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

“Could be, except that’s thirty-five blocks in that direction. How’d they get there? They sure as hell didn’t walk.”

I looked around. “They boosted another vehicle.”

“No reports from this neighborhood.”

“Okay, so they could have stolen a car from somewhere else and had it waiting for them.” But that didn’t feel right. I spun around to get my bearings. “They could have taken the train.”

“At that time of night, the express trains run local. There’s a lot more pickup and drop-off points.”

“So they killed Gardner, stopped at the liquor store, and then dumped the car here.”

“Or they killed Gardner, dumped the car, took the train, rode it three stops to 24/7 Spirits, and walked home.”

I turned to look at the burned car. “We need to pin down the timeline. It might give us their location.”

Fennel agreed, and we headed into the subway station to check the schedule before going back to the precinct. Since the traffic cam footage led us to the car, we already knew roughly what time the killers abandoned it in the alley. Now we needed to figure out how long it’d take to get from that stop to the one closest to the liquor store. Since Gardner’s credit card had been used at 5:17 a.m. and the disarm code had been entered at 4:12 a.m. at Star Cleaners, that only gave us a fifty-five minute window. Could the duo have driven from the dry cleaner’s to the alley, hopped a train, walked to the liquor store, and made a purchase in such a short amount of time?

After updating Lt. Winston and having our team of techs shift their focus to studying the camera feeds inside the subway stations from yesterday morning and compare them to the images we pulled of the men from this morning, Fennel and I performed some basic calculations.

“They dumped the car first,” I declared. “It’s the only way. Traffic cam footage puts the silver sedan in the vicinity of that alleyway at 4:42. That’s the last hit we have before they entered one of the blind spots in our grid. According to the subway schedule, the train arrived at 4:50. That gave them eight minutes to torch the car and get to the train.”

“It only took us three minutes to get to the train from that alley. Five minutes is plenty of time to douse it with gasoline and light it up.” He checked the schedule. “They could have gotten off at either the third or fourth stop since the liquor store is practically in the middle.”

“Do you think they stuck together?”

“Probably not. It’d increase their chances of getting caught. But then again, we don’t know the dynamics of their partnership. They might not trust one another. Not everyone’s as lucky as we are.”

“Why are you buttering me up?” I asked.

“I’m not. It’s just an observation.”

“Uh-huh.” But I wasn’t convinced. “Regardless, how long do you think it takes to walk four blocks from the train to the liquor store?”

“At that time of night, probably not long. That’s a fifth of a mile, and it’s not like the sidewalks are congested. Five minutes, maybe.”

“Okay, so two minutes per stop, that’s four minutes of waiting, plus travel time. Plus the five minutes walking.”

Fennel smiled. “That’s nine minutes. And figure another fifteen on the train.”

“That gave the killer three minutes to buy his bottle of Jack.”

“Does 24/7 Spirits have a display near the register?”

“No, the clerk said it was all along the back wall, middle shelf, near the coolers.”

Fennel thought. “It doesn’t take me three minutes to buy booze, unless there’s a line or I have to hunt for what I want. If I go to my usual place by my apartment, it’s not an issue.”

“Are you sure you don’t have a problem?”

“Loads.” He grinned. “But you see my point.”

“The killer’s been there before.”

“Yep.”

“You think he lives around there?” I let out a sigh. “That’s a ballsy move, using his victim’s credit card at his favorite liquor store.”

Fennel uncapped the marker, jotted down our timeline on the whiteboard, and leaned back against the table. “Yeah, you’re right. They must know using Gardner’s credit card at any location would attract our attention, which would explain why they haven’t used it again. Maybe he thought he was in the clear.”

“They had the cash from Star Cleaners. They didn’t need to use plastic to pay. They wanted to lure us there for a specific reason.”

“Another misdirect?” Fennel asked. “Or are we just overthinking things? Maybe we’re giving these shitheads too much credit.”

“I don’t think they’re stupid. But they are lucky.”

“Speaking of lucky,” Voletek said, entering the conference room, “here I am.” He grinned. “We just got back from speaking to Rook’s next of kin.”

“We also followed up with Jeffers’ and Croft’s widows too,” Lisco added, entering behind him. She studied the board. “We’ll show you ours and then you can show us yours.”

“Deal,” Fennel said.

As predicted, nothing Lisco and Voletek learned contradicted what we’d already determined about the LockBox employees – they were clean. However, we didn’t know they’d been forced to sign NDAs concerning their clients and job details. Given the circumstances, the company had shared details on their routes and clients with us, but we hadn’t exactly asked for dollars and cents, just a list of lucrative targets and of which of those Lindsey Rook possessed intimate knowledge.

“The company even provides life insurance policies and death benefits,” Voletek concluded. “I’m thinking a change of career is in order.”

Lisco rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, Rook’s near and dear didn’t even know the details of his job. None of these guys talk. I’m guessing they talk to each other, and that’s about it. The LockBox crew is tight.”

“But it wouldn’t be hard for the killers to get wind of this. All armored