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

me,” the third man vowed. “We just need to get our money and get out of here. That’s been the plan all along. Nothing’s gonna change it. The more heat they apply, the more driven we are to make this happen. So it’s time you pick a side, Carter.” He was the only one who hadn’t killed, which made him a liability and the weak link.

Something in Carter’s frightened blue eyes and his trembling hands gave away his true thoughts, even as he said, “I said I’m in, so I’m in.”

“Then I’m going to need you to prove it,” the third man replied.

Carter swallowed, perspiration lining his upper lip. “How?”

*       *       *

Brad pushed his chair under the table. “Come on.”

“Where are we going? We’re not finished in here.”

“We need a break.”

“No,” I shook my head vehemently, “they’re not finished yet. You said you were working on a list of possible targets. Let’s go over those again. Since we have no idea who they are, we have to figure out what their next move is. It’s our only shot at stopping them. We can’t exactly triangulate their locations with this mess.” I pointed at the map with its random smattering of points of interest. There was no pattern or rhyme or reason to their movements.

“And we will, but you’re aggravated and bitchy. We need to take a moment to regroup.” He cocked his head to the side. “Let’s get something to eat. I could use some food for thought, and I’m sure you could too. After that, we’ll swing by Star Cleaners. Maybe we’ll notice something we missed before. We need fresh eyes. Everything about yesterday’s break-in has changed. That means we need to reassess.”

Reluctantly, I pushed my chair in. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Know exactly what to say when I know this is tearing you up as much as it is me.”

He snorted. “We take turns getting frustrated and obnoxious about it. This asshole shot at you. That means you get to be the emotionally unstable one today.” Something sinister passed behind Brad’s eyes. “But he better not try that again.” He slipped into his coat and handed me my jacket off the back of my chair. “However, I have not forgotten you crashed my softball game or that I did not get to enjoy my championship breakfast afterward. So I want brunch.”

“Brunch?” I pointed at my watch. “It’s dinnertime.”

“Fine, breakfast for dinner. Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, but you better not pick one of those places that puts pancake batter in their omelets or I’ll be very unhappy.”

“You could pretend you’re undercover and just eat it.”

“No way, buddy. I already had one man offer me grains for breakfast. We’re not doing that again.”

Brad palmed a set of keys to one of the unmarked cruisers, silently asking if he could drive. Truthfully, I doubted I could concentrate on the road with all the wayward thoughts about the case floating through my mind. “What if it’s almond flour pancake batter? You good with that?”

I nodded.

“So who tried to feed you breakfast?”

“No one.”

“C’mon, Liv, you just said–”

“I know. It was just some guy I spoke to this morning. He tried to be charming by offering me breakfast. It didn’t go over the way he thought.”

“Jake?”

“Hell no. He knows better.”

“He should.” From Brad’s tone, I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but I let it go. Neither of us had the energy to continue the conversation we had started hours ago before the shit hit the fan.

Ten minutes later, Brad found a place and parked the car. “Is Nana’s okay?” He pointed to the diner.

“It’s great. They know us.” Which meant they didn’t mind our picky ordering. Regardless of what anyone said, my partner was just as difficult to please as I was. Maybe more, since he had quite a few food aversions, thanks to a bad batch of MREs and too many tours in the Middle East. Of course, partnering with me and spending lots of time with Emma had only exacerbated the situation.

We entered the diner to find a few senior citizens enjoying the early bird special. But most of the tables were empty, so we took up our preferred spot in the back corner. Since there were no windows directly beside the table, I sat with my back against one wall, and Brad sat beside me with his back against the other.

“Hey, there are my two favorite customers. I haven’t seen you in a while.” Beatrice handed us the laminated menus and leaned in. “I saw the news today. Is it just me, or is it getting crazy out there?”

“Crazy,” I mumbled.

“Do you know what you want, or do you need a minute?” She put two water glasses down in front of us.

“Liv?” Brad asked.

“I’ll have the southwest omelet with the free-range grilled chicken. No cheese. No sour cream. And the almond flour strawberry banana pancakes.”

Beatrice scribbled it down on her pad. “And for you?”

“Ooh, that sounds good. Same pancakes, but I want the grass-fed steak with three eggs. Scrambled.”

“Do you want the hash browns that come with it?”

“Yes, with onions.” Brad handed her the menus.

“Okay. Coming right up.” She put two mugs down on the table and poured us coffee without asking since she knew that’s what we’d want.

After breakfast or dinner, whatever it was, which consisted of my omelet and eating the strawberries and bananas off a stack of pancakes while watching Brad clean his plate and the remaining pancakes I left on mine, we headed to Star Cleaners.

Despite the official police tape and the cardboard covering the broken door, there were no obvious signs of what occurred yesterday morning. Mr. Lee planned to open up tomorrow afternoon, after the glass