High Risk

by G. K. Parks

  “He and Lisco reached the same conclusion, but they don’t have proof either. We have to ID these bastards. Until we know who they are, we have no way of knowing when or where they might strike.”

  “Or why.” I sunk back onto the pillow and stared at the board. “Gravelly Voice made it sound personal. He wanted to hurt me because he’d been hurt.”

  “Do you think he’s a victim of police brutality?”

  “It’s possible.”

  Brad sat on my coffee table and leaned forward, studying the board. “Blondie’s the weak link. He’s not a criminal. At least he wasn’t before the team hooked up, or he’s new and never worked with this crew before. Either way, Gravelly Voice doesn’t trust him. He wouldn’t have forced him to try to kill a cop if he did.”

  “If Roberts and Ainsley didn’t arrive when they did, we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation. That’s what distracted Gravelly Voice, and then I fired off a shot and they bolted.” I closed my eyes, seeing the blond-haired man stare at me. I’m sorry. I recognized that voice. I just couldn’t place it. “Shit.”

  “What is it?”

  Before I could answer, the phone rang.

  “DNA analysis came back on one of the samples,” Detective Lisco said when I answered. “Diego Eisner. Does the name mean anything to you?”

  “Diego Eisner.” I caught Brad’s eye. “He attacked me?”

  “It looks that way,” she said. “The lab just got a hit off the blood we found on the broken wine bottle. He has a record. He served five years for armed robbery. He got paroled eighteen months ago. According to his PO, Diego appears to have been rehabilitated. Well, that was before he went on this high stakes crime spree.”

  “High risk, high reward,” I said.

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Lisco hesitated. “I just thought you’d want to know.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Are you bringing him in?”

  “Ink’s drying now.”

  I went to the computer and typed in his name, narrowed my search to the city, and waited. “Great,” I said absently. “Have you made any progress identifying the other two men?”

  “Not yet. Voletek’s hoping Diego will give up his accomplices for a deal. Since our boy’s been through the system a few times, he ought to know how this works. I bet he’ll talk with the proper incentive.” She lowered her voice. “By the way, have you seen Fennel?”

  “I’m looking right at him.”

  She let out a sigh. “Okay, good.”

  That caught my attention. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just wondered what he was up to. I wanted to make sure he was staying out of the investigation.”

  “Of course,” I said. “We both are.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, right. Just know, we’ll handle this, DeMarco. If we need you, we’ll call. And remember, that goes both ways. You remember something, make sure you let me know.”

  “Absolutely.” I put down the phone to find Brad had already written Diego’s full name on the board and had confiscated my computer to continue running a search. “They IDed one of them.”

  “I heard,” Brad said, lost in the research. “Why was Lisco asking about me?”

  “I’m not sure.” I scooped his tablet off the table and brought up Diego Eisner’s photo. I never would have been able to ID him with the Halloween mask, but he fit the bill.

  He mumbled something under his breath. “I’m gonna make sure Lisco gave Mac the heads up. Is Voletek bringing Diego in now?”

  “Someone is,” I said while Brad shot off a text. While I searched the internet and social media for Diego Eisner, it hit me. I realized why the blond man’s voice was so familiar. “Shit. The bastard who nearly shot me is Michael Tolliver’s roommate. Carter something.” My brows scrunched together while I concentrated on recalling his last name. “Moore. Carter Moore.”

  Brad started dialing before he even asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Almost positive.”

  “That’s good enough for me.” He relayed the news while he paced in front of the board. “Yeah, you should bring him in too. Bring them all in. The roommate. Everyone. Scoop up the whole bachelor party if you have to.” Brad disconnected and tapped the phone against his chin a few times. “What about Michael Tolliver? Was he there too? Is he the one with the gravelly voice?”

  “No, Gravelly Voice has a bad knee. He’s the one who must have been using the CBD and menthol. He probably kept an eye on Gardner. He’s probably also the one who killed him.”

  “Tolliver doesn’t have bad knees.” Brad knelt down beside me, so I could see the computer screen. “Carter Moore.” He checked the police database first. “He doesn’t have a record. No priors. Nothing. Dammit.”

  “What?”

  “They smoke pot.”

  “So does forty percent of the population or something like that.” I didn’t know the statistics, but it was common enough. But I saw where his mind had gone. “The dispensary.”

  “Assuming Carter Moore or Michael Tolliver obtained their stash legally, they could have gotten it from the dispensary that was targeted. And Tolliver works at Star Cleaners.”

  “You checked Tolliver’s alibi. He’s not involved.”

  “No, but his roommate is. We just don’t know if Tolliver is assisting or if his roommate obtained the intel unintentionally. Even if Tolliver didn’t tell Carter a damn thing about work or the security code or the uniforms, Carter could have overheard Tolliver talking to Gardner when they were playing video games. And if Gardner was talking to his buddies about work or bitching about guarding the dispensary, Carter could have gotten even more intel. And if that’s where he went for his stash, he could have seen it firsthand.” Brad keyed in another search.

  We had requested a warrant to access the dispensary’s records, but it never came through. The judge thought our request was nothing more than a fishing expedition, and given the nature of the shop, an attempt to harass people with medical conditions.

  “We knocked right on their fucking door. That’s how they knew we were on to them,” I said. “That’s why they panicked and moved on the dispensary even when the truck didn’t show up. Shit. By following up on a lead, we tipped them off.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Yeah, well, shit.”

  Brad climbed to his feet, automatically checking his belt for his gun and cuffs. I knew my partner. He wanted to make the arrest, except he was barred.

  “Voletek will get him.”

  “Yeah.” Brad paced back and forth, his hands tucked in his back pockets while he stared at the data on the board. “How did we miss this?”

  “We checked. They alibied out. Wait,” I sat up, forcing Gunnie to return to the floor, and grabbed the computer, “they alibied out. Carter Moore attended the bachelor party. It can’t be him. I must be mistaken.” But my gut said I wasn’t. I searched Carter’s social media page, finding him tagged in only two photos from the night in question. One of the photos was a group shot of the men when they first arrived, and it was taken in the parking lot. I knew it was early in the evening since everyone looked sober. The second photo was taken inside, but I didn’t spot the girl from the cake. The cake came an hour after they arrived, though I wasn’t clear why they needed a girl to pop out of a cake for a bachelor party, but that wasn’t something I needed to waste my brain power on.

  “Are these the only photos he’s in?” Brad asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Son of a bitch. He took them just to make it look like he had an alibi. He must have slipped away without anyone noticing.”

  “We have to be sure.” I checked Michael Tolliver’s photos and the ones his friends posted of the event. Apparently, the few who were concerned about getting in trouble with work or their spouses weren’t tagged, but Michael had given us a list of names. None of them had records. And even the ones who weren’t tagged popped up in dozens of photos.

  “We never did a deep dive
on Carter.” Brad cursed. “I should have. I told you I’d check with the strip club.” He dialed the rideshare driver he’d previously questioned and asked a dozen questions about the men. By now, I was certain the driver had forgotten most of the details, but when Brad hung up, I could see the answer on his face. “He doesn’t remember driving a blond guy home.”

  “Carter’s our guy. Well, one of them.” I sucked in a breath. “He apologized at the apartment. I remember thinking it was weird, like he wanted to tell us something but couldn’t. Do you remember that? I thought it was guilt over the weed and being high while we questioned him. I didn’t realize there was more to it.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “Our cop instincts suck. What’s worse is he apologized to me in the liquor store. He didn’t want to kill me, but he didn’t think he had a choice. If we can bring him in, I think we can flip him. Diego stayed cool and detached, but Carter was a mess. He’ll break.”

  “That’s why Gravelly Voice wanted him to pull the trigger. He needed him to commit such a heinous act that we wouldn’t consider giving Carter a deal or would refuse to believe anything he said.”

  “Do you think that’s why Carter attacked Officer Cruz? Because he was forced to?”

  “Possibly, or because he thought it’d be better to knock out a cop than to kill one.”

  While we waited to hear back from the precinct, Brad and I searched every database and social media platform we could think of in order to find a connection between Diego Eisner and Carter Moore. But as far as I could tell, none existed.

  Brad picked up his phone a few dozen times, blew into his fist, and stared at the board from his spot on my coffee table. I slumped back onto the pillows and reread his notations a hundred times. Since we weren’t at work, Brad picked up Gunnie’s tennis ball and tossed it in the air.

  Immediately, the puppy sat up from where he’d been lying on the floor next to me and watched the ball sail toward the ceiling. Two tosses later, he went over to Brad and wagged his tail.

  “Sorry, buddy.” Brad gently tossed the ball down the hall, and Gunnie chased after it, returning a few seconds later. He dropped it at Brad’s feet, and my partner tossed it again.

  I turned the computer back on, typing with one hand so I wouldn’t have to get up. Carter didn’t have much of a social media presence. Then again, neither did Diego. “Did Mac tell you how long it’d take for her to do a deep dive?”

  “She said she’d get right on it and let us know, unless Lisco or the LT intercepts her first.”

  “She’ll still call you back.” I tapped my finger against the side of the laptop. “What if we cross-reference Diego and Carter with Moonlight Security and LockBox. We might find something.”

  “I doubt it. We know Carter’s name didn’t pop when we checked, and Diego has a record. They don’t hire felons, remember?”

  “Right.” I tried to think of another way to figure out why these men committed these crimes and who their ringleader could be. “What about an address search?” I opened a tab and brought up the map. Then I entered Diego’s home and work address into it. I repeated the process with Carter’s apartment number and the addresses for his two jobs. They had to intersect somewhere, but where?

  “Find something I missed?”

  “Nope.” I rubbed my eyes, glad that the yellowish-green bruises no longer hurt. “But Carter and Diego have to link together.”

  “Not necessarily. Gravelly Voice could be the connection. Diego and Carter might not have anything in common.”

  “Then why wouldn’t Gravelly Voice trust Carter?” I asked.

  Brad tossed the tennis ball again. “I don’t know.” But his mind was elsewhere. “We found two blood samples in the liquor store that didn’t match you. One has to be Diego. He’s the one you hit with the bottle.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “The other sample was beside the broken glass door to the cooler. That would make it…?”

  “Carter’s blood, I think. It happened so fast, but it must have been him.” So much of it was a blur, probably from the adrenaline, the injury, and the lack of proper lighting.

  “That doesn’t help us ID the ringleader.” Brad went to the board. “You’re sure our unsub disarmed the security system? It wasn’t Carter or Diego who did it?”

  “No, it’s the unknown third party. When I told him to put his hands on his head and get on the ground, that’s when I found out he had a bad knee. We’ve been over this. He wore that stupid Halloween mask and gloves. I cuffed him, but he got out of them somehow.”

  “And you’re certain he wasn’t armed?”

  “I patted him down. I didn’t find a gun. But he had one, after he got the cuffs off. Well, two, but it’s possible he got the second one from Diego.”

  “And you’re positive the guy you cuffed and the one who wanted Carter to shoot you is the same man?”

  “Same voice. Same build. It has to be the same man.” I glared at Brad’s back. “What? You think there’s four of them now?”

  “No, but I think he’s done this before. He knows how it goes. He’s more likely to get shot if he’s holding a gun when you approach him. He knows if you found a weapon on him during the pat down, you’d confiscate it. And he knew damn well you’d restrain him with your cuffs.” Brad glanced at me. “I’m surprised you had them with you. I thought you weren’t expecting trouble.”

  “Dad taught me to be prepared.”

  “But the unsub didn’t expect to encounter you. He expected to run into officers who just finished working graveyard. They would still have their gear, unless they left it in their lockers.”

  “Okay, so?”

  “So he knew if he was restrained it would be with actual cuffs, not zip ties. I think he had a handcuff key. Or one of his friends did.” Brad turned back to the board. “This isn’t the unsub’s first rodeo. Based on the store layout and what you said about him studying the shelves, he could have hidden the gun anywhere, waited for the lights to go out and for you to be distracted, and then he retrieved it.”

  “Okay, Tex.”

  “I’m serious, Liv. Whoever this guy is, he must have a record. The crap he was sputtering, that would explain it. At least some of it.” He reached for his tablet. “The worst part about this is no one we’ve investigated has a record. LockBox, Moonlight, and Star Cleaners refuse to hire felons.”

  “The same’s true of the dispensary. So where did this guy come from, and how did these three cross paths and end up deciding on these targets?”

  “Those are good questions. We should ask these bastards that as soon as they’re brought in.” Brad checked the time again. “Voletek should have called by now. How long does it take to get an arrest warrant signed?”

  “It’s not just the warrant.” But the wait seemed interminable to me too. “They have to find Diego and Carter, bring them in, and book them. That takes time.”

  I pulled up everything we had on Carter Moore. His family history didn’t show much. His parents were divorced. No reports of abuse or neglect. He graduated high school, went on to get his associate’s degree from the city college, and then he worked at various retail and fast food places. Currently, he had two jobs. One at a bookstore and the other at a supermarket. He could have crossed paths with the other two men in his crew at any time or place. But I had no idea where or when it might have happened or even why.

  “I hate this,” Brad said. “Maybe I should head to the precinct to see what’s going on.” He crossed to the window to make sure the patrol units were stationed outside. But before he could make up his mind, the phone rang.

  Thirty-three

  “We can’t find them,” Voletek said.

  Brad circled, glaring at his phone. He clenched his fists, fighting to control himself. “What do you mean you can’t find them?”

  “Diego’s gone. His apartment’s the size of a closet. He cleared it out. We checked at the mattress factory where he works, but no one’s seen hi
m since he finished his shift on Friday. He didn’t call in sick or request time off. He just didn’t show up,” Voletek said.

  “What about pinging his phone?” I asked.

  “It’s off. We’re monitoring it, in the event he turns it back on.”

  “What about the GPS in his car? If he has one of those roadside assistance things, we might be able to track it,” Brad said.

  “Sorry, man. Diego doesn’t own a car. We flagged his credit cards, so if he buys something, we’ll be able to swoop in and pick him up. In the meantime, I’ll go through his financials to determine where he hangs out. Then we’ll ask around. Someone has to know something.” Voletek sighed. “Liv, are you listening?”

  “Yeah, Jake, I’m here.”

  “We’re gonna get them. I promise.”

  “What about Carter Moore?” Brad asked. “Any leads on his whereabouts?”

  “Michael Tolliver said Carter left before he got up this morning. We went by his work, but he wasn’t there. According to his boss, he wasn’t on the schedule for today.”

  “He has two jobs,” I said. “The supermarket and the bookstore.”

  “Right, I know. He wasn’t scheduled to work at either one. His boss at the bookstore said Carter was acting weird last week. Sweaty, pale, vomiting, so he sent him home last Thursday and told him to take a few days off to get better.”

  “Thursday, that’s the day before Jonathan Gardner was killed.” I looked at Brad. “Carter knew what was going to happen. He must have gone to Star Cleaners that night. If he was that messed up about it, why didn’t he call in a tip?”

  “You have an awful lot of faith in someone who left you to bleed out on the floor, who nearly blew your brains all over the place.” Brad stared out the window, his cheek twitching.

  “Michael said Carter’s supposed to pick up dinner for them tonight. If he doesn’t show by seven, we’ll have his roommate reach out and leave a voicemail. Until we know what’s what, we’ll keep Michael Tolliver on ice in case he’s involved.” Voletek sighed. “He looks clean. Patrol is bringing in the rest of the bachelor party for questioning. We’ll hold everyone as long as we can. You already spoke to them, didn’t you?”