Donuts and Handcuffs

Fabulous. I just happened to stumble into the lair of another low life criminal family.

My guts confirmed my decision before my mind ran everything through several times. Just a little evidence. Just enough to make the police take note, and allow them to get search warrants.

I knew their processes had to be thorough, but that often meant slow. I wasn’t going to let this guy get away with it, and I wasn’t going to let him strike again.

It shouldn’t be this easy for me. I shouldn’t already have an all-black wardrobe, snug black face scarf, amber tinted sunglasses that reflected light back into camera lenses, super-thin gloves, and lock picks in a secret chamber under my bed. I shouldn’t instinctively know how to turn my head away when approaching security cameras, and always spot them, know their range, and know how to disable them.

It’s not right, and I hated it. I detested this part of myself, but tried desperately to console myself with the knowledge that lives were at stake. This was not for personal gain. Morally, I was in the clear, even if the law itself would disagree.

Surveillance of an evil person to potentially save lives was very, extremely, monumentally different than stealing property, I told myself yet again as I casually walked briskly down a back alley. Even if I was stealing information, it was really only borrowing. Copying emails and footage and placing them in the hands of the police. Nothing would be missing.

I already knew where every camera would be, my hood turned and tipped carefully at all times. Hopefully I was small enough that I looked like any teenager in a black hoodie, off to have a smoke where their mom couldn’t find them.

I truly loved the city at night. Dark, damp concrete had a slightly different gritty scent that was always strangely comforting. In the back alley, a bit of oil in a puddle spun rainbows as I walked around it.

My heart was in my throat, but knowing all of the steps inside and out made the actual process simple.

Side door, old building, no alarm. Picked the lock in under fifteen seconds. Already knew the office location from building plans. Picked the office lock in under ten seconds – cheap replacement door handle that seemed an afterthought. The laptop password was on a sticky note in the top drawer. Downloaded all files containing “Robotham” or “Condo Development”. Found emails from other family members so I had several addresses, and plenty of incriminating conversations..

Checked old fashioned day planner on the desk – meeting with his brothers in two days here at their building.

Left the office in under ten minutes. One of the many rules was to never get comfortable, ever. Relocked the office door, skulked down the hall to the back door. Waited. Listened.

There was a big, older engine rumbling outside. It was bizarre that somehow I knew that the motor was running roughly because the timing was off. Likely a work van. One of my many uncles was a mechanic, but I didn’t realize how much I must have accidentally picked up.

I paused. Heavy boots going into the front door of the building. Must have been two men. Cracking the back door, I looked out to see a dark van at the top of the alley, opposite from where I wanted to go. My exit was clear, but I needed to listen. I waited until I heard the men making noise as they entered, slipping out just when they wouldn’t hear the soft click of the back door, which thankfully locked automatically.

All I had to do is stay low until I was at the other end of the alley, then walk home. I’d done it. Everything had gone perfectly. And I was shaking so hard now that I couldn’t possibly do it again correctly. I had somehow pushed the adrenaline rush away, but now that it was hitting me, I was a trembling mess.

Slowing my breathing, I stayed low, moving slowly down the long alley. I didn’t have to panic. It was over. I even felt a tiny smile touch my lips before I looked up and saw a police officer coming toward me. I’m not sure whether I felt better or worse about the fact that I knew him.

CHAPTER NINE

The small figure skulking in the rain was nearly invisible, pressed against the dirty concrete wall. Then they crouched slightly, and I noticed they flinched when they put a bit of pressure on their left arm.

I didn’t think I made a sound, yet she spun to face me.

“Bailey?” I whispered. She was acting strange, and I didn’t want to startle her.

She held a finger to her lips, waving me back toward a huge garbage bin that was in an alcove. I don’t know why I obeyed her command immediately, then let her pull me into the corner. I turned so that my back was against the wall.

“Are the reflective stripes on my jacket out of sight?” I breathed.

She nodded. Her eyes were tight, super focused.

“We really have to stop meeting in doorways and alleys in the rain,” I whispered.

She instantly unclenched, grinning, tipping her chin up to mine. “You were very sweet to me that day.”

“I almost wasn’t. I almost kissed you.” I couldn’t believe I was confessing this, but it just tumbled out.

“Officer Hill,” she whispered through her grin, “That would have been wildly inappropriate.”

“It was unbelievably hard to control myself,” I murmured into her ear, holding her so close our hearts were nearly beating together. “For half a second, I didn’t know if I could.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” she said, suddenly shy. “But, well, you’re such a big tough guy that you made me a bit nervous at first.”

“I know. I worry about that.” I held still as a stone, then murmured, “I’ll never let anyone hurt you, Bailey. Not ever.”