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

office doesn’t want to risk anything jeopardizing this case. Not with these stakes.”

Officer Roberts returned a few minutes later. “You ready, DeMarco? I’m supposed to escort you back to homicide.”

“Sure.” I nodded to the officer and followed Roberts out of the room. “Hey, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier, but thank you.”

Roberts didn’t even slow on the stairs. “You’re a cop. You bleed blue, just like me.”

“Yeah, but you saved my life. I can’t thank you enough.”

Roberts grunted. We’d crossed paths several times over the years, but he never liked me much. At first, I thought it had to do with my father, but Brad thought it was because Roberts had a misogynistic streak, like a lot of men in the department. “I was just doing my job, DeMarco. And if you’d done yours better, you might not have been in that situation. But you’re okay. And it looks like we’ll get these guys, so I guess it all worked out. Just remember, patrol does a lot more than run errands and fetch your coffee.”

I never asked patrol to bring me coffee, but I let that slide. “Regardless, I owe you.”

He shook his head. “Your partner already thanked me with a bottle of something aged, brown, and fairly expensive.” He stopped at the door to homicide. “Just be careful out there. I don’t like going to cop funerals.”

Brad waited for me near his desk. “Heard you did good down there.”

“Yep.”

“You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Y’never know.” He jerked his chin toward the conference room. “Voletek and Lisco want to go over everything that happened at 24/7 Spirits again. They’re hoping they can use your firsthand account to play on Carter Moore’s emotions. If that doesn’t fly, they’ll take a crack at Diego Eisner.”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to stay off the LT’s shit list.”

“I think it’s too late for that.”

“You better get in there unless you want to join me as persona non grata.”

After going over everything for what felt like the millionth time, Detectives Voletek and Lisco entered the interrogation room. Lt. Winston stood beside me on the other side of the two way glass while we watched them go over the information and potential charges with Carter and his council. I kept my eyes glued to what was happening inside the interrogation room, but Winston hadn’t even bothered to face the glass. Instead, he just stared at me.

“You feel like having a conversation, DeMarco? Because I’d love to know what you were doing at that liquor store while off duty at that time of night.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He sipped his coffee. “How’d you know they’d be there?”

“I didn’t.”

“But they were. And I have a hard time believing that was purely coincidental.”

“Of course it wasn’t coincidental,” I fought to hold my tone in check, “sir. Diego Eisner’s been there before. I’d bet my badge on it. That’s his preferred location. I just don’t know why.”

“According to the liquor store owner, our suspect is not a regular. He only recalls seeing him once before, and that’s from the morning in question.”

“No, he’s been there before.”

“How do you know that, DeMarco? Where’s your proof?”

“I don’t have any.”

“And yet you were so convinced of this fact that you drove there in the middle of the night to question the store owner again.”

“I was right, wasn’t I? Diego was there. They were all there, lieutenant.”

“But how did you know that?”

“I didn’t. If I did, I would have waited for backup. I might have even called in tactical.” I looked away from the window, realizing Winston really didn’t understand. “They used Jonathan Gardner’s credit card at that liquor store a few minutes after they killed him. It had to be significant. It’s the only thing they’ve done that hasn’t made sense. Everything else has gone from point A to point B. But that was just a random unconnected event. Why do it?”

“So why did they do it?”

“I don’t know. Originally, Fennel and I thought it might have been to confuse us or the timeline surrounding Gardner’s murder. But that never quite fit. After what happened,” I touched the bandage on my neck, realizing I hadn’t changed it this morning, “and the threat Tarelli left and the theft of the police uniforms, I think he wanted to get his hands on some cops when they got off shift. I think that might have been the goal.”

“But since he couldn’t get his hands on any first responders that day, he bought a bottle of hooch to celebrate?”

“I guess.”

“Which he?” Winston asked. “Tarelli’s the brains behind this. He’s the violent killer, right? But Diego’s the one who we found at a different liquor store last night. And the owner of 24/7 Spirits identified Diego as the man who bought the bottle of Jack and threatened his life. So what am I missing here? Do we have it wrong? Are you sure Tarelli has the bloodlust and not Diego?”

“The man who wanted me dead didn’t sound like Diego Eisner. He had a gravelly voice and a bad knee. Diego has neither.” I turned back to the glass. “Did you drug test them?”

“Carter came back positive for marijuana. Alcohol too.”

“And Diego?”

“Alcohol.”

“Nothing else?”

“No.”

“That might be it.”

“What’s it?”

I shook my head and left the observation room. “Brad,” I went to my desk, finding the computer off and a dozen or so get well cards stacked in the center, “you wanted to know where that CBD oil came from. Did you ever find out?”

“It wasn’t a prescription. The proportions were off. Ellie thinks it might have been a homemade concoction.” He lowered his voice. “Emma’s pharmacist friend said the same thing.”

“Thanks.” I turned to head back to the observation room, shaking off the unexpected dizziness.