Cops and Robbers
By Jessica Krueger
Chapter Two
Chicago, IL
Present Day
The black-and-white video with less quality than a flip phone glitched again as the woman on the screen walked toward a tall display case. Raz had marked the anomaly in his memory the first time he watched the security footage. After the hundredth time, he had the rest memorized. He shifted in his office chair, remedying the cramp in his left leg.
A short, lithe woman wearing a baggy hoodie and tight jeans turned toward the pricey contents inside the case. The angle she chose kept her face hidden from the camera’s view. She grabbed a piece of paper out of her back jean pocket with a gloved hand, and with the other one, she removed the chewed bubblegum from her mouth. Using the gum, she stuck the paper to the display glass.
DNA analysis on the gum didn’t match anyone in their databases. Fingerprints had been nonexistent, and facial recognition was pointless because, just like this video, she always hid her face from the camera.
The woman was a ghost.
The Bubblegum Bandit, according to the tabloids.
She was a thief who had a knack for successfully robbing expensive items like Super Bowl rings and famous artwork. And she’d marked her next target—an art piece including a bra and panty set sequined with priceless jewels ranging from diamonds to rubies. The police linked her crimes to six different states, so it had become a matter for the FBI. And Raz had requested it. He and his team of dragon shifters had a more important need to find the Bubblegum Bandit than the theft of jewelry and art. A supernatural weapon had gotten into the wrong hands.
Raz had a feeling there might be a connection between this thief and an international criminal whom the CIA nicknamed Midnight. She was a woman who worked with a Japanese organized crime leader named Eiji Matsuda to steal something of demonic legend—Lucifer’s Bell. A weapon whose chime allowed demons to possess humans who heard it while rendering dragons utterly immobile—one that had destroyed Raz’s previous clanmates. A few months ago, he’d been so close to acquiring the weapon he’d been chasing for centuries, but then…
His stomach twinged from the wave of memory. Blood had seeped through the cracks in his fingers as he held pressure over the bullet hole in Lukas’s chest. Lukas had been Raz’s informant for years, so Raz was acquainted with the man’s wife—his daughter. He understood the dire circumstances that led Lukas into dangerous circles and into that black-market auction where the Bell was being sold. Raz had been there with his team to acquire it by any means necessary, but they weren’t the only ones.
During the chaos following Midnight’s barrage of bullets, she got away with both the weapon and the murder of Raz’s friend.
His fingers clenched around his computer mouse. The chances of two women who were highly skilled thieves were low, so it was more likely the Bubblegum Bandit and Midnight were the same person.
He glanced down at the sealed plastic bag on his desk. The orris and sugar-cookie scent that belonged to the Bubblegum Bandit permeated the air from the little evidence they had. That smell was a siren call to his dragon. His tongue tingled, salivating. He swallowed his gum’s mint flavor to drown it out.
Her scent was addictive, just as it was to stare at the simple lipstick stain on the paper they assumed was from her lips. A full bottom lip with a subtle upper lip that pillowed the soft-pink satin lipstick against the white cardstock.
Bitable lips.
You’re going insane. Despite the logic that this woman might be the same person who murdered his friend, his instincts disagreed, fighting him for some reason he couldn’t fathom. He hadn’t been close enough to sense Midnight that day. She’d been a blur of darkness, as her nickname suggested. But watching the Bubblegum Bandit on repeat was hypnotizing, as if she exuded pheromones that traveled through the camera feed and attracted not only him, but his other side. His dragon rumbled in his chest, wanting to chase.
Raz shoved the desire down and studied the report in front of him. The lipstick style and shade matched a large product-shipment delivery that had been stolen from RNA Boutique. Sakura Bloom had since become the best-selling lipstick internationally just because she stole it. The Bubblegum Bandit’s popularity was boundless. Authorities had tried to conceal the robberies, but after her third success, the national news ran with the story. Her MO of marking her targets with a lipstick print and bubblegum was too iconic to not grab people’s attention. And now, she was after her next target only mere days after the previous one. She’d never gone from one scene to the next so quickly, and he had a feeling he could catch her in a mistake this time.
A knock thudded at Raz’s door.
“You ready to go?” the Assistant Special Agent in Charge said, giving him an expectant look with her deep-set brown eyes. She’d slicked back her wiry curls into a tight bun, letting everyone in the office know she meant business.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Raz rubbed his hand over the bald spot near his crown. The still-tender skin throbbed where burning scaffolding had nearly killed him a month ago.
Regan frowned, eyes following the movement. “Don’t you dare take a risk like that again.”
“You should know me better by now. I’ll never leave someone behind.” He hadn’t thought twice when he ran into the burning building to rescue a fellow officer, knowing he was the only one around with advantages as a dragon shifter. He could fortify his limbs with the power of his dragon, making him stronger and move faster. It had been the difference between life and death for both of them.
Regan sighed and clapped the doorframe a few times. “Let’s get her tonight. I’m counting on you. Oh, and that pen is out of place.”
Raz glanced at the three pens aligned at the head of his desk, trying to think of a smart comeback to her jab at his tidiness. Before he could speak, she turned on her short-wedge heels and marched away from his office. He grimaced and rubbed his temples. Impatient dragon scales scratched along his spine.
Two days had passed since the Bubblegum Bandit marked her target. Which meant she would make her move within the following week. He’d expected her to grab it when they had cleaned the jewels, but that night had been uneventful.
What was she waiting for?
If she was Matsuda’s master thief Midnight, he had to bring her in to stop Matsuda from unleashing killer demonic forces. She may have been the only one to see Matsuda face-to-face in the past five years.
Once more, Raz stared at her fingers resting on the display case. He ground his teeth against his dragon’s insistent badgering and jumped to his feet.
You’re mine.
***
Traffic was normal for evening hours in Chicago—congested. Frayed, impatient nerves ate at Raz as he whipped his brand-new Charger onto alternate routes to avoid traffic. He still arrived at the gallery later than he wanted. After parking in the garage, on a street across from the gallery, he beelined toward the surveillance van. The vehicle with a plumbing-service logo sat on the second floor of the parking garage. A nice location directly across from the room housing the Wet’n-Wilder art collection’s pricey lingerie.
With his Cubs baseball hat in place, Raz knocked on the back door. He waved to the camera feed hidden on the truck’s rear end.
Nothing happened.
He tapped lightly on the door. Someone should have been inside watching the feeds. He knocked a second time before the back door opened just a crack. Finally.
Raz slipped inside.
Hot, humid air clung to his skin. A fan blew from the upper right. Raz chewed his mint gum, dampening the body odor and rank stench of the two sweaty men watching live feeds in the messy space.
“You guys sleeping in here?” Raz asked Pete and Ryan while he gazed around their screens.
Pete, a junior agent, sat in front of the six video outputs, three belonging to cameras on the van while, the others pointed at the lingerie. Ryan, whose enormous frame dwarfed his seat, was handling eight feeds surrounding the building to cover as many points of entry as possible.
“Angle was off in the back camera,” Ryan mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open. “We didn’t see you.”
Raz might have believed him had Pete not let out a loud yawn and rubbed at a red mark on his cheek.
“Uh. Huh,” Raz said. “Stay sharp.”
With multiple windows on each floor, the gallery was a nightmare to guard. The owners had been adamant about not moving the art show, raising red flags for Raz. Brooks, the art collection’s creator, wanted to keep the item on display to attract potential buyers.
“Removing the lingerie would destroy the show’s aesthetic,” the artist had said. “All the other pieces play off it. You can’t judge the price of the others without it.”
Money poured out of Brooks’s ass and people were willing to pay outrageous cash for his risque paintings bejeweled with expensive gemstones, as absurd as that sounded to Raz. He’d taken a second look at the size of the insurance policy Brooks had taken out on the jewels and didn’t wonder why he wasn’t afraid of the Bubblegum Bandit.
Pete sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “Been boring for the past couple of hours since rotating. Brooks only had a few private showings earlier today. They locked up around fourteen hundred hours.”
Nothing seemed off on the live feeds. Raz stepped backward, and a pile of Twinkie wrappers crinkled under his foot. Did someone rob a vending machine? A stash of chips sat under Ryan’s desk; sugary treats spilled out from under Pete’s, and bottles of various sodas lay next to the mini fridge.
Kicking at the wrapper pile, Raz murmured sarcastically, “Did you guys need any other supplies? You know, maybe water or something a little less sugary?”
“They restocked the vending machines today and gave out the outdated stuff for free,” Ryan said.
“Don’t worry,” Pete added. “We even scored a few water bottles, so we’ll stay hydrated.”
Raz scoffed, eyeing the energy drinks beside both men. That only works if you open one, kid.
Raz opened the mini fridge. Water bottles lined the top, but twice as many jarred coffees and energy drinks cluttered the rest. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a water bottle and snatched a walkie-talkie from the charging port on the cluttered counter. The walkie beeped when he turned the knob. He clipped it to his belt loop next to his badge and chugged the refreshing water.
“Let me know if anything changes,” Raz said. “I’m heading inside to check on security.”
Ryan waved at him while Pete gave a loud yawn. After leaving the van, Raz continued drinking the water as he rode down the elevator and walked across the street to the gallery.
Two buildings bordered the structure on either side. An alleyway bisected the next-door building and the gallery, while a walkway stretched along the other side. Taking the walkway, Raz watched for any suspicious activity. The streetlamps illuminated the cracking cement, but everything was still.
At the back door, Raz came upon two men. The officers were in civilian clothes, so they didn’t alert news sources to trouble.
They both nodded in greeting, looking wide awake and alert. One of them opened the door for Raz. He strode into an open entryway with white columns in a circle, holding up the second-floor landing. Marbled black and white tile glittered beneath his long strides like a ritzy lobby. After waving to the officers standing at the elevator and the security guard at the front desk, he jogged to the steps.
His hands shook as he gripped the stair railing with the excitement he felt every time he came to the gallery. It’d been a while since he felt invested in a case. The building was six floors, but they posted officers strategically around each level. The security booth with the building’s own cameras was conveniently on the second floor.
Pulling in a deep breath after running up the steps, he knocked on the door to the security booth.
No one answered.
Seriously? Is everyone sleeping on the job today? Whistles and cheering came through the door as if a football game was playing from within. Using his Insight, he didn’t sense any human spirit energy from inside. His fingers tingled as his heart rate accelerated. He tried the doorknob—locked.
As he was about to radio the guard on the walkie, the lights blinked off.
A hum filled the tense silence.
Someone had cut the power.
It’s showtime.
Adrenaline coursing in his veins, he kicked the door open. Grabbing the flashlight from the holster on his belt, he illuminated the booth. Empty. Had Roger left his post? From the amount of trash, it almost appeared as if he had eaten his way to the bathroom.
“Pete. Call in backup,” he said into the walkie talkie, running down the hall to the lingerie’s location.
“What’s happened? Everything went dark?” Pete said. His words came out slowly, with a slight lisp.
“We lost power,” Raz said, tongue feeling too thick for his mouth. “I’m heading to the pearl, going radio silent.” Raz turned the walkie off and snapped it to his belt. He held up his light. The floor spun from beneath him. Disoriented, he wobbled and caught himself against a table. Damn.
Why did he feel drunk?
An aroma tickled his nose. That familiar, expensive sweetness from the evidence bag. His dragon snarled to attention.
The Bubblegum Bandit.
I’ve got you now. A grin spread across his face, and he tightened his grip on the flashlight. Wooziness made each step difficult. When he reached the display room, he found a guard passed out in the entranceway. Sweeping his light around to check for an assailant, he half-knelt, half-fell as he reached to feel for the man’s pulse. He was alive.
What’s that thief up to?
Sure, the Bubblegum Bandit had been creative in each heist, but taking out security was new. Something had changed. She was getting sloppier and more aggressive. Jaw clenched, he stood only to have vertigo send him toppling forward. He caught himself before he tripped and took a deep breath.
Whatever the hell was wrong with him, he had to shake it off. Now.
He squeezed his tired eyes shut and braced his back against the wall. Flashlight blazing, he slid along the edge and swiveled around the corner.
Resting his shoulder on the wall for support, he swept the room with his light. Art hung from the walls, and a door on the opposite wall was open with darkness behind it. He stopped his light on the small figure standing beside the display case.
A headlamp wrapped her bubblegum-pink hair as she stood with her rear facing him. Her hands worked behind her back, clasping the jeweled bra in place over tight-as-sin black clothing.
Raz’s mouth salivated, and his dragon rammed against his already swirling head.
Mine.
