The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

Chapter 251 Jack from Sheniu

At the entrance of the "Stay" bar, Jack glanced at the small parking lot, almost all of which were old pickups.

Although Montana has the reputation of "the state of wealth" and "the state of luxury cars", but because of the geographical climate and insufficient population, the level of economic development is relatively average, and the per capita GDP ranks last in the United States.

Therefore, in this state, it is rare to see expensive luxury cars, but all over the United States, luxury cars and antique cars with Montana state are everywhere.

The name of "The State of Wealth" comes from the state's rich mineral resources, but the most indispensable thing in North America is mineral resources. The inconvenience of transportation and the lack of labor force lead to the fact that agriculture in this state still occupies a dominant position.

As for the "luxury car state", it is very interesting, because Montana is a tax-free state, and the state's laws stipulate that buying a car in this state does not require annual inspections and inspections for emissions.

Also in California, if you buy a new or used car worth 2 yuan, you have to pay about 3 to yuan in consumption tax. Those luxury cars that cost millions, the tax of more than yuan is very painful for those rich people. .

So someone will register a company in Montana, purchase a luxury car in the name of the company, and put the license plate of the state on it. Usually, as long as it is not excessive, the IRS will not keep a close eye on it.

This led to Montana once becoming the state with the largest number of luxury cars in the United States.

Of course, all of this has nothing to do with these locals living in distress. From this old-fashioned bar, it can be seen that this so-called "militia" is almost similar to a mutual aid organization that hugs each other for warmth.

This can be seen from their actions in helping Diana Goring drive away her husband and rescue him from the devil.

They may not have high education, have extreme ideas, discriminate against minorities, live poor and conservative lives, and blame everything on that damn federal government, but Jack still wants to try to communicate with them.

After all, no one knows the local situation better than these people, especially when that Francis Goring was once one of them.

Jack walked into this bar, which was not very big, and there were only a dozen or so people.

“Hello, bring me a local beer.”

Jack walked to the bar and showed a business smile to the bartender aunt. The dimples on the baby's face made the aunt look dazed for a while, and she involuntarily reached for the empty wine glass beside her.

"I'll buy this cup as a thank you for saving that unfortunate woman. I heard she almost died, but please leave immediately after drinking. Federal accomplices are not welcome here."

A voice came from the small table nearby. Jack looked around and saw an old white man with thin hair, about fifty or sixty years old, but who looked very capable, staring at him.

"Thank you. It seems that I should drink slowly. After all, I still have a few questions to ask. Are you Harris Townsend?"

Seeing that no one responded, Jack still smiled, took a sip of the beer handed over by the bartender aunt, and it tasted quite good. It should be a private brew with barley as the main raw material.

"Can I have cranberry pie? This is my first time in Montana. I heard that this is a must-try food here. If possible, it would be even better to have another steak. I am so hungry now that I can eat it The next whole bison."

Jack said handing over some bills.

"Hey, kid, don't push yourself too hard. Harris said you're not welcome here." Opposite the old white man who spoke before, a strong man stood up and stared at Jack with an unkind look on his face.

"Well, Bobby, we're not rude savages."

The old white man also stood up, pressed the strong man's shoulders, and then looked at Jack's waist.

"Glock 22, a very practical guy, but made in Europe."

As he spoke, he patted the revolver pinned to his waist, "Smith & Wesson, a pure American product, I'm wondering which one is more reliable."

Jack smiled and opened his coat, revealing his armpit holster.

"Actually, I like this one better. FK7.5, Eastern European. Not long ago, I used it to kill a guy who was wearing body armor and a bulletproof helmet from 45 yards away."

The atmosphere in the bar instantly solidified. Everyone stopped talking and looked nervously at the two people in the confrontation.

"Actually, I came here to ask for help. An hour ago, we dug up the bodies of three innocent people in Francis Goering's rose garden. They were covered with scars. Each of them suffered for a long time before they died. Months of brutal torture.”

"You must have seen the news when they disappeared, and now Francis' accomplices are still at large. If you choose to shut up out of fear, I can understand, and even I can leave without finishing this delicious beer."

"Enough, Francis and his follower are the real cowards!" The old white man shouted angrily.

"I'm Harris, Lily, give this bastard something to eat, I want to hear what he wants to say."

-

After half an hour,

When Jiejie arrived in a hurry and pushed open the bar door, the scene in front of her made her dumbfounded.

There was a mess of glasses and plates in front of Jack, and his mouth was full of oil. The fat bartender was smiling and refilling the glass in front of him with beer.

"Aha, here she is. This is Detective Jennifer Jeange. She is the real hero who saved Angela Miller."

Jack's cheeks were flushed, and he raised his wine glass to greet Jie Jie who still had gauze on his face.

"Respect, Ms. Rangre!"

"Respect, Ms. Rangre!"

Everyone in the bar picked up the wine glasses in front of them.

Jiejie looked dazed, completely confused about what happened here before, and was stuffed with a full glass of beer.

-

"I really don't know who Francis's accomplice is, I've only seen him once, and that was through a telescope."

Harris Townsend blushed from drinking, leaned shoulder to shoulder with Jack, and said solemnly.

"I went hunting with a few guys, and I happened to bump into those two beach boys. At that time, that trash Francis Francis had already been kicked out of the 'militia' by us, but none of us thought he would be the murderer. If I had known, I would have known."

Harris drank the rest of the beer in one go, slammed the thick beer glass on the table, and continued.

"The guy was in his early twenties, very thin, pale, followed Francis like a follower, and kept whispering."

"I'm sorry, that's all I know, but my guys and I will all go out to assist the Sheriff in their search. Once I find that bastard, I want"

"Anyway, thank you, and Lily, your cranberry pie is really good." Jack shook hands with Harris, gave him a business card, and kissed Lily, the bartender present.