“Have we got a visual on the vehicle?”

S2, their jogger, comes through with a visual. “Solo driver occupant. Coming around the corner now.”

“This is S1, has CP got a make on arriving vehicle?” Dewey, ever alert.

“This is S5, I have a brown Valiant pulling up at the target building, over.” Trust the sniper on the roof to get a make.

“Acknowledged, S5, stand by.”

Bell has been watching everything, listening to everything. He knows he’ll never get such insight on field undercover work again, unless he goes in that direction after his training. He’s impressed and reassured by the level of professionalism among the men on the ground. It makes him feel like they have a real chance today, but he can tell from Emma’s face that she doesn’t want to believe it.

He indicates with his chin and rolls his swivel chair away, so they can talk in low whispers without disturbing Medhurst.

“Question.”

“What?” Emma’s standing, like her legs are restless.

“What will you do to celebrate, when this is over?”

He kind of expected the glare from her, flaring hot. He’s not expecting her to press her fingers to his lips to shut him up.

“Don’t say it,” she hisses.

He moves her hand aside. “Are we not allowed to hope now?”

“Hope. But be sensible.”

Then he realizes he’s still holding her hand, and it’s trembling. This case has taken its toll on them both, but he hates the effect it’s had on her. “What do you think will happen? If they nail him?”

When he releases her, she leans back against the wall. “I don’t know. Cooper will probably get a promotion. Every teenager in Virginia will let out a big goddamn sigh of relief.”

“And then we go back to our regular lives,” he muses.

“Yep. Just our regular old teen serial killer interviews.” She closes her eyes, opens them. “And I’ll feel happy.”

“You will, huh?” His lips are still tingling from her fingers.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You think so? Hard girl to please.”

That coaxes a smile out. “You know it.”

And for a moment, it’s perfect, just the two of them. Just a guy who wants to go into law enforcement, and a smart girl with a beautiful smile. Emma looks down and kicks her heel against the base of the wall, opens her mouth to say something else.

“Break, break, this is CP1, all teams, we have a party exiting a brown Valiant and approaching the target building, possible sighting of suspect, over.”

“Listen up, guys,” Medhurst calls. “We might have something.”

Surveillance is like this, too: a sudden rush of adrenaline and the promise of action.

Cooper leans over the tiny desk. “CP1 to S5, what is the status of the party, over.”

“S5 to CP, I have a visual on a white male, five and a half feet, beige trousers and white shirt, walking toward the building entrance, break—”