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with his head in his hands while Sgt. Chambliss spoke gently to him.

Fennel knocked on the doorjamb, and Chambliss turned to us. “Detectives,” he greeted, “this is Arthur Lee. He owns Star Cleaners. He arrived around 5:45 this morning and found Jonathan Gardner dead. He came back here, unlocked the door, and called us. He’s been here ever since. He doesn’t want to go back out there until the body’s been cleared away.” Chambliss gave us a look. He didn’t like this any more than I did.

“I’m sorry,” I said, stepping into the room.

Mr. Lee looked up at the sound of my voice. “I knew today was going to be a bad day. My horoscope warned me about this. I just didn’t think it’d be this bad.”

Chambliss met Fennel’s eyes and jerked his chin toward the door. “Excuse me for just a minute, Mr. Lee. I need to have a word with Detective Fennel. Detective DeMarco will pick up where we left off.”

“Sure.” Mr. Lee nodded, something he seemed to do more often than a bobblehead doll. Clearly, he was in shock. “As I was telling the sergeant, I don’t know the security guard. Not really. I have a service. A night watchman was included in the deal.”

“So you don’t know Mr. Gardner?”

Lee shook his head.

“How long has he worked here?”

“I don’t know.”

I stopped writing and looked up from my notepad. “You don’t know?”

“No, I don’t. That’s what I was saying to your boss.”

My jaw set, but I didn’t offer a correction to his statement. Sgt. Chambliss wasn’t my boss. And explaining the command structure of the police department would be a waste of time. “Explain that to me.”

“Like I said, Moonlight Security provides a guard. He comes in at night. They have the details. I don’t know how long that man’s been working here. They’ve assigned several different night watchmen. I didn’t bother paying attention to who’s who.”

“Okay. Why don’t you tell me when you hired Moonlight Security?”

His brow furrowed. “Um… three weeks ago?” He turned toward the filing cabinet behind the desk. “I have the contract here somewhere.” He got up and opened the drawer. Automatically, my hand moved to the holstered weapon at my hip and rested on top of it. It never hurt to be safe instead of sorry, but he pulled out a folder and returned to the desk without incident. “Eighteen days ago.” He held out the contract for me to read.

I skimmed the details. Star Cleaners bought new locks for the front and rear doors and had alarms installed. They also had new security cameras mounted out back and a remote control opener installed for the metal gate to make it easier and safer for the delivery van to get in and out.

“They offered me a package deal on the night watchman,” Mr. Lee said, “if I upgraded.”

“Sure, that makes sense, I guess.” I handed back the folder, wondering if I should ask for a copy now or wait until later. “But I’m fuzzy on one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Why does a dry cleaner need a night watchman?”

Mr. Lee’s mouth dropped, and he gawked at me. “To make sure no one breaks in to steal the drugs.”

Two

“What?” I couldn’t have heard him right. “Did you say drugs?”

“Yes.” He gave me a bewildered look. “You passed them on your way in. The dry cleaning chemicals,” he pointed out the door, “they can be huffed. Used as inhalants. They make great gateway drugs. I saw that on one of those primetime news shows. You’re a cop. Don’t you know that?”

“Have you ever huffed them?”

He jerked backward as if I slapped him. “God no. Do I look like a drug addict to you?”

“No, sir,” I said, growing more uncertain of this fact. “But most people wouldn’t think to huff dry cleaning chemicals. Has this been a problem in the past? Have you had a lot of break-ins?”

“No, but I’ve had problems with a number of employees. They were supposed to be working, and instead, they’d sneak off and get high.”

“And you caught them huffing the chemicals?”

“Well, no. But they’d be gone for a few minutes, come back, and y’know, it was obvious they were on something. What else could it have been?”

A number of things, but Mr. Lee could be right. “How many times did this happen?”

“More than I care to count.”

I sighed, not wanting to think how bleak life must be to inhale dry cleaning chemicals for kicks. Frankly, I despised dry cleaning after my best friend Emma had forced me to read studies on the neurotoxins and cancer causing chemicals involved in the process. Sure, some places used safer and more eco-friendly substances, but I still wasn’t convinced it was a good idea, specifically after I learned it didn’t actually do much to penetrate the fabrics and make them any cleaner. And after hearing how frequently Mr. Lee’s employees allegedly huffed them, I had another reason to despise dry cleaning. Not to mention, Jonathan Gardner probably wasn’t a fan either.

“Can I get a copy of this?” I tapped the security contract with my pointer finger. “And a list of your past and current employees with the troublemakers highlighted?”

Mr. Lee opened the top drawer of his desk. “Sure. Do you think one of them broke in here and killed that man?”

“I don’t know.”

He grabbed a highlighter and opened another drawer. “Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Did any of them hold a grudge after you fired them or give you reason to think they might want to harm or steal from you? Have you received any threats?” To hire a night watchman, something must have happened.

“Not that I recall.”

“Okay.” That didn’t help me any. I took in the rest of the office. From what I could tell, it

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