High Risk by G.K. Parks (thriller book recommendations txt) 📗

“Large, organic dark roast.”

“Make that two.” Brad reached into his pocket for his wallet.

The barista noticed his badge and shook her head. “It’s on the house.”

“No, I insist.” Brad paid for our coffees and picked up a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans and read the ingredients on the back. “And two bags of these.” He handed her another fifteen dollars. “Keep the change.”

We went to the end of the counter to wait for our order, and Brad handed me one of the bags. “You said you wanted chocolate and coffee.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

“Since you’re into wish fulfillment today, are you going to get answers too?” I tore open the candy and offered him some, but he shook his head and opened his own bag. He shook a few into his mouth and crunched on them.

“That’s the plan.”

I smiled. “I like it.” I had eaten three by the time our drinks were ready. Brad shook two packets of raw sugar into his and gave it a stir. Most days, I drank mine black, but today wasn’t most days. So I followed suit and added a splash of almond milk, ignoring the amused snort that came from my partner. “You said you wouldn’t tell Emma.”

“My lips are sealed.”

We stepped back into the morning light, the weight of the last few hours crushing me beneath it. “I don’t think Jonathan Gardner was killed for personal reasons, but we should look into Mary Winsor and her new boyfriend, just in case.”

“We should also run down Gardner’s gaming buddies. Some people can get really competitive with these online games. They spend hundreds of hours building up their characters, so they get testy when things don’t go the way they want.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think Mr. Golden would have mentioned something like that happening?” I asked.

“Maybe. Or Gardner did something wrong and screwed one of his teammates or shot his friend’s character. I’ve lost many online campaigns due to friendly fire.”

“Now you’re making this sound like some military op.”

“They aren’t that dissimilar, except of course for the obvious differences. Unless that’s why Gardner’s dead. One of his friends might have shot him as payback, in real life.”

“I don’t know.”

Brad shrugged. “My gut says that’s not what happened either, but we leave no stone unturned.”

“When we get back to the precinct, I’ll ask Mac to look into it.”

“Laura Mackenzie? Really?”

“Why? What’s wrong with her? She’s the best tech the department has and the least utilized.”

“Yeah, but you let a gamer near a game, and it’ll be three days before she surfaces.”

“Puh-lease.” I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee, wondering if I could take it into the office building or if they strictly enforced the no food and beverage policy stenciled on the front door. “Mac’s a professional.” I gave him a sideways look. “But you seem to know a lot about this. I’m guessing that means I shouldn’t let you anywhere near this unless I want to work the case on my own.”

“Don’t worry, Liv. I’m a reformed addict. I gave up the first person shooters when I got back stateside. Now it’s just car racing and third person adventure games. Not that I have much time for any of that.” He nudged my shoulder. “You keep me busy.”

“It’s not me. It’s the job.”

“Sure, sure.” He watched a few people through the front window while he finished his coffee. Then he tossed the paper cup into the bin. I took a final sip and followed suit, amused to see a phone number scribbled on the side of his cup. “Are you sure you don’t need that?” I pointed at it.

Brad glanced down. “Nah.”

“She was cute.”

“I’m good, thanks.” He waited for me to let it go. Then he rubbed his hands together. “All right. You wanted coffee, chocolate, and answers. Let’s see if I can go three for three.”

We entered the lobby, checked the directory, and went up two floors to Moonlight Security. The frosted glass door and the stenciling reminded me more of a private eye’s office from a noir flick than any security firm I’d ever seen. Brad opened the door, glancing up when the bell dinged above us.

The receptionist behind the pressed-wood desk popped her gum and smiled. “What can I do for you?”

“Police.” My partner held out his badge.

She climbed out of the chair and leaned over the counter, her cleavage spilling out from the top three opened buttons of her blouse. “Detective,” she nodded to herself, “nice.” She glanced at me, but I didn’t hold out my badge. I didn’t need to see any more of her cleavage. She was young and perky and had probably used that trick to get out of several speeding tickets.

“We need to speak to whoever’s in charge,” I said.

“The big boss isn’t in. But you can speak to my supervisor,” she turned her attention to Brad, “or you can leave me your number. I’ll have him call you. Or I could call you.”

What was up with these women today? Jeez. Brad was right. He could probably go three for three.

“Where can I find your supervisor?” I asked.

She pointed to an open door that led into a back office.

“Thanks.” Without waiting for an invitation, I headed for the office. Brad and I had done this enough times that we didn’t have to voice our intentions. I’d start with the supervisor while he convinced the perky twenty-four year old to spill her guts, along with her boobs, about the operation and everything she knew about our vic. Damn, now my internal voice was starting to sound like a hard-boiled detective from the black and white movies. I definitely didn’t need to spend any extra time in this security office.

Shaking