Chapter 139: Jane - There's a Case. Forgive My Insincere Smile.
"Are you sure?" Chuck paused in removing his glasses and looked at Monica.
"Yeah," Monica nodded bashfully.
"You're comfortable with that?" Chuck asked again.
Monica, who hadn't dared meet Chuck's eyes and was heading for the bathroom, paused and turned back, saying somewhat shyly, "I think you look more like a scientist with glasses on. Didn't you say this was a science experiment?"
Chuck glanced at his watch, then set it down. After a moment's silence, he nodded to Monica. "Alright."
"I'll go get ready," Monica said. Noticing Chuck's unwavering composure, her shyness vanished.
She had always teased her brother Ross for his childhood fascination with strong, authoritative women in uniform like Wonder Woman, but now she felt she understood the appeal.
Chuck was usually calm and serious, but with his glasses on, he seemed less distant and more sophisticated.
She preferred the refined and intellectual Chuck.
If she liked something about someone, she should say so. After all, they were just conducting experiments, so she should embrace the scientific spirit and not be so coy.
Across from Monica's apartment was Chandler and Joey's place.
After Rachel left of her own accord, she ended up there.
"It's too loud!" Chandler said with a mischievous smile to Rachel, who had followed him in.
"You don't understand," Rachel said with a helpless, wry smile.
"Oh, nobody understands better than me," Chandler said dramatically, gesturing with his hands spread wide.
Rachel followed Chandler's gesture and expression, looking toward his bedroom, which shared a wall with Joey's. Their bedrooms were separated by a single wall, with the same layout as hers and Monica's. She immediately understood, but still shook her head. "No, you still don't get it."
"Oh, nobody understands better than me," Chandler said with unwavering conviction. He didn't know Captain America's famous quote, but he could sense the determination during those sleepless nights.
"Okay, we'll revisit this in an hour," Rachel said. Seeing the argument was pointless, she changed the subject. "Did your mom bring you anything when she visited last time? I want to see."
"..." Chandler's mouth twitched as he groaned, "Great! My ultimate high school nightmare has finally come true."
"What are you talking about?" Rachel's eyes flickered, but she looked confused.
She just wanted to see what goodies Chandler's mother, the famous novelist Mrs. Bing, had brought her son. How could this be his ultimate nightmare?
"In high school, lots of people had that same expression. Do you really have no idea what you're thinking?" Chandler complained. "You just want to see my mom's latest romance novel, don't you? What makes you think I have it?"
"Because you're her son, and she just said on TV that she's the most progressive mother ever. She was the one who gave you your first box of condoms," Rachel said confidently.
"..." Chandler was speechless.
Because not long ago, his mother had stopped by to promote her book and had indeed said this in a television interview, in front of countless viewers and all his friends.
All he could do was yell at the TV, "Mom, TMI!" It was useless.
"See," Rachel said, noticing Chandler's silence. "And you said I'm not the first one. You've been through this countless times. How can this be called a nightmare, let alone the ultimate nightmare!"
"Because nobody I met in school was as gorgeous as you," Chandler said sincerely.
"Thank you," Rachel happily accepted the compliment, especially one so sincere and credible in this situation. "That's still not the ultimate nightmare."
"Are you serious?" Chandler couldn't help but smirk.
"What do you mean?" Rachel was startled, sensing something ominous.
"You really don't know?" Chandler half-smiled.
"Know what?" Rachel looked at Chandler warily.
"Never mind, it's better if you don't know," Chandler said with a forced smile, taking a step back.
Rachel glared at him. She knew she shouldn't ask further because it was most likely a trap, but her curiosity won: "Tell me! What should I know?"
"I'm used to this kind of attention, but I still think you coming to me is the ultimate nightmare," Chandler grinned. "Not only because you're the most beautiful, but I'm also terrified you might actually act on it. Everyone knows Rachel Green, the hottest cheerleader at Lincoln High on Long Island!"
"...What?!" Rachel was completely stunned. Normally she'd understand, but when it all connected to her, she was bewildered. After a moment, her face flushed and she frantically asked, "You heard that ridiculous rumor too?"
"Legends about you are still circulating in schools across New York. Who hasn't heard it?" Chandler teased.
"..." Rachel glared at Chandler furiously, unable to speak.
Of course she knew about the damn rumor. It had even caused several cute guys to reject her advances. Unfortunately, once she heard about it, everyone knew, and now learning that schools throughout New York knew made it impossible to trace the original source.
For Chandler to bring it up now, years later, as his ultimate nightmare, filled her with humiliation and anger.
If she ever found out who made that up, she'd kill them!
"Hey, wait a minute!" Looking at Chandler's cheerful expression, Rachel suddenly had a revelation, sensing something was off. "They say you dream about what you think about during the day. In psychology, dreams are projections of the subconscious. Why is your ultimate nightmare about me, specifically me in that rumored scenario?"
She looked at Chandler's face playfully, then nodded and smiled as if she'd figured it out.
"..." Chandler's smile faded as he said irritably, "What do you know about psychology?"
"Ha! I do know!" Rachel laughed. "In college, parking was impossible to find, so I switched majors and ended up in psychology."
"..." Chandler was speechless at Rachel's casual reason for changing majors.
Meanwhile, all the preparations for the scientific experiment were complete, and just as they were about to begin, Chuck received a call.
"Who's calling at such a critical moment?" Monica suppressed her annoyance, her voice changing in a way that drew Chuck's attention.
"Agent 8," Chuck looked at the caller ID and answered calmly.
On the other end, Jane suppressed her excitement and said, "Chuck, where are you? There's a case here. Remember your little classmate Sheldon Cooper? His uncle's father-in-law was found murdered on the Nevada-California border. Because of jurisdictional disputes, it was ruled an interstate case and transferred to the FBI. Are you coming?"
Yes, while it wasn't good that someone had died, she'd seen plenty of death. More importantly, she'd just had that intimate encounter with Chuck. She wasn't a rational, emotionless experimental machine like Chuck. So although she didn't want to feel this way, she still smiled insincerely after learning about the case, hoping Chuck would come work it with her.
"What do you think?" Chuck glanced down at Monica and asked Jane calmly.
"Initially, there was just a severed hand found on the state line. After investigation, we discovered it belonged to your classmate's uncle's father-in-law," Jane explained. "This method is very similar to mafia intimidation tactics. You know Las Vegas is controlled by organized crime families. Your classmate's uncle's father-in-law owned a casino."
"Possibly," Chuck nodded. "But first, check the victim's son-in-law."
"Your classmate's uncle, Danny Cooper?" Jane was confused. "Why?"
"He's a compulsive gambler," Chuck said calmly. "While gamblers aren't as dangerous as drug addicts, they can do anything when desperate under extreme circumstances."
Someone who was addicted to gambling partly due to obsessive-compulsive tendencies stiffened and looked over.
"Really?" Jane didn't want the case solved so easily and was skeptical. "He seemed very nice, not like that type of person."
"His wife, the victim's daughter—I saw her at the airport yesterday when I returned. Her hair was disheveled, with obvious signs of being grabbed," Chuck said. "Her neck was covered, but marks were still visible. Based on the shape and angle of the bruising, it wasn't from Danny Cooper."
"If that's true, it means their family isn't as harmonious as it appears, establishing motive," Jane nodded. "But how can you be certain the marks weren't from Danny Cooper? Maybe the couple is into that kind of thing?"
"It's simple physics..." Chuck ran calculations based on Danny Cooper's body measurements, the victim's daughter's build, and the positioning evidence.
"..." Jane was silent. Chuck's "simple physics" was still too complex for her, but she roughly understood his meaning and summarized: "Danny Cooper is too overweight, his belly too large, and his arms too short to have caused those particular marks..."
"Alright, I'll investigate this Danny Cooper first," Jane said with some disappointment after a long pause.
"Right," Chuck said. "Danny Cooper isn't very bright. If he did it, it was most likely a crime of passion, which should be easy to verify."
"Everything's easy for you," Jane said flirtatiously. "If you could come give me a hands-on demonstration, I could learn more and handle cases better next time."
"Maybe next time. I'm busy right now. That's all," Chuck said, holding the phone while looking at a certain gambler who appeared agitated, then hung up.
(End of Chapter)
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