Despite high hopes, Garcia's efforts left Jack somewhat disappointed. After spending half the day digging through records, she came up empty-handed.
"Yes, dear, I dug as deep as I could, but I couldn't find any record of alcohol purchases on the nights the victims disappeared," Garcia explained. "I even searched for my favorite 'Irish coffee'—that delicious whiskey-coffee cocktail—but nothing came up."
She continued excitedly, "I also checked ATM transactions, thinking they might have withdrawn extra cash, but no luck there either."
Rossi, shaking his head at Garcia's enthusiasm, smiled. "Thank you for your hard work, Garcia. As a reward, I'll ask Jack to make you a special 'Irish coffee' when we get back. You'll love it."
Jack opened his mouth in protest, recalling the fiasco with the pineapple pizza Rossi had "gifted" him last time. "Irish coffee" might not be available, but how about "Guizhou Huairen coffee"? He shook his head at the thought.
The team turned back to the original question: how did the killer pick out his victims? Jack voiced the question on everyone's minds, "If the killer is luring people from the street, how is he pinpointing those who fit his criteria? There must be a setting where he can spend time getting to know them first, listening to their troubles…"
Jack trailed off as an idea hit him. The others, seeing his sudden pause, turned to him, and then followed his gaze toward Rossi.
"What are you thinking?" Jack asked.
"Who could get someone to spill their troubles and get drunk—without spending a penny?" Rossi's question made everyone realize the answer.
"A bartender who loves to hear stories!"
---
"Do you know how many bars and clubs there are in South Bay? And that's not even counting hotels, restaurants, or the part-time bartenders working at private parties," Chief Parker groaned after hearing the team's deduction in the meeting room.
The group turned to Reid, expecting him to provide some statistics, but he held up his hands defensively. "Don't look at me like that! No agency keeps track of that kind of data."
It seemed even their human encyclopedia had his limits. Jack shifted his focus away from Reid, struck by another thought.
"If the killer is a bartender, wouldn't he already be used to hearing complaints?" Jack said, explaining, "Unemployment, failed investments, bankruptcy—those are things a bartender might hear about every day. Even if the killer experienced similar problems recently, it wouldn't normally trigger such a violent response."
Emily agreed, "There has to be something more significant. Just going through these struggles wouldn't lead to a killing spree, even if the killer has mental health issues and believes they're 'showing mercy' to those in pain. There must be a specific trigger that resonates deeply with the killer."
"So, what hits a middle-aged person the hardest?" Hotch, as a fellow middle-aged man, answered quickly. "Losing a job, family, or house. But what causes that?"
"Betrayal in a relationship!" Rossi concluded decisively.
Emily summarized, "The killer's 'mercy' is directed at heartbroken individuals."
Hotch and JJ stood up almost in unison. "We need to re-interview the victims' families."
---
Interviewing the families took hours, with each victim having several relatives. By the time the team finished, it was already 9 PM.
"As we suspected, all the victims had recently gone through emotional turmoil," Hotch said as he rapidly flipped through the interrogation notes. "In each case, the breakup was due to infidelity."
Jack exchanged a glance with Rossi and said, "And we've also cracked the mystery of the body wrapping. Sean Taylor and Joe Krause were the ones who cheated, which is why their bodies weren't wrapped."
Emily nodded in understanding. "The killer feels more compassion for the betrayed and takes out his anger on those who were unfaithful."
Chief Parker, who had been observing the BAU team's meticulous work, seemed more relaxed now. He had grown to respect their process and was feeling more confident that the case would soon be solved.
"Get some rest, everyone. I'll make sure this information gets to every officer on patrol tonight," Parker assured them.
It had been a long day, and neither Jack nor JJ felt like going out for their usual evening date. Jack returned home, where his backyard garden had been left unattended for almost a week. He spent half the night tidying up the vegetable patch under his two mulberry trees.
He harvested the ripe chili peppers—some to dry, some to keep fresh in the fridge for making beef chili sauce later. The overgrown lettuce and other leafy greens were tilled back into the soil, and Jack pulled out the weeds, sprinkled some fertilizer, and planted fresh seeds.
This time, he focused on beans—edamame, the green soybeans that thrived in spring and summer. They would be ready to harvest by the end of summer. He also planted various types of beans and melons. Though it was a bit late in the season, Los Angeles' mild winters meant he didn't have to worry about frost.
After a night of work, Jack finally showered and went to bed around 3 AM, which was still early by his standards. Despite needing only three hours of sleep a day, Jack savored the luxury of sleeping in. Who doesn't love sleeping late, after all?
Waking up in the soft morning sunlight, Jack stayed in bed for a while before pulling open the curtains. His phone rang again, signaling the start of a new day.
After a quick breakfast, Jack drove to Redondo Beach, where another body had been discovered—this time, a woman.
"You've got energy for days," Hotch remarked, arriving at the crime scene just as Jack pulled up in his Firebird. Hotch, looking visibly worn out, couldn't help but comment on Jack's fresh appearance.
Jack patted Hotch sympathetically on the shoulder, noting the dark circles under his eyes. With a baby at home, Hotch's life wasn't getting any easier.
After showing their IDs, they crossed the police tape to find Chief Parker standing beside a dumpster. Hearing their footsteps, Parker turned around, his face just as exhausted as Hotch's.
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