High Risk

by G. K. Parks

  “Tell us about Johnny,” Fennel said. “When did you meet? What does he do? Where does he hang out? Who are his friends?”

  “We met freshman year. We shared a dorm and have been best friends ever since. Johnny used to work as a bartender, but then the manager asked him if he could work as a bouncer instead. So that’s what Johnny did. He liked it okay, but it didn’t pay much. Eventually, he found a job at Moonlight Security. I guess that was two years ago. Most of it was just stupid night watchman shit. He worked in an office building for a while. But these last six months, he’s been reassigned like five times. He hates it. He’s been looking for something else, but he hasn’t found anything yet.” Golden jerked his head to the side, as if the glitch in his brain had resulted in a physical manifestation. “Needless to say, ever since they screwed with his hours and schedule, he hasn’t had much time to hang out with friends. We tend to stay around here. The last time he had a day off, he ran some errands.”

  “What kind of errands?” Fennel asked.

  “Just basic stuff. Getting his oil changed, grocery shopping, that kind of thing.”

  “Does he have a girlfriend?” I asked.

  Golden shook his head. “Mary did a real number on him. He’s sworn off dating for the time being. One of these days, he’ll come around. I keep telling him that. But in the meantime, he still makes a hell of a wingman, if I can ever convince him to grab a beer. Ever since he worked in a bar, he doesn’t exactly enjoy going to them. It’s probably why I hate corndogs and hotdogs and tater tots.” He cringed.

  “Mary?” Fennel flipped his notepad to a new page.

  “Yeah, Mary Winsor. They broke up ten months ago. The heartless bitch. They’d been together for six years, since college. I don’t know what her deal was, other than the fact she’s psycho.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Has Johnny seen her since? Has she contacted him at all?” Fennel asked.

  “No. He tried calling her a couple of times after she broke up with him, but she wouldn’t give him the time of day. She said she had to find herself and she couldn’t do that with him.” He shook his head. “I heard from a friend of a friend that she went to some ashram or temple or something, but then I noticed photos online of Mary in California with some other guy. From the way she was hanging all over him, I don’t think he’s a monk.”

  “Did Johnny know about this?” Fennel asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. But she’s ancient history. He just hasn’t gotten over the heartbreak yet. I told him the best way is to get some. That’ll put everything back in perspective. But I think he was happy with it just being us. No nagging girlfriends or wives. We got it made. This is the good life.” Suddenly, his cheeks turned red and his eyes filled with tears. “God.” He held his fist to his mouth and bit his knuckle. “What am I supposed to do now? He’s my best friend. And now you’re telling me he’s dead.”

  While I attempted to comfort Richard Golden, my partner searched Jonathan Gardner’s bedroom and the rest of the apartment. But we didn’t find anything that would explain why someone shot him in the face. When Fennel finished the search, he called for an officer to keep an eye on Mr. Golden. Neither of us wanted to leave the distraught man alone.

  Seven

  “Are you going to cry?” Brad asked.

  “No, that wouldn’t be professional.” I sniffed and looked out the window.

  “Are you sure? Because if you do, I will too. And then it’ll just be our little secret. No one has to know.” He took one hand off the steering wheel and gave mine a squeeze. “That was brutal.”

  “At least he alibied out. It would have been worse if we had to drag him in as a person of interest.”

  “True.” Brad pulled into a parking space near the Moonlight Security office building. Half a block away was a coffee shop. “I could use some caffeine. How about you?”

  “Coffee, chocolate, answers. At this point, it makes no difference to me.”

  “Come on. It’s my treat. And if you want to go crazy and splurge on something insanely unhealthy, I won’t tell Emma.”

  I thought about my best friend. I felt the same way about her that Richard Golden felt about Jonathan Gardner. There was a time in my life when it was just the two of us against the world. But then I became a cop. And my world got a lot bigger. And then I met Brad, and now most days, it was just him and me, fighting the good fight. Or trying to. Even if today felt like an epic loss.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird none of the neighbors mentioned Jonathan Gardner had a roommate?” he asked.

  “We didn’t ask.”

  “He has an alibi. And I don’t think anyone could fake that level of grief.” Brad stared up at the menu, but his mind was elsewhere. “But it’s just weird.”

  “Maybe it has to do with Gardner’s lease agreement.”

  “That could be,” he agreed. The woman in front of us moved out of the way, so Brad and I stepped up to the counter. “What do you want, Liv?”

  “Large, organic dark roast.”

  “Make that two.” Brad reached into his pocket for his wallet.

  The barista noticed his badge and shook her head. “It’s on the house.”

  “No, I insist.” Brad paid for our coffees and picked up a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans and read the ingredients on the back. “And two bags of these.” He handed her another fifteen dollars. “Keep the change.”

  We went to the end of the counter to wait for our order, and Brad handed me one of the bags. “You said you wanted chocolate and coffee.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “I know.”

  “Since you’re into wish fulfillment today, are you going to get answers too?” I tore open the candy and offered him some, but he shook his head and opened his own bag. He shook a few into his mouth and crunched on them.

  “That’s the plan.”

  I smiled. “I like it.” I had eaten three by the time our drinks were ready. Brad shook two packets of raw sugar into his and gave it a stir. Most days, I drank mine black, but today wasn’t most days. So I followed suit and added a splash of almond milk, ignoring the amused snort that came from my partner. “You said you wouldn’t tell Emma.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  We stepped back into the morning light, the weight of the last few hours crushing me beneath it. “I don’t think Jonathan Gardner was killed for personal reasons, but we should look into Mary Winsor and her new boyfriend, just in case.”

  “We should also run down Gardner’s gaming buddies. Some people can get really competitive with these online games. They spend hundreds of hours building up their characters, so they get testy when things don’t go the way they want.”

  “Yeah, but don’t you think Mr. Golden would have mentioned something like that happening?” I asked.

  “Maybe. Or Gardner did something wrong and screwed one of his teammates or shot his friend’s character. I’ve lost many online campaigns due to friendly fire.”

  “Now you’re making this sound like some military op.”

  “They aren’t that dissimilar, except of course for the obvious differences. Unless that’s why Gardner’s dead. One of his friends might have shot him as payback, in real life.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Brad shrugged. “My gut says that’s not what happened either, but we leave no stone unturned.”

  “When we get back to the precinct, I’ll ask Mac to look into it.”

  “Laura Mackenzie? Really?”

  “Why? What’s wrong with her? She’s the best tech the department has and the least utilized.”

  “Yeah, but you let a gamer near a game, and it’ll be three days before she surfaces.”

  “Puh-lease.” I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee, wondering if I could take it into the office building or if they strictly enforced the no food and beverage policy stenciled on the front door. “Mac’s a professional.” I gave him a sideways look. “But you seem to know a lot about this. I’m gu
essing that means I shouldn’t let you anywhere near this unless I want to work the case on my own.”

  “Don’t worry, Liv. I’m a reformed addict. I gave up the first person shooters when I got back stateside. Now it’s just car racing and third person adventure games. Not that I have much time for any of that.” He nudged my shoulder. “You keep me busy.”

  “It’s not me. It’s the job.”

  “Sure, sure.” He watched a few people through the front window while he finished his coffee. Then he tossed the paper cup into the bin. I took a final sip and followed suit, amused to see a phone number scribbled on the side of his cup. “Are you sure you don’t need that?” I pointed at it.

  Brad glanced down. “Nah.”

  “She was cute.”

  “I’m good, thanks.” He waited for me to let it go. Then he rubbed his hands together. “All right. You wanted coffee, chocolate, and answers. Let’s see if I can go three for three.”

  We entered the lobby, checked the directory, and went up two floors to Moonlight Security. The frosted glass door and the stenciling reminded me more of a private eye’s office from a noir flick than any security firm I’d ever seen. Brad opened the door, glancing up when the bell dinged above us.

  The receptionist behind the pressed-wood desk popped her gum and smiled. “What can I do for you?”

  “Police.” My partner held out his badge.

  She climbed out of the chair and leaned over the counter, her cleavage spilling out from the top three opened buttons of her blouse. “Detective,” she nodded to herself, “nice.” She glanced at me, but I didn’t hold out my badge. I didn’t need to see any more of her cleavage. She was young and perky and had probably used that trick to get out of several speeding tickets.

  “We need to speak to whoever’s in charge,” I said.

  “The big boss isn’t in. But you can speak to my supervisor,” she turned her attention to Brad, “or you can leave me your number. I’ll have him call you. Or I could call you.”

  What was up with these women today? Jeez. Brad was right. He could probably go three for three.

  “Where can I find your supervisor?” I asked.

  She pointed to an open door that led into a back office.

  “Thanks.” Without waiting for an invitation, I headed for the office. Brad and I had done this enough times that we didn’t have to voice our intentions. I’d start with the supervisor while he convinced the perky twenty-four year old to spill her guts, along with her boobs, about the operation and everything she knew about our vic. Damn, now my internal voice was starting to sound like a hard-boiled detective from the black and white movies. I definitely didn’t need to spend any extra time in this security office.

  Shaking it off, I knocked on the doorjamb and opened my jacket to reveal my badge. “Detective Liv DeMarco, homicide. I need to speak to you about one of your employees.”

  Connor McFarland gestured that I enter. “Please, have a seat. I knew someone would be here. This is about Jonathan Gardner and the shooting at Star Cleaners, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “A sergeant called earlier to ask me some questions. I figured it was just a matter of time until officers came knocking.” He took off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “What can I do to help?”

  “You can start by telling me why Star Cleaners hired a night watchman.”

  “It was part of a promotion we had running. In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t some fancy operation. Originally, we sold home security systems. Eventually, Mr. Denisten decided to branch out. So we started installing security systems for small businesses, and then he came up with the bright idea to provide guards.”

  “Mr. Denisten?”

  “The guy who owns this place.” McFarland opened the drawer and removed a business card with his boss’s name and contact information. “I assume you’ll want that.”

  “Thanks.” I tucked it into the back of my notepad. “I take it from your tone you didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  “We didn’t have the manpower. At the time, it was just me, Mr. Denisten, Ava, and Ralph, the other technician. So we had to hire people, and that cut down on profits. So we had to take more jobs. And hire more people. You can see where this is going.”

  “How many people does Moonlight Security currently employ?”

  “Eleven, if you count me and the owner. It used to be fourteen, but we had to let three of the regulars go last month when none of our promotional customers wanted to sign a contract to keep a night watchman on hand. So now, we have six full-time security guards and one floater.” He handed me another sheet of paper before I could ask. “That’s our employee list. I took the liberty of circling the three who were let go. The sergeant said you’d want that.”

  “Yes, thanks.” I read the names, but they didn’t mean anything to me. Golden hadn’t mentioned any of these people when I asked about Jonathan Gardner’s friends. “Did you ever have any problems with Mr. Gardner?”

  “No, Johnny was topnotch. Truthfully, he was too good for this place. He had real potential. The kid could have gotten a better job somewhere else. He had a bachelor’s in psychology. If he’d just gone a bit further, he would have had tons of opportunities. Maybe then he’d still be alive.” He choked up, and I gave him a moment to compose himself. “Have you spoken to his parents yet? He talked about his family all the time. I just can’t imagine what they’re going through. I have a son, a few years older than Johnny. I just…I can’t imagine. I wanted to call them to express my condolences.”

  “I’m not sure if they’ve been notified yet, so you might want to hold off.”

  McFarland nodded. “I’ll send flowers. Everyone around here will pitch in. We’ll get a nice arrangement.”

  “So Mr. Gardner didn’t have any problems with anyone at work?”

  “No, of course not. He was a gentle soul. Everyone loved him.”

  That’s the only thing I’d heard about our victim. “What about personal issues? Anything you can think of?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Did he ever talk about a girlfriend or some girl he met?”

  “Nah, Johnny had been burned pretty badly. He wasn’t ready to put himself out there again.”

  “So no jealous husbands or vengeful exes? No one threatening him? What about money issues? Did he have any?”

  “We all have money issues, but Johnny never complained about it. He always showed up for his shifts. He never called in sick. He offered to cover if someone else called in, but I don’t think that was about money. I just think he was a good guy. He liked helping people.”

  “All right,” that left only one possibility, “what about Star Cleaners?”

  “What about them?”

  “Any idea why Mr. Lee wanted to hire a night watchman? Did Mr. Gardner or any of your other security guards ever report any problems?”

  Something flickered across McFarland’s face. “Star Cleaners hired us to install a new security system less than a month ago. Mr. Lee wanted the best system we had to offer. Top of the line. He went for all the bells and whistles, and when we offered him a night watchman for a thirty day trial, he jumped at the opportunity. Our clients are never that eager. I thought it was weird, but given that neighborhood, I figured maybe he’d had more than his share of break-ins and hold-ups. That’s why I insisted Johnny be armed. He’s licensed. All of our security guards are. But he didn’t like carrying the gun. I told him it was better to be safe than sorry, but I guess it didn’t make much of a difference.”

  “So you think Gardner intervened in the midst of a break-in?”

  “Isn’t that what happened?” McFarland cocked his head to the side, mentally replaying the questions I had asked him. “You think Johnny was killed for some other reason?”

  “I don’t know, sir. That’s why we’re investigating.”

  “It seems simple to me. Some asshole breaks in, Johnny tries to stop him, and for his trouble, he gets himsel
f killed.” He inhaled, shaking his head. “And it’s my fault because I sent him over there.” He deflated, sinking deeper into the chair.

  “Sir, it’s not your fault.” At least, nothing indicated he was responsible. “We noticed some discrepancies with Star Cleaners’ security logs. Would you mind taking a look?”

  McFarland put his glasses back on and sat up straighter in his chair. “I’ll do anything to help you find the person who hurt Johnny. Where are they?”

  I glanced out the doorway. Ava held Brad’s left wrist against the counter while she wrote something in black ink on his palm. “Detective Fennel,” I called, and she released the grip on his wrist and tucked the pen into her cleavage, “are you almost finished out there? Mr. McFarland would like to see the security logs.”

  My partner straightened his jacket and strode toward us. From the look on his face, I wasn’t sure if he had made progress on identifying the killer or on getting some buxom blonde to tour his bedroom. Either way, his mood had improved.

  Eight

  After Mr. McFarland reviewed the security logs and the data Moonlight Security’s servers received during the night, we still weren’t any closer to figuring out what happened. If the perimeter had been breached, the disarm code would have to be entered, but the code was entered before the perimeter was breached. And it had been entered from outside the shop.

  “At least we know Jonathan Gardner didn’t disarm the system,” Fennel said. “Mr. Lee told Sgt. Chambliss that Gardner arrived for his shift at his normal time, took up his post inside the dry cleaner’s, and then Mr. Lee activated the system once he let himself out. That’s their routine. They did the same thing every night.”

  “So someone waited until 4:12 a.m. to enter the disarm code. Do we know if the person who entered the code had a key to gain entry?”

  “We’ll check with CSU and find out if the rear doors were tampered with.” My partner jotted down a note, so we wouldn’t forget.