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

had someone fill in and told him the code. But she’d never confess to sharing it. She’d lose her job. Then again, Arthur Lee found the body. When the cops arrived, he was inside the shop. He could have done it.”

“Okay, what’s his motive?” I asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just something else to consider.”

“Maybe we need to treat this like a robbery because, right now, that’s what it looks like.” Except I wasn’t sure.

“Fine, but once we finish up with Star Cleaners’ employees, we move on to Jonathan Gardner. Someone killed him, Liv. And I’m guessing it had more to do with him than the money in the register.”

Four

“Who is it?” the third man asked.

Carter peered through the peephole. “Shit. It’s the cops. They found us. How the hell did they find us?”

“Easy, man. Just breathe.” Diego put a hand on Carter’s shoulder. “It might not have anything to do with us. Your roomie had a party last night. Three guys are passed out on the bathroom floor. I bet it’s about that. Your neighbors probably called in a noise complaint. That’s probably all it is.”

“It better be.” The third man grabbed the two duffel bags and peered down the hallway. They couldn’t risk running. The police would catch them on the fire escape. Plus, running would make them look guilty. “Play it cool. Go see what they want. I’ll hide our stash.”

“What they want?” Carter gawked. “You know what they want. You–”

The third man slapped his palm over Carter’s mouth. “That’s right. And if you tell them that, so help me, I will put a bullet through you right now. And then they’ll have to investigate two murders. You got it?”

Diego scowled. “Easy. Carter’s just paranoid.”

“Paranoid?” Carter put out the joint and spun in a circle, looking for a place to hide it. “This isn’t paranoid.” He pointed emphatically at the door.

“Don’t freak out.” Diego took the joint from between his fingers. “You’re not thinking straight. All right? Just answer the door and see what they want. Play it cool. Tell them you were with Mike all night. No one’s going to question it. You were there, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I left after an hour to meet you guys.”

“No,” the third man insisted, “you were with them the entire time. If the cops ask you something, just say you don’t remember because you were drunk or high. It doesn’t matter what you say, just as long as you keep your mouth shut about what really happened.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do not let them search the house.” He opened the coat closet and tucked the bags inside. “You blow this, and I’ll blow your fucking head off. And don’t try anything stupid. I’ll be listening to every word you say.”

He opened the first door and entered the room. Two men were passed out on opposite ends of the bed, another one was asleep on the floor. A moment later, Diego joined him.

“At least we showered and changed,” Diego muttered as he kicked off his shoes and found a spot on the ground to get comfortable.

“I don’t trust Carter,” the third man said. “He’s too squirrely. You told me he could handle this. But he’s ready to crack. If he does, it’s on you.”

“He won’t crack.” Diego glanced down at the joint he’d taken from Carter. “He might just need a few more puffs of courage.”

*       *       *

Fennel stopped in front of apartment 602, cocked his head to the side, and glanced at me. “You smell that?”

“Someone’s having a party.”

“This ought to be fun.” He knocked on the door again and waited. “Five bucks says no one answers.”

“You’re on.”

From behind the door, I heard movement and whispers. The light shifted beneath the doorframe, and Fennel and I stepped to the side. The place smelled like marijuana, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have other narcotics inside. And if panicked, people often behaved badly. After a few more whispers, the door creaked open.

“Michael Tolliver?” I asked. The man in the doorway didn’t look anything like the photo I’d seen when checking his social media account on the way here. Michael Tolliver had dark brown hair and an olive complexion. This guy was bleach blond and pale. His red, glassy eyes looked like they belonged to an albino rabbit.

“He’s sleeping.” The man looked down at our badges and guns. “What do you want?”

“And you are?” Fennel asked.

The man rubbed his forehead before wiping his palm on his pants leg. “Carter Moore, Mike’s roommate.” He stepped back, his gaze darting down the hallway. “If you want to talk to him, I can wake him up.”

“Do you mind if we come inside?” Fennel asked.

“No. I mean yes. I mean…what do you want?” Carter rubbed his eyes. A fresh layer of perspiration burst from his pores, giving his skin a slight sheen.

“We just need to speak to your roommate. It’d be best if we do that inside.” Fennel stared at the man.

“So this is about Mike?” Carter asked, nearly breathing a sigh of relief. “Did he do something wrong?”

“We just need to ask him a few questions and find out where he was last night,” I said.

Fennel narrowed his eyes. “Are you on something, sir?”

“Me?” Carter shook his head vehemently. “No…uh…just hungover.” He turned to look behind him. After several seconds, he let go of the door. “I guess it’d be okay if you came inside.”

Fennel and I exchanged a look and cautiously entered the apartment. The smell of pot grew stronger, but I didn’t see a burning joint anywhere in sight. Carter led us into the living room, fidgeting uncontrollably. The man was practically shaking.

“Is something wrong?” Fennel asked. Obviously, our presence had made him uneasy, probably on account of the pot, but I