"No?" Second son George seemed to be trying hard to remember. A five-year-old child would have some memory, especially since that day was so special for him.
"Nothing happened, but we left early that day. There was a clown who made me a balloon animal, but I couldn't even recognize what it was."
Connie's expression was a bit uncertain.
"After that, he followed us around. Although he didn't do anything inappropriate, my mom got scared, so we left."
"You never mentioned this before," George said, puzzled.
"If they hadn't analyzed so much, I wouldn't have remembered either. Come on, I was only ten years old back then," Connie said, annoyed.
"Garcia, check the details about this carnival," Rossi quickly said, leaning towards the phone.
Half an hour later, Garcia sent over photos of the carnival organizer and the location where it was held, on a vacant lot less than five miles from where Connie and her siblings used to live.
According to her, the carnival was about to end and would likely move to Illinois in the next few days.
"Notify the Indianapolis Police Department to dispatch support. Let's go check it out," Rossi said.
Seeing JJ pick up her phone to contact the local police, Jack quickly opened the door, got into the car, and entered the driver's seat.
It was getting late, and as they say, the longer the night, the more dreams one has. Now that they had a clear lead, they had to seize the opportunity. Perhaps today they could piece together the final part of this case.
"But I have a question. What exactly does Rossi mean by 'carnival'? Isn't that something held annually at amusement parks?" Jack's question made everyone who had just gotten into the car look at him.
The word "carnival" directly translates to "carnival," and Jack had heard of various anime carnivals and events like BlizzCon hosted by gaming companies.
But from what Rossi said, it seemed there were people who held such events annually in different places?
Emily looked at him incredulously. "Are you serious? There's actually a boy who hasn't been to a carnival?"
"I haven't either," Reid raised his hand from the back seat.
After a round of discussion, Jack finally understood what a "carnival" was.
It was actually similar to a circus, a traveling amusement park that tours different places every year.
In each place, they would set up a large open space, build carousels, small Ferris wheels, and various game facilities.
They would also distribute flyers, attract tourists, offer cheap snacks and drinks, and lure children with candy and popcorn. Local businesses usually welcomed their arrival as the increased foot traffic would boost sales.
"Okay, I thought only the ones in Rio de Janeiro could be called carnivals."
Jack was disappointed; it sounded just like a local fair.
Rossi, in a much better mood, despite looking tired, joked along.
"Not all carnivals involve exposing breasts."
Brazil's annual carnival, held at the end of February to early March, is famous worldwide for its grand samba parades.
The samba dancers on the floats would dress in elaborate costumes and feathers, sometimes even going topless, painting their bodies in vibrant patterns to attract tourists' attention.
"So you all went to carnivals when you were kids?" Reid asked, looking envious.
"Every year," JJ nodded.
"Me too. My first drink was at a carnival. My mom accidentally gave me a cocktail, and I slept for an entire day after drinking it," Emily recalled.
Well, it seemed both women had complete childhoods. Jack now understood that this type of carnival was indeed similar to a local fair, though livelier and only held once a year.
When they arrived at the location Garcia had found, they didn't see a lively carnival scene. Instead, it looked like an after-party, with people busy dismantling equipment and packing up.
"A dark-colored old Ford pickup," Jack indicated to the others.
At the back of the pickup, a man in his fifties or sixties wearing dirty overalls was loading crates of empty bottles onto the truck while loudly directing others.
"You seem to be in charge here?" Rossi approached him, keeping a distance of about three or four meters.
The man stopped moving and slowly turned to look at the BAU team.
Jack, not in the habit of wearing suits, had taken off his jacket in the car on this sunny day with temperatures above 20 degrees Celsius. He was wearing only a long-sleeved T-shirt, revealing his Glock and the shoulder holster sewn by Hannah, with a pair of tinted polarized sunglasses on his face.
Strictly speaking, these weren't sunglasses. They didn't block out the sun much, but they did enhance contrast in low-light conditions.
The others hadn't made any effort to hide their identities. The women wore professional outfits and sunglasses, while Reid, despite the heat, insisted on wearing his somewhat ridiculous knitted sweater, making him the least looking like a federal agent.
The man seemed to realize his reaction had been a bit excessive and tried to act nonchalant.
"You're late. The carnival is over. See you next year."
Emily discreetly moved a few steps to the side, blocking one of the exits. "You seem to be in a hurry?"
"Time is money, my friend. There's no money to be made here anymore, so we need to move on," the man said, regaining his composure.
Rossi asked pointedly, "In a hurry to go where? Springfield?"
The man's actions halted again at those words.
"We need to talk to one of your clowns," Reid said directly.
The man turned again, forcing a grim smile. "Clowns? We're not a circus. Only circuses have clowns."
"Are you sure? What about the guy making balloon animals?" Rossi pressed.
"Maybe..." The man began to stammer. "What do you guys want?"
Just then, two local police cars arrived, and four officers got out to provide backup.
Rossi pulled out his badge, revealing his identity. "FBI, I'm Agent Rossi. Let's talk. Do you have a son?"
"Yes, one son," the man replied, now completely flustered.
"Raising him must have been difficult for you, right? People always complain about him, don't they?"
The man nodded instinctively.
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