Reborn: The Rookie Detective Chapter 158 158: 158-Dead

"Goodbye, Joe's gone, oh my god."

"He's sailing down the Mississippi in his canoe."

"His Ivan, the sweetest girl, oh my god!"

"Wild child, let's have so fun on the riverbank!"

When you're in a place, you should listen to the local music. As Hannah tuned the car radio to the local station, the Carpenters' classic song "Jambalaya" started playing. The cheerful lody and catchy lyrics made Jack unconsciously nod and hum along.

Louisiana, also known as the 'Pelican State,' was once a French colony. It wasn't until 1803 that it was sold to the United States, becoming a state.

Just like the capital of that European country, Baton Rouge, where the state capital is located, and New Orleans, famous for its cuisine, have beco the most concentrated gathering places for certain special ethnic groups.

New Orleans, in particular, has beco one of the most dangerous cities in the entire United States since the infamous hurricane of 2005, with its white population dropping to less than 30%.

Jack actually understood why, after Hurricane Katrina, 40,000 National Guard troops were deployed to maintain order rather than conduct disaster relief.

So, after enjoying a wonderful ballet performance in Houston the day before, the two chose Lafayette as their destination today.

The security here is relatively better; at least the n who tried to rob them backed down when they saw Jack's imposing FK 7.5mm.

Ultimately, Jack and Hannah abandoned their plan to stay in the city and opted for a resort hotel in the suburbs. After all, as the state with the largest French-descended population, the Cajun cuisine was not to be missed.

Various spicy wild duck, rabbit, and seafood soups, along with the rice, brought back a taste of ho for one of them.

"I think if you wanted, we could redeem my family's ranch just by selling this crawfish recipe," Hannah sighed contentedly, licking the broth from her fingertips as evening fell on the long riverbank, gazing at the beautiful scenery of the Mississippi Delta.

In Louisiana, the crawfish's place of origin, the people there have shown imnse patience and enthusiasm for this small, aty creature, even influencing several nearby Southern states. For example, Texas, where Hannah was born, hosts a similar beer and crawfish festival every year.

After enjoying the Cajun cuisine at noon, Jack, still not satisfied, bought a whopping six pounds of freshly caught crawfish from the rice paddies. He paid a small tip to use the hotel kitchen and cooked a huge pot of spicy crawfish, which he paired with the local specialty draft beer. The two leisurely whiled away the evening.

Jack was quite full, a rare sight for soone as disciplined as him. He struggled to fall asleep in a deckchair, feeling the cool evening breeze, and let out a long burp that made Hannah laugh uncontrollably.

Unfortunately, a sudden phone call interrupted this pleasant mont. Jack picked up the phone; it was the Wolff brothers, who had arrived in Margrave earlier.

"Jack, I think we might be in trouble. When can you get to Georgia?" Braxton's voice ca through the phone.

Jack's heart tightened. He sat up straight in the deckchair. Hannah, seeing his sudden seriousness, quickly wiped her hands and sat down beside him, listening intently to the conversation.

"We're planning to arrive in Atlanta tomorrow afternoon, and should be able to reach Margrave by tonight. What happened?"

"Chris and I have been stuck in this boring, run-down town for days. We spotted a suspicious guy, and we suspected he was a federal agent, so we followed him. Then we discovered he had soone else on his heels."

Braxton sounded very annoyed; this guy, who had just left the rcenary profession, was clearly not used to the peaceful life in this small town.

"Who was following him? You didn't alert them, did you?"

Jack trusted the Wolff brothers quite a bit. Braxton was a bit impulsive, but Chris was calm enough. With him around, things seed alright. He suddenly rembered the explosion at the LA port that Hannah had ntioned earlier and beca worried again.

"No, it was a group of South Arican rcenaries. I saw their tattoos; they're definitely retired special forces. We only have an old revolver we stole from so thugs. This is a big problem. Can you send the equipnt over as soon as possible?"

Well, no weapons. No wonder this forr rcenary was so frustrated.

"Everything you wanted is ready, don't worry."

Jack reassured Braxton, then continued, "Can you describe the man who looks like a federal agent?"

The phone was handed to Chris, whose voice was much calr.

"A big guy, about 6 feet 2 inches tall, weighing around 200 pounds, under 40 years old, looks very well-mannered, arrived about a week before us, we followed him almost all around town, and found that his target might be the sa as ours, also after the Kleiner Foundation."

Jack felt a surge of excitent; he had actually stumbled upon the plot! From Chris's description, this federal agent was none other than Jack Reacher's brother, the Secret Service agent who died early in the story, Joe Reacher.

"Hannah and I will set off tonight. Before we arrive, please keep an eye on him, uh… provide so protection if possible. He might have so clues about the Kleiner Foundation."

"No problem, we'll wait for you."

Chris hung up the phone decisively.

Six hours later, in the early hours of the morning, as the speeding Firebird crossed the Alabama state border into Georgia, Hannah gently grasped Jack's right hand, which was resting on the gearshift.

Knowing what she was thinking, Jack reassured her gently, "Don't worry, leave everything to . We will definitely find out the truth of what happened back then."

"Thank you, Jack, you've done so much for ."

Before Hannah could finish speaking, another urgent ringtone sounded. When she answered, Braxton's urgent voice ca through the phone.

"Jack, we're in real trouble. Chris was shot, that federal agent, he might be dead."