After a month-long break, Jimmy returned to New York from the snowy mountains of the Alps, and he really felt a bit out of sorts. Having been by the sea and in the mountains for a while, suddenly being surrounded by concrete felt quite stifling, increasing Jimmy's desire to buy a villa or perhaps a small farm around New York.

He actually owns a small farm, but it's in Montana, an inheritance from his late mother. However, it was always managed by a company Tom arranged for. The key problem is the distance—it's too far. Not only is living there out of the question, even a visit takes two days.

Buying something within New York State or New Jersey would be much more convenient. Driving back to Manhattan wouldn't take too long and should be acceptable, though he needs to discuss it with Nia to see if she agrees.

Stuck in traffic, though only a few kilometers away, Jimmy still took his time getting to the office. The traffic in New York has never been good. He drove his own car, which wasn't equipped with hidden police lights or sirens, so he couldn't take advantage of privileges even if he wanted to.

After parking, Jimmy grabbed a backpack and headed upstairs. Having been on a month-long honeymoon, Mark and the others had been handling the department affairs, so it was only right to bring them some souvenirs.

"I'm back." Jimmy pushed open the office door and had just said a word when he saw Mark, his left arm once again strapped in a triangular bandage across his chest. "WTF! Mark, what happened to you?"

Jimmy placed the bag on the sofa and walked over to Mark, asking, "Why are you injured again? Is it serious?"

Mark turned around, about to stand up, but Jimmy pressed down on his shoulder: "Stay seated. Tell me, what happened?"

Mark said, "It was an accident. Julia and I got into a scuffle with some gang members while investigating a case. Julia's fine; I got hit on the arm."

Jimmy asked, "Caught anyone yet?"

"No," Mark replied. "It was in an alley. We saw them, but couldn't confirm their identities."

Jimmy inquired, "Any leads?"

Mark shook his head: "No need to dig further. It was just an accident. Among those who attacked, there were three Black men and two Hispanics, but the features weren't distinctive enough to track them down."

"Alright, if Mark says so, then that's that. Where's Julia? I brought gifts for you guys."

Jimmy went over to the sofa, took out two small snow globes—featuring a peak from the Alps, with a layer of snow at the base that swirls when shaken. A popular little trinket among tourists.

Mark took one and placed it on the desk: "Julia hasn't arrived yet. Thanks."

Jimmy set the other one on Julia's desk and returned to his spot. Feeling his desk and chair, he found no dust, indicating that Mark and the others had been regularly tidying it up. The feeling of having subordinates is nice. As he powered on the computer, he asked, "Any cases lately?"

Mark replied, "Just the case we're investigating, a home invasion homicide. A father and son were killed, and the room was ransacked. But since both were killed, we can't confirm what's missing."

Jimmy said, "Why is it assigned to us? This should be an NYPD case."

Mark responded, "The homeowner is a retired FDA employee, just retired last year."

Jimmy had nothing to say. The FDA is a federal agency, and it's standard for the FBI to handle murder cases involving federal employees, even if the person is retired. There's really nothing he can say.

Jimmy instructed, "Organize the investigated information for me to review. Also, get in touch with Julia; she's never been late before, what's going on?"

Mark responded, "Yeah, I'll give her a call."

Mark first handed Jimmy a few documents from the desk, then grabbed the phone to call Julia. "No answer."

Jimmy immediately looked up at Mark: "When was the last time she came to work?"

Mark answered, "Last Friday. I haven't contacted her over the weekend."

Jimmy tapped his fingers on the table, pondering for a moment, then said: "Try calling again. If there's still no response in ten minutes, go check her place."

Mark nodded and dialed again.

After a while, Mark said, "Time's up, no message back, no answer."

Jimmy stood to grab his coat, "Let's go, I'll take you over there."

Jimmy drove the Suburban that had been parked for a month and headed over the Manhattan Bridge towards Brooklyn.

Both Mark and Julia rented apartments in Brooklyn. Unlike when Jimmy first joined the FBI and rented an apartment close to the office, they couldn't afford that. The suitable apartment size here is too expensive, and the affordable locations are too far. Better to go further and rent a suitable apartment.

Ever since coming to New York, Jimmy had always been in Manhattan, both renting and buying there, because he could afford it. For new agents, the salary is tight. Even with overtime pay and miscellaneous earnings, it doesn't add up much. In Manhattan, besides the expensive rent, the daily living expenses are high, making it unsuitable for newcomers.

Arriving at Julia's apartment, they went to the top floor. Jimmy quickly realized the room was empty. He sent Mark to knock on the door while he himself knocked on the opposite door.

"Knock knock." "Is anyone home?" Jimmy called out while knocking, of course, standing to the side of the wall. Standing directly in front of the door is a dangerous act, something he hadn't done in a long time.

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