Police in America

These insights came from the casual conversation among the four of them after dinner. Alya, who had been brought back to the motel by Braxton to rest, had finally recovered and began to introduce some local information.

Although she still looked exhausted, her mental state had significantly improved after Jack promised to do everything he could to uncover the truth.

Jack took the opportunity to ask her about the hunter, Cory Lambert.

Cory once had a daughter named Emily, who was the best friend of Alya's sister, Natalie. The two girls were the same age and were inseparable.

Three years ago, Emily disappeared at a party, and her body was found days later by a young shepherd, just 20 meters from Cory's house in a nearby field.

"So, what exactly happened to that girl?" Jane asked, her cheeks flushed. She had been freezing earlier, so Jack had gotten her a bottle of whiskey and poured her a glass.

Alya shook her head. "No one knows. A pack of wolves had already destroyed the body, and it was only through DNA testing that her identity was confirmed."

"After that, Uncle Cory sold his sports equipment store at the ski resort and became a professional hunter."

As she spoke, tears welled up in her eyes again. Braxton poured a little juice into her cup since Alya avoided alcohol due to her past experiences.

Jack was aware that in this country, alcoholism was a problem as severe as the rampant drug abuse. Among Native Americans, this issue was magnified many times over.

In Native American traditional culture, many hallucinogens were used as tools to communicate with the spirits, such as tobacco, mushrooms, and secretions from certain animals.

But before the arrival of Europeans in the Americas, the indigenous people, isolated on this "promised land," were still slowly developing their civilization and had not yet discovered the technology of distillation.

So, when Native Americans traded furs for brandy or rum from the colonizers, things quickly spiraled out of control.

There is a theory that due to thousands of years of isolation, Native American genes led them to naturally lack the ability to metabolize alcohol effectively, making them more prone to alcohol intolerance and addiction compared to other races.

Thus, the indigenous people regarded these strong alcoholic beverages, which could make one feel euphoric after just a few sips, as sacred. To this day, the Sioux in North America still refer to alcohol as "mni wakan," meaning "holy water."

In modern times, particularly in North America, alcohol has become the best solace for the thoroughly marginalized Native Americans, who are "kept" on reservations with no hope in life.

Today, in this country, about 80% of Native Americans have problems with alcoholism, and one-quarter of babies are born with fetal alcohol syndrome.

Among Alya's relatives, two died from liver cirrhosis caused by alcoholism, and three died in traffic accidents while drunk. This is why she has an extreme aversion to alcohol.

Not wanting to delve further into Alya's painful past, Jack instructed Braxton to take good care of his fiancée and arranged to visit Alya's parents' home together the next morning. Then, he and Jane went out shopping.

After all, the thought of wearing clothes belonging to a deceased girl made Jane feel uncomfortable. It wasn't due to any superstitions like those in some Eastern cultures, but rather because she remembered the reluctant look in the eyes of that elderly Native American woman.

Jane genuinely felt the kindness of that family. Although they were reluctant, they still offered the clothes of their deceased granddaughter to her when she was shivering in the cold.

Jack also understood the complex emotions behind the look in Cory Lambert's eyes when he first saw Jane wearing those clothes.

After buying a complete set of warm clothes at a shop in town, Jane immediately changed into them. She then made a point of finding a dry cleaner to have the clothes she had borrowed cleaned and carefully instructed the staff to handle them with care.

It was already late when they returned to the motel. Jack dropped Jane off at her room and was about to head to bed, as his room was next door.

"Come in for a drink."

Jane still seemed a bit tipsy, her cheeks flushed, giving her a more alluring look than during the day.

"Uh... better not. I already have a girlfriend." Jack silently changed a certain word in his mind to its plural form.

Jane's expression froze, her hand slipping from the doorframe. She then glared at him, gritting her teeth. "I just wanted to talk about the case."

"Oh, sorry, sorry." Jack quickly apologized. Whether it was a misunderstanding or not, his earlier response had undoubtedly been hurtful to her.

The motel room was small and simply furnished. Apart from an exaggerated liquor cabinet that reflected the local character, it wasn't much different from a standard hotel room.

Jane entered, turned on the heater, took off her coat, and poured Jack a small glass of whiskey before sinking wearily into the sofa.

"Before coming here, I did a little bit of research. It was rushed, but did you know that in federal missing persons statistics, Native American women aren't counted?"

Jack didn't respond, just held the glass in his hand, slowly turning it, and quietly listened to her.

"And the most recent report I could find about them was from fifteen years ago. It said that in this state, one-third of Native American women had been sexually assaulted, and 96% of the perpetrators were non-Native Americans."

"And I'm just a rookie sent here to go through the motions. Maybe by tomorrow, I'll get a call summoning me back to Las Vegas."

Jane's voice grew weaker, almost inaudible, and when Jack snapped out of his thoughts, he realized she had fallen asleep, snoring softly.

"If only there were more 'saints' like you in this world," Jack sighed. He carefully picked up the sleeping girl, laid her on the bed, and touched her forehead. He realized that the flush on her cheeks wasn't from the small glass of whiskey but from a fever.

After casting a healing spell on Jane, Jack helped her take off her shoes and tucked her in before quietly leaving her room.

This girl might seem a bit naive, but she wasn't stupid. Clearly, a fool couldn't become an FBI agent. So, from the moment she arrived here, she knew she was just a tool for carrying out bureaucratic procedures.

Just like Jack, who hadn't put much stock in Rossi's promised support. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rossi, but rather that in this place deliberately overlooked by people, the law was even more useless than toilet paper.

Perhaps Rossi indeed had enough influence to have a BAU "Gulfstream" jet land at the nearest airport, but the favors he would have to call in, or the price he would have to pay, might far exceed what was needed to deal with a cannibal in New Mexico.

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