Chapter 335: Lucky Star John

The screen displayed John's name. Jack stepped into a corner, covering his left ear with one hand and pressing the phone tightly against his right ear.

"Hey, Jack... Uh, what's going on over there? Are you in a war zone?" John's carefree voice came through the line.

"Just watching a little street riot. The mounted police in Chicago look pretty cool. What's up?"

Hearing John's tone, Jack figured it wasn't anything urgent. While he responded, he tried to crane his neck to keep watching the action, but from his angle, he could only see that the water cannon truck had been moved to the back, and the mounted police and riot officers were now engaged with the rioters.

Under the charge of the mounted police, the chaotic crowd quickly crumbled. The riot officers behind them were like farmers grabbing chickens, easily pinning down the rioters, handcuffing them after a quick beating.

John's voice was full of excitement. "So, here's the thing—today, Caris and I set our wedding date. We're planning to spruce up my house, and, well, we might even be getting a nursery ready."

Jack paused. John was in his 40s, and Caris, who had been a classmate of his, wasn't much younger. Planning to have a child at their age was certainly ambitious. Wait, a nursery?

A flash of inspiration hit Jack. The barrier that had blocked his thoughts for days suddenly disappeared, and he finally found the missing link that he and Reid had been struggling to identify.

"John, you're truly a lifesaver."

"Huh? So you're agreeing?" John sounded surprised.

Now it was Jack's turn to be confused. "Agreeing to what?"

"To help me with the nursery renovation, of course! And the backyard—Caris absolutely loves your beautiful backyard." John was practically over the moon.

"No, that's not what I meant... But, fine. Since you asked, I'll help. But it'll cost you—a box of Cohiba Behike 56s."

"A box? Do you even know how much those go for now?" John felt his heart tighten on the other end of the line.

"In exchange, I'll personally bake you a luxurious wedding cake. Caris can choose any design she likes." Jack was in a great mood and chuckled.

"Two boxes. And you handle all the dishes and desserts for the wedding banquet," John countered through gritted teeth.

"Deal. Oh, and by the way, thanks for this call—you might have just saved several lives." Jack's gratitude was sincere.

"Doesn't that mean you should give me a discount?" John joked, still sounding lighthearted.

"Business is business, my friend. But if you want, once this case is over, I could have our boss give you a personal thank-you call."

Knowing Hotchner's serious demeanor, Jack had no doubt that if he asked, Hotch would actually make that call.

"You mean your perpetually stern boss? Spare me! I'd rather face Superintendent Grey and his scowl."

John wanted to keep chatting, but Jack was eager to hang up. "John, we'll talk more when I get back. I've got to go now."

Putting away his phone, Jack hurried over to the group watching the riot. "Hey, guys, I think I've figured something out. Let's find a quieter place."

Five minutes later, the seven-seater Suburban was packed. Along with the team, Boyte had also squeezed in. With the doors closed, the chaotic noise was shut out.

From the driver's seat, Jack turned around, his face lit up with excitement. "An old friend who used to be a building contractor just called me, and it got me thinking..."

Before Jack could finish, Reid, who was also getting excited, interrupted him. "This is a newly developed community. Who are the most common people around such places? Builders, contractors, and construction workers! We completely overlooked them!"

Hotchner's face was etched with frustration. "Damn it, we didn't even think about them. They're everywhere here, yet they blend in so well."

"So, what do we do now? Investigate all the construction companies working nearby?" Boyte was already reaching for his phone.

Though it would still require significant police resources, it was a vast improvement over the previous needle-in-a-haystack approach.

"No, hold on. Listen to me. There's a key detail. My friend asked me to help him renovate a nursery—that's what really sparked my thoughts.

You know how Reid and I have been analyzing the data from those vandalism cases? We think the escalation in the killers' crimes was too rapid—something's missing."

"Remember those first three vandalism incidents? Before the home invasion and the murder of four victims, the first two were straightforward property damage in public places—smashing car windows, wrecking restaurants. Classic, with symbolic motives for venting anger. But what about the third one? A newly renovated villa, a standalone, unoccupied house. The police report mentioned that every room had been trashed, except for a nursery."

"What was the purpose of the vandalism? Why did they shift to targeting private residences? Is it possible that the quadruple murder wasn't the killers' first case? I think the answer lies in that untouched nursery."

As Jack explained, Rossi quickly grasped his point and pulled out his phone to call Garcia.

Soon, Garcia sent over the address of the villa from the third vandalism case. Without wasting any time, the team piled back into the car, and Jack sped off toward the address.

It was already late at night when they arrived. The villa's owners, a young Black couple, were polite and composed despite the late hour and the unexpected visit from a group of FBI agents.

"So, how can I help you?" The man's face was tense; after all, being approached by a swarm of FBI agents in the middle of the night would make anyone anxious.

"Sir, this is related to the vandalism incident at your home. We believe the person who damaged your property is the same individual responsible for the two murders in this area," Rossi said calmly after being invited inside.

"Yes, we're aware. We've seen the reports and the news on TV talking about a series of cases."

The man gestured toward a shotgun hanging above the shoe cabinet by the door.

"Are you saying those thugs might come back?" The woman of the house, visibly pregnant and at least seven or eight months along, asked with a worried expression from behind her husband.

"No, we're concerned that there might have been another murder before the first known one, and it might have happened here." JJ stepped forward to help the woman to a nearby sofa.

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