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

his shoulder. “How about Ellie? Does she know you better than I do?”

“Are you trying to ask me something?”

“You know what I’m asking.”

Fennel gave me the evil eye. “Let’s check out back. That’s where the disarm code had been entered. I want to see the setup. Chambliss thinks the killer might have come in from the back and left through the front. Ellie found several sets of footprints near the rear gate. It could lead to something.”

“Muggers don’t usually lie in wait.”

“Maybe it was a slow night.”

We went through the alley, which opened behind the building and crossed to the remote-controlled gate. Two security cameras stood watch over the back of the building. One was posted on the wall, perpendicular to the gate, and the other covered the two double doors that led into the back of Star Cleaners. A patrol officer monitored the back while another crime scene tech dusted for prints and collected trace evidence.

“Have you pulled security footage yet?” Fennel pushed his jacket aside to expose his badge to the unfamiliar officer.

“Yeah, but I doubt you’ll get much. The cameras have been sprayed with some kind of oil,” the officer said.

The CSU tech didn’t even bother looking in our direction before chiming in, “My guess is the perp used cooking spray. It’s cheap, easy to find, and did a hell of a number on the lens.”

“What else did you find?” Fennel asked.

While they went over the rest of the details, I studied the tight walls, barely spread far enough to accommodate the delivery van. Frankly, being back here was making me claustrophobic. So instead, I focused my attention on the conversation, but something didn’t make sense. “Do you think the killer came in through the back?”

“That’s what the cameras would suggest,” the tech said. “He probably followed the guard inside after he entered the code.”

“And that’s the panel where the disarm code was entered.” Fennel jerked his chin toward the number pad beside the double doors. “Did you print it?”

“It’s smudged too badly. We didn’t get anything usable.”

“But if the killer came in through the back, who broke the front door?” I asked.

“Maybe he went out that way,” the uniformed officer suggested, parroting the sergeant’s theory.

Fennel chewed on the inside of his lip. “Most of the glass landed on the inside. That means he broke the glass door from outside the shop. We could be dealing with more than one attacker.”

“Gardner could have been in on it and got double-crossed. Or something else went down, and he got caught in the crossfire.” I stared at the keypad. “We need to determine who used that panel to enter the disarm code.”

Fennel reached for the folded sheet of paper. “Well, we got a list.”

Three

Five names were on the list. Four, if we excluded Arthur Lee. “This can’t be everyone.”

“It isn’t,” Brad said as he drove toward the first person’s home address. “Moonlight Security installed the system. They must have the disarm codes too. And who knows how many people that might include.”

“Great.” I flipped down the visor and checked to make sure my ponytail was smooth.

“And it doesn’t include the people these people told. We might have to spend the entire day hunting down the person who entered the code, and it could be for nothing. We don’t even know if that’s how the killer got inside.”

I gave my partner a look. “Why are you causing trouble? Can’t some things be easy?”

“Me?” He let out a snort. “You started it. I’m just doing my job. I don’t want Jonathan Gardner’s killer to get away with murder. So we’re going to find this guy or girl or team. Whoever they may be.”

“Okay.” I rubbed a hand down my face and studied the list of employees, current and former. “This is a lot of turnover for a dry cleaner’s. Half of these people don’t work for Star Cleaners anymore.”

“Red flag?” Brad asked.

“Possibly.”

A yellow coupe pulled out of a space a few spots away, and Brad parked in the now empty space. “Perfect timing.”

I looked at the clock on the dash. “Not really. The world’s on its way to work and school.” I hated early mornings.

“Can’t we at least celebrate the little things? This job’s hard enough. You don’t have to be so cynical about everything.” He winked at me and climbed out of the car.

I followed him down the sidewalk and up the steps to a fourth floor walkup. He knocked on the door and waited. Thirty seconds later, the front door opened a few inches, the chain holding it in place.

“Ms. Rivera?” Brad asked.

“Yes? May I help you?”

“We’re the police, ma’am. I’m Detective Fennel, and this is Detective DeMarco. We just have a few questions. May we come inside?”

“Questions?”

“About Star Cleaners,” Fennel said. “Please, it’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Catelyn Rivera closed the door, removed the chain, and pushed the door wide to allow us to enter. Her studio apartment didn’t hide any secrets. “I don’t work for Mr. Lee anymore. I quit three days ago.”

“May I ask why?” I watched her cross the room and pour a cup of coffee while placing a frozen waffle in the toaster. My stomach growled, surprising me. After visiting the crime scene, I thought I had lost my appetite.

“Mr. Lee’s an asshole.” She opened the fridge and pulled out some jam. When the waffle popped, she flipped it over and pushed it back into the toaster. “He pays minimum wage. No benefits. No nothing. But he acts like he’s doing me some huge favor by letting me work there. Like it’s a privilege instead of one step above slave labor. I told him I couldn’t work Tuesdays or Thursdays. I have class those days, but he didn’t care. He thought