"Are you sure, Dad…..I know you want to help..but …" Ricky stood outside the training room at the Police Academy, nervously shifting his feet. Next to him A.J. put a calming hand on his shoulder.
"It's about time you went on the offensive, son. We need to know what or who is behind you and your sister's harassment, otherwise you both might have to dropout." he said. At the mention of Ceci, the younger Simons face hardened.
"You're right, Dad…thanks. Whatever happens, thanks."
A.J. refrained from giving Ricky a hug, only a pat on the arm. "That's my boy, now go on in, we should know something in a few."
Obediently Ricky opened the door and went in, and A.J. could hear the room went from noisy to silent, with only a few muttered voices. Sergeant Race nodded at him, then went into the room also, closing the door behind him.
Immediately A.J. went down the corridor, then slipped into an adjacent room, which held a long one way window. Rick was already in there in front of the window, adjusting a speaker built into the wall.
"Everything set?" A.J. asked, settling into a seat.
"Yep, got Race the goggles and everything. Looks like it's time to start."
As Rick spoke, the brothers could see roll being taken, with Ricky noticeably having had to move to the front row. As the training officer finished his list, he cleared his throat and looked at Ricky.
"Simon, is there a reason you are not at your assigned seat?"
A burst of muffled snickers greeted the question, and Sgt. Race turned his head to the back row of cadets, who instantly became quiet.
"I'm sorry, sir. My seat is not …..working. Sir." Ricky answered, red-faced.
"Well, we'll just have to see." The officer responded, and a nervous buzz sounded.
Walking stiffly to the younger man's regular seat, Race bent down, then used a small flashlight to peer under the chair. He frowned, then stood straight up.
"Attention!" he barked, and all the cadets jumped to their feet.
"Whoever tampered with this seat has just earned expulsion from the Academy; there is and has always been a policy against hazing of fellow cadets. We have already asked two cadets to leave, would anyone else like to tell me why you want to make it at least one more?"
It was dead silent in the room, and Race spoke again, distain in his voice.
"If someone is willing to damage academy property or harm another cadet, what makes you think they wouldn't hesitate to do it in the field. Have any of you thought of that?"
Now there was a low murmur from the front of the room, and the Sgt. strode forward until he was even with two men. Both shifted uncomfortably under his glare, then the shorter of the two spoke.
"Sir, how can you tell if someone has…done something to a desk. Anyone here could, uh, play a joke on someone."
"Good question, Mr. Jones, Mr. Munoz, would you care to hazard a guess?" Race asked quietly. A tall man, Munoz looked into the officer's eyes.
"Fingerprints, Sir? Or by scent….you could trace it back, Sir."
The coolness of his voice caught Rick's attention, and he exchanged glances with his brother. "Something tells me he doesn't think he'll be caught…" A.J. muttered.
"Guess again." Rick returned with a smirk.
"Good ideas, Mr. Munoz…but in this day and age we have more advanced techniques. Mr. Simon, could you dim the lights, please."
Ricky went to the front of the room and flicked off all but the rear lights, then Sgt Race produced a set of goggles from his pocket, and walked back to Ricky's desk.
There shining in the semidarkness were four sets of purple fingerprints, matching the same color on the hands of Munoz and Jones.
"What the…" the cadets on either side of the men stared at them, then moved away from them. Race turned and walked back to the two men.
"Gentlemen, it looks like you were caught..purple handed. Would you care to explain?"
"It was just a joke, sir….Simon's had an easy ride of it and all..so .." Jones began, only for Munoz to snap, "Shut it, man…he has nothing on us."
"Oh, I think we do, Mr. Jones…I'm sure Simon will be pressing charges…attempted assault and criminal harassment for starters. We have both of your fingerprints on file, gentlemen, and when we compare them…" the older man added.
At that, the shorter cadet interrupted him. "It wasn't anything personal, sir…the note said if we got Simon and his sister to quit, there was money in it for us."
"Shut up, Jones….no one likes a snitch!" Munoz snarled, then Race moved quickly to grab the taller man and handcuff him.
"That's enough threats, Munoz….you just earned a trip to jail. Mr. Jones, would you care to avoid the same?" he warned. Rick and A.J. exited the surveillance room at that and came out into the corridor in time to watch a sullen Munoz escorted down the hall by two deputies. Ron was waiting for them, a worried look on his face.
"I just got a blow by blow in my office of what's been going on….I'm sorry, guys. I never thought there would be any danger to Ricky and Ceci."
"Not your fault, pal. This just felt too much to be just guys being guys." Rick assured him, seeing Munoz's accomplice talking animatedly to Sgt Race as another deputy stood by.
"Maybe so, but I want to take a look at those two guys' records…see who might have hired them to take out the kids." Ron told him.
As they started to leave, Ricky and the other cadets came out of the room, and the two brothers heard quiet apologies being made.
"Sorry, about that, Simon..shouldn't have listened to gossip…."
"We …I was wrong, man…hope you'll let me buy you a drink…"
A.J. swelled with pride when he heard his son calmly reply, "Sure, Mark…I'd like to hear more about the rifle course. Ben…it's cool…after class tomorrow maybe."
"Well, that's promising." Rick murmured, heading for the station.
Once in their friend's office, Rick and A.J. found a hornet's nest of issues when Ron pulled the files of Munoz and Jones.
"You've got to be kidding me, the D.A.'s son? And that guy for Channel 10, his nephew?" Ron was shaking his head as his former assistant, Don Nixon reviewed their applications.
"Sorry, pal….looks like those two have connections…so why would they be willing to accept bucks to make the kids quit?" Nixon asked. Rick frowned as A.J. said, "I hope Jones spills before they lawyer up. Otherwise I'm going to have Ceci and Ricky drop out."
"I'm afraid I'd have to agree, guys…it could get messy if either of these two decide to fight the charges." Ron mused glumly.
"Wait a minute, Ron…" Nixon looked up from the file he was holding. "Did either of you handle any cases involving Anthony DiMarco?"
"Anthony DiMarco….the gambler? Don't think so …." A.J. answered, as Rick shook his head. "Why, does he have ties to these jerks?"
"He's Andrew Jones' grandfather, listed as a reference in both Jones and Munoz's applications. I was thinking he might have a bone to pick with you if you'd busted him for something…" Nixon began, only for Ron to interrupt him.
"I busted him years ago for illegal gambling…he went to jail for a couple of years before he turned state's evidence and cleaned up his image."
"What would he have to gain by being involved in any of this….does he have a kid in the academy?" Rick wondered.
"Why don't you ask me?"
Standing in the doorway of the office was a silver haired man, dressed in a designer suit. He came forward as Ron stood up from his desk.
"Mr. DiMarco?"