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

“Did he ever mention anything about his job at Moonlight Security or being a night watchman?”

“Maybe. I don’t think he liked it very much. He got bored. Moonlight isn’t one of the premier companies, but it was a paycheck. I teased him about guarding people’s dirty clothes and having to protect other company’s security uniforms. But he knew I was just joking.”

“So anybody you played with or against online could have heard you?” Fennel asked.

“I guess.” Tolliver picked up one of the games and read the back of the box. “We mostly talked smack to one another and the other side, but I didn’t think any of us ever took it seriously. It was just fun. Y’know, the usual ribbing.”

“All right, thanks for your time.” Fennel nodded at the box in Tolliver’s hand. “Is that the game you usually played? Did you ever play any others?”

“Nope, just this one.”

Fennel nodded. “When do you go back to work?”

“Mr. Lee wants me there on Monday, but I don’t know. I had to beg for this coming Friday and the weekend off, so I don’t think he’d like it if I ask for more time, especially since he’s already short-staffed since Catelyn quit and Guy’s on vacation.” Tolliver internally debated with himself for a few more seconds before shaking it off and acknowledging us. “Lately, it just seems Star Cleaners is pretty toxic.”

I asked a few quick questions about the chemicals and Mr. Lee’s fears, but Michael Tolliver didn’t have anything to add. Fennel and I let ourselves out. “You figured something out,” I said.

My partner tried not to look smug. “I can’t be sure, but if the guys online gave Gardner a good ribbing, anyone playing with them or against them heard it. That’s how the communications work on that game. You can talk to your teammates on a private channel or you can talk openly to mess with the other side or make friends or whatever.”

“That broadens the possibilities.”

“It sure does.”

We’d just gotten back into the car when Fennel’s phone rang. He checked the number and hit answer, identifying himself. “That was quick. Are you sure?”

I waited, wondering what was going on.

“And it matches?” He nodded a few times, even though the caller couldn’t see him. “Thanks for letting me know. I’m not sure it helps, but it’s something.” He hung up, frowning.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s not cooking oil. It’s,” he made a face, “I don’t know what it is. Ellie said it was a mix of commercial synthetic grease spray, CBD oil, and menthol.”

“Synthetic grease?”

“The stuff that comes in a spray bottle. It can be used for just about anything with high torque and high temperatures.”

“Like?”

“Carrying heavy loads.”

“Like armored trucks?”

“Possibly.”

“That’s what was sprayed on the camera lens?”

“Yep, but Ellie said only the CBD and menthol mixture was found on the window, not the camera.”

“Okay, but we’re assuming it’s the same source. What does synthetic grease have to do with CBD oil and menthol?”

“I’m not sure. The dispensary probably sells CBD oil,” Fennel suggested.

“But it was on the killer’s hands or, rather, his gloves. That’s how it got transferred to the window, right? So he pressed his hands against the window to see in, and those substances were on the outside of his gloves. Menthol and CBD would be in muscle creams or rubs.”

“Go on,” Fennel said, fascinated by my thought process.

“So the guy could have an injury or arthritis. He used the rub, then put on his gloves, but some of the cream transferred from his skin to his gloves. Then he sprayed the cameras with the grease.”

“But those sprays go everywhere. Okay. That’s something. Should we swing by the dispensary again?”

“Why? CBD oil is everywhere. It doesn’t mean the killer got it from the dispensary, and honestly, I don’t think a customer would risk walking in disguised as a guard.”

“But that could be why the owner stopped the thieves. He recognized one of them.”

“Except we’ll never know, unless we find something in their records.” Today had turned me into a defeatist. “We need a look at the dispensary’s computer and receipts. And we’ll have to go through their customer database. To make a purchase, the store had to collect the customer’s information. If you’re right that the killer shopped at the same dispensary, then we just need to find a person who bought CBD oil and works with high torque and temperatures.”

“Easy peasy,” Fennel said sarcastically, heading back to the precinct.

Except it wasn’t. Since Voletek and Lisco had been assigned to assist on our case, I hoped they’d already taken a look at the customer list, but they hadn’t.

“I don’t know, Brad.” I leaned back in the chair and looked around the empty conference table. Voletek and Lisco left twenty minutes ago, and the techs had abandoned us at shift change. “It doesn’t feel right.” I picked up the chemical breakdown of the compound Ellie swabbed off the front window at Star Cleaners. “This looks like a prescription cream or even something over the counter, but I don’t see anything like that for sale at the dispensary. This probably came from a pharmacy.”

“All right, we’ll hold off until the morning and contact a pharmacist to see if we can ID the product. Even if it’s a generic, we might be able to pull something.”

“Doubtful.” With privacy laws, I didn’t think we’d be able to reverse engineer a suspect list based on a prescription cream, but we could probably use that to pin down a suspect once we had one, if we ever had one. I rubbed my temples.

“We need a fresh set of eyes to look at these facts. Maybe a good night’s sleep will help.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” My eye twitched, and I shoved the crime scene photos into