High Risk Read online

  Banging my head against the desk seemed like a wonderful idea, but I didn’t want the other members in my unit to think I was crazy. They didn’t know me that well, and they might get the wrong idea. Instead, I pushed my chair back and rested my forehead on the edge of the desk, waiting for brilliance to strike.

  “Hey, princess,” Detective Jake Voletek dropped into Brad’s empty chair, “where’s your other half?”

  “Strip club. And I told you not to call me that.”

  Voletek laughed, thinking it was a joke. “You guys always catch the best cases.”

  “No, we don’t.” I sat up and pushed the case file toward him. “We got a dead security guard and an empty cash register.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The guard worked at the strip club?”

  “No, Jake, he worked at a dry cleaner’s.”

  “Okay, now I know you’re yanking my chain.” Voletek read the jacket. “Sorry, I thought you were joking.”

  “No, and we’re having a lousy time accepting the obvious motive. The perp also stole the ticket pad and the cash from our victim’s wallet.” I thought for a moment and reached for the phone. Gardner’s wallet had been emptied except for his gym membership. I needed to know if his debit or credit cards had been used since the murder.

  The voice on the other end didn’t seem surprised to hear from me. “I was just about to notify you, Detective DeMarco. We ran Jonathan Gardner’s financial report. There haven’t been any charges since we found the body and started monitoring his financial activity, but the last charge came in at 5:17 a.m.”

  “Where?”

  “A twenty-four hour liquor store, 24/7 Spirits.” He gave me the address.

  “Thanks.” I tore off the sheet and slipped into my jacket.

  Voletek quirked an eyebrow. “Where are you going?”

  “On a tequila run.”

  “Your partner’s at a strip club, and you’re going out for tequila. Are you looking to get into trouble?”

  “Not me, but someone is.”

  Ten

  “I don’t know.” The clerk remained behind the counter with his arms folded across his chest. “It was some guy.”

  “Was he alone?” I asked.

  The clerk shrugged.

  “It’s a simple question, sir.”

  “One guy came to the counter to pay for his purchase. He might have had someone else with him. I didn’t pay much attention.”

  “But you were here at five o’clock this morning?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re still here?” That didn’t make much sense.

  “So?”

  I looked around for obvious violations. “Do you card?”

  “Yeah, minors or people who might pass for minors. This guy, he was no minor.”

  “Okay, so what did he look like?”

  “He was just some guy. Some old guy.”

  “Old, great. How old?”

  The clerk picked at something stuck between his back teeth. “Dunno. Forty?”

  “So not that old. And you still didn’t card him.”

  “He’s over the legal age.”

  “What about your security camera?” The red light in the corner remained on. It could have gotten a look at our killer.

  “You want to see what’s on it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He pulled a step stool from beneath the counter and climbed up to the camera. A moment later, he pulled it down. It didn’t connect to anything. “Good luck.”

  I checked, but the internal storage only saved a few minutes of data. It re-recorded on a continuous loop. Unless someone manually stopped the recording, it was useless. “You’re joking. What good is this?”

  “The red light on the front is a great theft deterrent. I haven’t had a problem since I installed it.”

  “You didn’t happen to get it from Moonlight Security, did you?”

  The clerk scoffed. “I ordered it on the internet.”

  Blowing out a breath, I wondered if I could arrest him for obstruction, but I couldn’t prove he remembered anything. And it wasn’t a crime to be unhelpful. “Okay, let’s go over this one more time. A man came in here at five o’clock this morning to purchase what?”

  “Whiskey.”

  “What did he look like?”

  The clerk glared at me. “Like a guy, probably in his forties. He paid with a credit card.”

  “Why didn’t you ask for ID when he used his card?”

  “Because he swiped it through the reader. I didn’t even touch it.” He held up his palms. “Not my business. Not my property.”

  “So he touched the card reader?”

  “Yep.”

  All right, now I was getting somewhere. CSU might have luck pulling his prints. I stared down at the faded buttons and hanging pen.

  “Don’t waste your time. I wiped it down at end of shift, along with the counter. I’m sure Shelly did the same thing when her shift ended.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Four.”

  “Your shift ended at four a.m.?”

  “No, Shelly went home at four this afternoon. My shift ended at seven a.m. I’m part owner, so I work the overnight and stock. Aside from a couple of regulars, no one usually stops by in the middle of the night. But business picks up at shift change, and we stay busy until almost eight.” He looked down at my badge. “A lot of first responders drop by after working graveyard. They probably need a little something to help them sleep.”

  “Was anyone else in the store at 5:17 this morning?”

  He sighed. “I dunno. It’s work. I do my job, ring up customers, card the ones I have to, and that’s that.”

  I stared at the register. “Don’t you have to enter a birthdate in order for the transaction to complete?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay, great. So what was this guy’s birthdate?”

  “You gonna buy him a card?”

  I hated unhelpful civilians. “Yep, so I need to know his birthday. And before you say you don’t remember, I’m sure it must get recorded somewhere.”

  He stared at the counter. “Unless you have a warrant or something, I’m done cooperating. You have no reason to harass me, and I have work to do.”

  “You just enter the same date for everyone, don’t you?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. I took a step back, suddenly developing a terrible headache. “Look, the guy who bought a bottle of Jack from you this morning killed someone for no reason. He broke into a place, emptied the register, and killed a guy. I don’t want that to happen again. You don’t want to be his next victim, do you?”

  “Nice try, but I don’t know anything. I don’t remember him, and you can’t prove that I do. I mind my business. I don’t get involved. I don’t look for trouble. Don’t bring trouble to me.”

  Once I got back to the car, I called Fennel to update him on the situation. While we spoke, I watched the clerk mount the camera back on the wall. So much for high-tech security measures. No wonder Moonlight Security had branched out.

  “Dammit,” Fennel cursed. “The strip club was also a bust. The girls remembered Michael Tolliver. He left with his friends. The bouncer even saw him get into the car with his buddies once it pulled up. He didn’t kill Jonathan Gardner.”

  “At least that’s one name off our list.”

  “We have a list?” Fennel asked.

  “No, but we could make one and then cross Michael Tolliver’s name off of it.” I looked around. 24/7 Spirits was twenty blocks away from Star Cleaners. It was too far to walk, so how did the killer get here? “Why did he use Gardner’s credit card?” I mused out loud.

  “He probably did it right after he killed him. He must have figured it was safe since we hadn’t found the body yet. Or maybe he wanted to screw with our TOD by making us think Gardner made the purchase.”

  “Perhaps. But for him to choose this liquor store, he must have known there were no secur
ity cameras. He’s been here before. You have the address, right?”

  Papers ruffled in the background. “Yep.”

  “Okay, see if there are any traffic cams nearby and pull the footage. And contact dispatch and find out what officers walk this beat. They’ll know which shops in the area have security cameras, and they’ll know who to talk to for intel.”

  “All right, I’ll get the ball rolling. Are you heading back to the precinct?”

  I didn’t want to go back to the station since I knew Lt. Winston didn’t like it when we worked beyond end of shift without permission and was liable to tell us to go home. The killer had a plan. Breaking into Star Cleaners and killing Gardner was part of it, so was stopping by 24/7 Spirits to buy a bottle of Jack, and I wouldn’t be able to figure out what that plan was from inside my apartment.

  “Liv?” Fennel asked.

  “Yeah,” I turned the key in the ignition, “I’m on my way.”

  Eleven

  “The cops came here.” Carter ran both hands through his hair, his entire body trembling. “They know. They know what you did.”

  The third man peered down the hall, but Michael Tolliver’s bedroom door remained closed. “Lower your fucking voice. You don’t want to wake up your roommate, or I’ll have to permanently silence him. You get that, right?”

  Carter gulped and rubbed his mouth. He had to get out of here.

  “You need to stop smoking that shit, man. It’s making you paranoid.” Diego sat at the kitchen table, sipping whiskey from a juice glass. “At least the rest of the bachelor party finally cleared out. The last thing we need is more people in our business.” When he signed on to this, Diego knew people might end up dead. He just didn’t realize it’d happen so soon. The police investigation meant they had to be careful. “We should probably clear out too. What do you think?”

  The third man took a deep breath. Unlike the other two, he was stone-cold sober and cool as a cucumber. This is what he planned. He just didn’t think the cops would get their act together this quickly. But they didn’t know anything. They were just covering their bases. Still, he would have preferred them flapping their gums at some donut shop instead of following up with the other Star Cleaners employees. On the bright side, Michael Tolliver had an airtight alibi. That was one of the reasons why he chose last night to strike. Innocent men shouldn’t go to prison.

  “What are you thinking?” Carter asked, cringing when the third man met his eyes. “You know I didn’t tell them anything. You listened to everything they asked and everything I said.”

  “Then why are you so nervous?” The third man took a step closer, watching Carter shrink in on himself. “You said we were cool. Now you’re about to piss yourself. If this is too much for you, tell me. We have sixteen hours until go-time. If I have to replace you, I will.”

  “No.”

  “So you’re in?”

  “I’m…uh…I’m in.” Carter bit his lip.

  “Diego?” the third man asked.

  Diego downed the rest of the whiskey in one gulp. “You know I am. One hundred million dollars here we come.”

  Carter glanced at his friend. That’s why they were doing this. One hundred million split three ways was a hell of a lot of money. He could disappear to someplace where his violent partner couldn’t find him. The money might even make him forget seeing that man’s face explode out of the back of his skull. Or he’d buy enough booze, drugs, and tail to make him forget. Or so he hoped.

  The third man eyed Carter, his unease growing with every jitter. “Until the job’s done, we stick together. I don’t want anyone getting antsy or doing something stupid and getting picked up by the cops.”

  “Yeah, no. That’d be bad,” Carter said, though it was clear his mind was elsewhere.

  Coming back to Carter’s apartment had been stupid enough, but if Michael hadn’t seen his roommate home safe and sound, he would have started calling and texting, which would have led to questions. This was easier. This went along with Carter’s bogus alibi about attending the bachelor party, and since Carter was their connection to Star Cleaners, the third man needed to keep him alive and out of trouble for now. He couldn’t afford for Carter to go blabbing their plan to the first person who asked. But once the job was done, that would no longer be the case.

  He looked at Diego and grinned. By this time tomorrow, everything would be different.

  * * *

  “Sgt. Chambliss said a vehicle was seen driving away from Star Cleaners around the time of the murder. And since we know Jonathan Gardner’s credit card was used at 24/7 Spirits, which is twenty blocks from Star Cleaners, I’m going out on a limb and saying the killer drove there. We’ll need to pull traffic cam footage from outside the liquor store and see if we spot it.”

  “Already done,” Fennel said. “As soon as we got off the phone, I ran with it. No silver sedan with illegal tinting went anywhere near the liquor store during that timeframe. And before you ask, nothing’s turned up yet on the BOLO, but it’s probably just a matter of time. A car like that is gonna stick out.”

  “Dammit.” How could we already be scraping the bottom of the barrel? “What about ballistics?”

  Fennel rubbed his eyes. “Nothing yet. Are you surprised?”

  “Not even a little bit.” I let out a sigh. “Okay, so we don’t know if the gun used to kill Gardner’s been used in any other crimes. That’s not helpful. Did the ME have anything to add?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Fennel reached for the phone. “Let me see what I can find out.”

  I read the intel again, but it was just a jumble. Maybe it was me. I was tired, frustrated, and had the mother of all headaches. Emma would probably tell me it was from eating the entire bag of chocolate covered espresso beans. The caffeine and sugar apparently weren’t good for me. There was a chance she wasn’t wrong, but this felt more like a stress headache. The kind I got when I was missing something.

  “Detective,” a familiar voice called from behind.

  I spun in my chair to find ADA Logan Winters standing behind me. “Dammit.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “You forgot?”

  “Yeah, sorry. We caught a case.” I gestured at the mess of papers on my desk.

  “Do you need to reschedule?” He pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. “I’m free Monday night and for a few hours on Wednesday.” He nodded to my partner, who whispered a few things on the phone. From his posture, it appeared Fennel was in the midst of a social call instead of a work call. “But the court date’s set for Thursday, so Wednesday’s pushing it.”

  Fennel hung up the phone. “Carrie said the prelim suggests cause of death is a fatal gunshot wound to the head. They found some week-old bruises on the guy’s shins and one on his shoulder. That could be something. But he might have been kickboxing or playing soccer. Didn’t he have some photos like that on social media?”

  “Lacrosse,” I said. “Or it could have been field hockey.”

  “Right.” Fennel rocked back in his chair and tossed the baseball in the air. “That would explain it.”

  “Add his teammates to the list.”

  “They’re already on there. He does everything with the same group of guys. If he’s not hanging out with them, he’s hanging out with his neighbors. Guess you can never take the frat out of the guy.” My partner looked pointedly at Winters. “Am I right, counselor?”

  Winters snickered. “What makes you think I was a frat guy?”

  “Your ties.”

  I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh. Fennel glanced at me and winked.

  “Well, I did live in a frat house, but we weren’t the crazy, fun ones. We studied and conducted moot court trials and organized student government.”

  “I didn’t realize that’s how one becomes an expert at beer pong,” Fennel mused.

  Winters smiled. “Anytime you want a rematch, just let me know.” He checked his watch. “Are yo
u about ready, Liv? Or should I set up in the conference room?”

  “At this point, it feels like I may never leave.” But Lt. Winston had told us to go home. Until more evidence was collected and analyzed, there wasn’t much we could do. The rest would have to wait until tomorrow.

  “She’s ready,” Fennel said, earning my patented glare. “You heard the LT. Unless we’re ready to make an arrest, whatever we’re working on has to wait until tomorrow.” Fennel turned off his computer and organized the top of his desk. “So what are you two doing tonight? Hot date? Secret rendezvous?”

  “Actually, I was hoping your lovely partner would agree to dinner,” Winters said, “but you’re welcome to join us.”

  “I don’t want to be a third wheel. Liv could use some TLC.”

  My cheeks turned red from both anger and embarrassment. “It’s not a date,” I hissed. “It’s trial prep. Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you on the roster to testify too?”

  “That’s right,” Winters said. “It’d probably be easier if the three of us went over everything together. We need to go over the facts and your testimonies and make sure the defense can’t hit us with any surprises. C’mon, Brad, dinner’s on me. And if we finish early enough, I’ll let you take me at beer pong.”

  “I can’t tonight,” Fennel said. “I have plans.”

  “With the barista?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Carrie.”

  “Oh. Just now?” I jerked my chin toward his desk phone.

  “No.” Something flitted across his eyes. Normally, he and Carrie didn’t make plans ahead of time. It had always been spur of the moment booty calls. Maybe she wanted to take their “just having fun” to the next level.

  “That explains why you’re dressed like that.”

  “I’m telling you, Liv, this is for you.” Fennel slipped on his jacket and grabbed his keys. “Don’t keep her out too late, Winters. Unlike some people, homicide detectives have to work on Saturdays. And this case is a bitch.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. Well, I would, but Liv would probably shoot me.”