Removing his phone from his jeans, he took a picture of the box. He wasn’t sure what his find meant, but he didn’t want to leave without documenting it. An idea struck him. He tore off pieces of toilet paper and used one to place strands of hair from a brush lying on the bathroom sink. Returning to the master bathroom, he did a different piece of the toilet paper to do the same thing to the hair in the brush he found there.
Deciding he’d spent enough time searching the house, he made his way through to the back door.
He heard a car door slam, and he rerouted his steps to a window that looked out at the front. An SUV parked in the Hanson driveway, the back hatch open. Only a moment passed before a hand reached to close the trunk door, revealing a woman standing with Caleb Hanson at the back. She spoke to the boy as he shrugged his backpack on, but Ben couldn’t hear what she said. Caleb nodded and started walking, his steps taking him around the back of the house.
Ben ducked out of sight into the pantry just as Caleb came through the unlocked back door. Since he left the pantry door slightly cracked, he watched the young boy drop his backpack on the kitchen counter, stop at the refrigerator to grab a soda, then wander to a different part of the house.
Once Ben heard the distinct sound of a video game, he stepped out of the pantry and through the back door, locking the knob before he pulled it closed. The door had been unlocked for Caleb to come inside when he was dropped off, but Ben couldn’t leave it unsecured with the young boy there alone.
Careful not to draw suspicion, he jogged back to his truck, his mind whirling. His gut churned like he’d just discovered something critical to his case, but he wasn’t sure what that was. Rather than driving back to the motel, he placed a call.
“Hey,” Luke answered at once. “Good timing. I’m here with Easton and Jackson.”
Ben didn’t know whereherewas, but it didn’t matter. His brothers were the exact sounding board he needed.
“Good. I need some perspective on what I just found. So Hanson left his shift after lunch today. His attitude was shit, which is saying a lot since he’s never friendly. The thing is, whenever he’s not at work, he’s with Caleb. As soon as I could, I headed over to his place to do some snooping. No one was home. The back door was unlocked.”
“So you went inside,” Jackson finished for him.
“Right, just for a cursory look. The place is a dump, but there wasn’t anything that stood out until I went into the bathroom, which is obviously the one Caleb uses. I found an empty box of hair dye in the trash and two more boxes in the cabinet. The color matches Caleb’s hair more than Hanson’s.”
“Weird,” Easton said. “But what does it mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Ben admitted. “I mean, what reason would he have to change Caleb’s appearance, but not his own?”
“Well, why does anyone change their appearance at all?” Jackson asked. “If they’re on the run. If they’re hiding.”
“If they’re bored with their look,” Easton interjected. “I mean, women color their hair all the time. It’s weird for a kid to do it, but maybe he wanted something cool like a friend of his has. It wouldn’t be that big of a stretch.”
“He’s a fourth grader. I doubt he’s worried about his hair. He’s more preoccupied with video games,” Ben said. “Anyway, I’m guessing Luke filled you in on my theory?”
“Yeah,” Jackson responded. “You think the kid is not Hanson’s biological son.”
“Well, either that or Hanson is his dad, but his mom was never his mom. So while I was inside, I got some hair from their brushes. Think we can find a lab to do some DNA testing? I know it’s a long shot, but it’s all I’ve got at the moment.”
“If it closes this case sooner, then we’ll make it happen. I’ll call Alex. They have a private lab they use, and he can get a rush on it.”
Jackson’s Army buddy, Alex Crandell, owned the successful Atlas Security. Because he and a few of his security operatives were aware of the Legends, Alex often helped Jackson and his brothers with cases.
“Thanks, brother,” Ben said. “I’m not sure where to go from here if this lead doesn’t pan out.”
“Something tells me we’re heading in the right direction even if your theory is not right,” Luke interjected. “I checked into the mom like you asked. Nothing stood out except for one thing I thought was odd. The doctor of record for Delia Hanson whenshe gave birth and had her miscarriages is the same doctor who signed her death certificate.”
“Did she die in childbirth?” Jackson questioned.
“No. She committed suicide,” Luke said.
“Did you check out the doctor?” Easton spoke up while Ben processed the new intel.
“He died some time ago. He has family living in California,” Luke answered.
“So why do we care if he signed her death certificate?” Easton asked.
“Because he was already retired when she died,” Jackson returned.
Ben stayed silent. His mind worked through the different pieces, tossing them around in his head, looking for how they fit together. His brothers continued to talk, obviously not realizing that he didn’t chime in. Their back-and-forth was a piece of home that he’d been missing since beginning this case. The banter was welcomed background noise, familiar in its chaos, allowing him to think.
“Ben. Ben. You still there?”
