Thick Fog (Alexis Parker Book 18)

by G. K. Parks

  The look on Davis’ face said it all. At best, Jablonsky’s chances were slim. The shooter must have figured Mark would bleed out before help arrived. As it stood, no one knew if he’d even make it off the table.

  “He doesn’t think Jablonsky has a chance in hell of surviving.”

  “Let’s not go there. It doesn’t matter what the shooter thinks. All that matters is we figure out who he is, why he went after Jablonsky, and what that has to do with you.”

  “It might not have anything to do with me.”

  Davis gave me a ‘yeah right’ look. “He called you. He told you to show up. Why didn’t he wait for you? Obviously, he wanted you there. If he’d just waited, he could have taken care of two birds with one stone.”

  “The sirens must have spooked him. Police and EMTs arrived before I did. The shooter might be arrogant, but he’s careful. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I’d call for help.” I stared at Davis. “What makes you think he wants to kill me too?”

  “Seems to me if a thug makes a call like that, he has more than one victim in mind.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I have no idea why he called me, but by the time I got there, he was long gone.”

  “Unless there’s no mystery shooter, and you’re behind it,” Davis said. The look on his face didn’t give anything away.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “You better be fucking kidding me.”

  Davis shrugged. “I’m just stating a fact. Your financials have been all over the place lately.”

  “So what? That can be explained.”

  “I’m sure it can,” he said, “just like how the only prints we found inside Jablonsky’s house belonged to the first responders and you.”

  “The shooter must have worn gloves.”

  “I’m sure he did.”

  If Davis kept this up, he’d be eating through a straw for the next six weeks. “Do you want to ask me something, Agent Davis?”

  “No.” He didn’t ask for an explanation. And I didn’t volunteer one.

  “Kendall asked about my whereabouts at the time of the shooting. Is my name on your suspect list?”

  “Should it be?”

  I moved closer until I was standing inches from Davis. “Are the interrogation rooms full? Is that why you’re doing this in here?”

  “C’mon, Parker, sit down. I’m just doing my job. I want this guy as much as you do. No one who knows you would ever think you could hurt Jablonsky, but you have to admit, it looks weird. You say the shooter called you, but he used Jablonsky’s phone. There’s no evidence saying anyone else was inside the house.”

  “The two slugs in Jablonsky’s torso say someone else was in the house. As soon as they’re removed, you can run the ballistics. I guarantee they aren’t mine.”

  “Why do you think the shooter called you?”

  “He called to hurt me.” Martin and I had the same conversation. It was the only thing that made sense. “Or to tease me.” I backed away and turned to stare out the window. “I’ve heard his voice before, but I can’t place it.”

  “That changes things,” Davis said, even though I didn’t see how. “We should focus on old cases, investigations you and Jablonsky worked together.”

  “No shit. I thought you said you were already doing that.” One of us was several steps behind, and for once, I didn’t think it was me.

  “We thought Jablonsky reached out to you to get help on a current case and got himself in a bind. We assumed the beef was recent. The shooting could have been a warning. Maybe someone wanted you and Jablonsky to back off of whatever you’re working on. Are you sure he hasn’t asked for your help on anything?”

  “Jablonsky doesn’t ask for my help. That scenario works in reverse. And sometimes, he helps even when I don’t ask. He always knows when I’m in trouble.” I gulped down the bile that burned the back of my throat. How would I survive without him? Shaking off the thought, I returned to the table and pulled out the list I started in the hospital waiting room.

  “You recognized the voice.” Davis marked out the notes he’d written himself. “Our priority should be evaluating old cases since you said there’s been nothing recent. It has to be someone from your joint past.”

  “Has anyone recently been released from prison? He should be at the top of the list.”

  “You think someone’s holding a grudge?” Davis asked.

  “Don’t they all hold grudges?”

  Davis skimmed the list I’d written. “This is a start.”

  “I guess.” I stared at him. “Look, you have my permission to check whatever you need. Verify my alibi, run my financials, my phone records, whatever, I don’t care. Just don’t waste too much time. I didn’t do this, and I don’t know who did. But he’s out there, walking around while Mark fights for his life. So either you find the bastard responsible, or I will.”

  “We’re on the same side, Parker. We will get this guy. Your input has been invaluable. And for the record, I know you didn’t do it. But I had to ask. I’m sure you understand why.”

  “Yep, but I don’t have to like it.”

  “I am sorry.” Davis made some notes. “Once we have a firm suspect list established and we’ve had time to make the appropriate calls, we’ll have more questions. You said you recognized the guy’s voice. So you’ll be able to identify it if you hear it again, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  Davis met my eyes. “What’s the problem?”

  “Everything’s jumbled. I can’t make any promises.”

  “Have you slept?”

  I shook my head.

  “That might help,” he said.

  “I can’t, not until I know if he’s…that he’s going to be okay.”

  “All right, I’ll get started on this. Just give me a sec and I’ll have someone take you back to the hospital and make sure the detail adds you to the approved list as soon as you’re cleared.”

  “Director Kendall said he would take care of it.”

  “I’ll make sure he does.” Davis held out his hand, and we shook. But he didn’t let go. “You’ve always worked tirelessly on these cases. I don’t have any doubts you’ll be working around the clock to figure this out. When you do, call it in.”

  “Any chance I can convince you to keep me updated on the investigation?” I asked.

  Davis shrugged one shoulder. “We’ll see.” He let go and pushed open the door to the conference room.

  “I don’t need a ride,” I said. “There’s no reason to waste an agent’s time when it could be better spent looking for the shooter.”

  Davis nodded and headed back to his desk. Halfway there, he turned around. “Parker, be careful. There’s a chance the bastard might contact you again.”

  “I’ll be ready if he does,” I said, even though I didn’t feel ready for anything.

  Four

  Before returning to the hospital I detoured to my office. I checked my phone every five minutes to make sure I had a strong signal and didn’t miss a call or text, but my phone was fine. I just didn’t know if Mark was.

  Pushing the chair out of the way, I logged into the computer and checked my messages but found nothing except the usual memos and requests. But it was Sunday. Lucien Cross didn’t expect his investigators to hold normal business hours on the weekend. So, as usual, the thirtieth floor remained quiet.

  I tapped a few keys, opened the databases, and performed a quick check to see if any similar incidents had been reported recently. “This is a waste,” I mumbled to myself. The files I needed were at home. But I performed a few more searches and sent a request upstairs to pull whatever footage they could find at the time of the shooting. Jablonsky’s townhouse was situated in a residential area, but maybe nearby cameras caught a glimpse of the shooter leaving the neighborhood or arriving.

  There had to be more I could do. Cross Security was supposed to be the best. Lucien Cross earned that reputation, so it was time I put it to use.

  I looked down
at my phone. Even though the investigators didn’t hold office hours on the weekend, Cross Security had twenty-four hour tech support. So I grabbed my stuff and jogged up the steps. The level above housed lab equipment, crime scene specialists, evidence collection experts and analysts, and enough computer equipment to make Bill Gates jealous.

  A tech greeted me at the front desk. “Ms. Parker,” she said, as if she expected me, “what do you need today?”

  “A miracle.”

  “Specifically?”

  So I told her about the call I received in the middle of the night. “I know where it originated. It came from a landline, but I don’t know who the caller is.”

  She took my phone and brought up the call log, finding the exact time. “What’s the address?”

  I gave her Mark’s home address, which she entered into the computer along with the date and time. “I already e-mailed a request for nearby video surveillance footage,” I said. “Whatever can be scrounged up. Traffic cams, private networks, it doesn’t matter just as long as I get an ID on this guy.”

  “Hopefully, that’ll pan out, but I’ll do some checking anyway. It’s possible the caller had a cell phone on him, even though he didn’t use it. I’ll see what phones were pinged in the vicinity around that time. It’ll take a while to track the data and compile a list of users. In a city this large, we could be looking at thousands of hits. I can’t make any guarantees he’ll even be in the mix, but it’s worth a try.”

  “I’m grateful for anything you can do,” I said, doing my best not to think about the legal ramifications and privacy violations. “E-mail me whatever you get, as soon as you have it.”

  “Will do.”

  I turned and headed down the steps. This was a long shot. A needle in a haystack. Our best bet for finding the shooter was stuffed in the closet of my home office. I checked the time again. I’d swing by the precinct and see what Lt. Moretti had planned before going home.

  I couldn’t help but think I should be at the hospital now. Maybe I should wait on the files. What if something happened during surgery and I wasn’t there? I ducked back into my office to call Martin for an update. Before I even pulled out my phone, someone cleared his throat.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  I jumped, turning to face the source of the sound. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked.

  Cross leaned against the doorjamb. “It doesn’t matter.” He scrutinized me. “You should have called. I would have gotten started on this hours ago. How are you holding up? Is there anything I can do?”

  “You know?”

  He nodded.

  “Of course you know. You know everything.” I slammed my chair against the desk. “Why do you care? You don’t even like Mark.”

  “That doesn’t mean I want to see him hurt. He matters to you and James. Therefore, he matters to me and this company.”

  I snorted, the pieces connecting. “Martin called you.”

  “We are business partners.”

  “Not really. You’ll just do anything for his R&D on biotextiles.”

  Cross’s expression remained neutral. “Alex, you know you have unlimited access to my resources, to the company’s resources, so tell me what I can do.”

  “I already put in my requests.” And now I understood why the woman upstairs had been waiting for me.

  “What else do you need?” he asked gently.

  On a good day, Cross and I tolerated one another, but we often butted heads. His unexpected kindness sliced through the barrier I constructed to contain the emotional storm raging inside of me. One more sympathetic look from him, and I’d crumble.

  “What I need is for Mark to be okay. What I need is for this to be a bad dream. What I need is more time. So unless you have a time machine upstairs, I’m not sure what else you can do.” I bit my lip, focusing my efforts on stopping my chin from quivering.

  Lucien took a step toward me but kept his hands in his pockets. At least he didn’t plan on giving me a hug. I’d probably shoot him if he did because that one move would break me. And I didn’t have time to break.

  “I’ll speak to Amir and see if he has any ideas,” Lucien said. “He might have some schematics drawn up.”

  I looked at my boss. I had yet to figure out when he was joking, but that had to be a joke. However, he said it with such a straight face I couldn’t be sure. “Yeah, okay.” I moved past him and out the door.

  “Hey.” Lucien grabbed my arm as I reached to press the elevator button. I gasped, wincing as if his touch had burned me. “Every badge in the city is hunting this monster. They’ll get him.”

  “I’m not sure it’ll even matter.”

  Lucien looked at me. “Mark Jablonsky is an arrogant, egotistical, self-righteous know-it-all, who thinks old-fashioned techniques are the only tried and true way of working an investigation. He’s wrong about a lot of things, and when I pointed them out at the symposium we attended, he conveniently ignored what I had to say and insisted on pounding his practices and mantras into me. He’s stubborn. Bullets can’t kill a man like that. He’ll pull through. I’d stake my reputation on it.”

  For the briefest moment, the thought of hitting Lucien entered my mind, but he didn’t say those things out of malice. He said them to make a point. “Do you really think he’ll be okay?” I asked.

  “I do. And so should you.” The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Lucien put his hand against the door as I stepped inside. “If you need anything, call me. Understand?”

  “Thanks, Cross.”

  He bowed his head. By the time the doors closed, Lucien had disappeared down the hall. This really was an all-hands kind of situation.

  * * *

  I arrived at the precinct in a daze. It was mid-morning. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even be awake yet. Now I felt like I was sleepwalking through one of my worst nightmares.

  “Parker,” Detective Derek Heathcliff jogged over to me, “how’s Jablonsky?”

  “Not good.”

  “I was out on a call when you phoned. O’Connell and Thompson said they got there quickly, but it wasn’t fast enough. I should have been there.”

  “It’s not your fault, Derek.”

  “It’s not yours either.”

  I sighed. “The bastard called me after he did it.”

  “Shit.” Derek rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Have you checked the phone logs?”

  “He used Mark’s home phone, but I have Cross Security doing what they can.” I jerked my chin toward the stairs which led to the major crimes unit. “I thought I’d see what you guys have found in the meantime.”

  “Yeah, no problem.” Heathcliff reversed course, and I realized for the first time he must have been on his way out. “I’ll escort you upstairs.”

  “If you gotta go,” I said, jerking my thumb toward the entrance, “I don’t want to keep you.”

  “No, I was actually on my way to the hospital.” He led the way up the steps. “Ballistics should be analyzing the slug right about now.”

  “They removed the bullets?”

  “Bullet,” Heathcliff said. “I don’t know if the FBI split the evidence with us. I’ve been out all night on a liquor store shooting. I haven’t had a chance to get caught up on everything else yet. But that’s what I heard as I was leaving. I figured you’d catch me up.”

  “Just as soon as someone catches me up,” I promised.

  The major crimes unit was bustling. Lt. Dominic Moretti stood in the center of the room, his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face. Normally, he reminded me of a bulldog with drooping jowls. This morning, he looked like an attack dog, ready to rip someone apart. And from the way the cops under his command behaved, they must have had the same thought.

  “Parker,” Moretti said, “we need to talk.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He jerked his chin to the side, and I went into his office. Heathcliff went back to his desk, searching the drawers for something he pretended t
o have forgotten. A few moments later, Moretti stepped inside, slamming the door behind him. The blinds rattled against the window, and I sat up even straighter.

  “Thanks for calling.” He rested his hips against the edge of the desk. “The Feds suggested we investigate together. It’ll increase the chances of finding the shooter quickly. Honestly, I think Kendall just wants to make sure emotions aren’t clouding anyone’s better judgment.” Moretti snorted. “Funny how wrong he is.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Moretti shook away the sentiment. “Thanks for coming in. It saved me making a trip. What do you know so far?”

  So I told him everything, which was next to nothing. Unlike Agent Davis, Lt. Moretti didn’t interrupt or accuse me of shooting Mark or hiring the hitman. “The voice is familiar. I’m guessing it’s someone Mark and I investigated and possibly arrested.”

  “That’d be my guess. The OIO’s supposed to be looking into recent releases and parolees. But if it’s someone you and Mark put away, he probably served a couple of years. That would explain the lag between your investigation and this bastard seeking revenge. Did he threaten you too?”

  “Not in so many words.”

  “Be that as it may, you should watch your back. He shot a supervisory special agent asleep in bed. That sends the message he doesn’t give a fuck about consequences. And he called you. So he can reach you if he wants.”

  “I’m not–”

  “I know. You’re not worried about that right now. But it’s something you should keep in the back of your mind. In the meantime, Mark’s in our thoughts and prayers, yeah?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He grunted. “You still with Cross Security?”

  “I’m a private contractor.”

  “What does that mean? Do they have your back on this or not?”

  “Cross said he’ll assist in any way possible, but he doesn’t like involving himself in police matters. I requested a list of cell phone users in the vicinity and any video footage they can find that could lead to identifying the shooter. I’m just not sure how legal it is.”