High Risk by G.K. Parks (books for 10th graders TXT) 📕

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.

“Or the killer and his accomplice entered the disarm code, then went around the front, and broke the glass, so it wouldn’t trigger the alarm.”

“That means the killer could be working solo,” Fennel said. “The system beeps when it’s accessed. So Jonathan Gardner heard the beep, went into the back room to check the panel, and the killer broke through the front door. Gardner heard the noise, ran back out front, and got himself killed.”

“Damn. That makes sense. It also makes this a random act of violence.” It’d be a lot harder to find the killer if he had no connection to the victim or Star Cleaners. “Where do we go from here?”

“Dammit.” He tried to think, but his stomach let out an audible growl. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m not sure. Is it possible to have no appetite and be starving at the same time?”

“I think so.” He checked the time. “Let’s pick up lunch and take it back to the precinct. We need to review the security feed from outside the shop and find out if the canvass turned up anything useful.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

By the time we got back to the station, Sgt. Chambliss had sent officers with Mr. Lee to take inventory. The sergeant left copies of Lee’s statement and the reports with us, but we’d already been over all of it.

I speared a carrot and popped it into my mouth. “I thought we agreed this was a random act of violence. Why are you still scouring the internet for sordid details on Jonathan Gardner?”

“Because it’s all I can do.” Fennel leaned back, holding the bowl beneath his mouth so he wouldn’t spill while he ate his salad. “Did Chambliss say anything to you about Mr. Lee?”

“He’s leaving it up to us since we’re the detectives.”

“That means he doesn’t think Lee’s the killer.” Fennel swallowed another bite and rocked forward, putting his lunch down on his desk. “According to patrol, Mr. Lee’s wife said he didn’t leave their house until 5:25. But since it’s his wife, she could be lying.”

“Or that’s the truth. CSU checked him for GSR and blood spatter. He didn’t shoot Gardner. At least that’s what the evidence indicates.” I recalled our early morning interview. Perhaps, if I’d been more awake and alert, I would have paid more attention. “Arthur Lee’s an odd one. He thinks drug addicts want his dry cleaning chemicals. And he wanted top of the line security for his dry cleaning business.”

“Do you think it’s a front for something?”

I shrugged and focused on the few remaining bits of hardboiled egg and avocado slices hidden beneath the spring mix. When I finished eating, I wiped my hands and entered a few searches into the database. No other department had Mr. Lee or Star Cleaners under surveillance. And I couldn’t find any reports of previous break-ins or crimes happening at that location.

“Hey,” Fennel swiveled his monitor around, “a month and a half ago, someone broke into Mr. Lee’s apartment.”

“Who filed the report?” I asked.

“His wife. Mr. Lee was attending a dry cleaning convention when the break-in occurred.” He scanned the report for additional details. “The stolen property was recovered three weeks later, along with property from half a dozen other break-ins in that neighborhood. That would explain why he insisted on topnotch security.”

“Did Moonlight install a system at his home too?”

It was Fennel’s turn to shrug. “Want to call and find out?”

I picked up the receiver and dialed the number on McFarland’s business card. Three rings later, he answered and I asked him the same question I just asked Fennel. After getting affirmation, I hung up, only to find Fennel on the phone asking Mr. Lee the same question.

He snickered and put down the phone. “Well, that explains it.”

“Let me guess, Mr. Lee got a discount on Star Cleaners’ security system after having had his home security system installed.”

“Something like that.” Fennel sifted through the documents again. “Is it just me or does Mr. Lee enjoy a discount a bit too much? I’m going to run his financials and check with his insurance company to see if that might be motive for the break-in and murder. He didn’t pull the trigger, but he might have had someone else do it for him.”