Watching the screen where a white man in a baseball cap was seen filling up a green Chevrolet Cruze at a gas station, Jack double-checked the license plate to confirm it was indeed Carl Stubbs' vehicle.
Unfortunately, the man was very cautious and deliberately avoided the cameras. Jack could only see the lower half of his face obscured by the baseball cap, leaving his full appearance unclear.
"Look at his right hand," Hannah said, biting into a beef jerky stick and pointing at the screen. "He's touching the gas pump handle."
Jack's spirits lifted. Although it had been over a week since the event, this was a promising lead. He quickly pointed outside toward the gas station lot and asked the owner, "Buddy, is that pump out there the one in the video?"
The portly, middle-aged white man instinctively nodded but barely had time to react before the door jingled behind Jack, who was already running outside. The owner was left staring at the ringing bell in bewilderment.
"Jubal, I need your best fingerprint team out here ASAP," Jack said into his phone.
An hour later, Jack and Hannah returned to the operations center, where Jubal's booming voice was resonating across the room.
"Alright, everyone, thanks to the quick thinking and resourcefulness of Jack and Hannah, we've got a match from the gas station fingerprints!"
He strode to the front of the conference room and gestured toward the large screen. "Meet Sam Givens, confirmed as one of the gunmen from the school bus. He's an ex-soldier, matches the height profile, and most importantly, he's missing the pinky on his left hand."
Jubal clicked through slides showing Givens' record. "Givens served ten years in prison for armed robbery. Thanks to a little help from certain parties, he was released early not long ago. The agent who arrested him? None other than the FBI's Fugitive Task Force leader, Jess LaCroix."
As he spoke, Jubal gestured toward the glass doors of the office, inviting someone in. "Let's welcome Agent LaCroix, our resident expert on this guy. If anyone can help us bring Givens down again, it's him."
With that, Dana Mosier walked into the operations center, accompanied by a sharply dressed, square-jawed man in his early 40s.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Jess LaCroix. Welcome to one of the best in the business," Jubal announced with an enthusiasm bordering on theatrical.
Hannah nudged Jack with her elbow, whispering, "Don't you think Jubal's putting on a bit of a show?"
Jack nodded. "I'd bet good money they're old friends… with a bit of unresolved history."
Walking beside Dana, Agent LaCroix looked slightly awkward, clearly uncomfortable with Jubal's over-the-top introduction. Still, he stepped forward, placing a case of files on the table, and extended a hand to Jubal.
Standing side by side, the two men made an interesting pair—Jubal was taller, but LaCroix exuded a quiet intensity that made up for the height difference.
"Good to see you again, Jubal."
"You too, Jess. Thanks for making the time—I know how busy your team is," Jubal replied, a hint of genuine camaraderie in his voice.
"For 26 missing kids, I'll make the time. But my team is tied up with other cases, so it's just me for now," LaCroix explained.
Jubal's face grew serious again. "Fair enough. Besides, with you here, we've got all the help we need. We're not short on skilled agents."
He gestured toward Jack and Hannah. "Agents Jack Tavoller and Hannah Stephens."
LaCroix shook hands with both, pausing briefly when he got to Jack. "Wait, the Jack Tavoller? I thought Rossi would keep you under lock and key forever. Never expected to see you here in New York."
He turned to Dana with a knowing look, prompting her to roll her eyes.
Jack couldn't help but chuckle. LaCroix carried himself with the air of an old-school, hardboiled detective. "Birds of a feather flock together," Jack thought to himself, finding the man's demeanor oddly familiar.
After the introductions, LaCroix sat down to review the available intelligence while Jubal updated Jack and Hannah on the latest developments.
"The Newark office just raided Givens' last known residence. Came up empty—place looks like it hasn't been lived in for months," Jubal reported.
"What about his phone?" LaCroix interjected without looking up from the files.
"Disconnected a week ago."
"Credit card transactions? ATM withdrawals?"
"Last withdrawal was two days ago in the Bronx. We're still tracing the specifics, but you know how time-consuming that can be."
LaCroix glanced around the bustling operations center, a flicker of envy in his eyes. "You haven't changed a bit, old friend. Still letting the evidence lead the way."
Jubal grinned and pointed at Jack. "You're wrong about that. We've got Rossi's protégé here now—he's got the profiling game down to a science."
LaCroix shrugged, then asked, "What about Givens' girlfriend?"
Jubal hesitated. "Girlfriend? His ex was killed during your last operation, wasn't she?"
"I don't know her name or address, but I'd bet my badge Givens found himself another girlfriend after getting out. It's just how he operates," LaCroix explained.
Jubal frowned, glancing back at the analysts. "Why do you think that? We've got nothing on him having a girlfriend or live-in partner."
"I'll double-check for any missed leads," an analyst replied, quickly returning to their work.
LaCroix pulled out a file from his case and handed it to Jack. "It's in my original profile. Givens grew up an orphan and constantly seeks out strong, nurturing women. He'd feel lost without someone like that. Trust me—he's found someone, and she's probably older than him."
Jubal opened his mouth to retort, but Jack cut in with a raised eyebrow. "Hold up, you're betting all this on a hunch? Jess might actually have a point."
With a long-suffering sigh, Jack handed over the file to Jubal. "Look at this. His mother's photo—blonde hair, blue eyes, round chin. It's textbook imprinting."
Jubal groaned, throwing up his hands. "Fine, fine. You win, old man. Drinks are on me when this is over."
Just then, the analyst spoke up. "Sir, I might have something."
Everyone turned toward her station as she pulled up a file on the big screen. "I checked a report from Givens' parole officer. He conducted a home visit shortly after Givens was released and noted a woman present. Her name was Teri Pratt."
She displayed a copy of Pratt's driver's license—a blonde, blue-eyed woman with an angular face and soft features.
"It's her," LaCroix said confidently, taking off his reading glasses.
"How can you be so sure?" Jubal asked.
Jack answered for him, holding up the file. "Because she looks just like his mother."
Jubal groaned, rubbing his temples. "Alright, fine. Let's track her down. And Jess? I owe you a drink."
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