“Ryan,” Ryan corrected her.
“Right. Ryan’s apartment doesn’t have a kitchen.”
“I have a mini fridge and a toaster oven. That’s all I need. It’s just a room to crash in from time to time.”
She rolled her eyes before continuing, “If I would’ve known, we could’ve booked a hotel room.”
“A hotel room with a full-size kitchen?” Tyler asked.
She pulled a bag of flour out of the cupboard. “Not necessary. I’ve been known to take over the kitchens in hotels. As long as I’m out of the way for their dinner rush, I’ve never had an issue.”
Ryan rubbed a hand across his forehead, seeming to attempt to rub the stress lines away. I looked at Tyler who had an eyebrow raised as he watched Tweedle-Dee pull bowls and preheat the oven like she owned the place.
My laptop beeped. I jogged over to hit the icon for the incoming call. “I’m here, Bridget.”
“Trigger just texted me that our guy is on the move. Figured you’d want to know.”
“Are you in position?”
Tyler, Ryan, and Ryan’s wife moved over to the dining room table and looked over my shoulder.
“Holy, hell. Is that you, Tweedle?” Bridget asked.
“Bridget! I was so excited to come visit for the tournament. I’m baking at Ms. Harrison’s house. Can you come over?”
“Kind of busy at the moment, but if all goes well in the next twenty minutes I’ll be home for the weekend festivities.”
“What are you working on?” Tweedle asked.
“Babe,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “They’re in the middle of an op. Let Kelsey and Bridget work.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her back from the laptop so I could sit in front of the screen.
“It’s all good, Ryan, but I do need to focus,” Bridget said before looking at me. “I’m turning on the body cam.”
The screen went black, then bluish-grey. Tyler reached past me and adjusted the settings to brighten the images.
“I’ve got visual. What’s the plan?” I asked.
“There are three points of entry: front door, back door, and an oversized ventilation duct on the roof. He’ll enter through the roof. I’m on the next roof over.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’ve got cops down the road ready to move in, but I’m not wrong.”
“We know he’s armed. I don’t want you taking any risks.”
“No worries. Trigger and I rigged the ventilation shaft. When he goes in, he’ll drop down about ten feet, coming face-to-face with the night vision camera I installed earlier and the new security bars that will prevent him from getting into the store. Before he has a chance to backtrack I’ll drop the top hatch, trapping him inside. If he doesn’t want to die of starvation in there, he’ll have to turn himself in peacefully. Hang on. Trigger’s texting.”
I picked up my phone and read the text that he sent both of us: Suspect parked two blocks away. Moving in by foot. I’m disabling the car as a backup plan.
Bridget texted back: Ye of little faith. When are you going to learn, grasshopper? My plans don’t fail.
Ryan and Tyler laughed, reading over my shoulder.
“Should I call Bones?” Ryan asked.
“No!” Bridget, Tyler, Tweedle, and I answered together.
I looked up at Tweedle, and she winked at me.
Tweedle patted Ryan’s arm. “Reel, Bones would just worry. Let Bridget do her thing.”
“Fine.” Ryan ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it. “But call me Ryan here. We talked about this.” He wrapped his other arm around her as they leaned closer to the monitor.
Bridget tapped twice on her earpiece, getting my attention without speaking.
“I see him, Bridget. North fire escape. Man, he’s quick.”
“And quiet.” Ryan nodded. “We can hear cars in the distance, but he just climbed an old two-story fire escape without making any noise. That isn’t easy.”
“It helps that he’s only five foot two inches and weighs less than a buck twenty.” I handed Ryan the file on the suspect.
“Aww,” Tweedle said. “He’s just a little guy.”
“Who’s suspected of killing two people and robbing seventeen jewelry stores,” Ryan said as he dropped the file back on the table. “This guy likes knives, Bridget. Keep your distance when you move in to trap him.”
Bridget tapped twice on her earpiece. With his back facing Bridget, the suspect soundlessly removed the top cover of the ventilation shaft. On her body cam we watched Bridget creep toward the other roof. As soon as he dropped into the shaft, she leapt the short distance between roofs, running to the nearby air conditioner. She dragged a metal grate out of hiding and dropped it over the hole. Standing on the edge of the grate, she kept it weighted while she pulled a battery-operated wrench from her utility belt and bolted the grate down.
A hand flashed out between the bars, swiping a knife toward Bridget’s foot. She managed to jump clear of the knife, and when it swiped out again she stomped on his wrist, pinning it to the rooftop so she could peel the knife from his hand.
“He’s likely to have a gun, Bridget,” I reminded her.
She stepped back out of the perp’s view and called the cops.
“That’s it? It’s all over?” Ryan asked.
I high fived with Tyler. “That’s it. Game over.”
Bridget squealed in excitement. We watched her body cam bop side to side.
“What’s she doing?” Tweedle asked, pointing to the monitor.
Tyler laughed. “Her victory dance.”
“What’s the pay on a job like this?” Ryan asked.
“This was a reward gig,” I said. “The company posted a three-hundred grand reward to whoever caught the thief terrorizing their jewelry stores.”
“Shit,” Tweedle cursed. “I’m in the wrong business.”
Ryan shook his head at her before turning back to me. “How long did this op run?”
“Start to finish, three and a half days, including our research time.
