Chapter 58: Big Trouble

Five days before Christmas, Angela didn't need to stay in the office today and went on patrol with Jack.

Given Angela and Wesley's relationship was still in a Schrödinger's state, Jack was a bit hesitant to provoke her. He didn't want to be dragged to a bar after work to listen to her complaints. His super luxurious kitchen was almost complete, and he was hoping to get the burner installed before Christmas to rely on it for the Christmas feast.

The two of them were silent in the car for a while until Angela couldn't help but speak, only to be interrupted by a call from the command center.

"7-A-26 patrol car, location: Mrs. Megan's psychic studio. Silent alarm triggered. Urgent situation. Use sirens."

Jack glanced at the rearview mirror, saw no cars behind, lightly tapped the brakes, and sharply turned the steering wheel, executing a beautiful drift to turn the car around. He then turned on the siren and headed to the location shown on the police computer.

Five minutes later, they got out of the car and entered a uniquely decorated shop. Angela pushed the door open and heard an intense argument between a man and a woman. She immediately drew her Glock, and Jack pulled out his gun as well.

The shop's outer area was set up as a reception room, empty, with the inner area being the studio. The two advanced cautiously with their guns drawn and saw a middle-aged white man, looking agitated, holding a crystal ball, about to smash it onto a woman lying on the ground.

"Tell me, how the hell do you know?!"

Seeing the man's agitation, Angela aimed her gun at him and loudly warned, "LAPD, drop what you have in your hand."

The woman on the ground had delicate makeup and was dressed exotically, looking more like a stripper than a psychic to Jack.

She hurriedly reached out to stop the man's action, "Can you ask him not to throw it and to put it down gently?"

"This crystal ball is worth 900 dollars."

Angela tilted her head to indicate to the man, "You heard her, slow down, be a gentleman."

The middle-aged man, dressed in a high-end suit, wisely complied. Seeing two guns pointed at him, he carefully placed the crystal ball back on the velvet-covered table.

Angela holstered her gun and stepped forward to restrain him.

"Turn around, face the wall."

Jack helped the woman up and asked, "Ma'am, are you okay?"

The woman stood up and looked at Jack, her eyes suddenly lighting up. Her previously sharp voice from the shock turned low and magnetic, full of charm.

"I'm fine. I was reading this lunatic's mind when he suddenly went berserk."

The middle-aged man hurriedly interrupted her.

"Not another word. We have a confidentiality agreement for the psychic consultation."

The woman turned to look at him like he was an idiot.

"No such agreement exists, you jerk."

Angela found a wallet on the man, opened it, and checked the ID inside.

Jack continued questioning the woman, "What exactly did you say to make him so aggressive?"

The woman kept her gaze on Jack, her eyes full of affection, like a lovesick teenager.

"We were talking about relationship issues. I said I saw an image of him with a beautiful woman in the woods, and he went crazy, yelling at me."

Angela and Jack exchanged a glance, finding an unexpected surprise in each other's eyes.

"So, sir, could you explain why her words hit a nerve? Did you recently do something with a woman in the woods?"

"No, it's all a misunderstanding." The man began to panic and make excuses.

Angela was tired of his nonsense and directly contacted the command center via her radio.

"Command center, can you check a name for me, Randy L. Fisher?"

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

The psychic woman was stunned, "Oh my God, I just made it up. I didn't see anything."

"You just made it up? How could that be?" The man's face was full of disbelief.

Angela had already taken out her handcuffs and cuffed him.

The psychic woman kept talking, "Do you think a real psychic would be in a small shop with a musty smell like this?"

Then she turned and looked at Jack with a seductive smile, slowly moving closer, "By the way, I did see a vision of us tonight in my room."

Jack was so scared he took two steps back, opened his mouth but didn't know what to say, and fled the scene.

It seemed the police uniform and someone's handsome face had a charm. Jack had encountered advances while on duty before, even had people slipping their phone numbers into his pocket, but this was the first time he had been directly invited like this.

Angela, used to such situations, placed the suspect in the back seat of the patrol car. She was accustomed to her partner's charm, having seen Hannah and Jack being approached by so-called scouts with lavish promises and a pile of business cards.

After taking the suspect to the police station and completing the paperwork, they resumed their patrol.

Soon after reporting their status to the command center, they received a new task. John and Neela Harper had found a strangled male corpse in the restroom at the Seventh Avenue bus terminal, and they needed to go to the scene for support.

Usually, support meant setting up a police line, maintaining order, and waiting for detectives or the relevant departments, like the Homicide Robbery Division or even the FBI.

But today seemed unusual. After setting up the police line, a bunch of unmarked cars with various logos arrived, including detectives, metropolitan division agents, FBI, DHS (Department of Homeland Security), and even a white bus marked CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention).

As everyone sensed something was wrong, a group of people got off the CDC bus, fully covered, quickly sealing off the entire bus terminal.

John muttered, "This is a big deal."

Everyone present felt something was very wrong.

Zoe approached with a group of people, a middle-aged blonde woman beside her, whose aura was very similar to John's ex-girlfriend and current ambiguous girlfriend, Garris.

Zoe, visibly nervous, spoke to John and Neela Harper but kept glancing at Jack.

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

Neela Harper pointed at John, "He did. He was wearing rubber gloves and checked the wallet on the body."

Jack and Angela raised their hands, "We only looked at the body from the doorway."

Time flies, this novel has been online for almost a month. Please don't criticize my update rate. Even though I'm writing full-time now, I can only stabilize at 4,000 words a day, sometimes a bit more. Previously, I burned through my reserves due to plot issues and sleep problems, costing me 40,000-50,000 words, which was half of my saved work. I'm trying to recover now.

Yesterday, the editor suggested that I publish around May 1st, which makes me feel like I'm going to lose my hair. I'll try to save more chapters to release more when it goes live. Please bear with me. As a new writer, thinking through the plot is challenging, and I need to catch up on some old shows.

You can see my dedication to writing. I'm quite serious about it. I hope you continue to follow the updates. I'm still hoping to get enough collections to make it on Sanjiang before it goes live, ensuring I can make a living on Qidian.

If any readers can help promote this book, I'd be very grateful. I haven't bought any votes, so I'm relying on your support. Thank you very much!

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