The World of American Drama: From the Los Angeles Patrol

Chapter 58
There are still five days before Christmas, today Angela doesn't have to sit in the office, and patrols the streets with Jack.

Given that the relationship between Angela and Wesley is still in a Schrödinger state recently, Jack doesn't want to provoke this eldest sister, or he might be dragged by her to the bar to drink and complain after work. His super luxurious big kitchen is almost finished. I was still thinking about whether I could get the stove done before Christmas, so I decided to rely on it for the Christmas dinner.

The two were silent in the car for a long time, and finally Angela couldn't help but wanted to speak, but was interrupted by a call from the command center.

"7-A-26 police car, location, Mrs. Meghan's psychic studio, triggering a silent siren, the situation is urgent, and the whistle opens the way."

Jack glanced at the rearview mirror. There was no car behind him. He tapped the brakes and slammed the steering wheel. With a beautiful drift, he turned the car around. At the same time, he sounded the siren and rushed towards the location displayed on the police computer.

Five minutes later, the two got out of the car and walked into a shop with a unique decoration. Angela opened the door and heard a fierce man and woman arguing inside. She pulled out the Glock and Jack pulled out the gun.

The outside of the shop has been set up as a reception room, empty, and the inside is a studio. Two people walk forward with guns on guard. When they enter the inside, they see a middle-aged white man with an excited expression, holding a crystal ball in his hand, trying to smash it down. woman on the ground.

"Answer me, tell me right away, how the hell do you know?!"

Seeing the middle-aged white man's agitated expression, Angela pointed the gun at him and warned loudly: "LAPD, throw away what you're holding."

The woman who fell on the ground had exquisite makeup and exotic clothes. In Jack's view, she looked more like a stripper than a psychic.

She quickly reached out to try to stop the middle-aged white man's movement: "Can you tell him not to throw it, and put it down gently?"

"This crystal ball is worth $900."

Angela tilted her head to signal the middle-aged white man: "You heard me, move slowly, be a gentleman."

The middle-aged white man in a high-end suit was very interesting. Seeing two pistols pointed at him, he carefully put the crystal ball back on the velvet-covered table.

Angela put away her pistol and stepped forward to control him.

"Turn around and face the wall."

Jack pulled the fallen woman up and asked, "Ma'am, are you all right?"

The woman stood up and looked at Jack, her eyes suddenly lit up, and her voice, which had been a little shrill because of fright, suddenly became low, and became a little more charming.

"I'm fine. I was reading the mind of this lunatic just now, and this guy suddenly went crazy and had a violent outburst."

The middle-aged white man hastily interrupted her.

"You are not allowed to say a word. I have a confidentiality agreement with you on psychic consultation."

The female psychic turned her head to look at him, as if looking at an idiot.

"There's no such agreement, you bastard."

Angela found the wallet from the guy, opened it to check the ID inside.

Jack continued to ask the female psychic: "What exactly did you say that caused him to be rough on you?"

The female psychic continued to look at Jack with rolling eyes, like a little girl in love.

"I was talking to him about our relationship and I said I saw a picture of him in the woods with a beautiful woman and then he was like crazy and yelled at me."

Angela and Jack looked at each other, each finding the surprise of winning the lottery in each other's eyes.

"So this gentleman, can you tell me why, what she said just hit your private matter? Did you do something to a certain woman in the woods recently?"

"No, it's all a misunderstanding." The middle-aged white man began to argue in a panic.

Angela was too lazy to talk nonsense with him, so she turned on the walkie-talkie and contacted the command center.

"Command Center, look up a name for me, Randy L. Fisher."

The command center responded almost instantly: "7-A-26 police car, please note that the suspect's wife was reported missing six weeks ago."

The female psychic at the side was stunned: "My God, I actually just made it up, I didn't see anything."

"You just made it up? How is it possible?" The middle-aged white man's face was full of disbelief.

Angela has already taken out the handcuffs and handcuffed him.

The female psychic was still chattering: "Do you think real psychics would receive customers in this kind of musty smelling shop?"

Then she turned her head and looked at Jack with a charming face, slowly getting closer: "Speaking of which, I really have a picture in front of me, the two of us will be in my room tonight."

Jack was so frightened that he quickly took two steps back, opened his mouth and didn't know how to answer, and fled directly.

I don’t know if it’s because the police uniform has a lethal effect on someone’s handsome face. It’s not like I haven’t encountered someone who took the initiative when on duty before, and even put a phone number in his pocket, but it’s as straightforward as this female psychic. It's the first time I've been invited.

Angela took the suspect into the back seat of the police car as usual, and was used to her partner's ability to attract others. When Hannah and Jack were patrolling together, she often saw them together He was stopped by some so-called scouts, and a bunch of business cards were stuffed after all kinds of hype promises.

After escorting the suspect into the police station and completing the formalities, this guy was naturally in charge of the police detective who took the case at the time, and the two continued to return to the police car, ready to go back on the road.

As a result, just after reporting the status to the command center, a new task was sent. John and Nila Harper found a strangled male body in the bathroom of the Seventh Avenue bus terminal, and they needed to rush to the scene for support .

The so-called support usually means helping to put up a cordon in the past to maintain order, and then wait for the police detectives or the relevant departments assigned to the case, such as the Robbery and Murder Division or even the FBI.

But today seems to be a bit abnormal. Before the four of them had finished pulling the cordon, a large number of black cars with various signs came, including not only the detectives from the Crime Squad, the Robbery and Murder Division, Jack also saw the FBI, DHS (Department of Homeland Security) and even a white bus with the CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) logo.

Just when everyone felt bad, a large group of guys who got off the CDC bus and covered themselves tightly quickly blocked the entire bus terminal.

John muttered to himself: "This battle is a bit big."

Everyone present felt that something was wrong.

Zoe brought a group of people to the front of the four of them. The blond middle-aged woman standing beside her was very similar to John's ex-girlfriend and current girlfriend, Carice.

Zooey's expression was tense, she was clearly talking to John and Neila Harper, but her eyes glanced at Jack who was on the side intentionally or unintentionally.

"Hey, did either of you touch the dead body?"

Nila Harper pointed to John: "He touched it, checked the wallet on the body with rubber gloves."

Both Jack and Angela raised their hands: "We only took a look at the corpse at the door."

　Time flies. It’s been almost a month since this novel was uploaded. Please don’t complain about my update volume. I’m writing full-time now and it’s only 4K a day. Occasionally, I can get a little more. Before, I spent four hours because of stuck plots and sleep problems. The [-]-word manuscript is more than half of my manuscript, and I am trying to recover it in the past two days.

　　As a result, yesterday the editor suggested that I put it on the shelves around May [-]st. I suddenly felt that I was going to lose my hair. I tried my best to save some more manuscripts and try to get a few more chapters on the shelves. Please forgive me, it is really a newcomer codeword, this plot Thinking too hard, I will add some old dramas that I don't have a deep impression on later.

　　Everyone can see my writing attitude. It should be regarded as more serious. I hope everyone will keep reading before it goes on the shelves. Being able to have enough collections is guaranteed to allow me to make a living at the starting point.

　　Interested book lovers can help promote this book, I have never voted, so I can only ask everyone, thank you very much!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)