The familiar scene of washing up unfolded once again, with a temporary tent set up. Jack and Emily awkwardly cleaned up, separated only by a flimsy curtain.
In truth, Jack was the only one feeling embarrassed. Emily, on the other hand, was almost ready to compliment her best friend Jeje on her good fortune in snagging a guy with such well-defined chest muscles.
They had found the radiation source: a light green glass crystal the size of a thumb, stored in an old jewelry box. Experts suspected it was similar to "Alamogordo glass," a product formed at the center of a nuclear explosion.
In 1945, when the first atomic bomb in human history was detonated near Alamogordo, New Mexico, the immense energy fused the quartz in the desert sand, creating this type of radioactive glass crystal.
Any nuclear test conducted in the desert afterward produced similar glass crystals. Back when the dangers of radiation were not well understood, some of these crystals were even used to make jewelry.
It seemed the appearance of this radiation source was an accident. After CDC experts confirmed that it had not caused any harm to the surrounding environment or objects, Jack and Emily took a large box of women's clothing evidence back to Denver.
Diana Foster, the murdered real estate agent, was found completely naked. Jeje got in touch with her relatives, who provided a description of the clothes she had been wearing before she disappeared.
Emily then sifted through the pile of women's clothing, which had been altered to several sizes too large, and found an item that had once belonged to Diana Foster. It, too, was covered in stains.
"So, how many victims might there be?" Jill Moss tried hard to hide her excitement this time, but Jack, ever observant, still noticed her legs trembling slightly.
"We don't know yet, but there's a strong possibility this is a serial killer. Jack, notify Garcia to expand the screening scope. Include all missing and murdered women cases from nearby states. We need to prepare ourselves for another 'Green River' killer," Hotchner instructed.
"Could he be bisexual? Considering some of these clothes might be ones he bought for himself," Jill Moss suggested, implying they should include potential male victims in their investigation.
Reid chimed in, "Actually, most cross-dressers are heterosexual, especially when it comes to sex offenders."
So, cross-dressers—especially the more aggressive ones—are typically heterosexual? Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He had just learned a new bit of trivia.
"I think we can still try investigating the crime scene, even though some time has passed. It's a basement, so if it hasn't been renovated, there should still be some traces left."
Ever since Jack had advanced his forensic skills to the proficient level, he had been itching to reach mastery. He pictured himself, a psychological expert skilled in forensics and crime scene investigation, impressing everyone when he next met up with the CSI team.
The thought of wowing them with his expertise, then incorporating it into the crime novel he had just started writing, was almost too exciting. He could already imagine readers questioning whether the protagonist was too overpowered, and then he'd jump in to prove them wrong and show off again.
However, Jack quickly regretted his suggestion. The crime scene was in Pagosa Springs, a city even farther from Denver than the warehouse in the small town they had just visited, meaning he'd spend most of the next day on the road.
Another late workday. By the time the meeting wrapped up, it was already 10 p.m. As the loser of the bet with Emily, Jack treated the team to a late-night snack at a steakhouse, touted as "Denver's oldest restaurant."
During their last investigation of the plane crash, the emergency command center had been set up near a remote town, and everyone had subsisted mostly on fast food. Now that they were in Denver, a big city, they couldn't skimp on a good meal.
Having gone through a scare earlier that day, Emily was eager to indulge and excitedly pointed out all the local specialties on the menu. She ordered everything from "Rocky Mountain Oysters" to "bone marrow," "honey pizza" that made Rossi frown, and "smoked rattlesnake."
Jeje discreetly handed her phone back to Jack after he Googled what "Rocky Mountain Oysters" were and showed her the results.
The two of them then stifled their laughter, waiting to see Emily's reaction.
Soon, a smiling waitress brought over a large plate of what looked like fried chicken nuggets, garnished with lemon wedges and freshly fried French fries, with a side of chili sauce.
"Can oysters even be fried?" Emily eagerly grabbed a piece, dipped it in the chili sauce, and took a bite so quickly that Rossi, who had been about to say something, held his tongue.
Rossi knew exactly what Emily had ordered, as he had recommended the restaurant.
"Tastes a bit like squid."
She devoured the delicious morsel in just a few bites and was about to grab another piece when the strange looks from everyone around her made her uneasy.
"Emily, haven't you wondered why, in a landlocked place like Denver, there's a 'seafood' dish that's a local specialty?"
Jeje, feeling a bit guilty, kindly gave her friend a hint.
"What's wrong with it?" Emily, feeling increasingly nervous, set down the "fried oyster" in her hand.
Jeje leaned in and whispered a few words into her ear. Emily's face immediately turned pale, and she pushed the plate away with a retch, rushing toward the restroom.
"It's just fried bull testicles. What's the big deal?" Jack said, taking the plate of "Rocky Mountain Oysters" that had been in front of Emily, determined not to waste any food.
The so-called "Rocky Mountain Oysters" had nothing to do with seafood. They were actually the sliced, battered, and deep-fried testicles of bulls or sheep.
Honestly, they tasted pretty good. The chef had done an excellent job, and there was nothing strange about the flavor. The texture was also on point, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside.
Denver was also famous for its peaches, and local breweries used the juice to make peach brandy, which Jack found absolutely delightful. After tasting it, he decided to buy a case to take home, ensuring he had the perfect pre-dinner drink for future gatherings.
As for the green chili-flavored whiskey, Jack decided to pass on that. It was just too weird for his taste.
After a night's rest, Jack quietly slipped out of Jeje's room at 6 a.m. He freshened up back at his own place, then knocked on Rossi's door next door. After breakfast at the hotel restaurant, the two of them hit the road before 7 a.m
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [[email protected]/Mutter]
[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]