High Risk G.K. Parks (interesting books to read for teens .TXT) 📖

My first stop was to see Mac. The department had alerts set up to find my badge and Officer Cruz’s. So far, no one had tried to impersonate either one of us, and if they had, the civilians hadn’t reported it, not that they would know to do that.

“Winston has a strike team on standby, I thought we were just waiting to scoop up the guy,” Mac said.

“We are, but something doesn’t feel right.”

“Armored transport and armored truck are synonymous.”

“Yeah, but he left the LockBox uniforms behind at the motel.”

“How did he even know officers were coming to get him?” Mac asked.

“I’m guessing Diego sent him a message when he spotted a patrol car in the rearview mirror.”

“Possibly. We didn’t get a ping on his registered phone, but he might have had a burner he tossed before he got pulled over.”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

“So if Tarelli had time to grab the police uniforms, he should have had time to grab the LockBox uniforms too.” She drummed her fingers on the desk while she thought. “I don’t know. It could be anything.”

“That’s why I’m on my way to the lab. Cross your fingers that they have something useful to tell me.”

On my way, I passed a few unis and fellow detectives. I just reached for the door handle to the lab when a gravelly voice sounded from the other end of the hallway. “Sure, no problem.”

Ice ran through my veins. I knew that voice. It had haunted my dreams these last few days. I peered down the hallway, but I couldn’t pinpoint the source. Too many other officers were in the way. Some were standing around talking. Others were headed somewhere. He has a bad knee, I reminded myself. But I didn’t see anyone with a limp.

Grabbing my phone, I dialed my partner. “I think he’s here.”

“Who?” Brad asked.

“Tarelli. I swear I just heard his voice.”

“Where are you?”

I told him while I slipped my hand into my bag and headed toward where I thought the voice had originated.

“All right, Liv. I’ll get the building locked down, and we’ll do a sweep. I’ll have the emergency notification system text every cop in the building to be on alert for Tarelli. Just don’t do anything stupid. I mean it.”

But I couldn’t let this bastard get away. I moved down the corridor, passing doors as I went. Why would he come to the police station? What could we possibly have here that would be worth stealing? Or did he just come to kill as many cops as he could? If that were the case, he would have opened fire already. So he must have had a goal in mind. I checked the evidence room, but everything was locked up tight.

“Did someone just come in here or leave?” I asked.

“No,” the officer behind the counter said.

“Thanks.” I stepped away from the counter and went back out the door. Evidence could be valuable, but that wasn’t Tarelli’s target. So what was? My phone let out two quick beeps, signifying the alert. My partner was on top of this, but now Tarelli had to scramble. And I knew he was armed.

At the end of the hallway was a stairwell that led downstairs to the parking garage. Since it was the only place I hadn’t looked, I took a breath and headed down to the main parking level. Parked near the elevator was a police transport. The armored exterior shined beneath the fluorescent lights.

It was so obvious, we missed it. The transport came like clockwork to take the evidence from our lockup and move it to the evidence warehouse for safe keeping. Anything could be inside, from drugs to guns to stacks of money and jewels. Whatever we found at a crime scene was confiscated and held until it was cleared and released or destroyed. This must be the payday he was waiting for.

I crept around the truck, finding it empty. The rear door was open, and I peeked in, but no one was inside. The officers must be on their way to collect the evidence. From there, they’d bring it down to the garage and load the truck. Tarelli must be lying in wait for them. If he was smart, he wouldn’t make his move until they loaded the truck. Then he’d probably take them out and drive away. The officer at the gate would see the police uniform and think nothing of raising the gate and letting him out. Tarelli would walk away with a major score and leave a few dead cops in his wake. It was everything he wanted and more, but I wasn’t going to let him get it.

I texted Brad an update on the situation and moved to the freight elevator. They’d have to use the elevator to move the pallets down from evidence, so Tarelli might be inside or he could still be upstairs, assisting the police in wheeling down his prize.

The doors opened, but the elevator was empty. Letting out a sigh, I turned around just in time to see a police baton swinging toward my face. I threw myself to the ground and rolled out of the way of a second swing. I removed my gun from my bag as I fought to gain my footing and get up. The adrenaline surge kept the dizziness away.

Surprise etched the asshole’s face. “I thought you were dead.”

“Guess you were wrong.” I aimed at him. He wore a standard patrol uniform, complete with hat and sunglasses. The brim concealed most of his features. He was clean-cut and fresh-faced. But his voice gave him away. “It’s over, Tarelli. Drop the weapon and put your hands on your head.”

He lowered the baton slowly to the ground, but he looked from side to side.