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It was a brisk and overcast day, making the local news weatherwoman right for a change. If her prediction held out, at least they wouldn’t have to contend with drizzle or any white stuff.
“How are you holding up?” Trent asked as he drove.
They were about ten minutes out in his Jeep Wrangler. They were dressed as hikers and posted to a parking lot a half mile from the playground.
“Are you looking for the truth or some bullshit?”
He looked over at her, his black eye looking worse than yesterday, and took a turn down the road for the park entrance. “Always the truth.”
“Scared, worried, freaking out that if something can go wrong it will.” That about covered her emotions relating to the money drop. She was also still contending with guilt about kissing Trent yesterday. Nothing like a fresh day to intensify one’s regrets.
“At least you are holding on to a positive outlook.” He laughed, and given how easy it came and went, it told her his nerves were frayed too.
“You’re feeling the same as me. Admit it.”
“You know it. I’m not sure we’d be good at our jobs if we didn’t consider possible outcomes.”
“And after you gave me a hard time?” She sarcastically mocked him and smiled.
“They say you preach what you most need to hear.”
She nodded. “Valid point.”
“Besides, you think positively, you manifest positive outcomes.”
“I think there’s a lot more to it than that.” Logan was a big believer in the law of attraction, mantras, affirmations, and while she’d like to give herself over, life’s bitter hits made that difficult. If all a good outcome required was positive thinking and prayers, her husband and daughter would still be alive. Same too for her unborn baby, and she would still be able to have children.
“Well, here we are.” Trent turned into the lot, and they settled in for the wait.
They each wore an earpiece tuned to the same frequency as the other members of the PWCPD on this mission. It rankled Amanda that she wouldn’t have a front-row seat to the drop or pickup. The latter might not even happen for hours, and today had the potential of being a long one.
They were allowed out of the vehicle but had been encouraged to stay put in case the perp parked in their lot. The last time she was part of a sting was back when she wore a uniform, but the experience had stuck with her. It was why she’d brought snacks and some water.
The earpiece crackled to life with the voice of Officer Bennett. “Going in now.”
“Acknowledged.” This came from the detective leading the operation.
Trent turned to her. “It’s getting real.”
She let out a steady breath. Real began for her when she felt the weight of that cash. It wasn’t money she had earned but had come into because of tragedy. But the fact she could use it as a tool to save a life despite that made it the right thing to do.
Each minute that followed progressed in slow motion. Sporadic updates fired in, like little missives connecting them to the action unfolding about a mile away. The money had been dropped, and everyone was in position watching the garbage can.
A couple of civilians were cleared from the playground area and asked to leave the park. Only undercover and camouflaged PWCPD officers remained.
“We should have brought coffee,” Trent said when the clock on the dash read ten after ten.
“No coffee. Worst thing when you’re just sitting around. It’s a diuretic. You don’t want to be peeing in a bush when it’s time to chase down a suspect. Because trust me, the timing rarely works in your favor.”
“That pesky call of nature never gets it right.”
“There’s someone moving in on the garbage can. Over.” An officer’s voice traveled through the earpiece.
“Describe? Alone?” This came from Detective Greenway.
“Alone. Small build, wearing a winter coat and balaclava.”
“You said small build?”
