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

“You said Cruz works patrol. Was he in uniform?”

“Yep, so this bastard knew for sure he was a cop.”

At least they didn’t try to steal a police uniform. That was a plus. A thought struck me, and I headed for the door. “Make sure everything gets forwarded upstairs. We need every bit of intel if we’re going to stop these bastards before they kill again.”

“You got it,” Chambliss said. “But patrol’s on the lookout. If you don’t find these assholes, one of my guys will. I can almost guarantee it.”

Eighteen

Could it be about the uniforms? I drummed my fingers against the conference table. My desk had gotten too cluttered for me to work, so I went into the room where the techs continued to search the footage and internet for clues. Fennel followed, dragging a rolling whiteboard behind him. Then we set up our murder board.

“The 9-1-1 caller and the witness from the train station said the two men in LockBox uniforms had dark hair. But Officer Cruz said one of them was blond.” Fennel chewed on his bottom lip. “The guy who shot at you looked like he had dark hair, but I wasn’t that close. Most of what I could see was his cap.”

“He had dark hair. Cruz was attacked by the other one. That’s the only thing that would explain the timing, but the witness said both guards had similar features. I don’t get it.”

“Me neither. But since the restroom was out of order, it only had emergency lighting. Maybe Cruz got it wrong,” Fennel suggested.

“Cops don’t usually get it wrong.”

“It could have been a wig. These guys like to play dress-up. Do you think they stole anything else from Star Cleaners? They could be construction workers or pirates by now.”

I snorted. “Mr. Lee didn’t keep any other records, just the physical carbon copies. He doesn’t know what clothes were in back before the break-in, let alone after. Unless a customer tries to pick up his dry cleaning order and Lee can’t find it, we won’t know anything for sure.”

“That could take a week or more. People don’t always get around to running errands. We don’t have time to wait.”

“No, we don’t.” I rocked back in the chair. “We’ve compiled a list of Star Cleaners’ regular customers, but none of that looks promising.”

“And the employees, past and present, are in the clear. We checked alibis for today’s shooting.” Fennel reached for the notepad and a sharpie, marking Lee’s name off the list. “Even the owner alibied out.”

“The same with Moonlight Security’s personnel. I want to get something on the books with the CEO, Mr. Denisten, but he’s out of the office this week. McFarland said he had business meetings scheduled for every day. I left a message on his voicemail. Hopefully, he’ll get back to us by tomorrow. If anyone would know anything about weaknesses in their security systems or what other lucrative targets Moonlight Security protects, it would be him.”

“All right.” Fennel made a note at the top and more black lines across the paper. “I got in touch with the guys who played video games with Jonathan Gardner. I just have one more to verify, but that’ll probably pan out, and then we can cross off their names.”

“Dammit.”

“I know.”

I stared up at the photo array. At this point, we didn’t have any suspects left. “Six people were killed in the last thirty-six hours. And these chuckleheads still haven’t gotten their big score.”

“No, but they might be getting cocky. After all, one of them ended up in a shootout with us before vanishing, and the other beat the shit out of a uniformed cop in the middle of a public restroom. They aren’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with the police or armed guards. At this point, it looks like they’d rather kill than run. Nothing’s going to stop them from continuing to escalate.”

“You’re wrong. They won’t take unnecessary risks. Not yet. They still have a plan.”

“What makes you say that?” Fennel asked.

“According to Cruz, the maintenance sign had been on the bathroom door for a couple of days and no one else was inside. I think the bastard lured Cruz into isolation to take care of him and fled before help arrived. That’s not the behavior of someone who thinks of himself as invincible.”

“That’s not the point, Liv. The point is these bastards don’t care about killing people in uniform. Honestly, I think they revel in it. The dispensary owner is the only person they attacked who wasn’t wearing some sort of uniform.” Fennel swiveled around to study the board.

“That doesn’t help us any.”

“Maybe not,” he agreed, “but it might lend itself to some kind of psychological profile. The killer hates authority, represented by people in uniform.”

“Even if it’s a station agent?”

“It’s still authority. Perhaps, that’s why they left the woman behind them in line alive. They only knocked her down. They just as easily could have shot her.”

“Wow, you’re so insightful.”

Fennel chuckled. “I did ace psychology class.”

“Apparently so did Jonathan Gardner, but that didn’t help him any.”

Fennel let out an unhappy grunt and reached for a map. Every point of interest had been marked and color coded. “Where do you think they went after they robbed the dispensary but before they dumped Lindsey Rook’s body in the alleyway and headed for the subway station? That’s two and a half hours unaccounted for.”

I narrowed my eyes, seeing the crime scene unfold inside my mind. “Rook drove the LockBox truck. When he exited the vehicle to help his colleagues, the assailants knocked him out and abducted him. And they made sure to keep his uniform pristine and free of blood. That’s why they shot him after they stripped him.” I didn’t like what I was thinking. “The killers wanted