“Here’s the really weird thing though. I Googled Samson Shugert and a few articles from the mid-nineties came up, old newspaper articles. He had a number of incidents where he was caught stalking well-known high school athletes and when he would meet up with them, he would try to jump over their backs for some strange reason. Because of that, the media nicknamed him The LeapFrog Bandit.”
“Are you making this up?”
“I swear to God, it’s all here. I guess they could never prove any criminal intent with it, so he kept just getting arrested, but never charged with anything and he went up and down the Midwest doing it, getting in trouble in different states. According to the articles, it looked like he started in Pennsylvania, went to Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and the last few were in Wisconsin.”
I let it sink in for a few moments.
“Holy shit, the LeapFrog Bandit was in your state and you never figured it was him doing this?”
“I’ve never even heard of this freak.”
“But Christopher, or Samson, or whatever, this is your guy Peter and he chose that Bryce kid I stalked a few nights ago as his next daylight saving. He hired me to scout him out.”
I let Peter simmer for a few moments until he decided to break the silence.
“I need you to do something for me. Find any kind of social media you can for that Bryce kid. We need to find out exactly where he might be right now.”
Peter and I looked at the clock in his car at the exact same time. It was 2:09 a.m.
“We might already be too late.”
I was able to search and find an Instagram for Bryce fairly easily and thankfully he posted a picture just 20 minutes ago.
“He’s at some kind of bonfire. At least he was twenty minutes ago.”
Peter whipped the car around in an intersection.
“That’s right, it’s homecoming. He’s probably still there.”
“He’s dressed as a baby.”
“Fucking Halloween,” Peter seethed and mashed down the gas.