CHAPTER 454: CHAPTER 275 GAIA!_1

Under the leadership of the female detective, Louise, Dean inspected several crime scenes in turn.

The dumping sites were on both sides of the road.

Under the scorching sun, the light twisted, and one could see dust swirling with the scorching wind, forming small whirlwinds only as high as a person’s lower leg, drifting through the wilderness.

In such an environment, it was very difficult to handle the bodies while preventing sand and dust from entering the victims’ wounds.

Most importantly, guided by his Trace Tracking instinct, Dean found traces of crushed, bruised, and broken roots in some plants.

This meant that recently, some heavy objects had rolled over these hardy plants.

In such an environment, the plants that did grow were very resilient, and the frequent blowing sand meant that the detectives had missed these almost imperceptible clues.

However, plants that grow in such a water-deficient environment often have roots that are deep and dense underground, and the surrounding area was all sandy soil. Once a heavy object rolled over the area, it would change the terrain while pushing the plants along the path underground, causing some plants with shallower roots to break and displace.

The traces left by a vehicle rolling over would be buried by wind and sand.

But the repair of the plant roots needed time.

Fortunately, Dean had arrived just in time to find these traces.

As Louise watched Dean effortlessly discover clues in areas where the many detectives had conducted a thorough search, she could not help but feel admiration. This man, he was something!

She walked slowly up to Dean, gesturing to the plant he had just unearthed. "Detective Dean, it looks like we can now confirm the killer’s process!"

Dean nodded. "Just as we suspected."

There weren’t any large animals around here.

So, the heavy object that flattened the plants near the dumpsite could only be a vehicle.

The killer likely drove the victim out to the wilderness off the highway, killed them in the car, posed the body, and then drove back to the highway.

Waiting until there was no traffic passing by, the killer would drag the body to the side of the road for a passing driver to discover.

"I have a hunch," Louise seized the opportunity to get closer to Dean. "We might be able to identify the killer’s vehicle from the highway surveillance!"

Dean stepped back, shaking his head again. "It’s difficult. You know why the killer chooses to process the bodies in the car and has made the same choice five times in a row, don’t you?"

"Why?"

"Because Las Vegas is a city maintained by its transportation supply chain!"

Dean raised his hand, pointing towards the road behind them.

The surrounding traffic wasn’t congested, but a few vehicles passed by from time to time, including several large and small trucks and refrigerated vehicles. Their frequency of appearance was also quite high.

"If the killer is driving one of those vehicles, even if we watch the surveillance ten thousand times, it would be difficult to find them through elimination. Switching license plates is too easy. And because of the unions, patrol officers rarely bothered drivers of transport vehicles for bribes."

After hearing Dean’s explanation, Louise nodded hesitantly.

It was indeed the case. If the police dared to extort these drivers, and they were to go on strike, then the supply chain for the bustling metropolitan area would face serious trouble.

Worst of all, as a local, Louise was realizing for the first time just how many cargo trucks came and went through her hometown. There really are so many!

"So we’re still at a loss?" Louise felt a pang of disappointment.

"No!" Dean once more refuted Louise’s notion. "Every clue is actually giving you hints; the key is whether you have the brains to receive what the clues are telling you!"

"Are you saying I don’t have brains?"

Dean was momentarily speechless. Do women always focus on such peculiar things? Shouldn’t the point be ’hints’?

Rolling his eyes, Dean nodded unapologetically. "If you had any brains, you wouldn’t be standing here like a stupid donkey full of endless ’whys’!"

"You..."

Louise glared at Dean! Being a strong woman was the label she always gave herself. She acknowledged that Dean’s performance was indeed impressive, but did he really need to be so sarcastic towards her?

"Don’t ’you’ me!"

Dean stepped forward, grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, and looked down into her surprised and angry eyes.

"If you really had brains, then in front of someone superior to you, you should learn to be humble and listen!

"Watch closely, learn well!

"Instead of standing here, ready to argue with me about the size of your brain!"

Louise was taken aback by Dean’s reaction. All I did was ask a rhetorical question, how could he react so strongly? Was it really necessary? In her heart, a rare sense of grievance welled up... along with a trace of a feeling toward Dean—whether it was fear or an inability to retort, she couldn’t tell.

If Dean knew of the grievance in Louise’s heart, he would have certainly told her that, yes, it absolutely was necessary!

Training a dog is all about timing. Especially for those that aren’t familiar and don’t yet have an established hierarchy.

For example, if a newly bought dog pees and poops randomly in the house, and you only scold it, the dog will continue to do so; at most, it will just run away before you come over to scold it.

However, the correct approach is to intervene the moment the dog first shows signs of defecating improperly: stop it, scold it, and punish it. Then, take it to a designated area, compel it to relieve itself in that fixed spot, and reward it afterward.