family history of mental illness

Jason's manual work was so poor that he couldn't bear to look directly at it, and Brant was no better than that. The two of them got worse and worse. Finally, before scrapping the $52, they gave up and went to find an ingenious "craftsman" Neil, let's see if we can fix it.

Mr. Kafrey learned from the gangsters in his hometown, and honed his skills in countless times of opening safes, counterfeiting, and stealing sheep. A knitted hat is nothing to worry about. In 5 minutes, the pile of garbage that was about to be scrapped was restored to a level that was slightly noticeable.

There is no harm if there is no comparison. After experiencing the ravages of two people, now seeing Neil's finished product, Jason is satisfied.

Jason obediently went back to the guest room to sleep, Neil also turned off the TV, and went into the second bedroom, Brant crawled back to the bed exhausted physically and mentally, and finally fell asleep.

Probably enough sleep keeps people awake. When he opened his eyes the next morning, Brandt suddenly felt that his thinking was extremely smooth, and then he thought of how to avoid Jason's exposure.

This is actually very simple, just get rid of the surveillance in the supermarket, and he happens to know a "logistics" expert who is very good at this, and what's more, that person is in Miami!

I took out my mobile phone and planned to make an appointment with the universal logistics old Sam, but found that the mobile phone might have run out of power as early as midnight the day before and turned it off.

Five are Debra, and one is Dexter. There is no doubt that Dexter's call was definitely begged by Debra.

Just as he was thinking, another call came, and it was Debra again.Brant quickly connected, and the next second, Debra's urgent voice came over.

"Why did you answer the phone? The law and order in Miami is not good now, you don't know how worried I am!" Debra finished speaking like a machine gun, and then began to wheeze.

Brant: "Tired out these days, your poor brother overslept."

Debra: "Two days in one sleep? Are you Sleeping Beauty?"

"My fault, I shouldn't be looking at my phone. By the way, Deb, what are you doing, why are you breathing so hard?"

Debra took a breath before saying, "We're investigating, BAU's new order."

Brandt echoed a few times at the right time, and the unsuspecting Debra, like pouring beans, spoke out about the police station.

"As expected of the FBI, just looking at the case files and the scene, they profiled the characteristics of the criminals, which greatly reduced the scope of the investigation. I have decided that they will be my idols from today onwards!"

"I think you can wait until the criminals are caught before you talk about idols." Brandt poured cold water on her, and then continued to ask her, "What's the result of the profiling?"

He also thought that if Debra refused to disclose information, whether he would use "a little fear and need to avoid the target person with such characteristics" or "a good citizen to help the police find criminals" as an excuse, Debra would not He hesitated and told him.

"Caucasian male, aged 25-40, middle-class, owns at least two private cars, and works as a breeder." She said: "This is just a preliminary profile, and follow-up investigations will depend on the results of follow-up investigations."

Brant suddenly said, "Dexter must not be next to you." Otherwise, she would not have let her disclose the information of the police station so easily, even if he was their eldest brother.

Debra said of course: "He is a forensic doctor, so of course he won't go out with us."

Brandt couldn't refute, silently said goodbye to the silly white sweet sister, and hung up the phone.

The situation is not too bad. They live nearby, and there is no one who fits the profile. The probability of BAU's visit is very low. As long as Jason and Neil stay at home obediently and don't run around, wait until the real murderer is caught. , BAUs go back to Quantico, Miami is their paradise again.

Feeling much more relaxed, Brant unlocked the screen again, pressed the memorized number one by one, and clicked to call.

Hope to still get through...

On the third ring, the phone stopped abruptly and was replaced by a slightly hoarse male voice.

"Who?"

Against the noisy and frantic background, it was surprisingly clear.

It took more than ten minutes to get in touch with Old Sam, and then Brant naturally found his current workplace, which was three blocks away from his home, the busiest nightless street in the city center.

……

……

"Oh!"

A yellow-haired man was carried by a burly man in uniform with one hand, thrown out of the gate, and just dropped to Brant's feet.

Brandt paused and looked up at the light sign. The big characters of 'Chris Lounge' were shining brightly, which was the destination of his trip.

Moved a few steps to the side, bypassing the man lying on the ground with a bruised nose and face unable to get up, Brant walked into the bar.

It looked like a very ordinary bar, but he knew that it must not be that simple to keep Sam for a year.

He followed the direction Sam had given on the phone, walked straight through the hall, and saw the middle-aged man sitting outside the bar at a glance.

He has half-length black hair, deep blue eyes, and exquisite facial features. Even the fine lines at the corners of his eyes did not detract from him, but made him look full of the charm of a mature man.

The bartender made a glass of Long Island iced tea and handed it to him, calling him "useless old Sam". Brant walked over pretending to be casual, and calmly ordered a glass of ice water in the bartender's eyes.

"So why did you become 'useless old Sam'?" Brandt pretended not to know Sam, and asked while controlling the volume, "Don't they know about Sam's great achievements in the past and his huge intelligence network?"

Sam took a sip of the Long Island iced tea, squinted his eyes leisurely, "I'm enjoying a leisurely retirement life, why do I have to work so hard after retirement? So now I'm just an ordinary DJ."

"Have you started to retire before you are fifty?" Brant glanced at him, "When did you do this?"

Sam got excited, drank his half-drunk cocktail in one gulp, exchanged a few words with his DJing colleague, then took over the other's job, and started to perform very devotedly.

To be honest, the effect is very hard to describe.

Brant was obviously not the only one who thought this way, and soon Sam was booed off the stage.

He asked very ignorantly, "How is it?"

Brant looked around at the thugs, bartenders, and waiters who were staring at them, and finally understood how Sam got his nickname.

"I'm curious, how did you not get fired so far under the premise of having this level of DJing?"

"That's probably because..." Samli blinked at him pretending to be mysterious, "I'm cheaper."

"..."

With nothing to say, Brant decided to steer clear of the subject and talk to Sam about the purpose of his trip.

He brewed for a while, and just about to speak, he heard a sudden noise from the gate.

He looked over and saw that the thugs were thrown all over the floor in a haphazard manner, large pieces of wine bottles were overturned and smashed, and red, blue and blue wine was scattered all over the floor.

There were screams one after another from the crowd, and the muffled sound of guns followed by the collision of knives.

The original DJ didn't know when he ran off the stage, and Sam naturally took over his job. Amidst a series of deafening and noisy discs, the crowd gradually quieted down and retreated to both sides, revealing a jacket at the gate, with red Man with a hood.

The hood looked very funny, covering the entire head of the visitor, only two holes of different sizes were dug out in the front, exposing the two eyes with sunglasses...

Very, very, very familiar.

Brant watched the manager of the bar run downstairs out of breath with a blank expression, and asked him, "Who the hell are you! Don't you know who the owner of this bar is!"

Looking at the hooded boy with a blank face, he said coldly, "You can call me Red Hood."

Bloody Red Hood!Bloody Jason!

Sure enough, this big trouble of disobedience should be thrown away.

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Xiao Bu: Don't bully Jason!He's just a 200-pound kid!

Bucket: ==180 lbs, thank you

Xiao Bu: Huh?This hood must be too fat (._.)