The sun had just set as we drove out to the coordinates from the note. Harper, Jenkins, and I were crammed into the surveillance van, with Alex in the back, monitoring the feed from the cameras we'd discreetly set up earlier in the day. The location was an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, the perfect spot for our killer to make their next move.
Harper handed out earpieces and gave us our final instructions. "All right, team, this is it. We need to be on high alert. No jokes, no distractions. Our killer is smart, and we can't afford to slip up."
Jenkins, sitting beside me in the driver's seat, saluted with mock seriousness. "Yes, sir. No jokes. Dead serious."
"Jenkins, I mean it," Harper said, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
We split up, with Harper and Alex staying in the van to monitor the feed while Jenkins and I took positions around the warehouse. Jenkins, ever the optimist, had managed to sneak a bag of snacks into his jacket and was munching on chips as we waited.
"Want some?" he offered, holding out the bag.
I shook my head, trying not to laugh. "Jenkins, how do you always manage to think about food at a time like this?"
"Hey, stakeouts are long and boring. Gotta keep my energy up," he replied with a grin.
A few hours passed with no sign of activity. Jenkins kept himself entertained by making shadow puppets on the warehouse wall with his flashlight, while I tried to stay focused on the task at hand. Just as I was beginning to think the night would be a bust, Alex's voice crackled through our earpieces.
"Guys, we've got movement. A car just pulled up."
Jenkins and I tensed, watching as a sleek, black sedan rolled to a stop outside the warehouse. Two figures emerged, one of them clearly the woman we'd seen at the gala. The other was a tall man in a dark coat, his face obscured by a hat.
"Stay sharp," Harper's voice came through. "We need to catch them in the act."
The two figures approached the warehouse, and the man produced a key, unlocking the padlock on the door. Jenkins and I exchanged a glance, then moved in closer, keeping to the shadows.
Inside, the warehouse was dimly lit, with crates and old machinery casting eerie shadows. The woman and her companion made their way to the center of the room, where a large table was set up, covered in what looked like puzzle pieces and maps.
"Let's get a closer look," I whispered to Jenkins.
We crept forward, careful not to make any noise. From our vantage point behind a stack of crates, we could hear the pair's conversation.
"This is the final piece," the man said, laying a puzzle piece on the table. "Once it's in place, they'll never be able to trace it back to us."
The woman nodded, looking over the maps. "We need to move quickly. The police are getting too close."
Jenkins nudged me, whispering, "That's our cue. Ready?"
I nodded, and we stepped out from behind the crates, guns drawn. "Freeze! Police!"
The woman and the man spun around, eyes wide with shock. The man reached for something in his coat, but Jenkins was faster, knocking him to the ground and cuffing him in one swift motion.
"Nice try, buddy," Jenkins said, securing the man's hands behind his back.
I moved to the woman, who had her hands up, looking more annoyed than scared. "We got you now. Who's behind all this?"
She glared at me, then smirked. "You think you've won, but you have no idea what's really going on."
Before I could press further, Harper and Alex burst in, guns drawn. "Good work, team," Harper said, securing the woman. "Let's get them back to the precinct and see what they know."
As we loaded the suspects into the van, Jenkins couldn't resist a final jab. "So, Kan, what do you call a puzzle that's been solved?"
I sighed, knowing what was coming. "What?"
"A piece of cake!" Jenkins said, laughing.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but smile. "You're hopeless, Jenkins."
Back at the precinct, the interrogation began. The man, who we learned was named Vincent, refused to talk, but the woman, introduced as Sarah, was more cooperative.
"We're part of a larger organization," Sarah explained. "The puzzles were just a distraction, a way to keep you off our trail while we moved the real goods."
"What goods?" Harper demanded.
"Rare artifacts, stolen art, anything valuable," Sarah said, leaning back in her chair. "We used the puzzles to lure you into thinking it was all just a game."
Harper's eyes narrowed. "Who's behind it? Who's the mastermind?"
Sarah shook her head. "I don't know. I've never met them. We all get our orders from someone called 'The Mastermind.'"
Jenkins, standing beside me, whispered, "Of course. It had to be something dramatic like that."
As the interrogation continued, Jenkins and I headed back to our desks, exhausted but relieved to have made progress.
"Think we'll ever find out who The Mastermind is?" I asked, sinking into my chair.
Jenkins shrugged. "Who knows? But one thing's for sure—if they keep sending us on these wild goose chases, at least we'll have plenty of material for our comedy routines."
I laughed, feeling a sense of camaraderie that had grown stronger with each case. "Yeah, Jenkins."
As we wrapped up our paperwork, Harper came over, a rare smile on his face. "Good work today, both of you. We're getting closer. Keep it up."
With renewed determination and Jenkins' endless humor, we knew we were ready for whatever The Mastermind had in store. The game was far from over, but we were in it together, and that made all the difference.