“Ray just forwarded me the bridge video he got from the transportation department,” Mason said. He clicked on his keyboard and leaned closer to his screen. Ava slid across the couch and pressed against his side for a good look. The clip loaded and they were treated to a calm black-and-white scene with the occasional vehicle crossing the bridge.

“Which way are we looking?” Ava narrowed her brows.

“West. The one-way traffic is moving away from us.”

She studied the cars. The image quality was too poor for her to identify most of the makes or models, let alone get a plate number. Finally a white van passed under the camera and crossed the span, slowing as it reached the end of the huge arc that covered most of the bridge. “Dammit. We’re too far away,” she muttered. The van pulled to the side of the road and switched on its flashers. A few more cars crossed, ignoring the van off to the side. A figure stepped out of the driver’s door and set up two construction cones behind the truck. Ava and Mason both leaned closer.

He was simply a silhouette. The camera was at least a hundred yards away.

“No one’s going to look twice at a van with cones. What’s on the rear cargo doors? It looks like some sort of logo?” Ava asked without taking her gaze from the screen.

“Too far to tell.”

He wouldn’t use a van that told us who he is. The logo is probably fake or misleading.

The driver slid open the side door closest to the edge of the bridge.

The driver stopped and stared off the side of the bridge toward the water and city. He leaned over the side, looking down. Ava sucked in a breath, expecting someone else to leap out of the van and push him over. Even at this distance, she could tell he was perilously close to falling.

“What the hell’s he doing? Admiring the view?” Mason swore under his breath.

The driver vanished into the van, reappeared, and worked at the rail of the bridge.

He stepped back, checked the traffic, and then moved into the van. He appeared seconds later with a large burden. He awkwardly flung part of it up on the rail and gave it a push. Wasting no time, he grabbed the cones and flung them into the van. His right blinker politely flashed as he merged into a lane and drove toward the city.

Mason and Ava both leaned back into the couch cushions. “Holy shit, that was fearless,” said Mason, shaking his head. He restarted the video.

Ava watched, wondering what was going through their suspect’s mind. “He had to know there would be a camera. He probably knew exactly where it was, but there was no way to choose a place on the bridge that wouldn’t be caught on film. He managed to pick a location about as far away as he could but still get the punch of hanging Scott from nearly the highest point.”

“I want to know why he leaned over so far. I thought he was going to try to fly,” Mason added. “Your BAU department is going to have a blast picking this guy’s brain apart.”

“Methodical, prepared, and cautious,” commented Ava. “But then there’s that moment where he lets go and simply enjoys the height and thrill.” She shuddered. “Heights and I aren’t friends. No thrills for me.”

Mason looked at her. “I didn’t know that. Like bad enough to avoid ladders and amusement park rides?”

“Tall ladders, yes. Amusement park rides don’t bother me. Unless they go upside down. I won’t ride on anything that takes me upside down.” She watched the clip silently play out. “I hope they can make out the logo. It’s probably fake, but whatever is on there will give BAU some more fodder to chew on.”

“Could just be a stolen van,” Mason surmised.

Ava considered that. “I think that’s too risky. I bet it’s his. Or belongs to someone who doesn’t mind him using it. I’m sure our tech guys are already working on this video, trying to get a plate and make on the van.”

“We need to check the nearby camera views for passing shots, too.”

She nodded. “Hopefully they can catch a clearer view.”

Mason started the clip for a third time and they silently watched it together.

She and Mason often spent their evenings discussing cases. While she’d been off the job recovering, listening to him talk about his daily work had kept her sane. To feel human and not useless, she had a need to process and discover and think and speculate. It was essential for her to feel like she was constantly moving forward, not spinning her wheels. Her return to the job had brought her own cases into their evening quiet time. Other couples might go to movies, but she and Mason liked to dig into their files and break them down together.

What is wrong with us?

Or were they perfect for each other? She hid a smile. The lawman-cowboy had turned out to be the yin to her yang. He exuded a confident, relaxed state that helped keep her occasional emotional turmoil under control. He rarely allowed his feathers to ruffle; she was learning to do the same.

Bingo shoved his muzzle under her elbow and rested his head in her lap, creating an effective block to her keyboard. She ruffled his silky ears, and he gave a soft doggie sigh. Ava wasn’t the only one who’d recently found a quiet haven under Mason Callahan’s wing.

“Have I mentioned I enjoy our evenings together?” she asked.

Mason didn’t look up from his screen. “One time or a dozen. Your previous life must have been really dull if this is pleasurable.”

“No, I was usually working by myself and stressing over Jayne—Oh! I didn’t tell you I got a call about her this morning.” She updated him about Jayne’s latest job loss.