The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

Before Jack traveled through time, only the first season of "Jack Reacher" had been aired, but he knew that if there was a second season, it would definitely be a big deal.

Although Reacher is not as likely to poke holes in the sky as those old guys from "R.E.D.", it is obvious that the villain he is facing this time is definitely stronger than Kleiner Industries in Margrave Town.

After all, only when the opponents become stronger and the scenes become bigger will the audience have a sense of anticipation, although most American dramas cannot escape the vicious circle of getting worse and worse.

What Jack was worried about was not that the plot was too bad, nor that the opponent was too strong, but that he was afraid that Reacher would kill too cruelly and leave a mess that would be difficult to clean up.

Even though Reacher's expression remained calm after learning of Franz's death, this guy has always been like this, including when he kills people.

After all, New York is now his territory. Before figuring out the scope of this case, Jack has to keep close to this guy even if he has to disguise himself.

"So what are you going to do next?" Jack asked a little slurredly after seeing that he had finished reading all the information.

Reacher frowned and looked at Jack's swollen cheek, seeming a little confused, "Are you going to pretend to be a gigolo again?"

Jack glared at him unhappily and said, "If you don't mind living in my office and listening to the progress of the case every day, I also don't mind letting my team take charge of the case. I have confidence in the abilities of my team members.

Or maybe you are willing to follow me as a civilian consultant and follow my instructions."

Reacher had a constipated expression on his face and shook his head with difficulty, "Forget it then."

Three hours later, the Gulfstream business jet landed, and Jack drove his Hellcat with Reacher straight to the city.

"Won't the license plate of this car expose your FBI identity?" Reacher glanced at the switch of the hidden police lights and knocked on the bulletproof window and asked casually.

"I've changed the license plate. Now I'm a private detective named Jack Ryan. Even if the CIA comes to investigate, the result will be the same." Jack responded with a warning look.

"Don't think about this car. It's a government asset. If you want it, we'll rent you one later." He drives this Hellcat more often than the Firebird in New York and has developed an attachment to it.

"So where are we going now?" Reacher changed the subject.

"To see Franz's widow, of course," Jack replied somewhat strangely.

"Franz is married?" Reicher asked in a surprised tone.

Jack was very surprised. "You ask me? Isn't he your friend? Franz's personal information shows that he has a son."

"We just haven't been in touch for a long time." Reacher explained awkwardly.

-

"Are you the big guy?" When the tearful woman heard Reacher's introduction, she blurted out, "Oh my God, Calvin has told me the stories of each of you countless times, pointing at your photos."

Jack glanced at the big guy who was in a low mood, and took the initiative to act as the one who adjusted the atmosphere, "Angela, right? Can we go inside and talk?"

"Ah! Of course." Madame Franz quickly made way for the two to enter the room.

The room was a bit messy, with various children's toys and books piled on the sofa, coffee table and even on the floor. A little boy of five or six years old was holding a stuffed toy and watching the cartoons on TV.

"Munchie, go find your crayons and play coloring games on the table for a while, okay?" Mrs. Franz picked up the TV remote control and turned off the TV. She coaxed her son into the dining room and motioned to the sofa in the living room for them to go ahead.

"I'm sorry, my house is a bit messy, but I really don't have the energy to sort it out. My sister has to call me every hour to prevent me from committing suicide."

"I believe you are a strong lady." Jack glanced at the little boy who was sitting obediently at the big table in the restaurant. "Your son is very much like your husband."

Mrs. Franz did not look very old. She was a white woman in her early 30s with soft features. She would be a pleasing beauty if she dressed up. But at this moment, she was bare-faced and her eye bags were frighteningly red and swollen.

"I'm sorry, have you also been a member of the 110 team? How old are you?" Mrs. Franz asked hesitantly, perhaps because she felt that Jack looked unfamiliar.

Jack smiled and took out a business card he had prepared in advance. "I'm a private detective and a friend of this big guy. I'm here on his behalf to investigate the cause of Franz's death."

Reacher seemed very uncomfortable with this atmosphere, and simply got straight to the point, "I know the police may have asked you countless questions, but could you please help me sort out what happened in chronological order?"

"Of course." Mrs. Franz's eyes instantly turned red again, and she choked up, "Before, I took Mikey to the countryside to help my sister take care of my mother, who has early-onset Alzheimer's disease. During that time, I tried to contact Calvin several times, but he didn't call back.

This wasn't his style, so I started to worry and called the NYPD, who said he might be working on a commission, after all, Calvin was also a private investigator by profession.

Or maybe he went to a party, after all, his wife and children were not around, so he took the opportunity to enjoy the happiness of a middle-aged man. "

"So that's what you think too? Secretly go out with your drinking buddies to have fun while you're away?" Lei Che asked with a frown.

Mrs. Franz wiped away her tears and answered affirmatively, "Calvin would call me even if he was ten minutes late for dinner, and he never went out to have fun behind my back.

So I was very worried and went home early, only to find that my house had been ransacked, but nothing was missing, and the NYPD came to check but found nothing.”

Jack wrote this information down in his notebook and asked, "Do you know what case he has taken on recently?"

Mrs. Franz shook her head. "Calvin never brings work home. He says that when he's home he wants to devote 100% of his energy to me and Mikey."

Seeing that she was about to break down again, Jack quickly interrupted her with a smile, "This is the most simple and touching love talk I have ever heard."

This sentence made Mrs. Franz smile with tears in her eyes, and she kept wiping her tears. Faced with such an atmosphere, Reacher seemed a little uneasy. This was an occasion he was not good at dealing with.

He clumsily pulled out a few tissues from under a pile of debris on the table and handed them to the other person. The muscles on his cheeks twitched with difficulty and he forced out a smile that was uglier than crying. "We need more information. Just a few more questions and it will be over. I promise."

Mrs. Franz covered her mouth and sobbed softly for a few times, then nodded and tried to cheer herself up.

"Please describe Franz's recent client base. Are there any particularly troublesome ones that cause him a lot of pressure?" Jack asked.

"No." Mrs. Franz's tone was still very certain, "Ever since Mackey was born, he promised me that he would no longer do dangerous work. Now the people who come to him are those Wall Street guys, CEOs, venture funds and insurance companies.

Now that doesn't seem to be the case, sorry, I don't know much, maybe there are some clues in his office."

She took a bunch of keys from a small dish on the fireplace and handed them to Reacher. "The address is 103 Flatbush. The sign on the door is 'Three Rivers Consulting Company.' The police said that place was completely destroyed just like our house."

Reacher took the key and opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something comforting, or perhaps some promise.

Mrs. Franz seemed to have indirectly learned a lot about Reacher's deeds from her husband, and took the initiative to say, "Franz always told me that special investigators are not ordinary police officers. You are better than the best police officers."

“Don’t mess with the special investigator,” the little boy who had been quietly drawing in the next room suddenly spoke up.

Jack had just heard this sentence from Reacher not long ago. He couldn't help but smile and asked loudly, "Did your father teach you this?"

The little boy nodded timidly to the two of them.

Jack looked at Reacher, indicating that it was time for him to say something.

"He's right." Lei Che held it in for a long time before uttering this sentence. His back looked a little embarrassed as he left.