these past few days, and she has been staying in a hotel. I wonder how she is doing.

Presumably to avoid putting pressure on Rod, and also to escape the possible harsh reality, Liu Qingxi has rarely contacted Rod in the past two days.

"I'm off tomorrow, I'll go see her."

Rhodes's mind gradually went blank.

Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out not far away, followed by the sound of a wine glass shattering.

"Your son of b..."

"No wonder you wanted to break up with me, you've hooked up with someone else!"

"Slap!" The sound of a slap followed immediately, so loud that it was clearly audible even in the noisy bar.

"Hey, man. We just met today. No matter what, hitting a woman isn't a good idea."

Rod initially didn't want to pay attention. This was a bar, and even though it was close to the police station, it couldn't stop these people from acting impulsively under the influence of alcohol.

But then he seemed to hear Jackson's voice again. After thinking for a moment, Rod turned around and looked behind him.

Sure enough, right where they had been, the black woman with thick lips and an overly full figure was now standing behind Jackson, covering her face and sobbing softly.

Meanwhile, Jackson was confronting a black man with tattoos all over his arms, wearing a large gold chain, and with a muscular physique.

The black man was about the same height as Jackson, but more than twice as strong. Seeing Jackson's unfazed confrontation, Rod thought for a moment, put down his glass, and silently moved to a spot not far from Jackson.

We were colleagues after all, and we had a good relationship, so I should at least support Jackson.

At this moment, the black man reached out and pushed Jackson. Jackson's slightly 'thin' body stepped back, but he still remembered to protect the woman behind him.

This action further provoked the burly black man in front of him.

Taking advantage of Jackson's backward movement and loss of balance, he darted forward and kicked Jackson in the chest again.

Jackson fell backward, his body crashing into a nearby table. Glasses and bottles on the table shattered on the floor with a jarring sound.

Customers in the distance finally noticed the conflict, and the noisy bar fell silent for a moment.

But Rod's eyes lit up.

Just as the burly black man extended his leg to kick Jackson, Rod's excellent dynamic vision allowed him to spot the leather belt around the man's waist emitting a faint golden light.

"Another piece of equipment!"