with someone very high up politically who knew the particulars about Vic’s life and hated him enough to hire someone to help pull this off. Why not bribe a janitor?
At the thought of anyone harming Jeremy, searing pain reached his gut, almost cutting off his breathing.
“Your son is tough. We’re going to find him, Vic.”
He nodded and brushed the tears from his eyes with his shirtsleeve. They checked every inch of the closet for clues that Jeremy had been held there. As far as Vic could tell, there was no sign of a struggle.
After they’d taken half a dozen fingerprints and put them in bags to send to forensics, Vic looked at the yellow bucket wringer in the corner. He walked over and lifted the mop. In the bottom of the bucket he saw a round two-inch button.
He leaned over and picked it up. The second he saw the picture, his heart leaped. “This looks like one of the action hero magnets Jeremy got for Christmas!”
“If that’s his, he’s left you a clue, Vic. He’s not your son for nothing.”
“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
