Page 83 of Jack's Legacy
“He's the one with courage,” Rachel said. “All of them are. These boys who are terrified but willing to speak up anyway.”
Jack squeezed her hand. “He was willing to speak up because he has you. Because you made him feel safe enough to tell the truth.”
Rachel thought about the students she'd taught. All the kids who'd come to her with problems they were too scared to share with their parents or other teachers. She'd always tried to be the adult who listened, who believed, who helped.
But this felt different. Bigger. More personal.
Because she remembered what it was like to be a teenager, scared and unsure who to trust. She remembered Isaiah and the fear that had consumed her until Shiloh had finally given her the courage to take a step of faith and leave.
These boys deserved the same chance she'd had. The chance to be believed. To be protected. To know that the adults in their lives would fight for them.
“What happens now?” Rachel asked.
“We keep investigating.”
She nodded, knowing that would be all he could tell her. Looking into his eyes, she whispered, “Be careful.”
“Always.” Jack leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’ll call you tonight.”
Rachel watched him leave, then sat alone in the conference room for a few more minutes. When she finally stood and walked out of the office, she was glad that Jacqueline had another teacher cover her period right after lunch. Now, she headed back down the hall to continue her day of teaching. She’d done what she could and just hoped it was enough.
31
Jack and Mark pulled into the parking lot of Bogdin's Fitness Center. The midafternoon crowd had already cleared out, leaving just a handful of cars scattered across the lot. But it was the woman standing in the doorway who caught Jack's attention as they pulled up.
Cheryl Mason.
Jack and Mark got out of their vehicle and approached. Her eyes tracked them like a predator watching prey.
“Well, hello, Jack. Surprised to see you today, but it’s always a pleasure.” Cheryl smiled, her voice coy as she eyed him from head to toe.
Then the two deputy vehicles and the DTF dog unit pulled into the parking lot, and her expression turned wary.
“Ma'am, we have a warrant to search these premises,” Jack said, holding up the paperwork. “Please step aside.”
Her mouth dropped open as her eyes bugged. “Martin wouldn't allow this.” Cheryl's voice was shrill, panicked underneath the anger. “This is private property. You can't just?—”
“We can, and we are,” Mark said calmly. “The warrant is legal and properly executed. You can call Mr. Bogdin if you'd like to verify, but we're coming in either way.”
Cheryl snatched the warrant from Jack's hand and scanned it, her eyes moving too fast to actually be reading. Then she shoved it back at him. “Fine. Search his office and the gym. But you're not going to find anything.”
She turned on her heel and headed back to the front desk, where she settled onto a stool. Her long nails tapped impatiently on the wooden counter as she glared with such intensity that Jack could practically feel the heat of it.
Mark and the DTF dog unit walked through the back rooms as Jack and two more deputies began a preliminary search of the gym's office. It was small and cluttered, with papers stacked on the desk and in the filing cabinet. There was a closet that looked like a pantry, with protein powder supplement containers lining the shelves. He twisted the top off one of the supplement jars but was unable to identify the powdery substance inside.
Jack worked through the room methodically, photographing everything, checking drawers and cabinets. He didn’t find anything immediately obvious. No pills sitting out in the open, no smoking gun.
The DTF dog handlers came in with their German shepherds. The dogs were alert and focused, their handlers keeping them on short leashes. One entered the office as the other moved toward Cheryl.
“This is ridiculous,” she said, her voice rising. “You're harassing us. Martin is going to sue you for?—”
One of the dogs pulled hard on its leash, nose down, heading straight for the front desk. Then the other dog followed, both animals suddenly laser-focused on the same spot.
Cheryl stood so fast her stool toppled over. “They're not allowed behind my desk. This is?—”
The first dog sniffed Cheryl, then sat down directly in front of Cheryl's purse, which was partially shoved under the counter. The second dog moved to Cheryl herself, sniffed her clothes, then walked away.
Both handlers turned to Jack with identical expressions of confirmation. “Detective,” one of them said. “We have positive alerts. The purse and the subject.”
