Chapter 87 Special License Plates

"Why bother with all the hassle? If you're willing to spend money, why not just donate directly to the Douglas Police Department? After receiving the money, the department can use it to hire two new officers and then deploy them to patrol the commercial district."

After hearing Carter's words, Benjamin suddenly smiled. He looked at Carter with a meaningful gaze as he spoke.

"This way, can it work?"

Carter probably knew a little about the fact that American police departments, even other government units, could accept donations from individuals. However, the specifics were unclear to him.

"Of course, after what happened with O'Neil and Truffaut, I think it's time to strengthen the Douglas Police Department. But our finances aren't great, so accepting help from enthusiastic citizens, what's wrong with that? After all, we're all working for Douglas, aren't we?"

"Yes! I love this place!"

"Enthusiastic citizens," Carter nodded vigorously.

Previously claiming to be Carlos's benefactor might not be a problem, but that was just one person, and as a sheriff, Carlos's ability to help him was limited. But now, being the benefactor of the police department! Coincidentally, just having received $200,000, Carter, now financially well-off again, felt a lot more confident.

After leaving Benjamin's office, Carter hurriedly went to the police station. He went straight to Chief William's office and said:

"Give me a figure!"

"Twenty thousand dollars! Per year!"

William, who had received a phone call from Benjamin informing him in advance, smiled broadly. Holding up two slightly chubby fingers, he said directly:

"These two officer positions, you have the right to recommend."

"Haha, thank you, Uncle William, for your trust! I'll arrange for the transfer when I get back!"

Recommendations? Hmm. That's a good choice of words!

"No hurry, you can transfer anytime in the next few days. Thanks again for your contribution. Also, please wait a moment, Carter! Come over here, Carlos!"

Under Carter's puzzled gaze, Chief William called Carlos over and whispered something to him.

"Carter, give me your car keys."

"Car keys? What for?"

As they walked down the hallway of the police station, Carter's confusion grew heavier. But out of trust in Carlos, Carter still took out his car keys from his pocket and handed them over.

"I'll give your car a new license plate. Don't worry, it's a good thing! Just like the 11-99 license plate in California, we also have our own special number range. When you hang this plate, other cops will know you're a friend of our department... Well, let's say, a sponsor. When needed, they'll make things easier for you."

Carlos smirked and leaned in close to Carter's ear, reminding him more bluntly:

"Has your Mustang not revved up yet? With this, you'll be able to rev it up in the future. Remember, don't tell anyone about this."

"I got it."

Carter couldn't help but laugh bitterly. Although he had driven recklessly before, he didn't consider himself a daredevil.

This little donation perk seemed somewhat redundant to him. However, the actions of the Douglas Police Department made Carter realize the importance of dealing with these people if he wanted to succeed in America.

The difference in treatment was all about money! No, it should be, whether you're giving them money or benefits, feeding them.

Thinking about his concerns, after the license plate was changed, Carter set off again, rushing to meet Truffaut.

The meeting place with Truffaut was at a dessert shop in the south of the city, and of course, this location was Carter's idea. After all, he didn't dare to take any risks meeting Truffaut in places like repair shops or breweries, where he was completely unfamiliar.

Seeing O'Neil was at Duke's house, and out of respect for Duke, O'Neil wouldn't harm him even if he met him. But seeing this guy, who knew what might happen?

What was strange was that, according to Carlos's description, Truffaut, who seemed somewhat unapproachable, agreed to the meeting quite readily.

"Carter?"

After parking his car on the roadside near the dessert shop, a man leaning against a Harley Davidson motorcycle, smoking, suddenly spoke.

"I really don't understand why a big man like you chose a place like this to meet a girl. No alcohol, no smoking allowed. I'm Truffaut, by the way. Oh, and by the way, Mary is my mother."

"Huh? You two don't really look alike."

The Truffaut in front of Carter was in his early thirties, with a somewhat weathered face and a full beard. His cheeks were a bit flushed, just like someone who had been drinking, and so was his neck! Redneck, redneck, how could it be called redneck without a red neck?

In addition to his burly figure and his "outlaw" beard, his attire was no different from most motorcycle gang members in American movies. A white tank top, a black leather vest, and a pair of work jeans. There were even some oil stains on them.

With such an external image, let alone associating him with the stern and serious Mrs. Mary, he didn't even look like a mafia boss. Where would you find a mafia boss who personally waited by the roadside for someone? Even if he was waiting for someone, he would just wait, not leaning on a motorcycle smoking. Typically, wouldn't it be a henchman doing that?

Hmm, he seemed to have done that when he was in junior high school. Riding around on motorcycles.

"Just used to it. People have been saying I don't look like her since I was a kid. But don't worry about that. I'm telling you this just to let you know, I don't want to hurt you. So, can we change the place to talk? It's too boring here, no smoking, no drinking, too dull!"

After flicking away his cigarette butt, Truffaut stretched his neck, stood up, and stretched his somewhat stiff waist.

"Dinner time is here. Want to come to my place for a meal? Dare?"

This question put Carter in a dilemma for a moment.

Agreeing seemed a bit hasty. He said he was Mary's son, and that should be enough? Even if he really was, he didn't have much credibility. With Mary in the middle, at most, it could only be considered a topic that would allow them to get closer and eliminate barriers between them in conversation.

But not agreeing seemed a bit wimpy, and so on. After all, he wasn't a teenager in puberty. But on the one hand, Truffaut enthusiastically invited him, readily agreeing to your invitation, and even waited for you for an afternoon. Moreover, he even explicitly stated that he had no ill intentions towards you.

It could be said that he had given Carter enough face. If he were to look for him later, and ask him for something, and he refused at this moment, it would be too detrimental to the subsequent negotiations. Not only did he refuse Truffaut's face, but he also lowered himself in terms of momentum.

Frowning, Carter looked up at Truffaut, who was staring at him with a playful expression. Making a decision, he took a gamble!

"Mr. Truffaut, the treat is on you, a free dinner, why not? Let's go. Also, Mr. Truffaut, can I ride your bike?"