Kill Shot (Romantic Suspense)

by J. D. Faver

  She shrugged. “I like it. It’s creative and fun.”

  “You only take weddings?”

  “No. I shoot anything I can get paid for. I got several calls after I put an ad in the church bulletin at St. Basil’s. I photographed the entire first communion class and also a christening.”

  “And this makes you happy?” he asked. “I always thought you were just showing an interest to please your father.”

  It was a simple question, but it served as an example of why there was an ocean of difference between the woman she was and the woman he wanted her to be.

  “Yes, it makes me happy.” She turned away to sort the papers and bag the broken or damaged items after listing them for insurance purposes. Her brow puckered. “I wonder why the pony tail guy took the proofs.”

  “But you have the pictures on the flash drive, right?”

  “Right and I sent the other copy of the proofs to the bride by courier service yesterday morning.”

  “Do you usually make a second copy of the proofs?”

  “Always,” she said. “It’s easier to print two sets at the same time than to go back and reprint. When I collect the final fees I always put the second set of proofs in a small album and offer it to the bride’s mother.”

  “For an additional fee?”

  “For an additional fee. It’s just a way of boosting the sale.”

  Oz gave her an appraising look. “You’ve turned out to be a pretty sharp business woman, Micki. Who’d of thought?”

  She bit back the sharp retort that leapt to mind. “Me, Oz. I’ve known who I am all along.”

  #

  Oz bought their lunch at a diner and then drove back to his apartment.

  In the car, Micki clutched her precious pen containing all the pictures she’d taken over the past year. She stroked her fingers over the cap, thankful for her obsession with protecting her work. As soon as Oz opened the door to his apartment she deposited her treasure on his kitchen counter in plain sight where she could keep an eye on it.

  Now, Oz was on his knees.

  Micki kind of liked that, but it scared her too. The last time she had seen him on his knees he’d been proposing marriage. This time he wielded a screwdriver.

  “That should do it.” He twisted the new deadbolt lock in and out to demonstrate its mechanism. He glanced up at her for approval.

  “I didn’t realize that you were useful as well as decorative.” She favored him with a wry grin.

  Oz snorted and lunged for her. “I’ll show you useful.” He wrapped his arm around her and lifted her shirt.

  “No, no, no,” she cried emphatically. “This is what got us into trouble in the first place.”

  “You’re no fun.” Oz’ dark eyes were full of mischief. “Come on. Give me a kiss and I’ll give you a present.”

  Micki laughed and pushed him away, but couldn’t escape his long reach. “You’re trying to bribe me?”

  “Whatever works.” He pulled her closer.

  “Okay,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “The things I’m willing to do for a present.” She took his face in both hands and lowered her lips to his.

  Oz tenderly caressed her mouth as his hands roamed over her backside.

  Micki pulled away and held out her palm. “Pay up, big man.”

  Oz grinned as he climbed to his feet and then dropped a shiny brass key into her palm.

  “I feel honored,” she said. “I’m only one of...how many women have been the recipient of your apartment key?”

  “Don’t go there,” he growled, sending a dark warning glare.

  “No, really,” she said. “I’d like to know.”

  His mouth tightened. “Fawn badgered me for a key. She was always showing up unexpectedly and she would stand outside to wait for me. I don’t know why I gave it to her. I just...” Oz looked back at her. “I was lonely, Micki. After you dumped me I was alone and...”

  A giant fist gripped her stomach, “I was wrong. I don’t want to know.” Micki turned away from the sad expression on his face. The same expression he’d worn when she’d gone running to him after the incident in the park. “I’m sorry I asked. Forget it.”

  “You did ask,” he said.

  She pretended to examine the pattern on the drapes. “I just wondered how you got involved with a girl like that. She’s very pretty. I’m sure any guy would be attracted to her, but...” Her throat tightened and she felt like she was sinking in quicksand. “She doesn’t seem like your type.”

  Oz came up behind her and wrapped his fingers around her shoulders, pulling her back to rest against him. He buried his face in her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Micki, I told her I was still in love with you, but she didn’t care. And the guys at the station thought I was crazy to resist.”

  Micki turned to gaze up at him. “Shhh. I understand. I expected you to find someone else. I just wasn’t prepared for the reality...and I didn’t imagine you with someone so flashy, like...like...” Her voice trailed off. “I have no right to complain.”

  Oz flashed a rueful grin. “Yeah, but I’m done talking about it. It’s over. Fawn is out of my life.” He kissed her on the nose. “I have to get back to work. Be good and stay here.”

  He departed as she pondered his relationship with a woman who took off her clothes for a living.

  Left to her own devices, Micki searched the apartment to determine if the nubile Fawn had left any of her belongings behind to serve as an excuse for a return visit.

  She didn’t find any Fawn leftovers but when she opened the bottom drawer of Oz’ bureau she found a wealth of Micki memorabilia. The drawer was crammed with photos, ticket stubs and programs from their years of togetherness. Some of the contents were things Micki had bundled and dumped on his doorstep when she’d broken up with him.

  He’d saved everything.

  She sat cross-legged on the floor recalling their history together. Tears stung her eyes when she saw their young, innocent faces peering out from photos, so obviously in love.

  She tried to remember a time when she hadn’t been Oz’ girl, but couldn’t. Even when they were children, she’d known he liked her. He protected her from the bullies at school, yet teased her unmercifully. It was understood. Micki was Oz’ girl.

  It had been so easy to float along with Oz, like an extra appendage he hadn’t really needed, but liked having around. Micki had so much to thank him for, but she’d repaid him by breaking his heart, along with her own in the process. She’d been drowning in Oz, smothering, but she’d clawed her way out. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to explain it to her own satisfaction, let alone his.

  Climbing up off the carpet, she made the bed, figuring they’d both be sleeping there tonight. That brought a whole other set of problems, in that she couldn’t imagine herself maintaining a semi-platonic relationship with Oz for much longer.

  She hated the way her entire body ached for him. He was addictive. If she was a little more selfish, she’d enjoy the physical pleasures Oz could deliver and then return to her independent career girl life that he hated when the threat was over.

  But she wasn’t a taker. She wouldn’t let him get his hopes up unless she could guarantee giving him what he really wanted. He doesn’t deserve to be let down again.

  And I can’t give up being me.

  Micki checked out the refrigerator and pantry and made a grocery list.

  She wasn’t sure how long her imposed incarceration in Oz’ place would last, but she would shop for a few days anyway because she didn’t want him to keep ordering in.

  When Oz came through the door that evening, she was waiting for him. She relayed their need for groceries while he changed out of his uniform. They were in his car when Micki’s cell phone rang.

  “Micki? It’s Zondra. I’ve been robbed!”

  A tingling sensation worked its way down Micki’s spine. “What happened?’ She could hear Zondra sobbing hysterically through the phone.

  “Someone
ran my car off the road and stole my pictures.”

  “Where are you?” Micki asked.

  “I’m at the emergency room. They insisted on bringing me here after the wreck.”

  “We’ll be right there.” Micki snapped the phone closed and asked Oz to drive to the hospital. “Someone took her proofs.”

  At the ER, Oz parked in the visitor parking lot. When Micki asked for Zondra at the information desk, he flashed his badge and they were allowed back inside the busy treatment area.

  “Micki!” Zondra gasped, reaching for her with the aplomb of an accomplished drama queen.

  “Zondra, are you alright?”

  “No!” she shrieked. “Just look at my face!” A tiny cut beside her eye had been butterflied with a steri-strip and a doctor was dressing the scrape on her forehead with a gauze pad.

  “It doesn’t look too bad.” Micki gave her an encouraging smile.

  Zondra squinted at Micki. “Omigod! What happened to you? Your face looks worse than mine.” Zondra’s large expressive eyes reflected total horror as she examined Micki’s bruises.

  “I...had an accident,” she said.

  Zondra looked up at Oz for the first time. Her gaze flicked over his tall muscular form, resting momentarily on the badge and weapon affixed to his utility belt. She extended her lovely manicured hand. “Zondra Sebastian.”

  “This is Oz...Paul Osmond, my...my friend.”

  “And an officer of the law,” Zondra’s voice almost purred with delight. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Officer Oz.” Zondra twinkled her dimples at him.

  Oz fixed her with an intense gaze. “Ma’am. Can you tell me about the accident you were involved in?”

  “Accident, my ass! This man in a big black Hummer ran my car into a tree.”

  Oz glowered at her. “Did you get a look at him?”

  Zondra nodded. “He was a white guy with dark blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail. I saw him real good.”

  Oz turned his glare on Micki. She got his meaning, recalling the man of the same description who had assaulted her in her apartment.

  “What happened after you hit the tree?”

  Zondra cleared her throat. “You mean, after I was run off the road and smack dab into a tree?” At his nod, she continued. “While I was sitting there, totally traumatized, he jerked the car door open and grabbed my purse.”

  “Your purse?” Oz glanced beyond her to the large, pearlized leather bag sitting beside her on the gurney.

  “Yes, this purse. The guy reached across me and grabbed it. Then he tossed it out the window of the Hummer when he sped away. My On-Star called the ambulance and cops. One of the ambulance guys got it for me.” She pulled the bag closer.

  “Be sure to cancel your credit cards,” Micki said.

  “No, all he took was the pictures. Can you believe that? I was on my way to my mother’s house to pick one for the newspaper announcement.” Zondra clapped her hands to both cheeks. “Oy! My mother’s gonna freak. I called my fiancé and I called you guys...but I’m scared to call my mom.”

  Oz filched a pair of latex gloves from a dispenser, pulled them on and placed her purse in a plastic trash bag.

  Zondra pointed a long, skinny acrylic nail at him. “What are you doing? That bag cost me five hundred bucks on sale.”

  Oz grinned, giving her the full effect of the melt-you-where-you-stand eye twinkle. “Evidence.” He called for a cruiser to pick up the bag and take it to the good old police department crime lab.

  Micki refrained from telling Zondra that her bag might not be in the same pristine condition when she got it back.

  At that moment, Zondra’s fiancé, Ephraim, burst through the doors. Zondra’s face crumpled and tears rolled down her cheeks as he gathered her in his arms. She got to tell her story all over again.

  Micki prepared to leave with Oz, but Zondra grabbed her hand. “I need another set of the pictures, Micki. I’ll pay extra.”

  “I’ll make you a set,” she said. “No charge. And I’ll see you at the church Friday afternoon for the rehearsal.”

  Oz was quiet when they walked to his car. “Micki, this thing is getting more dangerous by the minute. You can’t afford to take any more chances.” He skewered her with a stern gaze. “You should let someone else take the wedding photos.”

  She felt her jaw tighten. “Not on your life!”

  “No, Mick,” he said quietly. “It’s on your life.”

  A chill whispered along her spine as his meaning sank in.

  #

  Micki thought the familiarity of doing something ordinary together was responsible for lightening Oz’ mood. Something as normal as pushing a shopping cart through a grocery store. They strolled aisle by aisle as though they’d been shopping together forever. He pushed the cart, but pulled her close with one arm around her shoulders.

  His expression poked at her guilty conscience. He was happy and he thought they were really together, or was he trying to fool himself? Micki couldn’t tell, but she was helpless to stop the train roaring down the tracks.

  “Artichoke hearts?” he asked. “What are you going to do with artichoke hearts?”

  “You’ll see.” She put the can in the basket, aware that they were on dangerous ground. On the surface, they were pushing a cart through the market and bantering about meaningless things, but, in truth, they were dancing near the edge of a bottomless abyss.

  Micki didn’t think she could climb out again.

  At the check out, Oz presented his credit card. She had hoped to contribute but when she reached for her purse, he flicked a glance at her that put an end to her intentions. She knew better than to argue. Things were easy between them, for the moment at least.

  Back at his apartment, they put away the food. As they worked alongside each other, she was aware that this felt way too comfortable. Micki prepared a dish her mom called spinach-artichoke linguini while Oz puttered around, picking up the apartment and setting the coffee table for their repast.

  She tossed a salad, glancing up to catch him gazing at her with an expression that caused a little flutter in her chest. Cool. Must remain cool. He struck a match, illuminating his features as he lit a candle. She felt a warm flush creep up from her chest.

  The savory aroma permeated the air. Oz was properly appreciative, raising the lid to sniff the concoction. He carried their plates to the coffee table.

  She sat on the carpet in front of its low surface, leaning back against the sofa. She noticed that he’d lit another candle. Way too romantic.

  Oz opened a bottle of white wine and poured it into a stemmed glass for her. “Try this.” He touched the glass to her lips encouragingly.

  She sipped the crisp wine and smiled her approval. “This is nice. I didn’t know you were into wines.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t know a lot about wine. I got a recommendation from a clerk at the liquor store.”

  They ate in companionable silence with occasional snippets of meaningless conversation. It was as though each was aware of the fragility of their relationship and neither wanted to complicate it. Maybe they were both treading water.

  She heaved a deep sigh. “What’s the connection between everything that’s happened the past two days? The trigger seems to have been my photo shoot in the park.”

  “Obviously someone really wanted the pictures.” Oz sipped wine thoughtfully. “And he thinks he succeeded. He’s got the memory card and both sets of proofs.”

  “Why would anyone want Zondra’s formal pictures? They’re only valuable to the bride and groom...and me, of course.”

  Oz looked somber. “Your camera must have captured something you didn’t notice at the time. We have to let the lab examine your flash drive to look for what might have been going on in the background. I’m thinking a crime was taking place and you recorded it.”

  “That sounds a little far-fetched. Wouldn’t someone have reported a crime?” Micki turned to face Oz.

  He shrugged. “Not necess
arily. The victim may not be in any shape to report.”

  “Oh.” A chill swept over Micki as his meaning sank in.

  “The lab can check the flash drive out first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said quietly.

  Oz gave her a quizzical look.

  She felt her neck stiffen. “This is my livelihood we’re talking about. I’m not turning this flash drive over to your powder scattering goons.”

  “Babe, you have to.”

  “No, I don’t. Your lab may have wrecked my cameras. I’m really pissed about that. It’s costing me a lot to have them professionally cleaned. Even then, I’ll have to shoot some pictures to see if Gus got all the dust out of the camera bodies.”

  “Micki, I understand how you feel, but we have to have immediate access to whatever’s on that flash drive.”

  She scrambled to her feet, feeling at a disadvantage sitting so close to Oz. She paced a few steps and whirled around. “Oz, you and I are the only ones who know that the thief didn’t get all the copies of the shoot. I’m asking you to let me conduct my business in my own way. I have to pay my rent and worry about getting a new ride. The photo files are in my computer and that’s in your so-called lab if some enthusiastic geeks haven’t filled it full of fingerprint dust.” She was aware that her voice had become a little shrill by the end of her tirade.

  “Micki, I can’t turn my back on evidence. You can’t expect me to ignore the fact that you were shot at, robbed and assaulted. Don’t you want me to catch the guy who’s responsible?”