High Risk Read online

  Forcing my eyelids open, I watched Gunnie nudge my hand with his wet nose, intent on slipping his head beneath my palm so I would pet him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He gave up on his quest and stood on his hind legs, with his front paws on the edge of the bed, and barked once.

  “Emma,” I mumbled, interpreting his bark. After all, if he could talk, that’s what he would have said. He nudged me again. “Fine, I’ll get up.”

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed and waited for the room to stop spinning before I attempted to stand. It was freezing, so I grabbed a zippered sweatshirt from the drawer, got cleaned up, and went into the kitchen. Everything hurt, especially my neck and shoulder which burned nonstop.

  Brad glanced in my direction as I stumbled toward the table. “You didn’t sleep well.” He had bags beneath the bags.

  “Neither did you.”

  “I was busy.”

  “Doing what?” I peered into the living room. “Where’d you get the giant whiteboard?”

  “The office supply store has two hour delivery.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “No, but they opened at six. And since I ordered around two, I guess I was their first stop.”

  “And the files?” I asked.

  “Copies. Jake dropped them off on his way to work, but if anyone asks, we didn’t get them from him.”

  I pantomimed zipping my lip and tossing away the key. Over the course of the night, Brad had recreated our murder board with all the updated intel from each of the five crime scenes. He flipped the board around to show me the profiles he’d been working on for our three suspects.

  “I’m gonna need coffee first,” I said.

  “Emma said you better eat breakfast and don’t forget to take your antibiotics. She wanted to change your bandages before she left, but since you were asleep, she left me in charge.”

  “Eh, they’re okay.” I ran a hand over the one at the side of my neck and winced.

  “That’s not okay.” He abandoned the work he’d been doing and grabbed the supplies. “It doesn’t look infected.” He took a few snapshots with his phone.

  “Are you adding that to the file?” I pointed to his work in progress.

  “No, Em made me promise to send her photos since she couldn’t check on you herself.” He pressed a clean bandage against my skin, and I made the same noise Gunnie had earlier. “Hold this,” he said. And I held it so he could tape it.

  “I could have done that myself.”

  “I’d like to see you do the one on your shoulder yourself.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Not even a little.”

  I unzipped my sweatshirt and shrugged out of it. Brad let my bra strap hang off my shoulder while he patched up what he could.

  “No wonder you couldn’t sleep. That must hurt like a son of a bitch.” He put the tape down and carefully readjusted my bra strap so it wouldn’t dig into the bandage or my bruises. Then he helped me get my sweatshirt back on.

  “You tell anyone about this, and I’ll kick your ass,” I teased.

  He cleaned off the table, tossed the gloves he wore into the trash, and washed his hands. Then he poured me a cup of coffee and took the skillet off the warming burner and put the contents on a plate. While I ate, Gunnie stared at me, licking his chops every time I took a bite.

  “What’s he doing here?” I pointed my fork at the dog.

  “Emma brought him over. She said you’d want the company.”

  “But I have you.”

  Brad laughed. “That’s what I said.” His phone beeped, and he picked it up. “I swear she has this place bugged.” He handed me the device, so I could read her message. She said the wounds looked clean and appeared to be healing, followed by a long list of things Brad should watch out for and do should any problems arise.

  I handed him back his phone and finished eating. “What are you doing?” I asked. “This isn’t you. You follow orders. The LT reassigned you to another case, and according to Voletek, you basically told your commanding officer to shove it.”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear.” He cleared away my dishes. “I thought we agreed last night that someone has to stop these guys.”

  “Voletek and Lisco can handle it.”

  “I told you, Liv, you don’t have to do this. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “Then I’m gonna have to request a new partner.”

  Rolling my eyes, I took my cup and went into the living room and stared at the notations on the board. “We need a map.”

  Brad pointed to the back of my front door.

  “Smart ass,” I mumbled.

  We knew the order in which things happened. The killers were taking things step by step, as if each move was part of a masterplan. Unfortunately, they were playing chess while we were playing checkers. They wanted to take down our king, except I had no idea who or what was the king. This had to be about a score.

  “What happened with Moonlight Security?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Lisco spoke to the CEO. Apparently, they default the security codes to street addresses, but since Star Cleaners didn’t have a four-figure street number, they used the name of the business. They do that with every system they install, but they tell the owners to change the codes. Apparently, Mr. Lee didn’t pay attention.”

  “That means anyone who worked for Moonlight Security could have gained access, in addition to the employees at Star Cleaners.”

  “Everyone from Star Cleaners checked out, remember? And Lisco ran down everyone currently employed by Moonlight Security, but every regular and part-time security guard alibied out for Gardner’s murder. I don’t know about the employees they let go, but no one had a sheet. They did extensive background checks before hiring, the same as LockBox.”

  “Are you sure we checked everyone?”

  “As far as I know. What are you thinking?”

  “Gravelly Voice knew exactly where the panel was to deactivate the security system in 24/7 Spirits. He went straight for it. He didn’t try to attack me. He wanted to turn off the system before it drew anyone’s attention.”

  “Moonlight didn’t install the security system at 24/7 Spirits,” Brad said. “That system came from one of the nationwide chains. It was a one and done. Just lights and sound. It doesn’t connect to any service. The liquor store owner thought that’d be enough of a theft deterrent on its own.”

  “Yeah, just like the freaking surveillance camera.” I dropped onto the couch. “None of this makes any sense. Could Gravelly Voice have been a previous liquor store employee?”

  “Wouldn’t the owner have recognized him?”

  “Maybe he wasn’t the guy staking out the store for an hour.”

  “All right, I’ll have someone check records on previous employees since the only people who work there now are the owner and Shelly something or other.” Brad picked up his phone and shot off a message, even though I was certain the guys in homicide had already done it. Then Brad spun the whiteboard over to where he’d created a flow chart showing the places these bastards hit, the victims they left in their wake, and the items they stole. A big square with a question mark remained at the end of the chart. “They might be reacting to changing conditions and intel.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Okay, so they hit Star Cleaners to get the uniforms because they had a hundred million dollar goal in mind, except the armored truck broke down. So they decided to improvise. There’s three of them and dissension in the ranks. The mess they made outside the dispensary wasn’t methodical like Star Cleaners.”

  “They made a mess there too.”

  Brad swallowed as images of Gardner’s body resurfaced. “Whatever their new plan is, they needed a third uniform. They could have waited for the truck, possibly taken all three guards at once, and attracted less attention. Or they could have waited until the
two guards went inside and then just took out the driver while they were disguised. I’d say that would have been the best plan. The safest. Easiest.”

  “You think one of them got greedy.”

  “Or panicked. Or they had something else in mind.”

  “Maybe they didn’t know the truck was coming,” I said. “It was delayed for over an hour. They could have thought they missed it.”

  “Then why didn’t they wait and try another day?” Brad asked.

  “Greed. Impatience.”

  “Or they’re afraid we’re getting too close.”

  “Which would mean someone we questioned or something we found leads straight to them.” I bit my lip, hit by the nagging feeling I was forgetting something. “So they had to keep moving. But that means they don’t have a plan.”

  “I think they have a plan, but it’s changing and evolving as they go.”

  “That’s not much of a plan,” I argued.

  “No, but for whatever the reason, they robbed the dispensary. Perhaps they thought the pickup was greater than it was. And when they didn’t get a ton of money, they changed the play on the fly and decided they needed a third uniform, so they abducted Rook.”

  I put my head in my hands and let out a frustrated growl, which resulted in Gunnie enthusiastically wagging his tail at me. Apparently, I spoke dog. “Okay, here’s what I don’t understand. They strip and kill the LockBox driver, which gave them three LockBox uniforms. Why shift tactics and steal badges and police uniforms?”

  Brad pointed a marker at me. “They must need both.”

  “For what?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  We spent most of the afternoon researching overlap locations, but there weren’t many. Police were only present at prominent locations or areas where the public gathered. The LockBox armored trucks had specific routes and locations. They varied by the day and week in order to prevent psychos from getting any funny ideas.

  “They tortured Lindsey Rook, the armored truck driver. We need to know what he knew,” I said.

  “The transcripts from the LockBox interviews are on the police servers.”

  I grabbed my laptop and readjusted on the couch, placing a pillow beneath my bruised side to keep from aggravating it while I kept the pressure off my shoulder and neck. Then I logged in and searched for the data. While I read, Brad researched possible targets. Oddly enough, this was almost exactly where we left off several days ago.

  “It can’t be a government site,” Brad declared. “LockBox doesn’t have any contracts with the city. The only thing I can say is the offenders know the police are covering LockBox’s ass, which might explain why they wanted to have police uniforms handy.”

  “Why did they go down to the subway?” I asked. The transcripts hadn’t provided much. At full capacity, each armored truck could hold almost half a billion dollars, but they didn’t collect that much on any route. The hundred million was the largest amount any of their trucks carried. Once they hit close to that amount, they’d take the money to the depository.

  “To escape.”

  “They had a getaway vehicle. They could have dumped the body anywhere and drove off. They went there for a reason. LockBox doesn’t have any government contracts, so it’s no wonder the station agent didn’t react well when they demanded she hand over the money from her booth.”

  “Assuming that’s what they demanded.” Brad reached for a map of the subway tunnels and hung it beneath the city map. Then he marked the subway lines and stations on the regular map with a red pen. “The witness didn’t hear what they said.”

  “So why do you think they approached the station agent and then killed her if it wasn’t for money? I know she doesn’t exactly have millions in the booth with her, just a regular cash drawer, but still, they took $250 from the dry cleaner’s. Money’s money to them.”

  Brad thought for a moment. “It’s not like the old days where you had the ticket booths and all the collected fares. Everything’s electronic and automated. The station agent is basically customer service and in charge of handling emergencies.” The thought hit us at the same time. “Station agents direct evacuations and have all the emergency exits and escape routes from the tunnels mapped out.”

  “This is about orchestrating the perfect getaway,” I said.

  “And they did, didn’t they?” Brad cocked an eyebrow at me. “But that was a dry run. They want to use the tunnels to pull off the real thing.” He turned back to the map and his list of possible targets. “Wherever they plan to strike must be close to the subway or one of the access tunnels.”

  “Or they plan on hitting one of the hubs. The combination of high-end shops and subway access would make it ideal, if they could find a way to escape without getting stopped at the next station.” I scanned the transcript again. LockBox had contracts with most of the high-end shops at several of the hubs, even some of the shops at the Oculus. “They could jack the truck, empty it out, and use one of the emergency evacuation plans to escape.”

  “Or one of the old tunnels that’s no longer in use.” He jerked his chin at my computer. “Any idea how much one of the LockBox trucks would have by the time they reached the end of the line?”

  “It varies based on the day, but at least fifty, possibly seventy-five million.”

  “That has to be it. But how exactly would the killers cart it away?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they would drop the locked boxes down one of the manhole covers and recover them later.”

  “If they pick the wrong manhole, it’d end up in the sewers or washed out to sea,” Brad said.

  “Maybe that’s why they wanted to speak to the station agent.” Unfortunately, we didn’t know if they had taken anything from her booth or if they’d gotten additional intel. “Unfortunately, this is nothing more than speculation. We have no proof. We have nothing, except loads of farfetched conjecture.”

  Brad shrugged. “On the bright side, that’s not our problem. That’s Voletek’s.”

  Thirty-two

  “How long are we supposed to wait?” Diego asked. “She cut me. Eventually, the cops are going to connect me to the liquor store.”

  “You didn’t murder her.” Carter rocked back and forth on the edge of the double bed. “I did.”

  “I was there. It doesn’t matter if I pulled the trigger or not, it’s felony murder. And she’s a cop. They won’t care who killed her. They’ll come for all of us.” Diego turned to the third man. “We need to grab as much cash as we can and go. The longer we wait, the more likely it is they’ll find us.”

  The third man hung the last uniform on a hanger and closed the closet door. “We wait as long as it takes. The news hasn’t mentioned anything about it, which means the cops are still investigating. They probably don’t have any idea what’s going on. If they did, they’d be asking for people to call in tips or they’d already have your face plastered on every wanted poster in the state.”

  “I need a drink.” Diego opened the mini fridge and took out a bottle of bourbon. He wanted whiskey, but this would do for now. “Just tell me again when we’re moving on the truck.”

  “We have to wait. It should arrive on schedule. So we stick to the schedule. Changing the play is what got us into trouble in the first place.” The third man glared at his two accomplices. “If things had gone down the way they were supposed to, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

  “That’s not my fault,” Carter said. “I had nothing to do with that.”

  The third man stormed toward him. “You keep saying that. It makes me think you got something to hide.”

  “I-I don’t.” Carter swallowed the bile that rose in his throat, but that wasn’t enough. He got up and ran into the bathroom where he proceeded to heave.

  “Jesus,” the third man shook his head, “what is wrong with that guy? He needs to grow a pair.”

  “This isn’t his life,” Diego said. “He’s not like us. We shouldn’t have involved h
im.”

  “You’re the one who said he could handle it. That he deserved to be a part of this.”

  Diego downed a shot. “Hey, man, if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have gotten any of that intel. We wouldn’t have known about the night watchman or the uniforms or the trucks. His hard work is what got us to this point. He deserved to get a piece for providing us the intel.”

  “His intel is why we’re in this fucking mess.”

  “Is this a mess? Or is this what you wanted all along?” Diego poured another shot and knocked it back. “Admit it, you got off on watching that cop bleed out.”

  “So? What’s your point?”

  “Do you even care about the cash? That’s why I’m doing this and why Carter agreed to go along with the plan. But you promised him no one would get hurt.”

  “And you knew that was bullshit from the start.”

  “Yeah, but,” Diego shook his head, “you’re enjoying it a bit too much.”

  “They deserve to pay. You know what they did to me. It’s about time I get even.”

  * * *

  “Liv?”

  “Hmm?” I opened one eye, surprised to find Gunnie curled up in a ball on the couch beside me.

  “I have to sleep there. I don’t need a dog on my bed,” Brad said.

  I moved my arm from where it had been resting on top of the puppy and winced. “But he’s the perfect size to keep the pressure off my shoulder and neck. Plus, it’s my couch. You really should go home and get some sleep in an actual bed.”

  “Like you’re doing?”

  I sat up, and Gunnie let out a little grunt, wiggling his body backward to lie in the warm spot my shift in position created. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was just resting my eyes.”

  “And drooling on my pillow.”

  “Sorry.” I wiped the corner of my mouth and flipped the top pillow over to hide the evidence. “I’ll get you a new pillowcase.”

  He waved his hand dismissively at it. “At least it was your drool and not the dog’s.”

  “Did anything pan out on our theory?” I stared at the whiteboard, but Brad had flipped it back to the profiles. “What did Voletek say?”