Police in America

"Can you please leave us alone!"

Unexpectedly, when the team followed Rossi to an old, dilapidated house, they were neither warmly welcomed nor coldly rejected. Instead, they were met with an emotional outburst from the eldest daughter of the family.

"What did you say?" Rossi was a bit stunned.

"You have to stop this. We thought that if we deliberately didn't return your calls, you'd give up and stop bothering us."

Connie, the eldest daughter, was visibly agitated. Although she didn't use harsh words, her attitude was very unfriendly. Jack, feeling annoyed, wanted to step forward, but the perceptive Jie Jie blocked him and subtly shook her head.

Rossi tried to explain, "I know this is painful, but I just want someone to pay for your parents' death."

"We don't care about that anymore," Connie nearly screamed. "It's been 20 years. We need to forget about it and move on. Please, stop disturbing us. Haven't we suffered enough?"

Perhaps hearing her voice, a young man and woman, her brother and sister, came out of the house. They didn't say anything, just stood behind their sister with their arms crossed, coldly watching the BAU team.

"Sorry, I won't bother you again," Rossi said, seeing that Connie was on the verge of breaking down. He turned to leave.

Jack reopened the car door, ready to leave. Their goal had been achieved, albeit painfully for Rossi, but at least it might free him from his guilt.

"Stop sending those gifts every year, too." Connie's last words made the BAU team turn around in unison.

No one present was foolish. Rossi would never send them gifts every year, as that would be a terrible reminder and only aggravate the victims. Rossi had always helped this family in a discreet, indirect manner, and would never make such a blunder.

Sure enough, Connie continued, "We don't need those gifts. They only remind us of the worst day of our lives."

"I never sent you any gifts," Rossi said, puzzled, turning back to look at her. The others also stopped getting into the car, a glimmer of hope rising in their hearts.

"Hello, I am Jennifer Jareau, liaison officer of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, and these are my colleagues," Jie Jie quickly walked up to the three skeptical individuals. "Can we take a look at those gifts?"

"We're here for the case of your parents' murder 20 years ago. Agent Rossi has been haunted by this case, vowing to bring the killer to justice. But he is a seasoned agent with deep empathy."

Jie Jie paused, then added softly, "So, we suspect these gifts might be from..."

She didn't finish, but the three young people clearly understood her implication.

"Connie, let them in. I think they're good people," George, the second son, said, opening the door.

"But..." Connie hesitated.

"Please, we're tired of you waking up screaming in the middle of the night. If they can find the killer, at least we won't have to live in constant fear," said their goth-looking younger sister, Alicia, though her tone was harsh, her words showed concern for her sister.

"Come in, we'll get those toys," the siblings led the team into the house, leaving the still bewildered Connie behind. They went up to the attic to search.

Soon, the large table in the living room was covered with various stuffed toys, totaling twenty or thirty.

"Are these all of them?" Rossi asked, inspecting them closely while Emily took photos to send to Garcia.

"Sorry, we could only find these. We've thrown away quite a few," Alicia said.

"I really wish you had told me about this earlier."

Rossi's expression was one of mixed emotions. As he had said before, just one more clue might have revealed the answer that had been right in front of them all along. And this crucial clue had been delayed for 20 years due to a small misunderstanding.

"We always thought it was you, because you were the only one who remembered us," Connie said, her eyes welling up with tears.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have treated you like that."

Jack couldn't help but admire the three siblings. Despite losing their parents so young, they hadn't turned to drugs or prostitution. Judging by their clothing and the state of the house, they lived in considerable poverty but still held onto some moral principles.

Even their worldviews hadn't been warped; they showed a significant amount of empathy. This was nothing short of a miracle. Jack thought of Rossi's mention of their grandmother, who must have been an extraordinary woman.

Emily, wearing gloves, carefully checked the stuffed toys' materials, "They're all cheap toys."

"How were these toys delivered to you?" Rossi asked.

"Usually, they were left on the front porch at night, around the anniversary of 'that day,' but this time, I found one in my car," Connie said, her expression becoming a bit uneasy. "My car was parked outside my workplace."

"So you were being followed? Did you notice who it was?"

Rossi knew that being a stripper made her reluctant to share details, so he didn't press too hard.

"It was a pickup truck. I thought it was you. I was really confused. I shouldn't have suspected it was you. The insomnia has made me very anxious. I haven't slept well in days," Connie apologized to Rossi again.

Rossi didn't know how to comfort her. The last time they met, she had been a ten-year-old girl. Now she was a thirty-year-old woman.

He forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

"Can you recall any details about the pickup?" he asked.

Connie shook her head, still sounding apologetic, "It was an old Ford pickup, but its headlights were on, so I didn't notice the color. It should be a dark color."

"Please give us some time. I need to discuss this with my team."

With that, Rossi led the team quickly out of the house.

"Jack, tell me you didn't forget to bring your cigars this time."

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