Seeing the old man's reaction, Rossi was basically certain that Reid's profile was completely accurate. He then gave Jack a wink.
"Hello, I'm Agent Tavelor, and these are my colleagues. One of you stay here, the rest of you co with us. We're looking for a big guy with intellectual disabilities; we should be able to easily spot him in a crowd."
Jack proactively greeted the local police officers who had co to reinforce them, speaking quietly to them for a few monts.
A middle-aged officer with a small mustache nodded, slightly nodding to his partner beside him, signaling him to stay. Then, with a wave of his hand, the other two officers followed JJ and Emily respectively.
Seeing the FBI agents leading the police into the scene to search, the old man's expression beca one of shock and fear. Finally, his emotions turned into dejection as he leaned weakly against the pickup truck.
"Okay," he said, his voice carrying a hint of relief, but mostly sadness and helplessness.
"It was all my fault. He didn't an to hurt them."
Rossi breathed a sigh of relief, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his heart; the heavy feeling had finally disappeared.
The old man continued, "That day, I was busy repairing a broken bull-riding machine, and he just disappeared from my sight."
"He ant no harm, he just wanted to see the girl again. He liked her and wanted to play with her, but he went into the wrong room, into the father's room. The father was very angry and took out an axe."
"He chased Joey with the axe and attacked him with it, just like that…"
"That's understandable, isn't it? Joey has never hurt anyone, but he was chopped by the axe, so he went crazy, but he regretted it as soon as he did it and even carried them back to bed."
Rossi turned his head away, unable to listen any longer, and gestured to Reid and the remaining officer to handcuff the man.
The old man didn't resist, but his emotions beca agitated, angry and sad, and his voice grew louder and louder.
"It's all my fault, my fault! I was too late, too late! I couldn't save them!"
"But every year when we co back here, I take him there to see them, to remind him, to make him rember everything he did, and to have him bring so toys for the children."
"He never forgot, never, I have to promise that. He's always been obedient, he's a good boy!"
anwhile, Jack and his n spotted their target: a burly man, as large as a bear, with haphazardly applied clown makeup.
He was incredibly conspicuous, holding a broom that looked ridiculously large compared to his size, cleaning up trash. He was easily recognizable in the open space.
The instant their eyes t, Jack instinctively reached for his holster. His size was intimidating, like Shaquille O'Neal, but a lot fatter. The middle-aged officer with the mustache next to him imdiately drew his pistol, his expression becoming extrely tense.
"JJ, Emily!" Seeing the guy drop his broom and run, Jack shouted to the other two groups and quickly followed.
"Daddy! Daddy!" the fat clown called out as he ran, only to be caught red-handed by the other two groups who had co running at the sound. Upon seeing him, everyone instinctively drew their sidearms.
The clown frantically searched for hiding places, finally plunging headfirst into a pile of undone tarpaulins.
He desperately shoved his head inside, oblivious to the fact that most of his body was still sticking out, seemingly thinking that this would hide him from detection.
"Put your weapons away!" Jack pressed down on the Glock pistol that the officer beside him was pointing at the clown.
"Leave it to ."
With that, he took the handcuffs from his waist and easily subdued the still-crying clown.
"Joey! Joey!" Rossi rushed over from the other side with the old man, who was already handcuffed.
"Help , Daddy, help , Daddy!" The simple-minded clown showed no intention of resisting, crying like a bullied child.
"Don't resist, Joey, don't hurt him, he won't resist, good boy, he really is a good boy, he won't resist."
The old man knelt on the ground, letting out a heart-wrenching wail.
"Damn it." Seeing this, JJ stepped aside and quickly put away her pistol.
"It feels like we've beco the bad guys." Emily muttered softly beside her, helping Jack pull the clown up from the ground and hand him over to the police officers nearby.
"I hate this kind of thing," Reid said, walking up to Jack. "It's like a tragedy deliberately staged. Every character has a predetermined ending, just to elicit a single tear from the audience."
"That's why I hate tragedies, whether it's a stage play or a movie. Life is bitter enough; there's no need to add this unnecessary spice."
Jack agreed, standing to the side with his arms crossed, watching the poor father and son being led into the police car. So things are already predetermined, and even with his extraordinary abilities, he was powerless to change them.
"Fate always reminds us unexpectedly that we are ultimately just mortals." Rossi sighed, gesturing for everyone to get in the car.
"Co back with for a drink. Anyway, I hope I can get a good night's sleep tonight and not be woken up by nightmares."
Before Jack even drove back to the hotel, Rossi himself had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, even snoring softly.
Jack parked the car in the parking lot, not imdiately turning off the engine. Everyone had seen Rossi's condition, and they all tacitly remained in the car, waiting quietly, hoping to let him sleep even just a few more minutes.
"Do you think he'll leave the FBI again after this case?" Emily asked the group in a low voice.
"He's very wealthy and has enjoyed such a long and comfortable retirent. If it weren't for this case, he wouldn't consider returning to the FBI, right?"
"Now that the case is closed, do you think it's possible…"
The group exchanged glances, their reasoning telling them the possibility was high, but emotionally, they were all reluctant to let him go.
Although the task force had only been established for a short ti, they had developed a strong bond and were becoming more like family. They all knew how rare it was to have a superior who could influence the agency.
If Rossi left, the newly stabilized task force would inevitably face challenges. Their benefits were the envy of many. Although the actual inco difference wasn't significant, the private jet access, independent offices, and the freedom to choose missions were all enviable.
Any one of these advantages alone would drive the FBI's specialized special operations teams mad with jealousy, not to ntion the other units within the BAU who were constantly being bossed around but couldn't even get a field mission.
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