Wine and Gun

——At this moment, they heard Olga say in a flat voice: "Damn."

They looked in the direction Olga was looking at, and unexpectedly saw BAU Director Lavasa McCard standing in the hall door with a frown, looking down the hall while slapping the sizable pile off his shoulders. Snow.

When a few of them looked stupidly in the direction of the door, it was obvious that McCard paid attention to them, so the other party strode in, the target seemed very clear, and no one said that they were not looking for them. Believe.

"That's my hallucination," Olga whispered. "Please tell me it's my hallucination. My eggnog may not only be drinking too much but also adding too much alcohol."

"I don't think so," Herstal told him calmly.

"What about collective hallucinations?" Olga asked frantically.

Apparently it wasn't a collective hallucination, either, as Lavasa McCard walked up to them quickly, with a chill that hit his face. He said to them calmly, "Merry Christmas."

Looking at Olga's expression, even if a bloody Santa Claus with a double-barreled shotgun and fire-breathing eyes stood in front of her and said Merry Christmas to her, she would not feel worse than now.

"Why are you here!" she exclaimed.

"Have I never told you?" McArd frowned, in a voice that sounded as if he was feeling inexplicable, "My second brother lives in Westland, and we're going to this year. Christmas with him?"

"No, whether it's where you're going to spend Christmas, or how many brothers you have, I don't know a word." Olga said with a sullen face.

"I have two older brothers," McCard added needlessly, "and two younger brothers."

Basically everyone ignored Olga's "middle child" whisper, and Albarino said with a smile: "I guess she doesn't mean why you appeared in Westland, but why you Will be at the WLPF's Christmas Eve meeting."

"I got the invitation." McCard's brows furrowed even more. "I got it two weeks ago, and it was sent to my office at BAU. I'd never have been able to come in previous years, but this year I'm coming to Victoria. Strand spends Christmas just..."

Looking at the expressions of several people present, no one knew how the invitation was sent out, but after all, he helped WLPD deal with the murderer Qiángni's case a few months ago, and he was on the side of Albarino's case. It's probably not surprising to receive an invitation as a courtesy.

"You can have a good chat," Hardy said finally, "I really have to go, the snow must be heavy, and if it goes on like this..."

"No, wait a minute, Officer Hardy," McCard interrupted, "I'm here to talk to you and your boss this time, and I've been following the Westland pianist and Sunday gardener cases. , they've been committing crimes too often lately. Personally I really recommend WLPD to ask the FBI for help, BAU can-"

He didn't get to finish, in fact, he wouldn't get a chance to finish the whole night about what happened to BAU, because things don't come when they don't—they heard a scream piercing the air, Sharp, panic.

The voice came from across the hall.

For some reason, Bart Hardy and McCard reacted almost at the same time, and they both rushed towards the direction of the sound. At the same time, Albarino tugged at Herstal's cuff and whispered, "Follow."

A few of them rushed through the room with other policemen who realized that something was wrong. The place where the screams came was the bathroom on the first floor of the police station. A policewoman who was a clerk stood at the door of the bathroom, unable to help shivering.

While Hardy and the girl squeezed neatly past the girl, Albarino stood behind and did not step forward. At this time, he could clearly see that the police officer named Chris who had drunk too much just now fell on the tiled floor of the bathroom, leaning weakly against the wall, staring blankly at the bathroom with his eyes wide open. mirror.

There were two parallel, bloody knife marks on his neck, about four or five centimeters apart, with bone deep visible.

And on the glass of the mirror that his eyes were fixed on, a bloody five-pointed star was drawn by his blood, and there was too much blood dripping down from the corners, which was drawn on the clean glass. A long line.

The room was filled with shocked and disturbed discussions, and McCard stared blankly at the bloody scene. After a while, he whispered, "Olga—"

This is also really strange: Olga Molozze has been away from BAU for a long time, and McCard has always had a bad relationship with her, but at this moment, when they are enveloped by a terrible emotion called shock, he It's still hard to break the habit of asking the other person's opinion.

And he, as the head of the behavioral analysis department, should not have been like this.

At this time, Olga had just squeezed in from the gradually gathering crowd, still holding the eggnog glass in her hand, and flattening the hem of her wrinkled clothes with the other hand. Her eyes may have lit up because of the alcohol, and there was a slight blush on her cheekbones.

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