“I already checked the camera network.
Nothing useful came back.” Mouse shook his head and stopped typing for a moment, clearly frustrated that Chicago’s city surveillance feeds had produced no usable image of Sara Fraser.
Even with the amount of technology available to the department, a missing person could still disappear between cameras.
Hank Voight strode toward the case board and looked over the photographs, credit-card records, and reports Intelligence had collected.
“All right, guys.
What do we actually have?” Antonio Dawson picked up one of the reports and began giving him the latest summary.
“The man downstairs is Jeff Fraser, forty-four years old, from Ankeny, Iowa,” Antonio said.
“No criminal history and nothing in his background that explains what happened downstairs.
His daughter, Sara Fraser, disappeared back in July.” Adam Ruzek added another page to the board while Antonio continued.
“Her car was found near railroad property three days after she disappeared, but there’s no record she ever bought a train ticket.” That made the location of the abandoned car suspicious rather than evidence that Sara had voluntarily left town.
Mouse glanced back toward his monitor.
“I’ve also got the credit-card statement.” He tapped the screen and said, “Sara’s emergency card wasn’t used for almost three months, then last week somebody suddenly used it to buy five televisions.” Hank frowned.
“Five?” “Same transaction,” Mouse confirmed.
“Small electronics store outside the city.” At that moment, Adrian Knight walked back into Intelligence after finishing a follow-up administrative interview connected to the recent officer-involved shooting in the park.
Adam greeted him with a quick handshake and shoulder bump before asking, “You surviving all the paperwork?” Adrian sighed and replied, “Apparently firing a gun takes less time than explaining why you fired it.” Hank looked toward him.
“You good?” “As always,” Adrian replied.
Hank gave a short nod and turned toward Antonio.
“Go check out that television purchase.” He gestured toward Adrian and added, “Take him with you.
He needs something more interesting than another interview room.” Antonio slapped Adrian lightly on the shoulder as he headed toward the stairs.
“Come on.” Adrian followed without complaint, more than happy to trade paperwork for an actual lead.
A short time later, the two detectives arrived at the electronics store where Sara’s card had been used.
The owner explained that sales had been weaker the previous year, so he had upgraded the store’s security-camera system.
“If the guy came through here, we should have him on video.” The owner pulled up the footage while Adrian and Antonio stood behind the counter.
On the screen, a stocky man could clearly be seen purchasing several boxed televisions and arranging for them to be taken outside.
Adrian watched the footage for only a few seconds before his newly acquired perception skill began drawing his attention toward details that would previously have been easy to overlook.
“Stop there,” Adrian said.
The owner paused the recording.
Adrian looked at the timestamp.
“One fifty-three in the afternoon.
That’s the transaction.” Antonio studied the customer for a moment before turning toward the store owner.
“Who was working that register?” The owner stood and looked across the sales floor.
“Randy!” A man wearing a blue short-sleeved work shirt walked over from another aisle.
“Yeah?” Antonio pointed toward the frozen surveillance image.
“You remember this customer?” Randy looked at the screen and shook his head.
“Not really.” Adrian kept watching the recording.
Something felt wrong.
His Microscopic: Perceive Criminal Detail skill seemed to sharpen the entire sequence.
Instead of simply seeing a customer buying televisions, Adrian noticed the register interaction, the employee’s hands, the amount of time spent processing the transaction, and what was noticeably missing.
He looked at Randy.
“Your boss said purchases over five hundred dollars require ID verification.” Randy’s expression changed slightly.
Adrian continued, “This sale was over three thousand.” Antonio immediately understood where he was going.
Adrian pointed toward the monitor.
“I don’t see you checking his ID.” Randy hesitated.
“We were busy.” Adrian stared at him.
“Too busy to check identification on a three-thousand-dollar transaction?” Randy shifted uncomfortably.
Adrian tapped the screen again.
“But you had enough time to personally walk outside and help him load the televisions.” “He needed help carrying them,” Randy replied quickly.
Antonio’s patience disappeared.
He stepped closer and said, “Enough.
Where do we find him?” Randy swallowed.
Antonio lowered his voice.
“We’re investigating a missing woman and stolen credit-card use.
If you know this guy and keep lying, you’re going to make yourself part of the problem.” Randy looked between the two detectives.
“Your choice,” Antonio added.
After another second, Randy gave up.
“All right.” He sighed.
“I know him.” Adrian waited.
“Oscar Mena,” Randy admitted.
“He’s a friend of mine.” That was enough to give Intelligence another address.
Not long afterward, Adrian and Antonio arrived at Oscar Mena’s neighborhood.
As they approached the house, the front door opened and a short, stocky bald man stepped outside.
Adrian compared him with the surveillance image and immediately recognized the face.
“Oscar Mena?” The man instinctively answered, “Yeah, that’s me.” Antonio moved forward and pushed him backward through the doorway.
“Inside.” Oscar stumbled and snapped, “Who the hell are you?” Adrian pulled out his badge.
“Chicago Police.” The anger disappeared from Oscar’s face almost instantly.
He raised both hands slightly and said, “Okay.
Easy.” Antonio kept one hand on Oscar’s shoulder and guided him farther inside.
A young woman was sitting nearby, and she looked up in confusion as the two detectives entered with Oscar.
“What’s going on?” Adrian showed his badge again.
“Stay seated.” She immediately sat back down.
Antonio pushed Oscar into another chair and glanced around the room.
Five new televisions were arranged together near one wall, still looking suspiciously fresh.
It didn’t take much imagination to connect them to the surveillance footage.
Adrian looked directly at Oscar.
“Where’s Sara?” Oscar froze.
Before he could answer, the woman beside him suddenly snapped, “Who the hell is Sara?” Oscar’s face immediately turned pale.
Adrian almost sighed.
Antonio pointed toward the televisions.
“Relax.
This isn’t about him cheating on you.” The woman stared at him.
Antonio continued, “Those televisions were bought with Sara Fraser’s stolen credit card.” Oscar immediately shook his head.
“No, no, no.” He leaned forward.
“I bought those myself.” “With what?” Adrian asked.
Oscar answered quickly, “My job.
I work at Jiffy Lube.” Antonio stared at him.
“I’m a shift manager,” Oscar added.
“I worked my ass off for those TVs.” His girlfriend slowly turned toward him.
Her expression was becoming dangerous again.
“You told me you got promoted,” she said.
Oscar looked at her.
“I did.” Antonio stepped in before their argument could go anywhere.
“Your friend Randy already told us you were the guy using the card.” Oscar stopped talking.
Antonio leaned closer.
“So where did you get it?” The girlfriend’s eyes widened.
“Wait.” She pointed toward Oscar.
“That card was stolen?” Oscar looked trapped.
“You told me we had extra money!” she shouted.
Adrian raised one hand.
“Everybody calm down.” The woman looked toward him.
Adrian continued, “Right now we’re trying to locate a missing woman.
That matters more than your relationship problem.” She immediately nodded.
“Fine.” Antonio looked back toward Oscar.
“Where did you get Sara Fraser’s card?” Oscar remained silent.
Antonio’s voice hardened.
“We don’t have time for this.” He gestured toward the house.
“You want us going through every room and every piece of property in here while we figure out what else you’ve been doing?” Oscar stared at him.
Adrian looked toward the girlfriend.
“And if you knowingly helped him use stolen property, you could end up answering questions too.” Her face changed instantly.
“No,” she said.
“Absolutely not.” She pointed toward Oscar.
“I’m not going to jail for him.” Oscar looked offended.
“Seriously?” “Yes, seriously,” she snapped.
“We’re done.” Adrian gave Oscar a dry look.
“That relationship collapsed fast.” Oscar covered his face with one hand.
After several seconds, he finally surrendered.
“Last week, Humboldt Park.” Antonio waited.
Oscar sighed.
“I broke into a car.” His girlfriend stared at him in disbelief.
“You actually stole from somebody?” Oscar ignored her.
“There was a wallet inside,” he continued.
“The credit card was in it.” The woman shook her head.
“You told me you earned that money.” Oscar looked miserable.
“I just wanted us to have something nice.” Adrian glanced toward the five televisions.
“So naturally you bought five TVs.” Oscar didn’t answer.
Antonio had absolutely no interest in Oscar’s financial logic.
“Where was the car?” Oscar finally gave them the location.
That was the only answer they needed.
Adrian and Antonio left Oscar behind and headed toward Humboldt Park, focusing on an area near West Ferdinand Street and Avers Avenue.
Patrol officers Kim Burgess and Sean Roman met them there to provide support and help search the block.
Kim pointed toward the curb.
“According to Oscar, the vehicle was parked somewhere around here.” Sean checked his notes.
“White SUV.” Antonio immediately pulled out his phone.
“I’ll have Mouse run white SUVs registered around this block and anything reported stolen.” He stepped aside to make the call.
Adrian remained near the curb and slowly looked around.
This time, he could genuinely feel the difference created by his new skill.
His eyes moved across the pavement, sidewalk, parked vehicles, gutters, and surrounding buildings.
Small things seemed to separate themselves from the background more easily than before, almost as though his attention automatically filtered out everything unimportant.
Then something caught the light near the curb.
Adrian crouched.
Several tiny pieces of glass were scattered across the pavement.
They were small enough that most people walking past would never have noticed them, but the shape and texture looked different from ordinary bottle glass.
Adrian reached closer without touching them and studied the fragments carefully.
Automotive glass.
His eyes narrowed.
Sara Fraser’s credit card had been stolen from a vehicle parked somewhere on this block.
Now Adrian had found broken car glass exactly where Oscar said the break-in happened.
Tiny details could look meaningless.
But sometimes, they were the clue that opened the entire case.
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