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

“No, nothing. Just battling a hellacious hangover. You know how those go.” Carter headed for the hallway. “Stay right here. I’ll get Mike for you.” Voices emanated from down the hall, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

I kept watch while Fennel examined every inch of the living room. He found an empty ashtray and a vase that doubled as a bong but no contraband. Fennel stopped in front of the entertainment center and knelt down, examining the lower shelves. When I heard a doorknob turn, I cleared my throat. Fennel stood up and straightened his jacket.

A moment later, Carter returned. “Mike’s getting dressed. He’ll be right out.” He leaned against the wall. The nervousness had been replaced by an unsettling mellow. Maybe they’d been smoking in the bedrooms. “Want to tell me what this is about, officers?”

“Was Mike here all night?” I asked.

Carter stared at me and licked his lips. “Not all night. We spent most of the night at a strip club.” He chuckled. “Bachelor party.” He eyed me again. “None of those women even came close to holding a candle to you. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

“Thanks,” Fennel said, “I exfoliate.”

Carter turned to look at my partner. “What?”

“Who’s getting married?” Fennel asked.

“Huh?” Carter grew even more confused.

“You said you were at a bachelor party. Who’s getting married?” Fennel asked again.

“Oh, um, my buddy. Well, he’s really Mike’s buddy. Mike got the invite. I just tagged along. Who wouldn’t?” Carter swallowed. “So yeah, that’s where we were until like….” He blinked a few times. “Four. And then we called a car to drive us back.”

“What strip club?” I asked.

“Dimples.”

Another man stumbled down the hallway, using both hands to bounce off one wall and then the other, like a pinball. He got to the end and dropped into a recliner. Even disheveled, this guy looked like his profile pictures.

“Michael Tolliver?” I asked.

He forced his eyes open and leaned his head back to look up at me. “Yeah. What can I do for you? Carter said the police were here.” He caught sight of my badge and gun beneath my jacket. “I thought he was lying. I thought you might have been a strippergram. Do they still have those?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Sorry.” He held up his palms. “Is this about last night? We paid our tab. And the girl in the cake, that was supposed to have been taken care of.”

“That’s not why we’re here.” I glanced at Fennel. It’d be best if we split up. “May we speak in the kitchen, Mr. Tolliver?”

Michael hauled himself out of the chair. “Yeah. I need coffee. And water. And aspirin.”

I followed him into the kitchen while Fennel continued to drill Carter about the bachelor party and details on their whereabouts.

“I’m sorry to bother you so early in the morning. But you work for Star Cleaners, right?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Mr. Tolliver opened a cabinet and grabbed a box of instant coffee. Then he reached for a mug. “Would you like some?”

I would love some. But something about this place and these men left me uneasy. “No, thanks.”

He nodded before filling a mug with tap water and placing it inside the microwave. “Did something happen at work?”

“There was a break-in. Mr. Lee said you had the access code.” I watched Tolliver’s expression carefully, but his surprise was genuine.

“I didn’t do it. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Shit.” He took the mug out and stirred the coffee crystals into it. “Look, whatever you need, Detective…?”

“DeMarco,” I said. “I’ll need names of the people who can vouch for you, what time you left the strip club, all of that.”

He clung to the counter as he made his way toward an abandoned smart phone. He tapped on the screen a few times, blinking in an attempt to focus what must have been blurry double-vision. “Here’s the receipt from my rideshare.” He held out the device. “And Gary saw me. Hell, everyone did. There were like a million of us there. If you check the photo roll, there are probably pictures. I’m not sure if there’s a timestamp or whatever.”

I read the receipt. Carter was right. They didn’t leave until four, when the club closed. After copying down all the pertinent information, I checked Tolliver’s recent photos. “I thought strip clubs didn’t allow flash photography.”

“Not of the girls on stage, but Gary’s brother rented out the entire place. We were the only ones there. So it shouldn’t have been a problem.”

“What happened with the girl in the cake?” I asked.

He blushed. “Nothing. She was great. Delicious. No, Tasty.” He turned a deeper shade of crimson. “That was her stage name. Apparently, she cost extra. Or the cake did. I don’t know, but Bart’s credit card got declined. I think Willie or Kevin picked up the tab.”

He came over and pointed to the screen. “That’s Willie. That’s Gary. The one with the bra on his head, that’s Kevin.”

I thumbed back through the photographs, finding more shots of the group outside the club. Twenty-three men had gone to the bachelor party. I handed Tolliver my notepad. “I need names and whatever numbers you have, just in case. Where did you go after the club?”

“Several of us came back here for the after party.” Tolliver gulped down some coffee. “Half of them are passed out on my bedroom floor, if you want to ask them any questions.”

“Liv,” Fennel called, stepping into the kitchen, “you almost through in here?”

“Do you know Jonathan Gardner?” I asked.

Tolliver blew on the rising steam and took a sip. “He’s the night watchman. Why? Did he say I did this?”

“No, sir,” Fennel said. “He’s dead.”

“Dead?” Tolliver sputtered, choking on coffee. “No way. I