Chapter 119: Oh, oh, all of it!
"This is Cheryl," Cheryl said.
"Hi, Cheryl." The male voice on the other end of the line was no longer angry, but had regained his composure, with a noticeable smile in his tone.
"I'd feel better if I knew my sister, Trixie, was okay," Cheryl replied according to the notes everyone had written for her.
"I know you two are connected, Cheryl, and you care about each other." The man's voice on the other end was gentle.
"Yes," Cheryl said, "it seems you understand."
"Are you trying to say I'm reasonable?" The voice on the other end became even gentler: "I am reasonable. I understand you, Cheryl. Tell me what you want? I'm interested. What's your favorite color?"
Everyone looked at each other in surprise again.
Chuck nodded at Cheryl, who was looking at him.
"I like blue," Cheryl said.
"How ordinary." The voice on the other end sounded disappointed. "Do you like chocolate?"
"I do." Cheryl, growing agitated, said, "Can I speak to my sister?"
There was a pause, then a voice remarkably like Cheryl's came over the line: "Cheryl."
"Trixie, this is Cheryl. Are you okay?" Cheryl immediately recognized her sister's voice.
"Have $500,000 ready. I deserve $500,000. Davenport, stay by the phone. It'll ring in 15 minutes with clear instructions."
With that, the call was disconnected.
"Can you track him?" Gideon looked at Reid.
"No, he's using a burner phone." Reid shook his head.
"Dr. Wolfe?" Gideon looked at Chuck.
"We'll take it one step at a time," Chuck said calmly.
"Is the money ready?" Gideon glanced at Chuck, then looked at Mr. Davenport.
"Yes," Mr. Davenport nodded, and went to retrieve a duffel bag full of cash—a full $500,000.
Admittedly, the Davenports were quite wealthy; they could easily come up with $500,000 in cash, but that wasn't surprising. Only when one is wealthy and doesn't have an excessive desire for money can one resist its allure and become a relatively honest prosecutor.
Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang.
"Cheryl will do everything alone. Cheryl, pack the money. Only she can touch it. Cheryl, deliver it. If she has a tracker or uses a body double, Trixie is dead. Cheryl, drive your own car. No one can be in the car. No one can follow her. No aerial surveillance, no vehicle surveillance. All such surveillance is unacceptable. While Cheryl drives, I'll give instructions via phone. The money must be delivered before 3:00 AM."
At this point, Cheryl had no choice but to follow the instructions, grabbing the bag and driving to the designated location alone.
The BAU followed at a distance, and as expected, their first stop was a paid parking lot. Just as they suspected the kidnappers would ask Cheryl to get out and change cars, something unexpected happened. A car quietly approached Cheryl, who was walking with the bag of money, in the darkness. A man got out and abducted her.
"Damn it!" When Agent Hotchner and his team got out to try to stop it, the car had already sped away.
"Son of a bitch! This isn't a ransom delivery, it's another kidnapping!" Agent Hotchner cursed.
Gideon, working alongside them, remained calm.
"Where's Dr. Wolfe?" Agent Hotchner caught Gideon's eye and a thought struck him.
"I don't know," Gideon shook his head. "But I'm sure he's in the right place. People who enjoy playing chess always think several moves ahead."
Agent Hotchner felt a sudden sense of relief as Gideon repeated what Chuck had said. It seemed Gideon and Chuck had developed an understanding.
In the kidnapper's car.
"It's you!" Cheryl, sitting in the back seat with her hands zip-tied, snapped out of her daze. She caught sight of the kidnapper's face in the rearview mirror and immediately recognized him.
"It's me," the kidnapper said with a smile. "Long time no see."
"Why?" Cheryl asked, puzzled. "Why would you do something like this?"
"Why?" the kidnapper laughed. "Didn't you ask me to do this?"
"What are you talking about?" Cheryl was horrified by the atmosphere.
"You asked me to do this," the kidnapper said with what he thought was a reassuring smile. "You told me with your eyes how much you loved me. The three of us were meant to be together. Look at us now. We're about to be together. This is destiny!"
"You're a sicko!" Cheryl cried, "Chuck will definitely rescue us!"
"Chuck?" The smile on the kidnapper's face disappeared in an instant, and his expression turned dark: "Do you like that nerd?"
"Yes, I like him!" Cheryl shouted as if to increase her courage: "You can't imagine how smart he is, he will definitely come to rescue me and Trixie!"
"Bitch!" The kidnapper's voice was no longer gentle and affectionate, but full of rage: "You and your sister Trixie are both sluts! You both made promises to me with your eyes, but you both go hooking up with other men! Just wait, sooner or later I will smash this nerd's face like I did to that blonde pretty boy. You are both mine! Mine!"
"You psycho!" Cheryl screamed in horror: "We have never even met you before! Let alone signaled you to do anything!"
"Stop lying." The kidnapper, recovering from his fury, smiled again. "We've met three times, and each time you sisters exchanged glances with me. I know girls can be a little shy, and I understand. Once the three of us are together, you'll confess your true feelings."
Underneath the car, Chuck held onto the chassis firmly, listening to the kidnapper's delusional words with a calm expression.
Unlike Cheryl, who had never encountered such a person, Chuck knew exactly what type the kidnapper was: a classic erotomaniac.
Some people, regardless of gender, are prone to wishful thinking. Whenever a member of the opposite sex shows any casual interest in them, they harbor the delusion that the person is romantically interested.
This is a perfectly normal physiological and psychological reaction.
However, if this emotion is taken to extremes, the timid become stalkers, while the bold become delusional, believing their crush is in love with them and subtly flirting with them through expressions, gestures, and glances.
The car drove for a long time before stopping in front of a suburban ranch house.
The kidnapper got out of the car and dragged the struggling Cheryl inside, laughing as he walked. "Baby, don't you want to see your sister?"
Cheryl's struggles subsided, and she followed him inside.
After opening several doors, Cheryl finally saw her sister, lying weakly on a mattress.
"Trixie, Trixie, are you okay?" Cheryl ran to her sister's side, angrily shouting at the kidnapper, "What did you do to her?"
"Don't worry, it's just some sedative," the kidnapper laughed. "So she can wait quietly for our reunion. Now we've finally made it, and no one can stop us anymore."
"I don't think so," a voice called out.
"Who?" The kidnapper looked around in panic.
"Chuck!" Cheryl immediately recognized the voice and exclaimed with relief, then looked at her sister in her arms. "Chuck is here to save us. We're safe!"
Trixie, dazed from the sedative, heard her sister speak and struggled to open her eyes.
"Agent Scheier, nice to see you again." Chuck stepped out from the shadows in the corner.
That's right! The kidnapper was Agent Scheier of the FBI's New Haven field office, who had previously been responsible for installing monitoring equipment and tracking phone signals.
"Why are you here?" Agent Scheier looked at Chuck with a grim expression.
"You forgot you asked me to come here," Chuck said seriously, "Your eyes told me to."
"..." Faced with Chuck's sarcastic reversal, Agent Scheier, who was convinced that the twin sisters were flirting with him through their eyes, fell silent.
Cheryl burst out laughing. She had always known that there was a sharp sense of humor beneath Chuck's stoic expression.
Though confused, Trixie was incredibly sensitive to this exchange. It was something the kidnapper had repeatedly said to her, so hearing it thrown back at him by another person, and seeing her sister laugh, she couldn't help but smile too. She strained her eyes to look at the source of the joke, but all she could see was a tall, imposing figure that seemed to tower over everything. The pervert she'd feared, now shrunken and helpless, was completely overshadowed.
"Don't move," Chuck warned him calmly, seeing him stealthily reaching for his waist. "The BAU is heading this way. If you want to see tomorrow," he paused meaningfully.
"I want you—" Agent Scheier had already pulled out his service weapon and, threateningly, pointed it at Chuck.
Bang!
A shot rang out.
Agent Scheier hadn't finished his sentence when Chuck pulled a massive .44 Magnum from his waistband and instantly fired, sending Scheier's gun flying. Then, with a casual movement, he holstered the gun back at his hip.
"..." Agent Scheier covered his throbbing hand, staring at Chuck in disbelief. This was clearly a gun-drawing technique straight out of a Western movie.
"I'm from Texas," Chuck understood his gaze and, as always, explained it in one sentence.
The BAU arrived quickly and took control of the situation.
"Chuck, how did you figure it out?" Reid gazed at Chuck in admiration.
Chuck studied Reid, then looked at Gideon, Hotchner, and JJ, who had all gathered around. "They wanted Cheryl to deliver the ransom alone, demanded no tracking, and detailed various surveillance methods, clearly demonstrating strong counter-surveillance knowledge. Yet, they didn't demand small, non-consecutive bills for the ransom, clearly showing this wasn't really about money. And then there was the obvious obsession with Cheryl during the phone call. It was clear that someone was erotomaniacally fixated on both Davenport twins. Didn't you catch that?"
"Our mistake," Gideon sighed. He hadn't noticed such an obvious behavioral pattern.
Agent Hotchner, the unit chief, felt somewhat embarrassed.
Reid felt much better. He had always accepted that Chuck was better than him at profiling, so he quickly recovered and asked, "Did you know it was Agent Scheier all along? Is that why you went off on your own again to avoid being monitored by him?"
"No." Chuck shook his head. "I just have my usual healthy suspicion of potential moles and corrupt officers in law enforcement, and the facts have once again proved my instincts correct."
The FBI agents: "..."
(End of Chapter)
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