Calculated Risk (A Cross Security Investigation Book 2)

by G. K. Parks

  “Evening,” I said, holding out my identification and credentials.

  He read my name. The “oh shit” registering a moment later. “Mr. Cross, we received a report that you brandished a firearm and threatened a man.”

  I nodded at the cards in his hand. “That’s my carry permit.”

  “You’re not going to deny it?”

  “I have a weapon. As you can see, it is not on me at the moment.” I kept my hands on the steering wheel. Cops were jumpy. It was best not to give them reasons to freak out. “As far as threatening a man, I believe that might have been a misunderstanding. The asshole in question, Danny Foster, admitted to stalking me. He attempted to intimidate Jade McNamara and scared the poor woman into fleeing the city. He’s a menace. If he wants to press charges, I’d like to do the same.”

  The cop handed back my credentials and rubbed his neck. “Mr. Cross, no one is pressing any charges, but it’d be best if you head home.”

  “I agree.”

  The cop gave me a final look. “Drive safe.”

  “Yep.” I rolled up my window, watching as the officers walked back to their car. They didn’t leave until I pulled away.

  Twenty

  I didn’t go home. Instead, I went back to the office. My hands were still shaking when I turned the key in the lock and pushed my way inside. This had to stop. Forcing a few breaths into my lungs, I checked the computer. Facial rec continued searching for the assholes who attacked Freddy.

  So far, I’d threatened two men due to the SUV, and I still had no idea if anyone had been following me. Grabbing a notepad, I tried to recall events in the proper order. My timeline had some holes, but until Jade said she’d been followed, presumably by Danny Foster, I hadn’t noticed anyone tailing me. And ever since then, I’d been hypervigilant at observing all vehicles within my vicinity.

  Grabbing my computer, I did a quick check to see if I could connect any dots between Danny Foster and Scott Renwin. It didn’t take more than a few minutes to find Scott’s name in Danny’s list. I checked the memorial page which remained, ignoring all the sickening posts celebrating what a wonderful man Scott was. Lies, I thought.

  Danny had donated to the charitable organization Scott’s mother had chosen. At least the bastard told me the truth. Frankly, I didn’t care how Danny connected to Scott. He hadn’t been there for his friend when his life unraveled. He hadn’t been there to stop him from raising a hand to Jade or threatening her life. As far as I was concerned, I had no use for Danny.

  The familiar twinge in my back reminded me being too tense wasn’t healthy, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t force myself to relax. So I dug deeper.

  Danny worked until after midnight, just like he claimed. However, since two other men attacked Freddy, I pulled a few more strings and analyzed Danny’s phone records. From what I could tell, he didn’t hire anyone or phone his buddies to beat up Freddy or deliver a message to me. This was a dead end. I had to let it go.

  “Enough.” Pushing away from the computer, I stared up at the clock. It was almost six. An hour to go. If I didn’t do something for the next sixty minutes, I’d go insane.

  The one bright light about this cramped office was the shower I had installed in the bathroom. Justin and Gloria thought I was crazy when I cut out half the vanity and stuck a tiny square stall in the already too small bathroom, but I thought it might come in handy.

  After showering and changing clothes, I felt like a new man, calmer and more rational. My brain had finally given up on the possibility I’d been followed, which meant the goons who attacked Freddy had done so because of the questions he’d asked. Everyone knew Freddy didn’t procure items for himself, so somehow, the attackers deduced the collector’s ring was for me.

  Who had Freddy contacted? He always kept his connections private, but I needed to know. I’d asked him numerous times, but he wouldn’t budge, even after having the snot kicked out of him.

  I considered all the ways I could find Freddy’s contacts, but he was careful. He used unregistered phones that changed weekly, possibly daily. He kept one number for his clients to use to contact him, but he never used that line to procure items. It was smart. Law enforcement agencies would have trouble pinning him down, should his actions prove illegal. So how was I supposed to track him?

  His internet activity was hidden behind a VPN and other ingenious protections. At this rate, I should probably hire him to work for me. Freddy had a car, but he rarely used it. His location always changed. At the moment, he was housesitting. Before that he had rented a condo, and before that it had been a hotel room.

  Since I was unsure how to track Freddy’s movements, I couldn’t help but wonder how his attackers had found him. He didn’t broadcast his address, except to clients and friends. That made me pause. How did they find him? Did they track Freddy? Or did they track me?

  “Shit.” I ran a hand through my hair before realizing what I was doing and forcing myself to stop. That was one tell I had to eliminate. “And you’ve come full circle.” Letting out a frustrated sigh, I picked up the phone and dialed Knox.

  “Hello?” Knox sounded tired.

  6:45, that was close enough. “Morning, Mr. Knox. This is Lucien Cross.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “What isn’t?” I fought to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “I’m e-mailing you a photo now. Tell me who these men are.” I sent a copy of the still taken from the surveillance footage to Knox and waited.

  Knox’s phone emitted several clicks before he said, “Um…I’m not sure.”

  “Have you seen them before?”

  “Um…maybe.”

  “And around and around we go.” Again, we were playing the same game. The longer this went on, the more I wanted to get off this carousel. “Do you know either of them?”

  “I’m not sure. The one on the left, with the darker hair and the scar on his cheek, I think I’ve seen him before.”

  “Where?”

  “Um…”

  “Help me out here. Could it have been at work?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “At one of the auction houses or trade shows?”

  “They’re sports collectors conventions,” Knox corrected. “But to answer your question, no it wasn’t there.”

  “Then where?”

  “A bar maybe.”

  “Okay, which one?”

  “Um…”

  Luckily, the call was on speaker or I would have thrown the phone in frustration. While Knox thought about it, I pulled up a copy of his credit card statement and checked to see which bars he’d been to recently.

  “It might have been McGinty’s, but I can’t be certain. He might work there. I feel like I’ve seen that scar on a bouncer or something.”

  “Does McGinty’s have bouncers?” Sports bars usually didn’t, but bar fights were common enough, especially in establishments where betting occurred.

  “The dishwasher or busboy or whatever doubles as security, I think.”

  “Fine. I’ll check it out.”

  “Is that necessary?”

  I stopped. “Why wouldn’t it be necessary?”

  “I thought you said you had a lead on getting back the ring and my other stuff. What does that have to do with these two guys in the photo?”

  “Possibly everything.”

  “Are you sure?” Knox asked. “Like I said, I’m not even sure if I recognize that one. It just seems like a lot of extra trouble to go to for no reason.”

  “You hired me to do a job for you. That’s what I’m doing.”

  “Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He hung up.

  Was it me? I shook the thought away. McGinty’s closed a few hours ago. They wouldn’t open again until after four. That meant I couldn’t see if the man who attacked Freddy was the same one who worked in the sports bar. What else could I do?

  Getting up, I circled my desk a few times, made coffee, and drank it while staring out the window. When I knew what I
was doing, work kept me busy, focused. I could push everything else out of my mind and do what had to be done. But ever since Jade told me she was coming back to town, my mind had been elsewhere. That had never happened before, and I didn’t like it. So I tried to bury myself deeper into Knox’s case, but I didn’t know how to proceed.

  I didn’t give a shit about Knox’s stolen property, but I cared a great deal about my contact getting attacked and even more about Jade being followed. The two didn’t appear connected. Intellectually, I knew they weren’t. It was bad timing. A coincidence. But my mind had latched onto a pattern that didn’t exist, and I couldn’t shake it.

  “Breathe.” Inhaling slowly through my nose, I held my breath for four seconds before letting out a lengthy exhale. I repeated this twenty times until my thoughts cleared. While I waited for Gloria to arrive at the office and the rest of my day to get underway, I dissected the Knox file and my notes, separating out what wasn’t relevant or related.

  Before I finished my project, the computer dinged. Facial recognition identified the man on the right, the one without the scar. His name was Alexei Balakin. He had several assault charges on his record. From what I could tell, he was hired muscle. He got paid to beat people up, which is what he’d done the previous night, but he didn’t work for one guy. He floated around. This wasn’t helpful.

  I ran a list of his known associates, but I didn’t find the man with the scar. From what I gathered, Alexei was a hitter who typically worked alone. He’d flitted from loan shark to loan shark, taking a cut of the money he recovered.

  Trey Knox gambled online. We saw the charges on his bank statement. I’d also seen a few withdrawals from ATMs near his preferred sports bar, but I couldn’t be sure that was to pay a bookie. The amounts were always a couple hundred, which could have covered a business dinner or just a night out with friends. For someone to hire a hitter like Alexei, the debt would have to be at least several grand.

  It was still early, especially for Freddy, but I sent him a text to see if he was awake. When he didn’t reply, I assumed he was sleeping off the ordeal and most of the morning, per his usual. What did he say to me last night? The thieves took the cocaine and cash as payment for the additional trouble, meaning what? Had Alexei already been hired to recover a debt? It had to be Knox’s.

  Since I’d been a money guy, I combed through Knox’s financial statements, searching for the discrepancy. But I didn’t see anything to indicate he had an outstanding gambling debt. He hadn’t paid off his credit cards or house, but he had money in the bank. He received a steady paycheck. Part of it went into his 401K. People who owed loan sharks money didn’t behave like that. They didn’t invest in a future. Their first priority was usually to keep their kneecaps.

  I called Knox again. “Mr. Knox, do you have a gambling addiction?”

  “What?”

  “Humor me.”

  “No.”

  “What about outstanding debts?”

  “My credit card companies might think so.”

  “Anyone else?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. “No, and I don’t appreciate your tone. If you’re worried about receiving payment for your services, you should know I’d be more than happy to drop off a check to cover whatever expenses you’ve already incurred.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “It sounds like you’re trying to nickel and dime me. Did you run my credit report? You’ll see my credit is fine.”

  It was passable, but I didn’t want to quibble or admit to having checked into the client. That would be bad for business, so I backed off. “I’m just trying to figure out why someone would steal your collection. Since you are such an avid fan who participates in fantasy leagues and online sportsbooks, I’d be remiss not to consider the possibility the theft was revenge.”

  “Well, it isn’t.” He sounded indignant. “Let me ask you a question. Is this how you conduct business with all of your clients? Traumatizing victims and blaming them is not the way to go. It’s bad enough when actual law enforcement does it and a travesty when lawyers in the courtroom or the media do the same thing. But I will not have a private investigator, someone I personally hired and paid, treat me like a criminal, like the theft was my fault. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I suggest you remember this lesson when you deal with your future clients. I’ve put up with a lot of your off-the-wall questions and accusations. I’m not doing it anymore. If this continues, I’ll take my business elsewhere and seek to sever our contract. Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” I said, forcing myself to remain professional.

  “Very well.”

  The only thing I learned from that phone call was how much I disliked Trey Knox.

  Twenty-one

  “At least you didn’t stay here all night,” Justin said when he showed up a little after ten.

  “I should have.”

  “Uh-oh.” He closed the door to my office. “Do I want to know?”

  “Jade wasn’t paranoid. She was right. Some asshole was stalking her.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. She’s not here. He is. Problem solved, right?”

  “Just to satisfy my own curiosity, did you have to make any late night calls to Mr. Almeada or, I don’t know, buy a shovel in the middle of the night?”

  “He’s fine, probably better than I am.”

  “What about the two jerks who beat up Freddy? Is one of them the same guy who was stalking Jade?”

  “No, but I thought he was. It turns out Freddy was attacked by hired muscle. I don’t know who hired them or why.” I pushed my chair back and put my feet up on the edge of my desk. “To be frank, I don’t know anything.” I rocked back as far as the seat would go without tipping over. “I don’t even know the name of the hired muscle’s accomplice.”

  “Have you spoken to Jade?”

  “Why would I?”

  “To tell her she isn’t crazy, that she didn’t imagine it.”

  “What good would that do? She doesn’t feel safe. Telling her would only make it worse.”

  “Suit yourself.” From his tone, I knew he disagreed with my thoughts on the matter. “Who was stalking her?”

  “Danny Foster. He drives a silver SUV with a bike rack. That’s how I found him. It was purely accidental. I was looking for the guys who attacked Freddy and robbed Knox’s house.” I scratched my head, finding that I despised Trey Knox.

  “That means the kid you scared the other morning had nothing to do with anything, right?”

  “I guess not.” At the time, I thought he was lying. Maybe I didn’t have a nose for this kind of work.

  “All right, so what’s your next play?”

  I puffed out my cheeks and blew out a breath. “I get back to what matters. Cross Security needs to expand, possibly hire some additional investigators to deal with these types of issues.” I rubbed my eyes. “What we need to do is find the ideal office space, get our new hires situated, and build our client list. As far as Knox goes, I can’t do anything until the thieves try to fence the stolen merchandise. And as far as Freddy goes, I’m waiting to get an ID on the second perp before I do anything.”

  “That sounds sensible,” Justin cocked an eyebrow at me, “which leads me to my next question.”

  “What?”

  “Who are you and what did you do with Lucien Cross?”

  “I’ve spent the entire night going over this, waiting for a lead on the intel, and even with it, I still can’t make a move.” I dropped my feet to the floor and climbed out of the chair. “I’m going home to take a nap. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Hold down the fort until then.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Slipping into my jacket, I didn’t bother checking facial rec again. I would have heard the ping. Instead, I left the office, went straight home, and dropped onto the bed without taking the time to even kick off my shoes.

  My phone woke
me. I opened my eyes and reached for the device. Freddy sent me a text message in response to the one I had sent him earlier. He’d spoken to every contact he could think of who specialized in rare collector’s items. He didn’t name names, so I did.

  Alexei Balakin, do you know him? He and one of his buddies attacked you last night, I wrote.

  After sending the text, I got myself cleaned up and rummaged through the fridge. A few containers of leftover Chinese stared back at me. I grabbed a fork and ate while standing at the counter. I stared at the table, picturing Jade, with her legs tucked beneath her, animatedly gesturing with the chopsticks while eating the beef and broccoli. I had it bad, but I had to let it go. I had to let her go. It was done. Over.

  I dropped the container into the trash and grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge and drank out of it. Danny Foster was lucky to be alive.

  My phone beeped. Not personally. By reputation.

  Texting back and forth was ridiculous. I hit the speed dial and waited for Freddy to answer. “What do you mean by reputation?” I asked.

  “Alexei’s connected.”

  “Connected to whom?”

  “C’mon, Luci, I’m not going to spell it out for you. He collects debts and makes sure everyone pays up. He’s been known to make examples out of people.”

  “Who do you owe?”

  “No one.” His voice went up an octave. “I trade in favors. I don’t leave outstanding debts for more than a few days, and that’s only when a client takes his sweet time paying up.”

  “I left payment with you last night,” I said.

  “Not you.” He sighed. “Thanks for paying off the doc. I appreciate that.”

  “Yeah, no problem.” I hoped he’d get back on track, but the silence dragged. “I don’t owe anyone either. But you said he and the other guy stole from you and said it was to make up for the added trouble. You also said this had to do with me. That I was supposed to have been there.”

  “About that,” Freddy chuckled uncomfortably, “maybe I got it wrong. I’m not sure exactly what went down. A lot of it is fuzzy.”