Cindy Bout's home.

The black Dodge had disappeared, and from the outside, Cindy Bout's house appeared no different from before.

However, it was a different story inside.

Cindy Bout's daughter sat on the couch with red eyes, looking troubled.

Luke and David were talking quietly to one another nearby.

There were also two officers from the Los Angeles County Police Department who had come to provide support.

Furthermore, more state troopers and county police were tracking the suspect vehicle.

This was Luke's suggestion, to tighten the net on the inside while appearing lax on the outside.

David asked quietly, "Where do you think Cole took Cindy?"

After thinking for a moment, Luke said, "If we knew the license plate number of the car Cole was using, it would be much easier to track him."

David nodded, "Yeah, there are too many black SUVs, and it's very difficult to track them. Moreover, this isn't Los Angeles City; there are pitifully few cameras."

Luke pondered for a moment, "Remember the restaurant called 'Golden Corral' we went to yesterday? That white lady saw Cole; maybe she saw his car too.

Instead of sitting here doing nothing, we might as well talk to her. Perhaps she can provide some clues, such as the license plate."

David glanced at the two county officers nearby, "I'll stay here on watch; you go."

"OK, do you need me to bring anything back?"

"Just something to fill the stomach will be fine."

"See you tonight," Luke said, standing by the window and looking outside to see if there were any suspicious individuals before leaving the house and walking a few hundred meters to the Dodge.

After driving for about fifteen minutes, Luke arrived at 'Golden Corral' restaurant.

The white lady greeted, "Good evening, handsome young man from Los Angeles, I'm pleased to see you again."

"Me too."

"What would you like to eat?"

Luke smiled, "Kutta."

"OK, this dish will definitely not disappoint you, but it's best paired with a beer—it will taste even better."

"Great idea, I could use a beer to relieve some fatigue." These past two days had been an overload of work, and he hadn't rested well last night, leaving him feeling very fatigued.

Drinking a little alcohol could liven up his spirits.

In less than twenty minutes, the white lady brought over a tray, placed it on Luke's table, and lifted the domed lid.

A delicious meaty aroma wafted through the air.

The plate contained a pan-fried fish topped with a thick sauce, bedded on onions and Shiitake mushrooms, looking very appetizing.

"Didn't you say this dish had lamb in it?"

The white lady laughed mysteriously, "You'll know soon enough."

Luke took a bite of the fish with his fork. The fish was tender, boneless, and had a hint of lamb fat fragrance.

Looking closer, it seemed there was stuffing in the fish's belly.

He scooped up a spoonful—it was lamb stuffing, very juicy with spices like cracked black pepper and minced onions, mixing well with the fresh taste of fish.

It was his first time trying this dish; the flavor was good, albeit a bit rich, but a sip of the cold beer was just right to cut through the grease.

In less than twenty minutes, Luke finished his meal and called the white lady over to settle the bill.

"How was the taste?"

"Very good, it's the best dish I've had in a while."

"I'm glad you liked it," the white lady beamed with pride.

Luke paid for his meal and left an additional ten US dollars as a tip.

"Wow, you're too generous."

"You deserve it."

"Thank you."

"Can we sit down and talk?"

"Of course," the white lady readily agreed, considering the generous tip.

"Have you seen that FBI agent today?"

"No."

"Seen his car?"

"I've been so busy; I haven't paid attention to any of the cars passing by. I can't even remember if he drove here," the white lady said curiously looking at Luke,

"Why are you asking about the FBI?"

Luke didn't hide anything, showing his badge, "I'm with the LAPD, here to investigate a case. The FBI agent you saw is likely an imposter. If you see him again, remember to contact me."

"Oh my god, someone dares to impersonate an FBI agent? Is he dangerous?"

"Yes, so don't do anything rash if you see him, just call me," Luke handed her a business card.

"I understand," the white lady accepted the card.

Luke asked a few more questions, but the white lady couldn't provide any valuable clues. The conversation ended when the boss called her to serve food.

Luke left the restaurant feeling somewhat dejected.

Investigating in a different city makes one passive. If this were in downtown Los Angeles, they could pull surveillance footage and track the suspect's vehicle immediately.

But in Haim City, this method was not very effective.

Luke drove back to Cindy Bout's house, coincidentally passing by the Telson mansion.

Instinctively, he glanced over and vaguely saw lights inside the mansion.

This wasn't right.

Could Hans Miller have come back?

Shouldn't he be at the Los Angeles Police Department identifying a body?

With that thought in mind, Luke decided to check it out and pulled over to the side of the road.

He parked the car and turned off the ignition, chambered a round in his handgun, put on a bulletproof vest, and quietly approached the mansion.

He climbed over the wall to get a look and saw, with the help of the moonlight, that there appeared to be a parked vehicle inside.

Squinting to see better, the car seemed black, an SUV model.

Suddenly, something came to mind.

Luke didn't act rashly, he climbed down the wall and sent a message to David, calling for backup.

Is this car Cole's?

Why is he here?

Didn't he kidnap Cindy?

Does he think the most dangerous place is the safest?

Or did he come here looking for something?

Could the painting have been hidden by Cindy in the manor?

With these questions flashing through his mind, Luke grew increasingly curious.

"Wuu wuu..."

A muffled sound came faintly from the manor, like a cry made through a mouth that someone had tried to muffle with their nose.

Luke felt that he couldn't wait any longer, or something bad might happen.

He climbed back up the wall but still didn't see any trace of Cole.

He climbed down the wall quietly and stealthily, crawling toward the direction of the black car.

The closer he got, the clearer the wailing sound.

The slower and more careful he crawled.

Luke crawled under the car and looked again at the distance, spotting a figure in front of the stone house.

Why is there only one person?

The standing person's appearance was not clear, but judging by the body shape, it should be a man.

Where then, was Cindy?

Listening closely to the wailing sound, it seemed to come from the same direction.

Luke guessed that Cindy was likely lying or crouching on the ground, hidden from view by the weeds.

According to Luke's character, he wanted to hold back.

Wait for David and the others to come before making a move.

But judging from the current situation, Cindy was in some danger.

If Cole got the painting and decided to silence her, if Cindy died, the police would lose an important witness.

Weighing the pros and cons, Luke took a deep breath and decided to capture Cole by himself.

He continued to crawl forward, holding a high-powered flashlight in his left hand and a gun in his right.

At this time, the twilight actually worked in Luke's favor, making it very difficult for the other party to spot him.

After crawling a while longer, Luke could see the situation ahead more clearly and could faintly hear the man's voice.

"Cindy, you said the painting was hidden in the manor. I brought you here, and now you say you don't know where it is, are you playing me again?"

"Wuu wuu..." Cindy seemed to want to speak, but couldn't.

Cole pulled the towel from her mouth, "Don't shout, or you know the consequences."

Cindy said weakly, "I really don't know where the painting is."

"Bang!" Cole kicked her fiercely in the chest, "Fuck, are you looking to die? How dare you deceive me."

"You've been beating me and threatening to kill my daughter. I had no choice but to say a place at random."

"Good! Good!" Cole said with a furious laugh, "You dare play me, I'll go kill your daughter right now."

Cindy shouted, "Go ahead, hurry up, the police might be waiting at my house, you'd be walking right into their trap."

"Shut up, keep it down, or I'll kill you right now. Since you don't know where the painting is, there's no use keeping you alive." Cole pulled out a dagger and threatened, "Last chance, where is the painting?"

"I really don't know where the painting is."

"Then you can die."

"No, don't kill me, killing me wouldn't benefit you at all."

"I've hidden some money, we can run away together. I won't snitch, I'm just as afraid of the police as you are."

"Where did you hide the money?"

"Let me go first, then I'll tell you."

Cole laughed coldly, "Do you take me for a fool? I've had enough, you can die now." Cole raised the dagger, aiming to stab the prostrate Cindy.

"LAPD, don't move, or I'll shoot!" A powerful beam of light came, shining right in Cole's face.

"Fuck!" Cole turned his head away, turning to run.

"Bang..." Luke fired.

With Cole holding the dagger, Luke had a justifiable reason to shoot.

In America, that's just how it works.

Cole suddenly threw himself to the ground, rolling a few times to dodge the bullets.

Still, one bullet hit his left arm.

"Ugh!" Biting his teeth and shivering with pain, Cole grimaced.

"Bang..."

The sound of gunfire continued, and even Cole was stunned, not expecting the cop to be so fierce.

He didn't think he had been too aggressive.

Cole also drew his handgun but hesitated for a moment, not daring to shoot back.

The cop who fired had turned off his flashlight, and Cole couldn't see where the other was. Firing blindly into the dark, he would have a very low hit rate.

Moreover, once he fired, he might face even more intense gunfire.

All LAPD are a bunch of bastards.

Luke was also frustrated, firing so many shots and not knowing if he had hit his target.

The darkness played a part, but mainly because his marksmanship was average.

"Wuu wuu..."

At that moment, there was a noise outside, probably the backup arriving.

Luke reloaded with a new magazine, "Cole, you're under arrest, stand up immediately and raise your hands above your head!"

With his arm injured and blood gushing out, Cole made a face in pain.

Knowing that it would be difficult to escape, he slowly stood up, "I surrender, please don't shoot, I've been shot in the arm."