“Here’s how I see things,” Nikkie said, breaking the silence which had crept into its second minute. “We all need each other. Jessica needs you to help her with all legal matters. She needs Derek and me to investigate the case and to explore her alibi—once she gives an alibi, that is. You need us since you aren’t in any condition to do any legwork. You also need us for our skills. And we need you to keep us from broaching any legal lines and to feed us information we’ll need to work this case. We don’t have to like each other or even respect each other, but we do need to work together.”
No matter how hard she might have tried, there was nothing Nikkie said that Maryanne could object to. The fact she was sitting in her office, her pants wet with urine and her legs about as trustworthy as the San Andreas fault, drove home the reality of her need for assistance: On the Jessica Gracers case and, perhaps soon, on many things in her life.
“I keep a change of clothes in the trunk of my car,” Maryanne said.
“You couldn’t have told me that when I was outside at your car?” Nikkie smiled, hoping Maryanne’s defensive wall might crumble a bit. Instead of a crumbling wall, Nikkie saw tears welling up in Maryanne’s eyes.
“Need to ask you to keep what’s between us, just between us. You okay with that?”
“I’ve always been good at keeping secrets,” Nikkie said. “And if you need anything while Derek and I are here in Florida…”
“I don’t want Derek knowing, either. You good with keeping secrets from your partner?”
“Not that he’d care, but, sure.”
“Then, I think us working together might work out just…”
The shrill of the phone locked Maryanne’s words in her throat. Nikkie studied her face as she answered. The conversation was short, consisting of a few grunts of acknowledgement on Maryanne’s side and what Nikkie assumed to be a very precise and concise notification from the person on the other end of the phone line.
Maryanne hung up the phone, her face revealing nothing.
“Gonna need you to get my clothes from my trunk.”
“What’s happened?”
“Jessica is ready to give her alibi.”
Chapter 7
Maryanne and Nikkie arrived in the Pinellas County Jail a full twenty minutes before Derek. At first, Maryanne suggested to Jessica as the three women sat together in the cramped interview room, that her alibi be given to her and Nikkie first. Once they had an opportunity to hear her alibi and provide a bit of coaching to clarify any points in need of clarification, they would call in Detective Mathers, and whomever his partner-of-the-day might be, for the police to take the official account of the alibi.
“No,” Jessica answered. “I want to give my alibi directly to Derek. I don’t mind if you two sit in, but I insist that only Derek Cole asks me questions. Once he feels my alibi is as solid as it should already be, then, and only then will I talk to the detectives.”?
“In my experience,” Maryanne said, her voice controlled, soft, “those convicted often make grievous errors when first stating their alibi. Emotions run high; details that can’t be readily recalled are doused with a heavy layer of creative license. This leads to gaps, to errors the police will uncover.”
“You know what I did last night?” Jessica said, her face fixed with determination. “You know what I’ve been doing since you two and Derek left a few hours ago? Waiting. I’ve been waiting to see if he would show up. Waiting for a guard to walk up to my cell, unlock the door and tell me he called and cleared everything up. But he didn’t call and he didn’t show up and no guard unlocked my goddam cell and I wasn’t allowed to walk out of this god forsaken place.”
“Who is ‘he,’ Jessica?” Nikkie asked.
“He’s not going to show up and he’s not going to call. He can’t because I know he was involved in Sam’s murder. I was set up from the start.” Jessica paused to wipe an errant tear which had escaped the hold of her eyes. “When I was arrested, at first, I only thought about him. About how I needed to protect him. I knew as soon as he heard what happened to Sam and that I was being held, possibly charged, that he’d take some time to work things out. It wouldn’t be easy for him, but he’d figure it all out, somehow. He’d tell the cops that I was with him since Friday evening. He couldn't explain how my gun was the murder weapon, but he’d hire the best in the world to figure it all out.
“I didn’t sleep at all that night. I kept waiting for him to show up. But by the morning, I knew he wasn’t going to show up. So I just sat and thought. And I kept on thinking until I figured it all out. Not all, but enough. I still had a glimmer of hope that he’d show up the second day, but, of course, he didn't. I called him, you know. Before I called for any of you. His number was disconnected. No message, nothing telling me about his new number. So I called his home number. Same thing. Disconnected.
“I was fooled. No, I was played for a fool and I need you to fix this for me. When Derek gets here, I’ll tell you everything.”
Nikkie sat; ready to begin writing line after line of notes while Derek sat across from Jessica. He listened to her insistence that he, and only he, ask her questions.
“I need you to guide me. Make me tell it like a story. It’s how my mind works.”
“Sounds more like you’re asking me to help you write a fictitious story with you,” Derek said.
“Everything I say, every word that comes out of my mouth, will be the truth. I’m not good at just spilling out chronological events. I’ve never been good at that.”
“Okay,” Derek said through a deep sigh. “Where do you want to begin?”
“I think you need to understand where Sam worked first. Whom he worked for.”
Derek said, “Fine. Where did Sam work?”
“No. Not just questions like that. It has to be me telling a story. Not just answering questions. My God, this shouldn’t be so hard for you to understand.”
Derek’s head turned slowly away from Jessica, towards Maryanne then stopping when his eyes met Nikkie’s.
“How about this,” he said with his gaze still set on Nikkie. “Tell me about your husband, Sam. Tell me about his job, where he worked. Whom he worked for and with.”
“That’s better.” Jessica shot a small smile that was more of any apology than an expression. “Sam worked for himself, for the most part. He ran his own business. He did since before I even met him. But, around six years ago, he joined a group headed by FJ DeNuzzio. I didn’t understand what FJ’s company was all about, but once Sam was ‘made,’ things really went well for him.”
“Made?” Derek asked. “Sounds like this FJ DeNuzzio is some type of a mob boss.”
“No, not at all. It’s just an expression, but one that really makes sense once you understands everything. See, Sam ran an outsourcing business. He worked with companies around the country, and even some in Mexico and Central America, to help them fill temporary positions. He did well. When we married, Sam’s business was pulling in well over two million in profits. Since he only employed three people, well, you can imagine his income was substantial. At least we thought it was substantial until he joined FJ’s company.
“Sam joined FJ and the others and really started to make things happen financially for us. He was a success before, but the day he joined FJ, he was truly a success. He wasn’t just ‘making’ it any longer; he had made it. He was made. Understand?”
“Sure. Kind of weird, but, sure, I get it. Sam became a ‘made man’ once he joined forces with FJ.”
“And not just FJ,” Jessica continued. “There are seven others in FJ’s company, making eight ‘made’ partners. They all own their own companies and all are part of the FJ DeNuzzio Company. Like the FJ DeNuzzio Company is the parent company and the other seven—those owned by the seven ‘made’ partners—are the children. All work together to support the other businesses. All share in profits and losses. All take the same risks, too.
“Every year, all the profits from all the companies are
blended together, then shared nine ways.”
“Nine?” Nikkie asked.
Jessica shot an angry look at Nikkie, who immediately apologized for asking the question. Jessica then fixed her sights on Derek, and waited.
Derek’s eyebrows dropped in confusion.
“You need me to ask the question Nikkie just asked?”
“I know this may be different from what you’re used to, but, yes. I only want to answer questions from you.”
“Okay,” Derek said. “Nine ways?”
“Each ‘made’ partner gets one equal share of the profits and FJ takes two shares. Adds up to nine. Same way all company votes are counted. Each partner’s vote counts once except FJ’s, whose vote counts as two. With nine, there’s never a tie. And since he started the business, set the rules, chooses the direction the company takes and is the only one who interviews potential new partners, him taking twice as much and his votes counting twice as much as anyone else, makes sense.
“Since everything is shared equally…”
“Except for where FJ is concerned,” Derek interrupted.
“…Each member benefits from the success of every other member. That’s why they all help each other out, in whichever way they can. Sam spent as much time helping some of the others as he did running his outsourcing company. And he also received plenty of help. Especially from Brian Hilton.”
“I’ll ask about this Brian Hilton in a second. But first, what else is important for us to know about this FJ DeNuzzio and his company?”
“Each member of the team is expected to bring in a certain amount of profit each year. They have quarterly meetings that are meant to give updates about where each ‘made’ member of the FJ DeNuzzio team is with regards to their forecast. Once a year, around Christmas time, the eight go away for a long weekend. I’ve never been invited to any of them. No one but the partners are allowed, but Sam told me the meeting is all about year end results and then voting on whether the lowest two producers keep their positions or not. Since Sam was made a member, I’ve only seen three members excused from the company.”
Derek pulled his eyes off Jessica and onto the flashing blue light of Maryanne’s digital recorder. Normally, Derek was able to give his client undivided attention, but the way Maryanne seemed obsessed over her digital recorder was distracting. At least six times during Jessica’s strange sharing of what she promised to be her alibi, Maryanne had reached for the recorder, checked to make sure it was doing what she needed it to do, before placing it back down in front of Jessica, each placement a bit closer to Jessica.
It was only the second time she had used the digital device, choosing it over her tried and true practice of handwritten notes. But Iron Lou was ripping away her ability to write legibly. The flashing blue light on the recorder reminded Maryanne of the ravaging disease inside her body. Each pulse of the light, it seemed, marked her steady progression to her death.
“I don’t honestly know much more than what I’ve already told you. Sam told me once he signed some legal agreements that prohibited him from sharing too much about FJ and the company. What I do know for certain is that FJ is a very wealthy man and the partners who get through the first couple of years are also wealthy.”
“Fair enough. Strange, but fair enough.” Derek stretched back against his chair, his arms reaching above his head. “So, you mentioned a Brian Hilton, and, based on the way you said his name, I have a feeling Brian is an important piece of your alibi.”
“He and I were having an affair. We were lovers. I met Brian at a company party. There weren’t many parties, only when a new partner was named and introduced to the spouses and assistants of the other partners. I was attracted to Brian from the start. He was single, young, in amazing condition and had a kindness in his eyes.” Jessica sighed. “It was stupid. Crazy, actually. Sam was a wonderful man, a good husband and was well respected in the company. Me even thinking the way I was about Brian was cause enough for both him and Sam to be removed from the company. Very strict rules, FJ set. Very strict.
“Brian felt the same for me, too. Though he didn’t say anything at first, eventually, we ended up in each other’s arms. His first year with the company had ended and I guess he did really well. At the next announcement event, I remember FJ kept smiling at Brian and patting him on the back. Like he was gushing over him. I slept with him that first night we met.”
“If Sam was a partner with FJ before Sam, why didn’t you meet Brian when he was announced as a new partner? You said FJ threw parties to announce new partners, right?”
“Brian was made a partner during the year end meeting. The one only partners can attend. I didn’t meet him until he was with the FJ company for over a year.”
“Okay,” Derek said, forcing his attention away from Maryanne and her flashing blue light. “So, you met Brian Hilton at a new partner meeting and slept with him during the party. Go on.”
“It was at a country club. Not sure if FJ is a member or if he owns the place. What I do know is that on at least three occasions, an employee of the county club assured FJ the entire kitchen and dining areas were completely free of peanuts. I guess FJ has a severe allergy to them. The way the employees were falling over themselves to let FJ know about the whole place being peanut free, made me think he owned the place. Anyway, while the party was going on downstairs, Brian and I were having sex on the desk in one of the upstairs offices. We walked back into the main room, separately of course, after being gone for thirty minutes. No one seemed to notice that we were even gone. Sam just walked up to me, kissed me and said that he needed to meet with FJ alone for a few minutes and asked if I’d be okay alone for a little while. It was like he had no idea I was screwing one of his partners one floor above where he was standing.”
“This Brian, you said he’s single but did he ever have a wife?”
“No,” Jessica said sharply, almost like she was jealous of a wife Brian didn’t have. “He’s single. Never been married.”
“Go on.”
“Brian and I kept getting together when we could. We needed to be extremely cautious, as you can imagine. I have no idea how much money Sam, Brian and the other members were earning, but it must have been in the millions each year. If anyone found out about us,” Jessica paused, shook her head and fixed her sights on an imaginary and distant possibility. “Let me just say if we were found out, things would get very, very ugly.”
“Violent?” Derek asked. “You think something would have happened to you and Brian?”
“I don’t know about that,” Jessica answered. “But there was a member who was fired right before Sam was hired. Sam took his spot, actually. I never met the man and have no real reason to suspect anything happened, but I remember watching the evening news one night, shortly after Sam was ‘made.’ There was a short story about a businessman who was found floating in the Bay. Shot in the head, apparently. As soon as the reporter mentioned the man’s name, Craig Washburn I think his name was, Sam’s face went blank. Pale as if he’d seen a ghost. I asked what was wrong, if he knew this Craig Washburn, but he dismissed me. Said he’d never heard of the guy and that he wasn’t even listening to the reporter. But I didn’t forget the look of terror on his face for those few seconds.
“I can’t say FJ was behind the Washburn murder, but something told me from that moment on that there was more to the FJ DeNuzzio company than just eight businessman earning millions of dollars.”
Derek stood, stretched his back with a deep, backwards bend.
“Okay, I’ll get back to your relationship with Brian Hilton in a minute. But I’m still not clear on what this FJ DeNuzzio group is all about. What do they do?”
“They buy and they sell. That’s it. Nothing romantic. Nothing exotic. They buy things, then they sell them.”
“Like what ‘things?’ What do they buy and sell?”
“You name it. Real estate, businesses, fleets of cars, boats, ships, yachts, islands, stocks, bonds, and foreign currency
. Whatever is for sale, they buy.”
“They’re flippers? They make millions and millions of dollars flipping things?”
“Each member has an area of specialty, or so I believe. Brian buys and sells medical equipment. Sam buys…” Jessica paused. “Sam bought outsourcing companies, made them better, then sold them for a profit. He once bought a company that specialized in placing mobile home repair specialists in Arkansas. Bought it then sold it three months later for twice what he paid for it.”
“So these eight members, each has an area they specialize in?” Derek said.
“As far as I can tell.”
Derek asked, “What’s FJ DeNuzzio specialty?”
A look of confused anger screwed across Jessica’s face. For a moment, Derek confused the look for one of terror. The type of fear one displays when a terrible realization is made. If there was terror in her countenance, it was fleeting. Gone like sea vapor driven by the force of a hurricane. What was left to spill across her face was unmistakable anger. Hatred, perhaps.
“Apparently arranging murders.”
Chapter 8
“Brian surprised me, actually. I never expected him to take such a risk.” Jessica’s face had brightened at the very mention of Brian’s name. After the sour, spiteful look that marred her face when she suggested FJ DeNuzzio might have had something to do with her husband’s murder, Derek redirected her conversation to focus on her alibi, and not on her suspicions. “When he sent me that note, asking if I could get away for a weekend with him, I felt like a teenager in love.”
Deathly Reminders: a Derek Cole Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thrillers Book 6) Page 5