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

have. LockBox is the only other entity that knows the extent of what’s going on, and even they only know about the potential risk.”

“If Axel blabs, what will that do to your career?”

“It’s a calculated risk. And one I have no problem taking.” Brad rubbed his face. “But he won’t blab.”

“Probably not, but he might blackmail you.”

“So be it.”

I pointed to the fancy gift basket. “In that case, that’s your bribe. Not mine.”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

I sat up, resting my elbows on my knees and holding my head in my hands. “I never thought I’d see the day where you went to Kincaid for help.”

“He’s helped us in the past. This isn’t any different.”

But after our last encounter, Brad’s already negative opinion of the car thief turned club owner had decreased further. I just wondered how many lines my partner would cross or the compromises he’d make to nail these bastards. “Don’t lose who you are or what you stand for. I don’t want to lose you.”

He stared into my eyes. “You know me, Liv. You might be the only person who does. I know where the line is. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“At least tell me Axel gave you something solid.”

“He’s going to ask around and see what he can find out. In the meantime,” Brad returned to the whiteboard, “Jake thinks he’s on to something. We went over the prison records. Three weeks ago, Diego’s cellmate was released from prison. He has a record of violence. Everything from assault and battery to voluntary manslaughter. The prosecutor pursued murder charges, but the jury didn’t go for it. They convicted under the lesser sentence.”

“What’s his name?”

“Brandon Tarelli.” Fennel handed me the tablet. “While you were getting your beauty rest, I was digging into him. He’s a former military contractor, who went to work for a security firm before he let his anger issues get out of line.”

“Not regular military?”

“No, but that would explain the training and his knowledge of disarming security systems. Jake’s hoping to get his hands on a recording for you to listen to.”

“That would help.” I eyed Tarelli’s mugshot. He was older than I imagined, but he’d been in prison for quite some time.

“He had his hip and knee replaced in prison after a fight broke out and an overzealous guard went a little crazy with the baton.”

“That fits the bill.” I stared at Tarelli’s mugshot and tried to imagine what he’d look like wearing a plastic Halloween mask. “But I’m not sure.”

“Well, it’s a mugshot. Not even a good one. The guy looks like a madman with frizzed out hair and gnarly teeth.”

“Do we know where he is now?”

“We went by his last known address, but it’s been boarded up.”

“Has he checked in with his parole officer. He could be in a halfway house or something.”

“No dice. Tarelli doesn’t have a PO. He didn’t get an early release. He ran out the clock.”

“So he served a full term.”

“What do you expect with that kind of behavior?”

I skimmed the page. He fought often with other inmates, had been found with contraband, and had generally done whatever it took to make his stay even less pleasant. “I’m surprised they didn’t tack more time on to his sentence.”

“Me too, but I’m guessing after the beating he took, the state didn’t want to accidentally open a can of worms.”

“What about before his arrest?”

“Jake’s checking with Tarelli’s ex-wife and whatever family he’s got left to see if anyone has seen or heard from him. According to prison records, the only person who ever visited was his lawyer, and that stopped once his appeal was denied.”

“Does Axel know him?”

“No, according to Mr. Fancy Pants, he wouldn’t associate with anyone like that.”

I read Tarelli’s record again. “I doubt they ever traveled in the same circles. This guy’s nothing but a bully and a barroom brawler.” One glaringly obvious omission struck me. “He’s not a thief.”

“Kincaid?”

“No, he’s definitely a thief. But Tarelli’s not.” I held out the tablet for Brad to reread.

“That would explain why so many people have gotten killed. Tarelli’s out, and now he wants revenge.”

Brad didn’t say it, but I knew what he was thinking. A guy like Tarelli would have no qualms about writing a threatening message in a slain cop’s blood. And I couldn’t argue with that kind of logic.

Thirty-nine

The police are on the way. Get out now. Tarelli read the text one more time. This wasn’t good. It’s not what he planned. But this unexpected turn of events could work in his favor. He intended to kill Carter anyway. This would save him the trouble and hopefully lead the police on a wild goose chase. Then he could enact his actual plan. By the time anyone figured out what was really happening, it’d be too late. He smiled. This would be fun.

“I’m gonna grab a burger. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Hey, can you get me a soda?” Carter asked. “My stomach’s not feeling so good.”

“Really, I hadn’t noticed.” Tarelli rolled his eyes.

“Dude, I can’t help it. You make me nervous. This,” Carter waved his hand around the room, “makes me nervous. Diego too. That’s why he went on a whiskey run.”

“I don’t care how nervous you get. You stay here. I mean it. You better be here when I get back or else you’ll have plenty of reasons to toss your cookies.”

Carter held up his palms. “Where the hell would I even go?”

“Good.” Tarelli collected a few things, tucked a gun into the holster at the small of his back, and stuck the second one into the opened cardboard box. He picked it up, making sure he had everything he needed for his plan. The subway