by J. D. Faver
“Amen,” Oz said. “Thanks for this. I’ll check it out tomorrow. In the meantime, let’s go home.”
“This is my home, Oz,” she said.
“For the next few days, mi casa is su casa.”
#
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Oz woke up he couldn’t help but grin. Micki was asleep sprawled all over him, her head on his shoulder. She was using him as her own personal body pillow just the way she had before...before she broke up with him. His grin faded. She has to commit to me. To commit to our relationship. . . or a new relationship. He didn’t know what was wrong with their old relationship but she had run away from it. To find herself. To have a career. Whatever.
He gazed at her translucent skin and her lashes soft against her cheeks. Why couldn’t he wake up this way every morning? All he had to do was convince her that he had changed. If I can figure out what to change.
Oz ached to touch her, to run his fingers over her skin but, if he moved, he’d waken her. He was content to enjoy the places where her delicious female parts were crushed against him, especially her warm thigh pressing his genitals and her breasts mashed against his ribs.
She stirred. “Oz? Are you awake?” Her voice was heavy with sleep.
“Kinda.” He circled his arm around her to draw her closer.
“What are you doing?”
“I was thinking about molesting you,” he answered truthfully.
She made a snorting sound.
What does that mean? Don’t be ridiculous or knock yourself out? He tried the latter and slid his hand down to her butt, squeezing one cheek affectionately.
“Stop that!” She squirmed a little, tightening the cheek muscle. He slid his fingers under her panties, caressing her smooth skin.
“Oz?”
“Shhh. Relax, Micki. This feels so good just being here with you.” He continued to stroke her backside.
She made a little sleepy sound of agreement.
He rolled her onto her back, and she stretched. He attempted to slide her panties off.
“Oz, dammit!”
That didn’t sound like a yes.
“Shh,” he said. “Go back to sleep. I just want to play with your toys.”
Micki giggled.
That didn’t sound like a no. He raised her shirt and kissed her breasts, circling her nipples with his tongue. Her eyes were closed but she grinned, twining her fingers through his hair.
Kissing down her ribs and around her navel, he started to go lower when the fingers in his hair tightened.
“No! No, stop.”
“You can’t be serious.” He climbed up to her face and pressed gentle kisses close to her ear.
She took his face in both her hands. “Oz, I haven’t been on birth control since we broke up.”
“When you broke up with me,” he corrected automatically. Her statement sank in slowly. That meant she hadn’t been with anyone else since she had broken up with him. And that means I’m the only man she’s ever been with.
A wide grin spread across his face as he gazed down at her. “I’ll be careful.”
“No, Oz.” She tried unsuccessfully to push him off of her. “I don’t know if I’m ready to get back into this...”
“You’re ready.” He nuzzled her neck.
“Oz, you’re not being fair. You can make my body turn flips for you, but that doesn’t mean my brain wants to follow.” She pulled her tee shirt down.
“I’ll take your body,” he said. “You can keep your brain.” He pushed her shirt up to apply his tongue to her nipples.
She made the whimper sound and he found her lips, kissing her so she couldn’t protest.
“No, no, no. I’m getting up.” She rolled out from under him and scampered into the bathroom.
Oz propped himself up on one elbow, grinning at her retreating form. He was mildly disappointed that they hadn’t made love, but elated to learn that she hadn’t been with anyone else. He felt that, on some level, it meant Micki still belonged to him. If she wasn’t ready to form a new relationship it meant she wasn’t finished with the old one. Now, all he had to do is figure out why she’d left him the first time and then convince her to give him a second chance.
#
That afternoon, Oz and Vinnie picked Micki up at the apartment and took her back to the park. She tried to quell her anxiety when she stepped out of the car. She loved the park but recent events had given her a different perspective.
The New York air seemed fresher here. Birds twittered. Sunlight filtered through the trees. People walked and jogged and biked all around. She could almost forget their purpose, if only she could ignore being escorted by two tall, uniformed men, armed and most definitely dangerous.
The park seemed innocuous, impossible to think that it harbored dark secrets. Someone had shot at her and started the roller coaster ride that was now her life. She tried to shake off the eerie feeling haunting her, but her stomach churned with dread as though another shot might ring out at any moment. The back of her neck tingled as though she could feel the crosshairs trained on her.
She carried her rented Leica, while Oz and Vinnie were equipped with powerful scopes like those used by snipers. She framed her shots as she’d done for Zondra’s photo shoot while Oz and Vinnie peered through the scopes trying to find the angles a sniper might have been aiming from.
Micki changed to a telephoto lens and gazed out onto the lake. She saw a crew of scullers gliding across the water like an arrow, barely raising a ripple. A man was rowing a woman in a rental boat, a much clumsier craft. She tried to imagine how romantic it would be to float in the middle of a lake, alone with a special someone.
However, being alone with Oz was becoming a problem. Her libido had always been ready, willing and able to respond to him, knowing he would satisfy her. Now, she had to keep it in check. She couldn’t let him think she was going to be sliding back into that black hole where she was a shadow of Oz.
She looked over her shoulder to where Oz and Vinnie stood talking. Vinnie looked good in his uniform. Oz, several inches taller and broader in the shoulders, was a thing of beauty; Adonis with a badge. A couple of female joggers slowed to check them out.
Micki grinned and put her eye to the cameras lens, shooting several candids of Oz. She turned back to the lake and panned from one end to the other. She noted that the scullers had stopped rowing and appeared to be having a bit of excitement.
“Oz,” she called. “There’s something going on out there.” She pointed to the middle of the lake where the scullers were preparing to row back in the direction from which they’d just come.
Oz peered through the scope. “There’s something in the water.”
“It looks like a basketball,” Vinnie offered.
The three of them walked past the boat rental stand and arrived as the scullers were gliding up to the dock, their long, flat oars in the upright position.
When they spotted the two uniformed officers, they all began talking at once.
“There’s a dead guy out there,” the team leader called, pointing to the lake. “His head is floating in the water.”
Micki’s breath caught in her throat. The dread she had been wearing like a cloak constricted her airway.
Oz reached out to pull her close, his firm grip keeping her upright. His grim expression caused a shiver to race down her spine. He was in super-hero mode, a role that suited him well.
He took charge of the scene and called in the body sighting. In no time the area was overrun with law enforcement personnel. A couple of police divers with a rigid-hull inflatable motor boat zoomed out to investigate the floating head in the middle of the lake.
Still feeling shaky and not wishing to witness the retrieval of any body parts, Micki sat on a nearby park bench with her camera, randomly taking shots of the gathering crowd and activities on the lake. She needed to be comfortable with the camera. There couldn’t be any hitches at Zondra’s nuptials. There were no retakes on a wedding.
Although she struggled to stay focused on the task at hand, her attention was drawn reluctantly to the scene at the dock.
Soon, Oz came to sit beside her. “There is a body being recovered from the lake.”
“Not just a head?”
“No, the whole guy is there. He has weights tied to his ankles. But they weren’t heavy enough to keep him submerged, so he came floating up head first.”
“Yuck!” Micki made a face and Oz smiled at her.
“Such a little girl.” He smiled and ruffled her hair as he rose from the bench.
She watched Oz rejoin his fellow cops. He was easy to follow because he stood taller than the rest. The officers had pushed the crowd back and established a perimeter. She recognized Lieutenant Qualls, Oz’ supervisor, whom she’d met the prior evening, and waved when he spotted her. He responded with a nod and surprised her by walking over to join her.
“Miss Vermillion,” he said offering his hand. “Osmond said he’d be bringing you here to try and recreate the sniper’s angles. Sorry you had to witness this body recovery.”
She stifled the shiver playing at the base of her neck. “Me too. It’s nice to see you again, Lieutenant. Last night was pretty frightening, but this is over the top.”
“Oz has good instincts and an eye for details. Did he tell you I’m looking at him for a spot in Homicide?”
Micki swallowed hard. “No, he didn’t mention that.”
“Sorry about that. I guess I spoiled the surprise.” Qualls shook his head.
Micki managed a weak smile. “I’ll never tell.”
“Since he passed his Sergeant’s exam a few months ago, I’ve had my eye on him. With budget constraints and all, I haven’t been able to promote him, but he’s too good to hold back.”
Her stomach churned with nerves. “Oz has always excelled at anything he set out to do.” She hoped he wasn’t planning on a career in homicide...She couldn’t bear it if he put himself in greater danger.
“You’ve got a good man there,” Qualls said. “By the way, the arms dealer had nothing to do with your photos in the park. He wasn’t anywhere around there. And the other guy who turned up in your photo is a minor grade thug. He didn’t have time to get up on a high building and take a shot at you.”
“That’s good to know,” Micki said. “The idea of being stalked by terrorists is too scary for me.”
The Lieutenant nodded and returned to the dock as the body was being unloaded from the boat.
Oz and the others stared down at the drowned man.
Micki tried to avert her eyes, but found her gaze drawn to the grotesque figure. She’d never seen anyone dead before other than elderly relatives at family funerals and this was after the make-up artists at the mortician’s had a chance to pink them up with a little cosmetic enhancement.
This dead man’s skin was a greenish-grey and he was swollen, distorting his features to resemble a horror movie monster. He wore gym shorts and a tight tee shirt stretched over his muscled torso.
“What a waste, huh?”
Micki started as Aida Bounds came to stand behind her bench. “I beg your pardon?”
“The muscle man in the lake,” she said. “What a waste of a hot hunk.”
“I guess.” Micki turned to look at Aida.
She was dressed similarly to their previous meeting, in a skirt and jacket with Mary Janes and white socks. It almost looked like a school uniform, especially with Aida’s shiny brown hair curled under in a bob with straight across bangs. She shoved her glasses up on her nose with her short fingers.
“What are you doing here?” Micki asked.
“I’m here to supervise the crime scene. My guys are out there processing. What are you doing here?”
“I came with Oz and Vinnie. They asked me to recreate my angles to see where the sniper might have been shooting from.”
Aida looked around. “I’d say that building, or that one.” She pointed her stubby index finger at two adjacent structures.
“Why do you think so?” Micki peered through the lens, scanning the tops of the buildings surrounding the park.
“The height is right for the angle of trajectory. I’m just guessing, but then I’m a professional and my guess is pretty accurate.”
Micki glanced at Aida to see if she was joking but the diminutive woman was completely serious. “Aren’t those the Jobe buildings?” she asked. “The architecture looks similar.”
“Those are the Jobe Towers, East and West.”
A tingling began at the base of Micki’s spine and rapidly crept up to her neck, making the tiny hairs stand on alert.
“And this body in the lake might be related to your assault,” Aida went on. “We’ll see how long he’s been in the water and how he died. If it’s a typical bloat and float, he will have been in the water at least seventy-two hours before the internal gases create a neutral buoyancy.”
Micki blanched. “Oh, gag! I could have gone all my life without knowing that.” A full blown shiver racked her body. There were too many things going on and too many changes taking place all at once.
#
“Sorry it’s taking so long.” Oz squeezed her shoulder. “Vinnie and I were first on the scene so the Lieutenant wants us to stay until the body is removed.”
Micki was tired of waiting, but Oz appeared to be engrossed in the unfolding drama. She shrugged. “It looks like you’re all just standing around down there.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going on. But I got the past week’s records from the guy at the boat rental place. We can check and see if someone rented a boat to dispose of a body when Aida tells us how long he’s been in there.”
“Well, that just sounds dumb.” Micki frowned at him.
“Sometimes felons trip themselves up by doing really dumb things.”
“So what do you think? Some guy drags a body down the dock and loads it in a rented boat in broad daylight. Don’t you think someone would notice?”
“We’ll see.” Oz was in another great mood.
Micki realized how much he loved his job. When he was in the big middle of a case he was almost as turned on as when they were making love. Almost.
“What are you grinning at?” he asked.
“You,” she said. “By the way, Aida said the sniper fired at me from one or the other of the Jobe Towers.” She pointed them out. “She said something about the angle...”
“Of trajectory,” he finished. He looked through the scope at each of the towers, in turn. “We need to check out how accessible those rooftops are.”
“But, anyone could have gone up there.” she protested.
“Doubtful. I don’t think just anyone could walk through the security guards with a high-powered rifle and gain access to the penthouse.”
“So you think Aida’s wrong?”
“Aida’s never wrong,” he said. “I need to figure out how someone got up there and why.”
“How’s it goin’, Mick?” Vinnie greeted her as he neared. “The Lieutenant wants to talk to you, Oz.”
Oz loped back down to the dock as the body was being loaded into the back of the Coroner’s van. Both Micki and Vinnie watched Oz’s retreat with interest.
“Oz says I owe you an apology for smartin’ off to you the other day.” Vinnie sat down in the place Oz had just vacated. He examined his hands and gnawed a hangnail with due reverence.
“No need,” Micki said.
“I didn’t think so either, but you know Oz. Nobody can touch his little China doll. God forbid I should speak to you inappropriately.” He gnawed another nail.
Micki considered his words. Yes, that’s what it was like. Oz would never understand why she felt so stifled by the way he loved her. He had her on a pedestal, in a glass case where he could take her out and play with her, but she wasn’t supposed to breathe without him. How could he not know how stifling it was?
“Anyways, I was just sayin’, it would be a shame for Oz to get his heart broke again if you’re jus
t playin’ with him. That’s all I was sayin’, y’know?” He turned and searched her face for some sign of understanding.
“Yeah, Vinnie,” she said. “I know exactly what you mean.”
#
Later that afternoon, Oz and Vinnie returned to the crime lab, with Micki in tow.
Aida hailed her with a nod. “Getting to be a regular around here, aren’t you? You should watch who you hang out with.”
Micki grinned at her. “It’s due to my bad upbringing. We’re all from the same neighborhood.”
“Bad element, huh?” Aida looked at Oz and laughed. She tapped the keys on her keyboard and one of Micki’s photos appeared on the screen. It showed a dark haired man staring directly into her lens. “This is the guy who later met with Polanski. He’s named Israel Soto. He’s got a juvenile record with some gang activity, but nothing recent. He may have been meeting with Polanski to set up some kind of deal or they might have been two old friends having dinner, but whatever their agenda, you spoiled the party.”
“Right place, right time.” Oz smiled. “And I seriously doubt those two are old friends.”
Aida’s stubby fingers flew over her keyboard and new photos appeared on screen. “I positively matched your newspaper clipping with the lady in the park. The facial recognition software matched her on all planes. Laurel Jobe, high society lady.”
Jobe. Micki flinched when she heard the name.