Chapter 29
Jack's phone rang, with the hospital’s main number displayed on the screen. He answered before the second ring, his stomach already tightening with dread.
“Detective Hudson,” he said, standing up from his desk.
“Detective, this is Dr. Patel from the Eastern Shore Medical Center. I'm calling about Terrance Bogdin, the student who was brought in by ambulance earlier today.”
Jack's hand tightened on the phone, then he put the doctor on speaker so Mark could hear. “I have you on speaker so my partner can hear. How is he?”
“Stable, but we're admitting him for observation.
Detective, his blood work came back, and I need to inform you that we found evidence of performance-enhancing drugs in his system.
Anabolic steroids, to be specific. Given his age and the circumstances, I'm required to report this to law enforcement as potential distribution to a minor, and was told you are one of the detectives working a case that might be relevant.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Jack said, his voice steady even though his pulse was hammering. “I'll need copies of his medical records and the toxicology report, as we have an active investigation.”
“Of course. I'll have my staff send everything over within the hour.”
Jack hung up, looking over at Mark, seeing the hard expression on his face. They immediately headed to Colt's office. His dad was on the phone, but when he saw Jack's expression, he quickly wrapped up the call.
“Terrance Bogdin?” Colt asked.
“The hospital confirmed PED involvement. We need to move now.”
Colt's jaw tightened. “Move the case to top priority on the roster. I want this done right and done fast.”
Within twenty minutes, Jack and Mark were in the conference room, whiteboards out, case files spread across the table. The urgency that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks now burned hot and immediate.
“We need to loop in everyone who might have information,” Mark said. “School administration first, then child protective protocols.”
Jack nodded and made the call to Principal Martine. She answered on the first ring, her voice tight.
“We need to coordinate with your staff,” Jack said. “Anyone who might have seen something, heard something, or noticed changes in student behavior. Can you have your administrators available for interviews this afternoon?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” She paused. “Detective, how many students are we talking about?”
“We don't know yet,” Jack admitted. “But since he was a wrestler, we need to start with the other team members and the coach.”
The next call was to Deputy Perkins from the school’s resource officer division. “Students are talking,” she said when Jack got her on the line. He hit the speaker.
“They're scared. A lot of rumors are flying around, but with teenagers, sometimes it's hard to discern what's real and what's embellished.”
“We need the real,” Jack said. “Anything concrete. Any names, any specifics about who knows anything.”
“I'll push harder,” Deputy Perkins promised. “But Jack, once pushed, some of these kids don't want to get their friends in trouble. It's going to take time to get them to open up.”
Mark looked over, then added, “We want to talk to the wrestling team. They’re the ones closest to Terrance. If other kids are taking this stuff, they could be next.”
Deputy Perkins said, “I'll work with the administration to get you access.”
Jack hung up and turned back to Mark, who said he was calling the DEA liaison to follow up on the pill analysis. When Mark ended the call, his expression was grim but focused.
“Good news and bad news,” Mark said. “The manufacturer only distributes to one regional supplier.”
“Where?” Jack asked.
“Baltimore.”
Jack nodded. Baltimore. A distribution ring operating out of a major city, funneling illegal substances down to smaller communities like Baytown, where oversight was less stringent, and demand was high among desperate athletes.
“We need to coordinate with Baltimore PD,” Jack said, already reaching for his phone.
Mark was ahead of him, pulling up contact information for the Baltimore Police Department's narcotics division. “I’ve got this. I’ve worked with them before.” Twenty minutes later, they had Detective Morales on a conference call, his voice crackling through the speakerphone.
“We've been tracking a distribution ring for the past six months,” Detective Morales said. “Anabolic steroids, HGH, other performance enhancers. They've been moving product mostly to gyms and sports clubs. We’ve found they’ve infiltrated a few colleges in the area.”
“Any idea who might have it down here on the Eastern Shore?” Mark asked.
“Not specifically,” Detective Morales replied. “But if you’ve got national chains or individually owned fitness centers or gyms, then you’ve got a possibility. I’ll keep checking up here for more information, but if I were you, that’s where I’d start.”
Jack looked at Mark, and he could see his own realization reflected in his partner's face. Martin Bogdin. The connection clicked into place with sickening clarity.
“What do we know about Martin Bogdin?” Jack asked Mark. Then, to Detective Morales, he quickly asked, “Do any of your informants or investigations lead to Bogdin’s Fitness Center in North Heron County, Virginia?”
“Jesus…” Mark grumbled, already pulling up search databases on his laptop.
“Everyone in the area goes to his fitness center. Hell, most of the law enforcement are members there. This is a fucking nightmare if he’s been giving his own son enhancement drugs.
” He was typing fast, his fingers flying across the keyboard.
“Hang on. Running him through our system now.”
The results populated on the screen. Martin Bogdin, age forty-seven.
Owner of Bogdin's Fitness Center on Route 13, just outside of Baytown.
Former wrestler. No criminal record, no complaints about his business.
Even his ratings were mostly high, with just a few low ones, something any business had to deal with.
The scope of it hit Jack all at once. Possibly a father pushing his son to succeed. A gym owner with connections to illegal suppliers. A distribution network that preyed on kids desperate for scholarships, for validation, for a way out of small-town life.
And Terrance was caught in the middle of it all. Taking pills that maybe his own father gave him, believing they were legal, believing they would help him achieve his dreams. Until his body couldn't take it anymore, and he collapsed in a high school hallway.
“Detective Morales,” Jack said, his voice tight with controlled fury, “we need everything you might have on Martin Bogdin. He runs Bogdin’s Fitness and Gym in North Heron County, here in Virginia.
If you have anything that shows he may have been part of a pipeline of performance enhancement drugs, we’ll take it. ”
“I'll talk to my people and see if we have anything,” Morales promised.
“Appreciate it,” Mark said.
When the call ended, Jack stood and walked to the window, staring out at the afternoon sun slanting across the parking lot. His reflection stared back at him… jaw tight, eyes hard, shoulders rigid with tension.
He hated that it had taken a kid collapsing to break this case open. Hated that Terrance had to be in a hospital bed for them to get the final piece they needed. Hated that they'd been so close but not quite fast enough.
“We need to get to the hospital, Jack, so we can talk to Martin. That’s where he’ll be,” Mark said. “The connection is a real possibility. Gym owner, former wrestler, son on the team.”
“What if it wasn’t him? I mean, not just him. What if Terrance was the one bringing the drugs in and giving them to other students? What if someone else was in this fucking mess?”
Jack felt some of the pieces of the investigation fitting together, but there were too many unanswered questions.
Martin Bogdin had means… a possible connection to a Baltimore distribution ring focusing on fitness centers.
He had a motive… his son's scholarship. And he had opportunity… possibly the locker room and the team. Maybe, as Terrance’s dad, others would consider him trustworthy.
But something still held Jack back. Something didn’t feel like they had all the pieces of the puzzle.
“We need to move on this now,” Jack said.
Mark nodded. “We can work on getting a warrant prepared to search his fitness center. You talk to Colt, make sure we've got backup and a solid plan.”
Jack headed back to Colt's office, his mind already running through logistics.
They'd need to time the arrest carefully.
Needed to make sure they had enough evidence to make charges stick.
Needed to protect the kids who'd been taking the steroids, get them medical help before there were more emergencies.
Colt listened to Jack's rundown, his expression growing darker with each detail. When Jack finished, Colt stood and walked to his office window, hands clasped behind his back.
Colt said quietly, “A gym owner possibly distributing to minors. He’s active in the community. Part of the American Legion. Sponsors high school athletics. His own son in the hospital. This isn't just a criminal case, Jack. This is going to hit the community.”
“I know.” Jack nodded, the weight of it settling on his shoulders.
This was about protecting an entire community of kids who'd been manipulated and lied to. Kids who thought they were doing what they needed to do to succeed, only to find out they'd been used. “We don’t know it was Martin, but it’s a credible possibility.”
“Keep working it,” Colt said.
“Mark and I are heading to the hospital. We’ll keep you informed.” With a nod, he headed back to the bullpen to get his partner.
The hospital room was on the third floor, a private space with beige walls and the sterile smell of antiseptic. Terrance Bogdin lay in the bed, hooked up to monitors that beeped steadily, an IV line running into his arm. He was awake but groggy, his eyes half-closed, his skin still sickly pale.
Martin and Charlotte Bogdin sat in the chairs beside the bed.
Charlotte held Terrance’s hand while Martin’s shoulders were hunched and his hands clasped between his knees.
He looked up when Jack and Mark entered, and his expression immediately shifted to surprise. “Jack? Mark? What are you doing here?”
“Mr. Bogdin, we need to ask you some questions about what happened to Terrance.”
“He collapsed at school. That's what happened.” Martin stood, crossing his arms over his chest. “The doctors are running tests. They’ve said he had some substances in him, but I’m telling you, my boy would never take drugs. He believes in his body too much.”
“The doctors have informed us,” Mark said quietly. “The toxicology report came back. Terrance had anabolic steroids in his system.”
Martin's face went pale, then flushed red. “That's impossible. My boy wouldn't—”
“Mr. Bogdin.” Jack interrupted, his voice hardening.
“We need to know if you have any information. We know there is a link between a pharmaceutical company operating illegally out of Baltimore that has a contact down here. And fitness centers were mentioned. You have the only fitness center in this county.”
Charlotte gasped, and Martin's jaw clenched. He looked at Terrance, still barely conscious in the hospital bed, then back at Jack.
“We can step outside if that’s better for you,” Jack suggested.
Martin nodded and followed Jack and Mark into the hall.
Once at the small lounge that was empty, Martin sucked in a deep breath, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Terrance is a good athlete. Good enough wrestler for a full-ride scholarship. That was his future. I wanted him to be the best possible.”
“By giving him illegal drugs?” Jack's voice was cold.
Martin jerked, and his eyes narrowed. “I never gave him anything but vitamins and watched his diet. We worked with a private trainer who came over from Virginia Beach once a week, and followed his regimen,” Martin bit out.
His eyes darted between Jack and Mark, desperation creeping into his voice.
“If there were steroids in my son, he didn't get them from me.”
“Who else can you think would be involved?” Mark asked. “One of the wrestlers? One of the coaches?”
Martin's jaw tightened. For a long moment, he didn't say anything.
Then his shoulders sagged slightly. “I trusted the coaches with my son. David talked about Terrance being one of the best in the state.” Martin's hands were shaking now.
“I was a state wrestler back in my day, and it opened doors for me.”
“Just to let you know, we’re obtaining a search warrant on your fitness center,” Jack began.
“Go ahead. I have nothing to hide. I would never do what you’re suggesting.” Martin's face twisted with anguish. “He's my son. I just wanted him to have a future.”
Jack and Mark exchanged a glance before leaving the lounge. As they left the hospital, Jack hoped Terrance would still have a chance at a future, and that the steroids hadn’t taken away his chance to live a long, full life.