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

what you’re hiding from me. I’m not buying your story, gentlemen.”

“Liv, now’s not the time. Not after that episode,” Brad said.

“He’s right, princess.”

I glared at Jake. “What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Well, you did almost faint. That’s a very princess-like thing to do.”

“Voletek,” I growled, “let me see it.”

“It’s mostly crime scene photos.” Jake and Brad exchanged a look.

“I have a right to know what happened to me. Please.” I held out my hand, unwilling to take no for an answer.

Brad blew out a breath. It was clear he didn’t think this was a good idea, but he nodded, and Jake handed over the folder.

Thirty

“I wish I’d been there to protect you.” Brad swallowed uncomfortably but forced himself to look at the photos with me. He slipped his hand underneath the table to hide the tremor from our fellow homicide detective.

“That’s not your job,” I said.

“Yes, it is. I’m your partner. I won’t let you down again. I’ve done it too many times already.”

Jake circled the table. “We didn’t pull any prints from the security panel. The camera hadn’t been tampered with. With all the broken bottles and disturbed shelves, it’s hard to tell exactly what went down, besides one hell of a fight. You sure can hold your own.”

“That’s what makes me a DeMarco.”

“Roberts found you here. Your gun was here. Only one bullet was missing, and we found it lodged here.” Jake spread a few of the photos out and pointed to a spot near the bottom of the counter. “Your statement goes along with our findings. You shot once, and it scared them away.”

“I hit Diego with a bottle.” I shuffled the photos around. “We were near the front door. Somewhere around here.”

“Okay.” Jake handed Brad the evidence list. “Forensics said they found two blood samples that didn’t belong to Liv.”

“One was right here.” Brad pointed to a close-up of a broken piece of glass. “That’s not wine. That’s blood.”

“Did we get DNA?” I asked. “Or was it too degraded by the alcohol?”

“It’s still processing,” Brad said. “At least it was the last I heard.”

“Ellie?” I asked.

Brad shook his head. “No. Winston had me removed from everything. She won’t call me with any updates.”

“Son of a bitch.” I understood why, but I didn’t like it. “This was our case. We’ve been dealing with it since the call came in. You should be on top of this.” I met Jake’s eyes. “No offense.”

He held up his palms. “None taken, and for the record, I concur. The LT’s a stickler. You’re one of ours. He should be willing to compromise and take help from wherever he can get it.”

“What about Captain Grayson?” Brad asked. “Liv’s his goddaughter. I’m sure he’s got everyone from our old unit on this.”

“I’m sure he does.” Jake rubbed the scruff on his face. As usual, he looked like he should be working the streets instead of hanging out behind a desk. “But Lisco and I were assigned this. So it’s our show, I guess. Except I want this stopped as soon as possible, which is why I came here.”

“That’s because I’m the best,” I teased.

Jake winked. “I bet you are.”

Brad cleared his throat. “Anyway, we need to find what connects the unsubs to that liquor store. The owner said he’s seen the killer before. But he didn’t go into details. Is the killer a frequent flyer?”

“I don’t know,” Jake said.

“Didn’t you speak to him?” I asked.

“Yeah, but you met the guy. He’s not what you’d call cooperative.”

“Yeah.” But no matter how I thought about it, I kept reaching the same conclusion. “There’s no way the unsubs would have known I’d be there. Gravelly Voice was surprised. He asked me if I was the bitch from the subway.” A flash of something important ran through my mind, but it was gone before I could latch on to it.

“So he recognized you,” Brad said. From the look on his face, I didn’t want to know what he was thinking. “You definitely need protection.” He reached for his phone. “If Winston won’t assign another unit, I bet Grayson will.”

“Stop.” I put my hand over his phone. “Why are you so worried?” But as usual, my partner ignored my question and did what he wanted. He went into the living room and spoke in hushed tones. “What’s his deal?” I asked, realizing Brad had only left my side when other police officers had been right outside.

“You know, Brad. He’s loyal.”

“Try overprotective.”

Jake laughed. “In a past life, I bet he was a German shepherd or a pit bull. Either way, he saw the crime scene photos and flipped out a little. He demanded Winston take action, but when the lieutenant was a little slow on the uptake, Brad pulled the pin. He requested personal leave.”

“And hasn’t left my side since.”

Jake removed the last photo from the folder. This one had been facing the other way, so I couldn’t see it. Slowly, he turned it over, resting one hand on the back of my chair, as if I might need to have someone close by. Scrawled on the floor in my blood was a message:

She’s the first cop to die, but she won’t be the last.

“Jesus.” I grasped the folder in my hands, noting the pool of blood that covered the floor like a bucket of spilled paint. That was my blood. The room spun, and I sucked in a breath. A memory of the gravelly voice making threats, saying he knew what he wanted to do if he had more time, if I hadn’t made such a mess, now made sense. I remembered when he grabbed my belt loops and dragged me toward him. A shiver went through me, and Jake closed the