Page 67 of Concealed

All the tech people are on the opposite side of the room with their complicated, humming machines, and I join Grant, making sure to stay out of their way.

“You need a day off,” Grant says.

I laugh. “Do I look that bad?”

Grant rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Well, Iamgetting sick of your face.”

“Will that be in my performance review?”

“If you keep it up, it will be,” he threatens. “It’s nothing to do with how you look, rookie boy. You don’t stop. I’m starting to wonder if you’re a machine.”

“I’m taking tomorrow off, no exceptions.”

No matter what happens tonight, I’m going to head home, sleep for a few hours, and then spend the day with Rebecca. I need to prove to her – and maybe to myself – that I can take time off and find balance in my life.

It’s not an ideal time in the proceedings to take a break, but there is never an ideal time for a cop. Time management will only get worse when I make detective and have my own cases.

Since there will never be a natural stopping point, I’ll just have to force them often enough to keep my girl happy and my life sane.

Unfortunately, there will always be another monster to lock away whether I go to sleep, take a vacation, or chain myself to a squad car.

And life just needs to be enjoyed sometimes with everything else turned off.

“Quiet!” Ursula shouts. She works for the state and is generally a pain in the ass. “We’re about to get rolling.”

I mime zipping my lips, and the familiar rush of adrenaline that I love so fucking much starts making its way through my body. I live for this stuff. I love good solid police work, I love the chase, and I really love the takedowns.

Something is going to happen tonight.

There’s an electric buzz in the air, and we have a whole lot of amped-up cops crammed into this small space. And if it doesn’t happen, we’ll all temporarily crash and then pick right back up where we left off on our next shift.

But the desire to win never shuts off.

Dean is sitting on the makeshift bed with a laptop on her thighs, looking exactly like the high schooler she’s pretending to be. We can see what she’s typing on the monitor by way of a projector screen, and she’s being coached by the state police through a tiny, undetectable microphone in her ear.

She’s been talking to Mustang99 for the last few weeks, pretending to be a fifteen year old grade ten girl named Amber. According to Mustang99, he’s seventeen, but our intel suggests he’s a lot older and has much more sinister motives than a clumsy high school hook-up.

Mustang99:Hey baby. I missed you.

AmbC:Missed u 2!

Mustang99:Turn your cam on.

AmbC’s webcam is now showing video.

Mustang99:Damn, you’re so pretty. Is tonight really the night that we finally get to meet?

AmbC:I dunno…

Mustang99:You said your mom isn’t home.

AmbC:She’s never home. She’s always out. She doesn’t give a shit about me.

Mustang99:I do, though. I really like you.

AmbC:I don’t want the neighbors 2 c.

Mustang99:We’ll go somewhere. Do you like gelato?

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