All familiar characters belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.

"Steph's gonna kill me for this," Valerie said when I answered my cell, "but I need you to do ... something. No one else will help me here."

"Take a breath and tell me what's happening," I said, catching Steph's eye where she was sitting butted up to my desk, giving Olivia a few more Cheerios to snack on since the first round went to Mo and Gunny.

I mouthed 'Valerie' to my wife, letting her know who's on the phone. Her sister calling me directly had Stephanie immediately reacting.

"Speaker," she ordered me. I hit the button so she could grill her sister. "What's going on, Val?"

"I just got a call from Mary Alice and Angie's school. There was a robbery in the area where the cashier was shot, and the guy took off before the police got there. Since the convenience store is only a mile away from the school, the message said they've put it on lockdown so no one can get inside."

"Oh God," Steph said, holding our daughter a little tighter I noticed.

Situations like this one we've discussed regularly and at length, with Julie being in a school far from us and Olivia eventually having to go to preschool. Stephanie has joked about the Rangeman organization funding a school so our kids can be protected by our people. Today it sounds less like a joke and more like something to consider.

"Yeah ... I'm totally freaking out right now," Valerie admitted. "They're trying to keep this quiet, but it's only a matter of minutes before it's all over the news, considering how fast the Burg sniffs out a story. I've been told repeatedly that the girls are safer where they are because all the school's exits are locked, but I want this guy found and my kids home with me. I'm their mother! How can I protect Angie and Mary Alice if I'm not allowed near them?"

"Let me make a call to the Chief and find out what they know ..."

A knock on my opened-office door was quickly followed by Vince poking his head in, looking apprehensive. "We just got word ..."

"That my nieces' school is too close to an active crime scene?" I said to him.

"Yeah."

"Give me what they've reported and then tell Tank, Junior, and Slick, to meet me downstairs in five minutes."

"Oh great," Steph said more to herself than to us. "I get to choose between my husband and father of my child's life or my nieces'? If I ask why you aren't already on the road yet, I'm putting you on the chopping block. If I threaten to nail you to your chair so you stay here safe and sound with us, I'm risking my nieces' lives."

"You don't have to choose who to save, Babe. I'm going and I'll find the shooter without the girls being harmed or even knowing I was in the area."

"I'm sorry ..." Valerie started to say.

"Don't apologize for loving your children and wanting them safe," I told her. "This is what I do for a living. I hunt down people who prefer not to be found."

"I know, but Olivia ..."

"Will likely be napping when I get back," I finished for her, "so I'll kiss her an extra time before I leave."

"Thank you. I didn't know who else to call. The school's message said to stay home and not distract the people in the office by calling every two minutes to ask if I can come get my kids now ..."

"I'm completely biased when it comes to Ranger, Val, but there is no one better to call in an emergency than Ranger, so you did the right thing. I'm glad that at least one member of my family understands what my husband can do and actually appreciates it."

"I do appreciate this. I can't even tell Albert that this is going on because he'll panic more than I am right now ... and I really can't handle both of us going nuts at the same time."

"The girls will be okay," I promised her, and not just because she needs to hear it.

"Thank you for saying that."

"You can switch phone numbers and call mine so you can keep talking to me and Olive, Val," Steph told her, "while Ranger and the guys are gone. Maybe we can keep each other from worrying ... unless you feel like taking a drive over here to hang out until this is over or you have to go pick up Lisa?"

"I can't sit still right now so I'm on my way. If I can't go stake out the school or harass its employees, your place is the next best thing until I get my girls back."

"Talk about a ringing endorsement," Steph replied, holding out a Cheerio for Olive to pinch-grab midair with her thumb and index finger.

"I'll be there in a five minutes. Thank you."

"What are sisters for?"

"Helping the older one who probably doesn't deserve it," Valerie surprised us both by saying before hanging up.

"She was a total pain in my ass growing up," my wife told me, "but I think we're starting to really like each other."

"There is nothing not to like about you, Babe. Valerie was just a little late catching onto that ... Helen made sure of that."

"I love you."

"I know ... and you also know that I'll be fine."

"I do."

"Right words, wrong context, Steph."

She paused to look down at Olive's upturned face before placing a kiss on her nose. That never fails to make our daughter try to keep her eyes on her Mama and appear temporarily cross-eyed.

"It's always the right context, because I'll do you all over again. And yes ... I mean that exactly how it sounds."

"Now I have an even bigger reason to fix this fast. We can make it a date during naptime."

I picked my daughter up when she reached for me.

"Give Daddy your ten-finger/ten-toe hug, Olive," Steph suggested. "He needs to feel it."

Olivia only understands a couple of the words her Mama said, but she did hold onto me in a way that I'd feel the imprint of her affection well into next week. Her arms and legs gripped me like Steph was subliminally manipulating our daughter's limbs and putting her own strength behind them.

"Two, three, or six?" I asked Olivia.

"Eeee," she repeated.

I know she's still too young to fully grasp what we say, and she can't count beyond saying 'More' when she wants extra of something she likes, but she's becoming a pro at imitating sounds she hears. And three sounds like a good number to me.

"Ready?" I extended my arms as far as they go above me with my daughter's body held securely in my hands. "One." I lowered her down for a kiss before lifting her high again. "Two." I repeated the lower, kiss, and then lift, maneuver. "Three," I finished, kissing her for the third time.

"She's going to learn to count in no time if you keep that up," Steph told me, as I passed Olive back to her. "I could get better at it too, because my kiss-number-choice would be way higher."

"I'll be okay, Babe."

"I know. And I'll spare you the tears and the swears by saying you'd better head out now. Valerie is worse than I am when it comes to physically and vocally worrying."

"I'm already gone."

"Which means you'll get back home faster."

I kissed her and our daughter again and left our dogs staring morosely at me from the door leading to the stairwell. "Guard," I ordered them.

There's no one our women need protection from within Rangeman's walls, but they appreciate having something to do. If they have more extensive training, next time I can take them with me when I need to hunt down an asshole.

Junior rode with me while Tank will head our other search-and-arrest team with Slick. I located the Chief and Steph's friend Gazarra and got copies of the suspect's picture that was a screen shot taken from the store's security camera. Tank and I spoke to the officers who were first on the scene and then inspected the site of the shooting ourselves before joining the search that now included a member of the K-9 unit in hopes of wrapping this up quickly. There was one bloody boot print where the fucker must've stepped in the victim's blood as he fled from the exit at the back of the building. Tank and Slick headed in the direction the toe of the print was pointing towards.

I went the opposite way, with Junior not far behind me, where I had notice two drops of blood that likely came from the bloody nose the video showed the store clerk caused before the robbery turned into an attempted murder. My gut never fails me, and it's telling me that I'll find him hiding out close by. The yards of the neighboring homes and businesses have been given a walk-through, and no one has reported a break-in or a hostage situation, which tells me this idiot isn't a career criminal. He likely just panicked at encountering an employee who fought back instead of simply handing over the cash, and now he's trying to lay low while praying like hell that the cops overlook him. He doesn't have any other options with no vehicle or accomplice waiting to get his ass out of Dodge.

Apparently no one else paid any attention to a clothesline in one backyard about half-a-mile from the store. On the surface, it seemed like nothing unusual had taken place here, but at the end of a row of neatly hung, blindingly-white towels, one clip hung half-hazardously from the line. A quick look showed its mate lying in the grass with a miniscule amount of blood on one end as if someone needed something to staunch the flow of blood coming from say ... a recently broken nose.

This evidence aside ... I know he's here. I can feel it. I scanned the outside of the small, well-kept home, backyard, and its separate garage, looking for anything that seems off. Everything appeared normal except one deck chair on the patio had been pulled too close to the side of the home in my mind. After I told Junior to radio Tank and tell him what I've discovered, I kept my Glock pointed at the house as I approached it. The height on the chair's seat to where the edge of the roof juts out, is the perfect distance for a five-foot-seven-inch male to use the chair as a step to get up onto the roof.

There's no sign of an asshole trying to play sniper above me, which left only one possibility. As soundlessly as I could, I scaled the small addition and used it to get onto the much larger, sloped roof. When I reached the chimney, I kept my body low so a bullet couldn't hit me if he fired from inside his masonry hideout. If any part of his body appeared, he'll be dead before he can pull the trigger. For politeness' sake, I made a request.

"I've got you, you little motherfucker. Drop the weapon and keep your hands up where I can see them. If you try anything or you ignore me, the homeowners will be scrubbing your DNA out of their chimney flue for weeks to come."

An immediate thump from a gun being released and a two shaking hands emerging put an end to today's ordeal. "Don't shoot," he pleaded.

A grin threatened my lips as I hauled him out of his hidey-hole one-handed and cuffed both of his. This was almost too easy.

"Bet the guy you just shot said the same thing to you about an hour ago," I said, as Tank reached up to grab the cuffed wrists and ankles to get him on the ground to hand over to the officers waiting behind him. "If they weren't looking, I'd shoot you for not listening to him."