ON Fire (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 5) (Redemption Thriller Series 17)

by John W. Mefford

  I looked at Winston. “You asked me to uncover every opportunity possible for reasonable doubt and then you’d figure out which ones to use. That’s what I did. Given what I’ve learned, I think you have at least one strong argument for reasonable doubt.”

  Winston steepled his fingers and nodded. I expected a smile, maybe a “that-a-boy.” Instead, they both stared at me like I’d robbed a bank and they worked for the sheriff’s office. Of course, this analogy didn’t work on many levels. For one, they would never work for the sheriff’s office.

  “I told you Elaine was off limits,” Franklin said bluntly.

  “Do you know she gives you an alibi?”

  Franklin sipped more of his coffee, but he said nothing.

  “Ozzie. I hope you can understand our trepidation on this matter,” Winston said.

  “Actually, I don’t. Can you explain it to me?”

  I got out of my chair and poured myself some coffee, added in two creams and three sugars, and then took my seat again. Winston waited until I was settled before continuing.

  “It really comes down to trust. We asked you to not speak with his wife, and you did so anyway. In a normal workplace environment, that would be called insubordination,” he said, looking down at me over his nose.

  I sipped the coffee, but I was already quite warm. “If you know anything about me, you should know that I’m not a ‘yes man.’ Meaning, if you say, ‘Jump,’ I don’t ask how high. In fact, I won’t jump at all, simply because you’d told me to.”

  Winston had a sickly look on his face. I’d made my point. I took another sip of coffee, savoring the flavor and the moment.

  It seemed like no one was going to “jump” in, so I continued. “That said, let’s get back to what I learned. I’m assuming you knew about this, Winston.” He was silent, so I looked at Franklin. “You told him, right? You told him that you were in bed having sex with the woman who you’ve been cheating on for years, who you’ve been trying to divorce for the last six months. Oh, and we can’t forget that, earlier that same night, you’d already slept with the victim, Pamela Connor. You’re quite a guy, Franklin. But I think Elaine already knows that, right?”

  The tendons in his neck bulged like he was morphing into an alien. It freaked me out, so I turned to the man with the smallest forehead on planet Earth. “Once the DA talks to Elaine, it might be game over.” I paused. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  They stared at me in silence. I wasn’t going to allow myself to be on the receiving end of their intimidation game. “Okay, so why wouldn’t you want me to speak to Elaine?” I spoke as if I were a professor standing in front of my students, waiting to see if someone had the balls to speak up.

  Winston and Franklin, apparently, had no balls.

  “Could it be that she is lying just to cover for you, Franklin?”

  “She wasn’t lying.”

  I nodded. “I’ll believe you…for now.”

  He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.

  “So, it must be about the divorce, which, in your world of what matters, boils down to a money thing. Am I right?”

  Franklin’s eyes never left mine, but a funny thing happened. He seemed to relax. I could tell by watching the crevices in his forehead slowly recede.

  “I’m confused about this money discussion. Elaine says you’re essentially broke. Wasted all the money on frivolous shit.”

  I waited for a response. Franklin glanced at Winston, and then his glare went back to me. “My financial situation is really none of your business. You’ve been hired to find opp—”

  “I know, opportunities for reasonable doubt. As you’re aware, I used to practice law. So, asking questions is kind of built into my DNA…without being put in a box. Get what I’m saying?”

  “More or less,” he said.

  That was quite an endorsement. At least he’d responded. I pulled out my phone and carefully set it on the table, as if I’d just moved about twenty grand in chips to the center of the poker table in Vegas.

  “Ozzie, it really comes down to trust,” Winston said, popping his fingertips together. “Can we trust that you’ll do what we ask moving forward?”

  I took in a breath, trying to keep my irritation suppressed. “Similar to the trust you showed in having this other PI, Marco, follow me around?”

  He cleared his throat. “I meant no harm. It’s really more about hedging our bets, ensuring our investment is working for us, not against us.”

  I wanted to ask why the hell they hired me to begin with. Why not go with Marco as a solo act? But then I thought about the money they were paying me and how it would allow me to get my feet back on solid ground financially, to start a college fund for Mackenzie and anything else she might need.

  “I’m doing my job, but I need two things. One, I send you my hours on a daily basis, and you pay out by the next morning.”

  I paused.

  Winston shrugged. “No worries.”

  “Two, if I see Marco sniffing around, we’re going to have an issue.”

  “An issue.” Winston chuckled. “Do you know where you’re sitting? Your kind of threats are futile.”

  I was about ready to leap up and choke him with my bare hands, but instead I bit into the inside of my cheek and maintained my self-control. Calmly, I said, “If you want me to work for you, then trust goes both ways. I don’t need…I refuse to work with a babysitter.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll give Marco a new assignment.”

  “Very well. There’s something important I need to show you.” I could feel my pulse quickening as I thumbed through my phone. Part of me wondered if I could maintain my composure. My cheek was only so thick. “I received a series of text messages from what appears to be a journal of some kind, perhaps owned by you, Franklin.” I held up my phone and showed them the first image.

  They were intrigued and stared at the image intently, but I didn’t see shock.

  Hmmm. “There are ten such images.”

  No response. Just a silent stare. They were waiting for more. And I had more to show.

  “Here’s the one that really got my attention.” I held up my phone. “In case you’re having a hard time seeing the small print, let me blow up one section.”

  It showed: Calvin Drake + FDA payoff = massive stock deal

  Franklin drank from his coffee mug, his gaze never leaving the phone. Winston’s hands were clasped, resting on the table. He too didn’t look away. There was an inescapable silence, though. I let it hang in the air.

  Suddenly, the office door opened. It was Garrett.

  “Mr. Palmer, your next appointment is—”

  “Leave us alone, Garrett.” He swept his hand to the side, dismissing the underling. Garrett slithered away.

  “Is that everything?” Winston asked me.

  “Oh, there’s this part here, just to confirm these pictures came from Franklin’s notes.” I zoomed in on the part that read: FTM = $$$$$

  “I’m assuming FTM stands for Franklin T. Marshall. Might be a stretch, but I’m throwing it out there.”

  I set my phone on the table and crossed my arms. And I waited. A full two minutes passed without a word being spoken. I drank my coffee, crossed one leg over the other. My heart was thumping like I’d been running up a steep hill, but I was Mr. Nonchalance on the outside.

  Winston slowly twisted his watch around his wrist. The glare from the sun beamed in through the window and hit the watch like it was some type of sundial. I think it had something to do with the number of jewels and size of said watch. To avoid blindness, I got up, walked to the drink tray, and looked through the pastry options. Nothing appealing. I took the opportunity to pull the cord on the vertical blinds to reduce the direct sunlight, and then I turned around. “I can hang out here all day, guys. I know Garrett is cool with ordering lunch. I could go for a fresh turkey sandwich with a pickle on the side and maybe some fresh fruit. How about you, Franklin?”

  The two men traded a glance
. Winston stood up and walked to his desk. He checked something on his computer; then he came around again, his arms folded across his barrel chest. “We were aware that Franklin’s journal had been…misplaced for a period of time. So this does not surprise us.”

  He and Franklin were calm. Too calm, which only sent my pulse into the ozone layer, but I did my best to keep my cool. I was impressing myself, if no one else. “The fact that someone sent this to me is very telling, is it not?”

  Winston jabbed a finger in my direction. “That we can agree on. I’d like to see if we can figure out who sent Franklin’s personal notes to you. Is that possible? Do you have the resources to do that?”

  More technology questions. Not my field of expertise. But he’d sidestepped what I considered to be the ultimate finding. It was time to be more direct. I walked to my chair and anchored my hands on the soft leather back. I eyeballed Winston briefly but Franklin, in particular. He wasn’t looking at me. There was apparently something interesting on his shirtsleeve.

  “You were Calvin Drake’s middle man to the FDA.” I stared holes through Franklin and his wrinkly forehead. He still wouldn’t look at me. So be it.

  I coughed lightly into my fist and continued. “You knew his drug wasn’t fit to be sold, but you set up the money exchange with someone or multiple people within the FDA just to get the drug passed. Apparently, the FBI has never learned of your involvement, which is why you’re not behind prison bars…yet.”

  He released a shaky breath while rolling his eyes. But he still wouldn’t look at me.

  “You knew what Drake had done. You knew he’d murdered to get his way. As for the Pamela Connor murder…who knows if you did it? Some signs say yes; others say no. But you are an accessory to murder, just so you and Drake and maybe someone within the FDA could cash in on this new wonder drug.”

  I waited a second for response, but that’s all I gave him. I smacked the leather. “Tell me I’m wrong, Franklin!”

  “Okay,” he said, holding up both hands. “You’re basically right. But I never endorsed him killing anyone. I didn’t know he was a sick sonofabitch.”

  A breath. A very deep breath to calm my raw nerves. “How can you live with yourself?”

  “Actually, quite easily. There are far worse things going on in and around our government. I’m just taking my share. Playing the game, like anyone else would in my position.”

  A game. That’s all he thought this was. And the winner takes all, or all he can grab.

  I could feel heat emanating from my neck and head like a strobe light. At the least, this guy had enabled Drake, the man who’d killed, the man who’d maimed my marriage.

  He leaned forward. “Do you know what it’s like to be in my shoes?”

  I gave him no response. Was he going to give me some type of justification? I considered walking out of the office, but I wanted to hear his pathetic attempt.

  He raised his arms, began moving them like he was preaching from a pulpit. “This feeling of controlling the entire chess board, of outmaneuvering your opponent. Hell, it’s almost like a three-D version of chess. Your ally today might be your enemy tomorrow, or vice versa. You have to be able to see every move far in advance, to make people think one way, and then hit them with the right cross when it has the biggest impact. You bring people together who should be. You rip apart relationships when needed. I’ve done all those things and so much more. And you know what? I can’t get enough of it. It’s my crack. And when I do my job and I work every person and company and government entity that’s in play, I am on fucking fire!”

  Franklin lifted to his feet, kicking back his seat. “I don’t apologize for being the best at what I do. This isn’t a humble brag. I am the best. Bar none.”

  “If you’re so fucking good, then how did you let your notebook get…misplaced?”

  He went quiet, and my question hung in the air.

  Winston ambled toward me. “That’s where you come in, Ozzie. We need to find out who’s setting him up for the murder.”

  I shook my head. I felt dirty and even ashamed for considering money over the reality of what Franklin had done.

  “Ozzie, I know this walks the thin line of what is right and wrong,” Winston said as I dug my fingers into the back of the chair, my eyes stuck to the table. “But we can’t undo the past. We have an obligation to see this through, to find out who is trying to set up Franklin. While we might be able to use Elaine to prove reasonable doubt, we don’t know if that will stop these people. They seem to have it out for Franklin. Somehow this video appeared, as if he were a ghost. Maybe someone has an old vendetta against him. Who knows? But it’s our job—and we’re paying you quite handsomely—to get to the bottom of it. Is that clear?”

  My fingers were on the verge of puncturing right through the leather. I finally looked up. “I’m not working with either one of you. And I’m going to take this evidence, go to the FBI, and share with them every text I received and everything I’ve heard in this room. If they’re in a good mood, they might help you out with the murder charge. I don’t know. I don’t care. But they will finally nail your ass. Get ready to spend a lot of time in prison, Franklin.”

  I turned and walked to the door.

  “You can’t do that, Ozzie,” Winston said.

  “Watch me.” I grabbed the handle and pulled open the door.

  “Legally, anything you share with the FBI will not be admissible. Not after I share with them your signed agreement to work on this case.”

  I flipped around on my heels, unsure if my hearing had failed me again. I took three steps in Winston’s direction. We were now separated by no more than a foot. “What agreement?”

  “Do you not recall signing your contract? That document for which you provided a digital signature. I believe you completed it on your phone and sent it back in about two minutes. Record timing.” He smiled until his eyes almost disappeared in the shadow of his hair.

  “Do what? I signed a standard contract for me to provide PI services, like the text said.”

  He shook his finger. “You didn’t read the fine print. You’re an attorney on this case. As such, Franklin is protected by the attorney-client privilege.”

  Franklin laughed out loud until Winston gave him the eye.

  My mind was swimming, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. For the next few seconds, my anger at them turned inward. They’d fucking tricked me into signing a document I hadn’t read. But I knew it was my fault.

  I picked up the ceramic mug of coffee, felt the weight of it in my hand. Without any internal debate, I turned and hurled that mug across the office. It smacked into a shelf full of awards, shattering everything in its wake. Both of the men jumped.

  Almost on cue, Garrett ran into the room. He saw the mess on the floor. “Do I need to call security?”

  “No, no. I don’t think we need to do that, do we, Ozzie?” Winston’s demeanor was relaxed now.

  I didn’t say a thing. Winston swatted a hand toward Garrett, who disappeared. He then walked over to his desk and opened a box. “Care for a cigar?”

  19

  I found myself in the chair again, my body feeling like I’d been turned to stone. The boys had smoked their cigars while discussing the stock market and other nonsensical items. I’d been trying to figure my way out of this attorney-client noose. The FBI needed this information. There was no way I’d let Franklin get away with this corruption, partnering with Drake.

  Attorney-client privilege was one of the oldest and most steadfast aspects of law. The Supreme Court had ruled on it. There was an old saying in law school to those who veered to the ideological world: “There is no law that can’t be overturned.” That was certainly true, but it all depended on two things I didn’t have right now: time and money. And lots of both.

  I wracked my brain but could think of nothing that would allow me to share with the FBI what I knew about Franklin’s criminal acts.

  “Ozzie, I hope you’ve had
a chance to calm down. We want you to be on our team.”

  “Why did you even bring me into this mess?”

  “Honestly, because we knew of your close association to Franklin’s brother. We knew that Noah, eventually, would insist on you being involved. And so, it became apparent that you might learn of Franklin’s history with Calvin Drake. That’s why we were hesitant to give you client lists. But now, this has been thrown in our faces. We must act quickly to determine who’s behind these text messages and to stop this reprehensible act as soon as possible.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. My mind was still swirling—this had to be a nightmare. I opened my eyes and saw Winston the Gorilla staring at me. It was a nightmare all right, but I was living it, not dreaming it.

  The only act I wanted to stop was Franklin. Well, at this point, I wouldn’t mind taking down Winston with him.

  And lawyers wonder why people joke about their integrity. I introduce Gorilla Man as Exhibit A.

  With my elbows anchored on the table, I kneaded my temples. Not surprisingly, a throbbing headache had sprouted. The brain can take only so much pressure.

  “Ozzie, are you going to be a mute, or are you going to join us in the real world?” Winston chuckled.

  He and Franklin were acting chummy, as if they were getting their jollies in watching my misery. Were they really that immature, that short-sighted? In the big picture, me being unable to share evidence with federal authorities about Franklin’s corruption didn’t make Franklin’s life perfect again. Far from it. There was still some entity out there trying to bring him down. And did Winston and Franklin really expect to get the best out of me if I wasn’t motivated to help them?

  “I live in the real world every day. This, in here, it’s the unreal world,” I said, poking my finger into the table. I figured that was better than poking my knuckles into Winston’s face.

  “You can stay on your moral high horse, but we’ve got work to get done.”

  “For some reason, I’m feeling a little under the weather.” I feigned a cough. “Think I have a fever. Yep, I might need to take a few days off. Maybe a week or more.”