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end up dead. He just didn’t realize it’d happen so soon. The police investigation meant they had to be careful. “We should probably clear out too. What do you think?”

The third man took a deep breath. Unlike the other two, he was stone-cold sober and cool as a cucumber. This is what he planned. He just didn’t think the cops would get their act together this quickly. But they didn’t know anything. They were just covering their bases. Still, he would have preferred them flapping their gums at some donut shop instead of following up with the other Star Cleaners employees. On the bright side, Michael Tolliver had an airtight alibi. That was one of the reasons why he chose last night to strike. Innocent men shouldn’t go to prison.

“What are you thinking?” Carter asked, cringing when the third man met his eyes. “You know I didn’t tell them anything. You listened to everything they asked and everything I said.”

“Then why are you so nervous?” The third man took a step closer, watching Carter shrink in on himself. “You said we were cool. Now you’re about to piss yourself. If this is too much for you, tell me. We have sixteen hours until go-time. If I have to replace you, I will.”

“No.”

“So you’re in?”

“I’m…uh…I’m in.” Carter bit his lip.

“Diego?” the third man asked.

Diego downed the rest of the whiskey in one gulp. “You know I am. One hundred million dollars here we come.”

Carter glanced at his friend. That’s why they were doing this. One hundred million split three ways was a hell of a lot of money. He could disappear to someplace where his violent partner couldn’t find him. The money might even make him forget seeing that man’s face explode out of the back of his skull. Or he’d buy enough booze, drugs, and tail to make him forget. Or so he hoped.

The third man eyed Carter, his unease growing with every jitter. “Until the job’s done, we stick together. I don’t want anyone getting antsy or doing something stupid and getting picked up by the cops.”

“Yeah, no. That’d be bad,” Carter said, though it was clear his mind was elsewhere.

Coming back to Carter’s apartment had been stupid enough, but if Michael hadn’t seen his roommate home safe and sound, he would have started calling and texting, which would have led to questions. This was easier. This went along with Carter’s bogus alibi about attending the bachelor party, and since Carter was their connection to Star Cleaners, the third man needed to keep him alive and out of trouble for now. He couldn’t afford for Carter to go blabbing their plan to the first person who asked. But once the job was done, that would no longer be the case.

He looked at Diego and grinned. By this time tomorrow, everything would be different.

*       *       *

“Sgt. Chambliss said a vehicle was seen driving away from Star Cleaners around the time of the murder. And since we know Jonathan Gardner’s credit card was used at 24/7 Spirits, which is twenty blocks from Star Cleaners, I’m going out on a limb and saying the killer drove there. We’ll need to pull traffic cam footage from outside the liquor store and see if we spot it.”

“Already done,” Fennel said. “As soon as we got off the phone, I ran with it. No silver sedan with illegal tinting went anywhere near the liquor store during that timeframe. And before you ask, nothing’s turned up yet on the BOLO, but it’s probably just a matter of time. A car like that is gonna stick out.”

“Dammit.” How could we already be scraping the bottom of the barrel? “What about ballistics?”

Fennel rubbed his eyes. “Nothing yet. Are you surprised?”

“Not even a little bit.” I let out a sigh. “Okay, so we don’t know if the gun used to kill Gardner’s been used in any other crimes. That’s not helpful. Did the ME have anything to add?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.”

Fennel reached for the phone. “Let me see what I can find out.”

I read the intel again, but it was just a jumble. Maybe it was me. I was tired, frustrated, and had the mother of all headaches. Emma would probably tell me it was from eating the entire bag of chocolate covered espresso beans. The caffeine and sugar apparently weren’t good for me. There was a chance she wasn’t wrong, but this felt more like a stress headache. The kind I got when I was missing something.

“Detective,” a familiar voice called from behind.

I spun in my chair to find ADA Logan Winters standing behind me. “Dammit.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You forgot?”

“Yeah, sorry. We caught a case.” I gestured at the mess of papers on my desk.

“Do you need to reschedule?” He pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. “I’m free Monday night and for a few hours on Wednesday.” He nodded to my partner, who whispered a few things on the phone. From his posture, it appeared Fennel was in the midst of a social call instead of a work call. “But the court date’s set for Thursday, so Wednesday’s pushing it.”

Fennel hung up the phone. “Carrie said the prelim suggests cause of death is a fatal gunshot wound to the head. They found some week-old bruises on the guy’s shins and one on his shoulder. That could be something. But he might have been kickboxing or playing soccer. Didn’t he have some photos like that on social media?”

“Lacrosse,” I said. “Or it could have been field hockey.”

“Right.” Fennel rocked back in his chair and tossed the baseball in the air. “That would explain it.”

“Add his teammates to the list.”

“They’re already on there. He does everything with the same group of guys. If he’s not hanging out with them, he’s hanging out with

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