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

my work schedule should take priority over my class schedule. So I told him what he could do with the job.”

“How long did you work there?” I asked.

Fennel wandered toward the kitchen table and scanned the stack of textbooks.

“I got the job right after finals and worked through the break, so a few weeks. He knew when he hired me I was working on my bachelor’s. I’m a senior.”

“European history?” Fennel held up one of the textbooks.

“No, economics. But I failed history my freshman year, and I’ve been putting off retaking it. Now I don’t have a choice.”

“And you can’t afford to fail again,” I said.

She gave me a determined look. “I won’t. Nothing’s going to stop me this time.”

“Where were you between the hours of three and five this morning?” Fennel asked.

“I was still at the library at three. Then I came back here to get some sleep before my eight a.m. class.” She gave me a bewildered look, and I noted the dark circles beneath her eyes. “Why? What happened? Did something happen to Mr. Lee?”

“Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts?” Fennel asked.

She blinked a few times. “No, I was here by myself. I was sleeping.”

“Do you know Jonathan Gardner?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“According to Mr. Lee, you know how to disarm Star Cleaners’ security system,” I said. “Have you ever done that? Or have you shared the disarm code with anyone else?”

Her waffle popped, and she reached for it, slathering butter and jam on it before taking a bite. “No,” she said while she chewed, “I wouldn’t give out the code. I only used it twice, those two days he had me open for him.” She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t even remember it if it didn’t spell out STAR.”

“What?” Fennel asked.

“You know, like on the telephone. The numbers coordinate with the letters.” She looked embarrassed. “On the keypad, each number has letters above it. So I just hit the digits to make the word. It was easy enough.”

“And the code spells out STAR.” That didn’t make the security system seem particularly secure, but I wasn’t sure how many people would think to do that. Then again, after trying the street number and 1-2-3-4, that would probably be the next logical guess.

“For the record, you never told anyone that?” Fennel asked.

“Why would I? It’s not like I had someone picking up my shifts at the dry cleaner’s. Twelve hour days in the steamy back with those stinky chemicals and stinkier clothing.” She crinkled her nose. “No one I know is desperate enough to work in a place like that for a miser like Mr. Lee.” She gulped down some coffee. “I have to get ready.”

“Do you own a gun?” Fennel asked.

“No.” She shifted her gaze from my partner to me. “Is Mr. Lee okay? I might not have liked him as a boss, but he’s still a person.”

“He’s fine,” I said. “Do you mind if we look around?”

“Help yourself, just make it quick. I can’t be late for class.”

“Sure thing.” Fennel and I checked the apartment, but we didn’t find a gun, bloody clothing, or broken glass. Nothing indicated Ms. Rivera had been anywhere near Star Cleaners. “Thanks for your time. We may be back to follow up.”

“Follow up on what?” she asked as we made our way to the door. “You still haven’t told me what happened.”

I glanced at my partner. He wanted to play this close to the vest. “Don’t worry about it.” I jerked my chin at her textbooks. “You have more important things to think about. Good luck.”

She smiled, but her eyes held a question. “Uh, thanks.”

Brad and I didn’t speak until we were inside the cruiser. “I don’t think she did it,” he said. “And given the security code, anyone could have guessed it.”

“Still, according to the security logs, the code was only entered once. That’s a lucky first guess.” But I didn’t think she was responsible either. “Let’s move on to the next name on the list.”

“Roger that.” Brad turned the key in the ignition.

Sgt. Chambliss had patrol officers checking the same things we were checking, but since patrol had to conduct a canvass and probably grab coffee, I had a feeling we’d get through the entire list before they did.

The next name on the list was Guy Kellerman. He still worked at Star Cleaners but hadn’t been scheduled to work the rest of the week. When we knocked on his door, no one answered. After some quick checking and a few calls, we discovered Mr. Kellerman had gone on vacation and flew out yesterday afternoon.

We spoke to him on the phone, but he claimed he never gave out the security code. When asked if he knew Jonathan Gardner, he told me he did not. Since he wasn’t in town, had no priors, and a pregnant wife, I decided his alibi was airtight.

“Check his social media for overlap,” Fennel said as he drove to the next location.

“How could Kellerman kill someone from hundreds of miles away?” I asked, but I checked anyway. Besides working for Star Cleaners, Guy Kellerman also worked as a janitor at the baseball stadium. He just picked up the gig with Mr. Lee in order to put some money away in case his wife decided to become a stay-at-home mom after their little one was born. “I don’t see anything.”

Brad rubbed the backs of his fingers against his freshly shaved cheek. “This is a waste.”

“You said no stone, remember?”

He growled and reached for the radio. Patrol had already questioned Pamela Aiker, the other current Star Cleaners employee. She also had an airtight alibi, but since she was the delivery driver, she used the code the most. “She could have