High Risk Page 19

  Jake leaned against the counter, looking anywhere but at me. “Anything else?”

  “He has brown eyes,” I said. “Dark brown.”

  Jake put down the mug. “Okay, that’s something.”

  “I guess.” I stared at the folder the men had taken from me and slid to the other side of the table. “I know he had a weapon. Actually, he had two.” I squinted. “He gave one to the blond. He wanted him to shoot me, almost like a gang initiation. But if the blond man didn’t do it, he was going to shoot him.”

  “What about the other guy?” Jake asked.

  “I hit him with a bottle. I thought I knocked him out, but these guys are like cockroaches. Nothing can keep them down for long. He got up.”

  “That’s Diego, right?” Brad asked.

  I nodded.

  “Did you find anything on the name?” Brad asked Jake. “You should have robbery cross-reference it with known crews and previous offenders.”

  “I did,” Jake said.

  Brad stopped pacing and put his hands on his hips. “And?”

  “There are a lot of Diegos in the system.”

  “You’re not doing it right. Did you cross-reference it to other cases with crews of three? If you enter the stats we have on the other two, you’d probably get a hit.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Jake said.

  “I doubt that.”

  “Then get your ass down to the precinct and do some research. No one’s stopping you,” Jake said.

  “Fellows,” I snapped, and two sets of eyes turned to me, “this sucks. Don’t make it worse.”

  “Sorry,” Brad mumbled.

  “Me too,” Jake said. The three of us stared at the table for a few moments.

  “All right, we need to reassess. We know they broke into Star Cleaners to steal LockBox uniforms, but they only got two. We assume they attempted to rob the truck and not the dispensary, but the money truck never showed. So they kidnapped the LockBox driver, stripped him, and killed him.”

  “They tortured him,” Jake said. “The medical examiner noticed his fingers and toes had been broken, probably smashed with a hammer. Not a lot of blood, but a lot of pain.”

  “They didn’t want to make a mess on the uniform,” Brad said, which went along with what we’d already learned.

  “They needed the third LockBox uniform,” I said. “When they went into the subway station, they each had one.”

  “We’re working under the assumption they intended to rob the station agent, possibly to increase their score from the dispensary,” Jake said. “Footage from the subway tunnel showed two LockBox guards enter together. They each carried a duffel bag.”

  “Those are the two with the dark hair – Gravelly Voice and Diego.”

  “So where was Blondie?” Brad asked. “Did you find anything else on the footage?”

  “Another guy in a LockBox uniform entered a few seconds after they did. He didn’t go to the station agent. He went through the turnstiles and straight to the platform. The three were never together, so we couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a coincidence,” Jake said.

  “Except I’m guessing Blondie hopped the next train and attacked Officer Cruz in the out of order restroom,” I said. “Do you think they sent him ahead to act as a diversion?”

  “It’s possible. We don’t know. We don’t know where Diego or Gravelly went after they killed the station agent. We’re still assuming they took refuge in the tunnels, but our search was inconclusive,” Jake said. “Nothing ever popped up.”

  “They could have taken off the uniforms and tossed them into the bags they carried,” Brad said, “or they climbed up one of the service ladders. There’s a million places they could have gone that we wouldn’t have noticed if they went through the tunnels.”

  “And since we shut down the trains, they didn’t have to worry about getting run over,” I said. “Dammit.” The back of my neck throbbed, and I put my head in my hands, hoping to ease the muscle tension.

  “After the fiasco in the subway, they vanished,” Jake said, “except they didn’t stay gone for long. Fourteen hours later, these bastards had the gall to show their faces back at their favorite haunt, 24/7 Spirits.” He flipped open the folder by his elbow and pulled out a few shots of the exterior and the neighborhood. “What’s so special about that liquor store?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did you run the owner?” Brad asked. “He could be in on it. He left Liv inside. He waited until he was halfway out the door before telling her the asshole brought his friends in with him, and he kept her from leaving by telling her the offender had someone keeping watch out front.”

  “I couldn’t have left anyway,” I said. “Civilian lives were at risk.”

  “You could have walked outside, got in your car, and radioed for help. It’s what you should have done,” Brad argued.

  I glared at him. “Bullshit. Bull. Shit.”

  “Her presence might have saved lives,” Jake said.

  But Brad just stared at him. “No one else was at risk, Voletek. You know that as well as I do. They went there for one purpose. You wanted to bring Liv back into this, so are you going to tell her what’s going on? Or are you going to make me do it?”

  No one had told me much of anything about that night or what happened today. Jake cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is Liv’s safe.”

  “She’s not going to be safe until we catch these assholes.” Brad came back to the table and flipped the chair backward before sitting down. “We recovered your gun from the scene. And your cuffs. But these chuckleheads took your badge.”

  “Okay,” I said, not following along.

  “They took Officer Cruz’s badge too,” Jake said. “We know they like to play dress-up. Today, we got a call from the company that supplies police uniforms. Three men assaulted the delivery truck driver and stole a box of uniforms off the truck. We believe the reason they were staking out 24/7 Spirits was to get the jump on a few first responders. The owner says he has several regulars who show up every day right after they get off graveyard.”

  “They plan on impersonating cops,” Brad said. “We just don’t know why.”

  “And they plan on using my badge to do it,” I said.

  “It appears that way.” Jake sighed. “Unless this is some kind of gang initiation thing, like you suggested, in which case, the badges might be trophies.”

  “That wouldn’t explain stealing the uniforms off a truck or the lengths they’ve gone to dress the part before making a score.” I tried to think through the details. “They still want a big payday. They must. And killing, especially cops or people in uniform, is just a bonus. They must have realized as soon as the armored truck heist went south, that we’d provide added security to LockBox and other high value targets in the area. For all we know, the botched robbery might have been intentional so we’d play right into their hands.” I looked from one man to the other. “What are we guarding that’d be worth going to this much trouble?”

  “I have no idea,” Jake said. “I hoped you heard them say something.”

  I tried to think back. “Most of that night’s a blur.”

  “Understandable.” Jake drained his coffee cup. “I just thought I’d ask.”

  He put his mug in the dishwasher, and I stood, reaching for the folder he’d kept me from reading. The sudden shift in position made me lightheaded, and I teetered. Brad was on his feet in a second, grabbing my arm and pulling me against him before I could collapse.

  “Whoa, Liv.” He waited until I regained my balance before he sat me back down in the chair. “That’s enough for tonight. You need to rest, or Emma’s gonna kill us all.”

  “You okay?” Jake asked.

  “Get her some water,” Brad said.

  Jake refilled the stainless steel tumbler I’d been saddled with and put it down beside me. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

  “I’m fine.” But I hated having my colleagu
es take care of me.

  “Her blood pressure’s wonky.” Brad glanced at the cuff Emma had brought home, along with a pulse oximeter and a few other diagnostic tools. I grabbed his arm before he decided to play doctor. That would probably make Jake the nurse. If I wasn’t the patient, it might have been entertaining or the plot of one of Emma’s smuttier daydreams.

  “Before you have me hauled out of here in a body bag,” I pointed to the folder, “I want to see what you’re hiding from me. I’m not buying your story, gentlemen.”

  “Liv, now’s not the time. Not after that episode,” Brad said.

  “He’s right, princess.”

  I glared at Jake. “What did I tell you about calling me that?”

  “Well, you did almost faint. That’s a very princess-like thing to do.”

  “Voletek,” I growled, “let me see it.”

  “It’s mostly crime scene photos.” Jake and Brad exchanged a look.

  “I have a right to know what happened to me. Please.” I held out my hand, unwilling to take no for an answer.

  Brad blew out a breath. It was clear he didn’t think this was a good idea, but he nodded, and Jake handed over the folder.

  Thirty

  “I wish I’d been there to protect you.” Brad swallowed uncomfortably but forced himself to look at the photos with me. He slipped his hand underneath the table to hide the tremor from our fellow homicide detective.

  “That’s not your job,” I said.

  “Yes, it is. I’m your partner. I won’t let you down again. I’ve done it too many times already.”

  Jake circled the table. “We didn’t pull any prints from the security panel. The camera hadn’t been tampered with. With all the broken bottles and disturbed shelves, it’s hard to tell exactly what went down, besides one hell of a fight. You sure can hold your own.”

  “That’s what makes me a DeMarco.”

  “Roberts found you here. Your gun was here. Only one bullet was missing, and we found it lodged here.” Jake spread a few of the photos out and pointed to a spot near the bottom of the counter. “Your statement goes along with our findings. You shot once, and it scared them away.”

  “I hit Diego with a bottle.” I shuffled the photos around. “We were near the front door. Somewhere around here.”

  “Okay.” Jake handed Brad the evidence list. “Forensics said they found two blood samples that didn’t belong to Liv.”

  “One was right here.” Brad pointed to a close-up of a broken piece of glass. “That’s not wine. That’s blood.”

  “Did we get DNA?” I asked. “Or was it too degraded by the alcohol?”

  “It’s still processing,” Brad said. “At least it was the last I heard.”

  “Ellie?” I asked.

  Brad shook his head. “No. Winston had me removed from everything. She won’t call me with any updates.”

  “Son of a bitch.” I understood why, but I didn’t like it. “This was our case. We’ve been dealing with it since the call came in. You should be on top of this.” I met Jake’s eyes. “No offense.”

  He held up his palms. “None taken, and for the record, I concur. The LT’s a stickler. You’re one of ours. He should be willing to compromise and take help from wherever he can get it.”

  “What about Captain Grayson?” Brad asked. “Liv’s his goddaughter. I’m sure he’s got everyone from our old unit on this.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Jake rubbed the scruff on his face. As usual, he looked like he should be working the streets instead of hanging out behind a desk. “But Lisco and I were assigned this. So it’s our show, I guess. Except I want this stopped as soon as possible, which is why I came here.”

  “That’s because I’m the best,” I teased.

  Jake winked. “I bet you are.”

  Brad cleared his throat. “Anyway, we need to find what connects the unsubs to that liquor store. The owner said he’s seen the killer before. But he didn’t go into details. Is the killer a frequent flyer?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said.

  “Didn’t you speak to him?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but you met the guy. He’s not what you’d call cooperative.”

  “Yeah.” But no matter how I thought about it, I kept reaching the same conclusion. “There’s no way the unsubs would have known I’d be there. Gravelly Voice was surprised. He asked me if I was the bitch from the subway.” A flash of something important ran through my mind, but it was gone before I could latch on to it.

  “So he recognized you,” Brad said. From the look on his face, I didn’t want to know what he was thinking. “You definitely need protection.” He reached for his phone. “If Winston won’t assign another unit, I bet Grayson will.”

  “Stop.” I put my hand over his phone. “Why are you so worried?” But as usual, my partner ignored my question and did what he wanted. He went into the living room and spoke in hushed tones. “What’s his deal?” I asked, realizing Brad had only left my side when other police officers had been right outside.

  “You know, Brad. He’s loyal.”

  “Try overprotective.”

  Jake laughed. “In a past life, I bet he was a German shepherd or a pit bull. Either way, he saw the crime scene photos and flipped out a little. He demanded Winston take action, but when the lieutenant was a little slow on the uptake, Brad pulled the pin. He requested personal leave.”

  “And hasn’t left my side since.”

  Jake removed the last photo from the folder. This one had been facing the other way, so I couldn’t see it. Slowly, he turned it over, resting one hand on the back of my chair, as if I might need to have someone close by. Scrawled on the floor in my blood was a message:

  She’s the first cop to die, but she won’t be the last.

  “Jesus.” I grasped the folder in my hands, noting the pool of blood that covered the floor like a bucket of spilled paint. That was my blood. The room spun, and I sucked in a breath. A memory of the gravelly voice making threats, saying he knew what he wanted to do if he had more time, if I hadn’t made such a mess, now made sense. I remembered when he grabbed my belt loops and dragged me toward him. A shiver went through me, and Jake closed the folder.

  “If they realize you’re alive, they might make another attempt. That’s what your partner’s worried about.”

  “Have they killed anyone else?” I asked.

  “Not yet. We’ve been vigilant. No one goes anywhere alone. Two units to every call. It’s a miracle they didn’t kill the truck driver today.”

  “What did he have to say about the attack?”

  “A man with a Halloween mask jumped him when he went to make the delivery. He got out of the truck, opened the back, heard a noise, turned, and got clubbed. If they hit him any harder, we would have been scooping his brains off the asphalt.”

  I cringed, causing Jake to regret his words.

  “But they didn’t,” he assured me.

  Brad hung up the phone and returned to the table. “Grayson said he’ll make the request, but he’s certain the higher brass will approve.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but one look from Brad silenced me. I’d give him this one because now I understood why he was so concerned. But I was a cop. I could handle myself. And if those men came back, they’d regret it.

  “I think that’s enough for tonight,” Jake said. “You’ve given me some great starting points. I’m going to see if I can find any Diegos who live within walking distance of 24/7 Spirits. Maybe we’ll get lucky. I’ll have Lisco check to see if there’s anything the police have access to that no one else does. It could lead us somewhere. In the meantime, we’re keeping an eye out for your badge in case it turns up at another crime scene or in a pawn shop. If these bastards try to use it somewhere, we’ll hear about it. But in the meantime, I need you to get some rest. I’ll drop by tomorrow after work and we’ll hammer out more of these details. Who knows what we might have learned by then?”

  “Thanks, Jake,” I said.r />
  Brad got up to walk him out. They stood just outside my apartment for ten minutes, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. More than likely, it had to do with me and aspects of the case they didn’t want me to know about. If I hadn’t been so tired, I would have gone into the hallway and given them a piece of my mind. Instead, I took my water, changed back into my pajamas, got into bed, and called Emma.

  “Do you want me to come back?” Emma asked.

  “No,” I said, “Brad’s staying the night. And I only have one couch. I don’t want either of you to have to sleep on the floor.”

  “I could always bunk with you,” Emma offered. “You remember, like summer camp. Girls in one cabin, boys in the other.”

  “You snore.”

  “Fine, but I’ll be over first thing in the morning. Make sure the cops outside add me to the list. I don’t want to have to run through another twenty questions and get cavity searched just to see you.”

  “They didn’t really do that.”

  “No, but I think they wanted to. Good night, Liv. And just remember, if you don’t feel well or something happens, go straight to the hospital and call me on the way, okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m serious.” Emma let out a sigh. “I don’t like not being there. You should be staying at your parents’ house. There are plenty of extra rooms. I’m here. Gunnie’s here. Bradley could sleep in the guest room or on the couch or whatever.”

  “Not tonight,” I said.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Maybe.” I wished her a good night and hung up.

  Thirty-one

  Something wet pressed against the side of my hand. It wasn’t exactly cold or warm, just wet. Not blood, I thought, though that had been the only thing on my mind since I went to bed. That and the crime scene photos. I hated when Brad was right. He didn’t want me to see them. One of these days maybe I’d learn to listen to my partner.

  The wet thing slid beneath my hand and pressed up against my palm, followed by a low whine. Surely, I didn’t make that noise.