North American Detective: I Am Proficient In All Kinds of American IAI

Came to Sheila's residence.

Bart and Baker stood in the yard, their footsteps rubbing together.

Bart pulled Ladeen's sleeve: "Dean, how is your mother feeling recently?"

"It's pretty good." Dean seemed to think of something, and added: "That guy Thompson fell in love recently, and my mother often feels that she is going to be alone."

Bart breathed a sigh of relief.

Just be in a good mood, at least my sister won't do anything to me.

But Baker had a pained look on his face, and cursed in a low voice: "FK, I should spend some money and hire a girl to come back with me. This is a disaster."

Things like urging marriages are actually not uncommon here.

Especially in some families with a strong collective atmosphere.

But no matter Baker, how reluctantly.

The distance of seven or eight meters was finished after all.

The door was left open.

Warm lights smudge.

The stereo played brisk country folk songs.

The dining table is full of large and small dishes and dessert soup, and the long candles are scattered in a line, waiting for the host to light them, releasing warm candle flames.

The living room is next to the fireplace.

There is a small triangular Christmas tree with a height of about 1.5 meters, which is covered with colorful lights, ribbons, and gift boxes. There is also a cute and silly little squirrel squatting under the tree.

Sinclair is diligently adorning the home with various little snowflake charms and colorful ribbons to add to the Christmas spirit.

Thompson, too, is on tiptoe and has fairy lights on the walls.

Mother Sheila hummed Italian folk songs and was busy in the kitchen, baking pizza with a big pot of Italian rice beside her.

See it all.

A gentle smile appeared on the corner of Dean's mouth: "Mom, I brought back your precious eldest son and second brother."

The three of them stopped moving.

Thompson looked at Baker with some hesitation, marveled at his size, and called weakly: "Brother, uncle."

His personality was not as relaxed as it is now. He seldom talked to his elder brother before, and his second uncle was often outside, so the best relationship was with his uncle who taught him how to hunt and play with guns.

Sinclair is much more familiar with himself.

She went up to greet her, and after sweetly greeted her, she stretched out her little hand: "Brother, second uncle, you left behind lovely Sinclair and haven't come back for so many years, did you prepare a gift this time? "

Baker scratched his head with some embarrassment: "Sinclair, you have grown a lot taller. I did prepare a gift for you, but it was for you for Christmas."

"Shouldn't it be double?" Sinclair twitched his lips, looked at Bart, and said aggrievedly, "Second Uncle, what about you?"

Bart obviously knew more about Sinclair than Beck, and he took out two small badges from his pocket with a smile: "This is a gadget that Beck and I got at the Indian gathering place, which symbolizes bravery and beauty, and you and Thompson each get one. "

"Thanks."

Sinclair happily accepted it.

She doesn't really want a gift, she just uses this special way to express her presence in the hearts of her family.

My mother, Sheila, also stopped what she was doing when she heard the movement, and folded her hands in front of her chest, with a happy expression on her face, and the corner of her mouth twitched: "Tsk tsk, the missing members of the family are finally willing to come back." .”

Baker looked embarrassed: "Mom."

Bart even shrank behind Beck's tall figure, and said weakly, "Sister, long time no see."

His younger sister was able to shoot and kill wild boars at the age of eight, and at the age of fifteen or sixteen, she became the most powerful cowgirl on more than a dozen farms at that time.

I don't know how many people of the same age I have beaten.

The old man in the family regretted that Sheila was a girl more than once, otherwise he could have brought them back to New York and reproduced the glory of the family in the 1940s and 1950s.

If it wasn't for the unlucky old man Dean, when he came to buy a pony, Sheila took a fancy to him, tied him back forcibly, and finally gave birth to children in a down-to-earth manner.

Maybe the current Sheila has become the tyrant of the farm.

The excitement in Sheila's eyes could not be concealed, and it was almost overflowing, but she still put on airs, raised her head, and walked up to the cowardly Baker, "Didn't you say that you are very popular with girls on the phone?" What about women?"

"That." Baker, who was five-year-old and three-year-old, blushed, and couldn't hold back a fart.

This guy is so honest, it's no wonder he's in the warehousing industry, and he's so miserable.

Bart couldn't stand it anymore, and boldly said: "Sheila, you also know that we often travel to and fro, and very few girls are willing to suffer this hardship, and"

"Shut up!", Sheila gave him a sideways glance: "Bart, as a forty-seven-year-old bachelor, you need to reflect on yourself. Mom said more than once that giving birth to you is better than giving birth to a little cow, at least a little cow." When they grow up, they can still be milked."

Bart: "."

Didn't my mother like me the most before!

How dare you say that to me in front of Sheila!

so sad.

Beat the two of them.

Sheila snorted: "Okay, don't block the door here, come and eat."

Dean smiled, and pulled Rabeck and Bart: "Mom is hard-spoken and soft-hearted. She knows that you are coming back today, and she is so excited. She has been up since five o'clock in the morning to prepare ingredients, and forced Thompson and the others to decorate the house. They have been busy all the time. until now."

The real relatives complain about you, but the kindness hidden in their hearts cannot be concealed.

A few glasses of home-brewed beer.

Everyone also let go.

Bart talked about his strange experiences over the years: there was a trash guy who drove to the warehouse where the dead old man was hiding, and became rich overnight. There is an industry leader who put a lot of money into a gamble, and finally worked hard all night, but he was forced to take away a truckload of garbage

Baker was much more silent.

The only thing he deserves to be praised, perhaps, is that he has left a title of Lion Baker in the industry for more than three years.

The people he beat up.

Add up not one hundred, but also eighty.

Baker made the biggest fortune, and it didn't come from warehousing leaks.

It was he and Bart, who were about to come back, but found that they had no money for air tickets. In desperation, they went to work in bars to earn travel expenses.

Bart works as a bartender.

He worked as a 'sexy' bartender—a muscular waiter in a sexy little apron.

Occasionally, at the invitation of some female guests, Baker will go to their homes to help repair water pipes, unblock sewers, and earn some hard money.

a month's time.

Baker found himself making more money than he had made in the previous year.

If not come back for Christmas.

Baker reckons he might consider a career change.

But this matter is inconvenient to come up with.

In short.

This meal tonight was quite enjoyable.

the next day.

A large group of people, driving two cars, rushed to the farm in the suburbs.

Strictly speaking, American farmers are more like landowners. They own the ownership of the land and forests, and they are very free whether they are planting on the farm or grazing on the pasture.

Dean's grandfather is such a small and medium-sized farmer. He has a few pieces of farmland, planted a lot of corn crops, a few pastures, grazing some beef cattle, dairy cows and lambs, and a special horse farm. A vineyard, a small oak forest.

Overall assets are hard to say.

But raised more than a dozen cowboys and their families.

In the early years.

Grandpa Dean even brought his cowboys to kill many of his peers, and buried their bones in the fertile soil under their feet, and finally stabilized.

In short, he is not a good person.

But as you get older.

In Dean's impression, the things on the farm are now handled by the uncle and the cowboys. Apart from fishing, the grandfather and grandmother usually go to New York to travel and meet old friends by the way. They are almost retired.

Dean's grandfather built a very ordinary Italian-style Tuscan building near the oak forest. The white oak railings surround a well-manicured lawn yard, which is quite a kind of seclusion in the mountains.

The little old man was wearing suspender jeans, and was leading a middle-aged and young man, cooking a fat and tender lamb, surrounded by a dozen white families, forming a large circle, drinking home-brewed corn wine, chatting and spanking.

Hear the car.

Old Ryan quickly put down his work and greeted him.

In fact, it was the 'first time' that Dean met people from his grandfather's side.

But surprisingly there is no sense of unfamiliarity.

Integrating the memory of the predecessor is one aspect.

The main ones are Grandpa Old Ryan and Uncle Little Ryan, all of whom have very forthright personalities, and the kind of enthusiasm without barriers makes it difficult for you to be on guard.

Dean and others received a warm welcome.

Bart is miserable.

Old Ryan directly picked up the horsewhip next to him and gave him a few slaps, before the distressed old woman led him into the room, talking about his longing that he hadn't seen for several years.

Beat the son.

Old Ryan looked at Baker and Dean, and he couldn't hide his love in his eyes: "Baker, you look more manly than you did three or more years ago. You are worthy of being our Lucchese! And Dean , you were carved out of the same mold as your great-grandfather, if it wasn't for your mother"

"Ahem!", Sheila coughed twice, looked at Old Ryan with a threatening gaze, and changed the subject, "Father, why did I see the Siri family?"

Little Ryan on the side frowned: "Harry Sealy was killed on the bed the day before yesterday. He is the grandson of the Lucchese family in New York, so those bastards want us to go over to offer condolences."

Hear the name.

Dean, who had been silent all this time, raised his eyebrows and interjected, "Uncle, you mean Harry Seely? The guy who runs a drive-through supermarket?"

Isn't this the same idiot who cheated Ruosi and sent photos to humiliate him?

The No. 1 killer in South America was frightened by Ruosi's background, and said that he would solve the opponent for free, but there was no news after that.

Now it seems that Harry Siri has died, but his family should know something, so he didn't dare to say anything.

"Yes, it's him. He probably offended some important person. Anyway, his father didn't come forward to speak out, but they and us, after all, had some blood relationship decades ago, so we may go to New York this time. "

When Little Ryan said this, his face was not very good-looking.

They are a branch of the Lucchese family. In the 1940s, during the heyday of the mafia, they failed in the struggle, moved to Los Angeles, and slowly got better.

This time, the Lucchese family in New York, taking this opportunity, suddenly contacted their already humble branch, who didn't know what kind of medicine was sold in the gourd!

"alright!"

Old Ryan glared at his eldest son, ended the topic, led everyone into the yard, and introduced Dean grandly to the cowboys and their families.

Today is Dean's twenty-second birthday.

Of course, the main reason is that the old Ryan wanted to adopt Dean and inherit the surname Lucchese, which caused Sheila to be very close to him and rarely let Dean live here alone.

So the Cowboys aren't very familiar with him.

But these are small things.

Dean drank a small jug of corn wine in one go, and was immediately welcomed by them.

conversation room.

Dean realized that this group of cowboys should be the Mafia who joined Old Ryan's generation back then, but after losing the fight, they followed them here to seek a living.

In fact, they can be considered to go in time.

A few years later.

The FBI carried out a big cleansing of these mafias.

Although the root cannot be broken.

But that group of big bosses, those who are in prison, those who are bloody on the streets, are the old Ryan who left early, and now most of them have both sons and daughters, and each has a career.

Now the Italian Mafia in the United States, although it has slowed down, changed its form, and intervened in the entertainment industry, but its momentum is not as good as before. It is like a dog whose bones have been broken. There are legends about them.

evening.

The Cowboys leave with their families.

Old Ryan led a brown pony about 1.2 meters in length and walked up to Dean: "My grandson, I once promised you that I would pick a good-blooded Quarter pony for you. Come, try Give it a try."

Quarter horses are famous for racing horses in the United States, but they are also widely loved by western cowboys. They were the best cowboy companions before the mechanized age.

even now.

A high-quality quarter horse is worth at least more than 100,000 US dollars.

This is a very precious gift.

Although Dean himself has never ridden a horse, he has memories of it in his life.

With some trepidation, he wanted to touch the little pony to see if he would reject him.

Turns out Dean just got close.

The little pony stepped on the grass uneasily, backing away.

Old Ryan frowned, touched the pony's head soothingly, and asked strangely, "Dean, have you come into contact with any beasts recently?"

Dean suddenly said: "Yes, I went into the mountain and killed a few gray wolves."

talking.

He winked at Thompson.

Thompson hurried to the car outside and took out three rolls of wrapped wolf skins.

The three wolf skins have already undergone simple processing, but they still need to be further processed before they can be used as decorations and processed into clothes.

"This is a gift I prepared for you."

Little Ryan picked up the leather and shook it, sniffing the dry smell on it, with a smile on his face: "It's an adult North American gray wolf, Dean, it seems that you are lucky, this thing is rare here."

A lot of fun.

Around ten in the evening.

Sheila took Thompson and Sinclair to chat with her grandmother.

Dean and his group of men followed Old Ryan to the living room inside the house.

It has the flavor of an Italian conference hall.

Five or six meters long table, two neat rows of oak chairs, right behind the head seat, hung a portrait of a handsome man with black hair.

If you look closely.

That man's facial features are somewhat similar to Dean's, but the other's eyes are deeper.

Below the photo frame, there is a line of small words: House Lucchese.

He was the father of Old Lane and the founder of a branch of the Lucchese family.

Old Ryan sat in the first place, picked up the spoon, and tapped the plate, his weathered face was full of fatigue: "Everyone, as a member of the Lucchese family, we are now facing a big problem."

bad mood.

I feel that what I write and what I think in my mind are completely different things.

In addition, the dog thief has no yang.

I didn't win the bid, but I had a low fever.

The staff said that the urban area has been released, and it is estimated that they will pay attention to it in the future, and they brought an electric heater for the dog thief.

grateful!

The dog thief is now going to take a hot shower to see if he can be revived with full blood.

If not.

I have 6,000 left, so I owe it first and make it up tomorrow.

Otherwise, the writing would be watery, bland, and disrupt the original rhythm and foreshadowing of the plot.