High Risk

by G. K. Parks

  “Hey, this is DeMarco.” I placed my request for a team to come down for some quick evidence collection.

  When I got off the phone, Fennel stared up at me. “You realize we already released the scene. Anything we find now won’t hold up in court.”

  “Does it matter?”

  He pressed his lips together. We had to find these killers, but we’d need something solid to keep them off the streets. “Let’s see what they find. Then we’ll run it by the lieutenant and possibly the DA’s office and figure out how to proceed.”

  “Wait, you mean you screwed up?” Mr. Lee asked.

  “No, sir.” But we might have overlooked some key evidence. “We just want to be extra thorough.”

  “That’s not what Detective Fennel just said.”

  I glanced at my partner, hoping he’d chime in with something encouraging. But he held his hands up in front of his face, trying to judge the size of the smudge marks. Then he moved over to the next window pane to check for more smudges. “We like to cover all our bases. I’m sure you’re the same way, with the way you tackle stains and all.”

  “Right,” Mr. Lee said, though he seemed even less convinced than he did before. “But is this going to delay my reopening?”

  “No, sir,” Fennel said.

  “Okay, then do whatever you like.” Mr. Lee nodded to us and went back inside.

  “If our killers were smart, they might have tried to get a peek inside to see what they were facing once they broke in. The goal had to be the uniforms in back.” Fennel stood up straight. “We didn’t know that before, but I’m guessing the rear door was disarmed and one killer used it to gain entry to the LockBox uniforms. The second guy remained here, keeping an eye on Jonathan Gardner.”

  “And as soon as the night watchman heard noise in the back, the second killer broke through the window, killed him, and emptied the register. Damn, that’s brilliant.”

  “I just hope they didn’t bother to wipe the glass afterward.” Fennel smiled. “And you thought this was a waste of time.”

  Twenty minutes later, the mobile crime scene unit pulled to a stop in front of the dry cleaner’s. Ellie climbed out of the driver’s seat and opened the rear doors. “Hey, Brown Eyes and Brown Eyes’ partner.”

  “Twice in two days,” Fennel said. “I’d say it’s my lucky day, but these are terrible circumstances.”

  She grabbed her kit and came toward us. “You think I missed something?”

  “I think it’s possible,” Fennel said. “You had a lot of ground to cover.”

  She chuckled, turning to me. “Be careful. This one’s a smooth talker.”

  “I know. I thought about putting a warning label on him but figured no one would take it seriously.”

  She took out what looked like a large brush for blush and opened a glass jar. “This one’s a keeper. You better be nice to her, Brad.”

  My partner glanced at me and winked. “So I’ve been told.”

  “Well, now you’ve heard it a second time.” After knocking the excess off the brush, Ellie gently ran it along the glass. “I’m not getting anything.”

  “What about here?” Fennel pointed to the smudge he’d noticed.

  “Considering the amount of foot traffic, it could have come from anywhere.” But when she couldn’t pull a print, she swabbed the area. “It’s some sort of grease. But since we didn’t find prints anywhere inside, I’m guessing the killer wore gloves.” She stuck the swab into a tube and sealed it. “I’ll compare this to the grease we found on the rear security cameras. I’m guessing it’ll match. When he sprayed or wiped the lens with it, he probably got some transfer on his gloves.” She pointed to the smudges. “It looks like he ducked down low, so as not to be seen, and cupped his hands here.” She held her hands up to her eyes. “Like he was looking inside.”

  “That’s what we figured,” I said.

  “Gold star.” Ellie checked the rest of the windows and gave the back door another check. “Unfortunately, I don’t think this will give us much.”

  “It was worth a shot,” Fennel said. “Thanks for trying. Give me a call the second you finish running the analysis.”

  “Absolutely.” She tucked her kit into the rear of the van, gave Brad a friendly hug, waved to me, and headed back to the precinct.

  “You know, I’m starting to enjoy the level of service you get. Once again, we might need to revisit the concept of pimping you out.”

  “Hardy har.” He led the way back to the car, but our outing hadn’t led to any leads. We still weren’t any closer to identifying the killers or their next attempt at a large payday. “What if we do a few surprise checks?”

  “On what?”

  “Not what. Who. Or whom.” His brow furrowed. “I don’t know. We’re not the grammar police.” He pulled away from the shop. “The murders weren’t planned. The planning comes down to the break-ins and possibly the getaways. Killing’s just a side effect.”

  “I’d agree with that.”

  “So our killers didn’t make a big score. Unless they did it for the thrill and got that out of their system, they’ll want to go someplace safe, divide up their ill-gotten gains, and research their next target, just like Jake said.”

  “Sure.” I didn’t know where he was going with this.

  “Okay, so let’s follow up with everyone we spoke to yesterday and see if anyone’s acting particularly squirrely. I’d say we’d check with LockBox, but I’m guessing Voletek and Lisco already gave them the third degree.”

  “Yeah, but we did the same with our suspects. They’re clean.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense. At least one of the killers had to possess key facts about Star Cleaners. The security code. The uniforms. The killer has to be connected somehow. We have a list. I even got Mr. Lee to name his suppliers. It’s late. No one will expect us now. If we catch them off guard, we might stand a chance of getting to the bottom of this before someone else dies. C’mon, Liv, I don’t know what else we can do, unless you have a better idea.”

  I checked the time. Once we returned to the precinct, Lt. Winston would probably send us home. Unlike Capt. Grayson, the lieutenant was a stickler about keeping to our assigned shifts. Briefly, I wondered if he had his sights set on a position at 1PP. That would explain why he had two legacy detectives working in his unit. Bureaucratic brownnoser. “Yeah, all right. But don’t get your hopes up.”

  “I never do.”

  Twenty-two

  Michael Tolliver stared at us for a good twenty seconds before recognition kicked in. “Detectives, please, come in.”

  We’d already checked on Catelyn Rivera, who we found camped out in the campus library. Then we drove by Guy Kellerman’s place to make sure it remained empty while he was on vacation, and then we swung by to speak to Pamela Aiker. No one acted oddly, but by now, word had spread about the murdered night watchman. Aside from being upset about losing someone who worked in the same building as they did, they didn’t exhibit any signs they were responsible or display any awkward behavior which would indicate they were in the midst of planning a multi-million dollar heist.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” he asked.

  The smell of marijuana was nothing but a lingering memory. For the most part, the place looked about the same. “We just wanted to check on you.”

  He smiled at me. “Thanks.”

  Brad looked down the hall. “Is the party still going on?”

  Tolliver laughed. “No, thank goodness. Everyone’s gone home, and Carter’s at work. Don’t get me wrong, we had a hell of a night, but I couldn’t do it every day. I’m getting too old for that.”

  “When’s the wedding?” I asked.

  “Friday.” He pointed to a suit hanging from the frame of the open closet. “I’m a groomsman.” He made a noise halfway between a sigh and a snort. “I got that pressed at work. Y’know, I can’t believe something like that happened there. We hear about a lot of break-ins and armed robberies happening
around us. That grocery store on the corner’s been hit like three times this month. But I never thought it’d happen to us. We don’t have anything worth taking, but we were prepared. Mr. Lee made us watch these training videos he got from the security place.”

  “Moonlight Security?” Fennel asked.

  “Yeah. Johnny made fun of me for watching them. He said they were a joke.” Tolliver’s voice cracked. “I guess he should have paid more attention to them.”

  “So you were friends?” Fennel asked, baiting his hook.

  “Friendly. We didn’t talk at work much. Usually, by the time he came in, I was halfway out the door. But one time, Mr. Lee asked if I’d sweep up, so I stayed late. I guess we got to talking that day. But that was about it. I didn’t really know him.”

  “Didn’t you play online games together?” I jerked my chin at the console beneath the TV.

  Tolliver smiled sadly. “Yeah, we did, sometimes. He had a whole crew. They’re pretty cool guys.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this to us yesterday?” Fennel asked.

  “I didn’t think about it. Honestly, I wasn’t doing much thinking when we spoke last time. But if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. Johnny seemed like a good person.”

  “What did you talk about online?” Fennel asked.

  “Not much, aside from killing things.” Tolliver pressed his lips together. “I mean, y’know, fake things.”

  “I got it,” Fennel said. “Did he ever mention anything about his job at Moonlight Security or being a night watchman?”

  “Maybe. I don’t think he liked it very much. He got bored. Moonlight isn’t one of the premier companies, but it was a paycheck. I teased him about guarding people’s dirty clothes and having to protect other company’s security uniforms. But he knew I was just joking.”

  “So anybody you played with or against online could have heard you?” Fennel asked.

  “I guess.” Tolliver picked up one of the games and read the back of the box. “We mostly talked smack to one another and the other side, but I didn’t think any of us ever took it seriously. It was just fun. Y’know, the usual ribbing.”

  “All right, thanks for your time.” Fennel nodded at the box in Tolliver’s hand. “Is that the game you usually played? Did you ever play any others?”

  “Nope, just this one.”

  Fennel nodded. “When do you go back to work?”

  “Mr. Lee wants me there on Monday, but I don’t know. I had to beg for this coming Friday and the weekend off, so I don’t think he’d like it if I ask for more time, especially since he’s already short-staffed since Catelyn quit and Guy’s on vacation.” Tolliver internally debated with himself for a few more seconds before shaking it off and acknowledging us. “Lately, it just seems Star Cleaners is pretty toxic.”

  I asked a few quick questions about the chemicals and Mr. Lee’s fears, but Michael Tolliver didn’t have anything to add. Fennel and I let ourselves out. “You figured something out,” I said.

  My partner tried not to look smug. “I can’t be sure, but if the guys online gave Gardner a good ribbing, anyone playing with them or against them heard it. That’s how the communications work on that game. You can talk to your teammates on a private channel or you can talk openly to mess with the other side or make friends or whatever.”

  “That broadens the possibilities.”

  “It sure does.”

  We’d just gotten back into the car when Fennel’s phone rang. He checked the number and hit answer, identifying himself. “That was quick. Are you sure?”

  I waited, wondering what was going on.

  “And it matches?” He nodded a few times, even though the caller couldn’t see him. “Thanks for letting me know. I’m not sure it helps, but it’s something.” He hung up, frowning.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s not cooking oil. It’s,” he made a face, “I don’t know what it is. Ellie said it was a mix of commercial synthetic grease spray, CBD oil, and menthol.”

  “Synthetic grease?”

  “The stuff that comes in a spray bottle. It can be used for just about anything with high torque and high temperatures.”

  “Like?”

  “Carrying heavy loads.”

  “Like armored trucks?”

  “Possibly.”

  “That’s what was sprayed on the camera lens?”

  “Yep, but Ellie said only the CBD and menthol mixture was found on the window, not the camera.”

  “Okay, but we’re assuming it’s the same source. What does synthetic grease have to do with CBD oil and menthol?”

  “I’m not sure. The dispensary probably sells CBD oil,” Fennel suggested.

  “But it was on the killer’s hands or, rather, his gloves. That’s how it got transferred to the window, right? So he pressed his hands against the window to see in, and those substances were on the outside of his gloves. Menthol and CBD would be in muscle creams or rubs.”

  “Go on,” Fennel said, fascinated by my thought process.

  “So the guy could have an injury or arthritis. He used the rub, then put on his gloves, but some of the cream transferred from his skin to his gloves. Then he sprayed the cameras with the grease.”

  “But those sprays go everywhere. Okay. That’s something. Should we swing by the dispensary again?”

  “Why? CBD oil is everywhere. It doesn’t mean the killer got it from the dispensary, and honestly, I don’t think a customer would risk walking in disguised as a guard.”

  “But that could be why the owner stopped the thieves. He recognized one of them.”

  “Except we’ll never know, unless we find something in their records.” Today had turned me into a defeatist. “We need a look at the dispensary’s computer and receipts. And we’ll have to go through their customer database. To make a purchase, the store had to collect the customer’s information. If you’re right that the killer shopped at the same dispensary, then we just need to find a person who bought CBD oil and works with high torque and temperatures.”

  “Easy peasy,” Fennel said sarcastically, heading back to the precinct.

  Except it wasn’t. Since Voletek and Lisco had been assigned to assist on our case, I hoped they’d already taken a look at the customer list, but they hadn’t.

  “I don’t know, Brad.” I leaned back in the chair and looked around the empty conference table. Voletek and Lisco left twenty minutes ago, and the techs had abandoned us at shift change. “It doesn’t feel right.” I picked up the chemical breakdown of the compound Ellie swabbed off the front window at Star Cleaners. “This looks like a prescription cream or even something over the counter, but I don’t see anything like that for sale at the dispensary. This probably came from a pharmacy.”

  “All right, we’ll hold off until the morning and contact a pharmacist to see if we can ID the product. Even if it’s a generic, we might be able to pull something.”

  “Doubtful.” With privacy laws, I didn’t think we’d be able to reverse engineer a suspect list based on a prescription cream, but we could probably use that to pin down a suspect once we had one, if we ever had one. I rubbed my temples.

  “We need a fresh set of eyes to look at these facts. Maybe a good night’s sleep will help.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” My eye twitched, and I shoved the crime scene photos into a folder and out of sight. “I just don’t want to start tomorrow the same way I started these last two days.”

  “Me neither.”

  Twenty-three

  Instead of going home, I headed to my parents’ house. When I opened the door, I found Emma on all fours, bumping her nose against Gunnie’s side. The dog looked up at me, his mouth dropping open in what appeared to be a big smile before he skittered across the floor. His back paws slid against the wood in all directions while he tried to gain enough traction to race toward me.

  “Oh sure, you walk in and he immediately wants to play, but for me, he just sits there ch
ewing on his toy and eyeing me like I might steal it.”

  “See, he already has you pegged.” I knelt down, and the puppy jumped up, putting his paws on my chest while he tried to lap at my face. I held my head back and fluffed his ears until he calmed down enough so I could kiss him on the top of his head.

  “You aren’t supposed to let him do that. Vince said he needs to learn to stay down. When he’s eighty pounds, he’ll knock you right over.”

  “Dad might have said that, but he’s not here right now. I am. And I needed puppy hugs and kisses.” I cuddled the dog and pulled his head into my lap.

  “Are you okay, Liv?”

  I stroked the white spot on the pup’s nose. “I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I covered the dog’s ears. “Em, watch your language. He’s just a baby.” She rolled her eyes at my ridiculousness. “So how was the rest of the game?”

  “It got called on account of crimes, fires, and the apocalypse, apparently. Where did you and Brad run off to?”

  “Where do you think?”

  She got off the floor and brushed dog fur from her pants. “You want a drink? I found a bottle of tequila your mom had hidden in the back of the freezer from her last margarita night with the ladies.”

  “I’m not in the mood, but whatever you do, don’t tell Dad.”

  “What about dinner? Did you eat?” She watched as Gunnie rolled over for a tummy rub. “Did Bradley feed you?”

  “Yes, and for the record, he hates it when you call him that.”

  “That’s why I do it.” With a grin on her face, she went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “What did you eat? I can’t decide if I want to defrost one of the dinner’s your mom left for us or just make something quick.”

  “An omelet and pancakes. Well, the toppings from my pancakes. Brad ate most of the pancakes.”

  “That doesn’t sound like dinner.” She searched the freezer and pulled out a container. “How about joining me for a bowl of stew?”