style="font-size:15px;"> “Dear Lord, I hope that’s true. It means he was dragged in here and able to get it out of his pocket or backpack before he was taken away.” Vic slid the magnet into another baggie.
Kit said, “You drive to the lab quick while I round up the crew. We’ll meet you at headquarters. Do you have Jeremy’s prints on file?”
“Yes. Last year he wanted to know what it was like when we made an arrest, so I had him fingerprinted at the office to experience the process. I made a copy for him to take home, but his prints are on my computer.”
“Then before long you should know if you have a match.”
Vic made sure the closet was locked and then hurried outside to his car while Kit took off in the other direction. On the drive to headquarters, he phoned Claire.
“Any news?” she cried. Her question meant his precious son hadn’t come home. His heart almost failed him, but he had to focus. Every minute Jeremy was gone, the chances of getting him back alive diminished.
“Claire? Do me a favor? Check on those little two-inch magnets he has in his room with the action figures on them.” This was a long shot, but it was imperative he investigate every possible lead. “I think there were eight of them. Let me know if any are missing.”
“Just a second. He usually keeps them in the top drawer of his desk.”
Thank heaven she knew his son so well. Every second while he waited, visions of what could be happening to Jeremy passed through his mind, torturing him.
“Vic? I found six.”
“Do you know which two are missing?”
“Yes. His favorites—Wolverine and Sabretooth. Why do you ask?”
He looked at the face of the magnet through the baggie. “Because I’m holding Wolverine in my hand. I believe he left me a clue in the janitor’s closet outside his classroom. I found it in the bottom of the bucket.”
“Oh Vic—I know he did.”
The conviction in her voice sent chills through him. “How do you know?”
“Did I ever tell you about the password your son thought up while we were playing spy one day?”
Vic drew in a deep breath. “No. What password?”
In the next minute she explained about their secret code. “He knew exactly what he was doing when he left Wolverine there for you to find. That clever boy. I love him so much. I know you’re going to find him,” she said with tears in her voice. “I just know it!”
She was a marvel. More than anything on earth he wanted to believe her. He couldn’t lose Jeremy. The thought was unfathomable. “You’ve given me hope, Claire. Thank you. I’m at headquarters now. I’ll call you later.”
He hung up and, after haphazardly parking his vehicle, hurried through the building to the forensics lab. To Vic’s relief the head lab technician was still there. “Stan?”
Before Vic said anything else, the other man rushed over to him with a concerned look on his face. “I heard about your son. What can I do to help?”
His compassion was touching. “We’ve got more fingerprint samples coming from the staff at the school, but I’d like to find out if Jeremy’s fingerprints are on this.” He handed him the bag with the magnet. “We found it in the janitor’s closet outside Jeremy’s classroom. I’ll go upstairs and send my son’s set of fingerprints to you right now.”
“I’ll get on it immediately.”
Vic raced up the stairs two at a time. Little did he dream that one day those fingerprints he’d taken to satisfy his son’s curiosity would be needed.
It didn’t take him long to get on his computer and send the vital information to the lab from his personal file. When Vic went back down, he found Kit had arrived with the other bags. “I’ve got Leroy Bennett’s address. When you’re ready, I’ll drive over to his place with you and we’ll find out if he was really sick today.”
Vic’s teeth ground together. “Yup. Someone had a key to that closet who shouldn’t have.”
They moved over to the table where Stan was working. He had images of Jeremy’s fingerprints up on the screen in front of him. He studied the print that had been taken off the magnet with his magnifying loop. Finally he turned to Vic. “They’re a match.”
Until Stan gave him the verdict, Vic didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath. Kit clamped his hand on Vic’s shoulder. “Okay. Now we know where we’re going with this.”
He nodded. “Let’s head upstairs and run Leroy Bennett’s name through the IAFIS database. If he has a criminal record, we’ll find out. Thanks, Stan.”
“We’ll do whatever we can down here to help.”
Vic hurried back upstairs to his office and typed in Bennett’s name on the computer in case he had a police record. Kit stood next to him while they waited to see if anything came up.
“Here we go,” Vic muttered.
William Leroy Bennett, 39, Austin, Texas
Six feet
180 pounds
Green eye tattoo above inner wrist of left arm
Two snake tattoos on his chest
A half-moon shaped scar on side of his chin
Dark blond hair short cropped
Arrested in a park in Austin, Texas. He and several other individuals had a confrontation with another group of males. Both sides made derogatory comments. The altercation resulted in a fistfight. Bennett delivered the punch that knocked the victim unconscious. He eventually died. Bennett was determined to suffer from PTSD after a tour of duty in Iraq. After serving two months in prison on a charge of involuntary manslaughter, the charge was dropped and he was released.
Kit frowned. “Look at the date.”
“It’s close to the date when I made that arrest. He’s only been out of prison three months. No arrests since then, but it’s too light a sentence,” Vic muttered. “The district isn’t allowed to hire anyone who’s had a prison record, but since the charge was dropped, I guess the rule didn’t apply.”
“The information on Leroy’s school file says he started working for the district a week after his release from prison. Someone higher up had the power to pull strings like that,” Kit theorized. “I’ll get the full police report on the other men involved in the assault. Maybe the ones causing the confrontation with Leroy work for someone who gives them orders when they want a hit made.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” Vic got to his feet. “Before the night is over I want to talk to the person at the district who hired him, and find out who put the pressure on him or her. It’s time to pay Leroy a visit to find out just how sick he is. Let’s go in my car.”
“I’ll call
