by J. D. Faver
“We kind of got back together again.” Micki flashed the ring.
“Oh, my God!” Gina shrieked. “Oh, my God, Oh, my God.” She pulled Micki’s hand over to inspect the ring. “It’s huge! That Oz is such a great guy. So, he took you back after you dumped him and got you this big fat diamond ring. You are so lucky, Micki Vermillion. You are one lucky girl.”
Micki heaved a deep sigh. “Yes, I am.”
#
“What are you people trying to do?” Laurel Jobe stormed from the back of the penthouse to the foyer when Lissa opened the door.
“We have a warrant, Ma’am,” Oz said. “Step out into the hallway and we’ll try to carry it out as quickly as possible.”
“What in the hell are you looking for?”
“Just step out here, Mrs. Jobe, Miss Montgomery. Is anyone else at home?”
“My son, Trey and our chauffer, Javier.”
Once everyone was rounded up and situated in the foyer, Oz assigned one of the officers to watch the group while he, Vinnie and another officer entered the Jobe penthouse.
Oz searched through Hobart Jobe’s office without discovering a gun. He found a locked safe set into the wall and a wealth of files and folders. There was no computer in his office, but there was in the couple’s bedroom. Oz removed the computer and files.
He entered another bedroom that turned out to be Javier’s. It was sparsely furnished and, judging from the lack of personal effects, Oz assumed that Javier spent much of his personal time at another location, perhaps with parents or a girlfriend. A cache of girlie magazines under the bed attested to Javier’s interest in the fairer sex.
A couple of family photos caught Oz’ attention. He picked up a framed photograph and saw Javier in a large group of people, among them a face he recognized. He took the photo with him back to the station.
None of the officers turned up a weapon in the Jobe penthouse. Their haul consisted of the computer and a stack of papers and bank records.
When they left, Oz said, “Sorry for the disturbance, Mrs. Jobe.”
“I hope you all rot in hell.” She stomped into the penthouse and slammed the door.
#
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Hobart Jobe looked shrunken, leaning to one side of his chair. He maintained a thin smile as he gazed impassively at the men sitting opposite him.
Marshall Keanes took a seat beside his client. He cleared his throat. “Against my advice, Mr. Jobe wishes to make a statement.”
“I did it, gentlemen,” he said. “I shot Jason Best.”
Oz and Qualls stared at him and then at each other. Qualls recovered first. “When did this take place, sir?”
“Two days ago. It was early in the morning.” He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself.
“Could you tell us in your own words, what happened?”
Jobe emitted a dry little chuckle. “Of course, I’ll use my own words. Did you think I’d memorized a script?”
“No sir,” Qualls said. “Please go on.”
“As I said, it was early in the morning. I knew Jason’s habit of coming in to the spa before anyone else so he could work out and use the facilities uninterrupted.” He cleared his throat and reached for the water. His hand shook as he carefully gripped the glass and raised it to his lips. He took a sip and set the glass down on the table with particular concentration.
A muscle twitched beside Jobe’s eye as he held Qualls gaze. “I waited for him. When he got out of his car, I shot him in the head.”
“Why did you shoot Mr. Best?” Qualls asked.
“I was angry because he’d been bothering my wife. He’d been employed as her personal trainer but he...took liberties. She tried to terminate his services, but he threatened to go to the press and claim they’d been having an affair. I was only trying to protect her honor from a complete cad.”
“I see.” Qualls glanced at Oz.
Oz leaned forward. “Mr. Jobe, what did you do with the gun you used to kill Jason Best?”
“The river. I threw it in the river.” Jobe spoke as though this was a major accomplishment in itself.”
“And what kind of gun was it, sir?” Oz asked.
For the first time, Jobe’s thin smile disappeared, giving way to irritation. Clearly, this was a man not used to having his word questioned.
“How the hell should I know? I asked someone to get me a gun and that was what they brought me.”
“Who obtained the gun for you?” Oz asked.
Hobart regarded him solemnly. “I’d rather not say.”
“Sir, could you explain your relationship with Philip Luka?” Oz stared at Hobart coldly, but felt his jaw tighten when he said Luka’s name.
After a moment of hesitation, Jobe glanced, for the first time, at Marshall Keanes.
“Mr. Jobe hired Mr. Luka to act as go-between for him in a certain transaction.”
“Could you define the nature of that transaction for us?” Qualls asked.
“Mr. Luka was to procure certain photographs and materials which could prove to be embarrassing to the Jobe family if they were published,”
Keanes said.
Oz tried unsuccessfully to keep the rage he felt out of his voice when he spoke. “You’re saying that you hired Philip Luka to break into the apartment of one Micki Vermillion, a wedding photographer, steal photographs and a camera, destroy her computer and assault Miss Vermillion?”
“Absolutely not!” Hobart Jobe glared back at Oz. “I hired him to pay this photographer the sum of one hundred thousand dollars for her photographs.”
“That’s all?” Qualls asked, a slight hand gesture telling Oz to back off.
Jobe nodded at him.
“And when Philip Luka assaulted a police officer during one of his contacts with Miss Vermillion, you had no knowledge of that?”
“Absolutely not,” Jobe averred.
“Then why did you send Mr. Keanes to act as Mr. Luka’s attorney when he was arrested for assaulting the officer?”
Keanes spoke up. “Anything Mr. Luka did, other than purchasing the photographs, while acting as liaison for my client, Mr. Jobe, was entirely his own doing,”
“Careful, counselor,” Qualls cautioned. “Since you represent both men, you don’t want to act in any way unprofessionally. Speaking of which, Mr. Keanes, you arranged bail for Mr. Luka?”
“Yes, I did. I believed he wasn’t a flight risk. Mr. Luka assured me he was innocent of the charges against him.”
“It wasn’t because you and Mr. Jobe wanted Luka to get out of the country?”
“Certainly not!” Marshall Keanes seemed to fluff up, looking like a Central Park pigeon on a cold day. “I was following my client, Mr. Jobe’s, directives. At the time we thought Luka had only carried out Mr. Jobe’s instructions to purchase the photos and back up material from the photographer.”
Lieutenant Qualls took a deep breath and blew it out. “Mr. Hobart Jobe,” he said. “In light of your confession to the murder of Jason Best, we are holding you for arraignment.” He turned to Oz. “Please read Mr. Jobe his rights and escort him to a cell.”
#
Oz looked exhausted. It had been late when he finally got back to his apartment.
Micki fed him and unbuttoned his shirt.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“You look dead on your feet,” she said. “Let’s go to bed early.”
“Now, that’s what I mean.” He grinned at her. “You’re going to undress me?”
“If I have to.” She pressed a kiss against his shoulder. “Resistance is futile. Surrender.”
“I give up.” He grinned as he kicked out of his shoes.
As soon as he lay down on the bed he closed his eyes and was soon asleep.
Micki stood over him, gazing down in awe. He must be wiped out not to be making a physical overture or at least teasing her. She shed her clothes and crawled in beside him, pulling a light coverlet over them both.
Oz’
arms encircled her and she kissed him lightly before curling herself against him and joining him in sleep mode.
#
“Oz? I wouldn’t have called except she says she knows you. What do you want me to do?”
It was almost one thirty in the morning.
Oz glanced at Micki, sleeping curled up beside him and stifled the urge to hang up. “I’ll be right there.” He eased out of bed and threw on his jeans and shirt. He grabbed his badge and gun before tiptoeing out the door.
He drove to the bar close to the station that was frequented by cops. It had been his hangout with Vinnie before getting back together with Micki. A beer and a few games of pool or darts with his buds had kept him from going home to his lonely apartment and brooding about how his relationship with Micki had gone wrong.
He entered and got a few waves and grunts of greeting from people he knew.
She was sitting at the bar with Eddie, the bartender, and Vinnie standing close by.
Oz swallowed hard and ducked his head. He knew he was headed for trouble, but some sense of guilt kept him from turning around and departing the same way he had come in. He owed this to her.
Vinnie raised his eyebrows and gave Oz a shake of his head as he slid onto a stool at the end of the bar. Close enough to lend a hand, but far enough to give them a little privacy.
“She’s cooled down now,” Eddie said. “But when I called you, she was on a tear. She threw her beer mug at the mirror behind the bar and broke it. She broke all those bottles too. She was just wild, man.”
Oz nodded and took the stool beside Fawn. “What’s going on?” he asked.
She didn’t look at him, but kept fiddling with the clasp of her oversized handbag, her loud, familiar perfume assailing his senses like a cloud of nerve gas. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I shouldn’t have,” he said.
Eddie went behind the bar and drew a beer for Oz.
“I miss you, you know,” she said, a little quiver in her voice.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ll bet you don’t even think of me.” She looked up at him, her mascara smeared and streaked down her cheeks.
He didn’t answer, taking a sip of beer instead. “What happened here?” He pointed to the wreckage behind the bar.
She examined a broken artificial nail. “I thought you might be here. I just wanted to talk.”
“I haven’t been in this bar since...”
“I know,” she said. “I heard all about it from your dear friend, Vinnie. He said you were back with the love of your life and I should just forget all about you.” She swiveled the barstool to face him, her long legs pressed against his. “Except, I can’t forget you Oz.”
“Fawn, I can’t see you again. I’m engaged to marry Micki now. I’ve been in love with her since I was a kid.”
Her face crumpled and she reached out to him, grasping him around the neck. He met Vinnie’s disapproving glare over Fawn’s head while she pressed herself against his chest. She leaned on him heavily, crying as he patted her shoulder.
“Come on, Fawn,” he said. “Don’t do this.”
“I can’t help how I feel.” Her voice quavered as she sniffled wetly against his chest. “I’m never going to meet a nice guy.”
“Sure you are,” he said. “You’re not looking in the right places. Nice guys don’t hang out in bars and strip clubs.”
“That’s where I met you,” she pulled away to look up at him, her face appearing clown-like with its smeared make up.
“That was my birthday. The guys took me out, but that’s not where I would normally hang out.” He tried disengaging her arms from around his neck. “I have to go home now. I don’t think Eddie will press charges if you pay for the damage and leave.”
“So that’s it? You never want to see me again?” She drew back in amazement. “What does that little bitch do for you that I can’t do better?”
Oz looked at her and smiled. “She’s just Micki. She’s mine and I love her.”
“I mean in the sack. What does she do for you in the sack?”
Oz couldn’t keep the half smile at bay. “She lets me love her.”
Fawn drew back her hand as though she meant to slap him, but changed her mind. She took a breath and turned back to face Eddie. “How much do I owe you for the mirror and the booze?”
Oz slipped off the stool and joined Vinnie at the end of the bar.
Vinnie shook his head, grinning. “You’ve got ‘em throwing themselves at you.”
“I don’t want anything to mess up what I have with Micki now. Can you take Fawn home?”
“I will if she wants me to.”
“She wants you to.”
#
Oz stared down at Micki, still asleep. He left his tee shirt and pants in a pile beside the bed with his shoes.
When he slid into bed beside her she opened her eyes.
“You smell funny,” she said, her voice thick with sleep. “Cigarettes and something nasty like cheap perfume.”
It figures. I try to do something nice and get nailed for it. “Sorry,” he said. “I had to go out.” He thought he’d better not reveal his mission, since Micki still had a sore spot where Fawn was concerned.
But she had eased back to sleep in his arms. He took a thankful breath and snuggled next to her. If he never had to explain this night’s actions it would be too soon.
The next morning, Oz slipped out of bed before Micki awoke and stuffed the clothes he’d worn the previous night into a plastic hamper with his other dirty clothes. He resolved to take them down to the laundry room as soon as possible to erase any traces of his whereabouts.
He gave himself a mental head slap for even responding to Eddie’s phone call. In the future he wouldn’t react, even if Fawn lay bleeding in the street.
He shook his head to erase that image, acknowledging that he felt guilty. Guilty for letting himself become involved with someone he didn’t care about and guilty for hurting her. He knew, first hand, how it felt to be rejected by someone you loved.
He remembered when Vinnie and the other guys had taken him out for his birthday. They’d started out at Eddie’s and Oz had drunk more than usual, but it was his birthday and the guys were buying.
Vinnie had seemed intent on getting him plowed, probably hoping to heal his heartbreak over Micki. They took him to the strip club where he’d leaned on the stage-side bar with the other guys, whistling and clapping along with them.
When Fawn danced, she’d paid particular attention to Oz, grinding her voluptuous body in his lap. When Vinnie took him home, he’d dropped Fawn off with him.
Oz remembered telling her that he was tired and drunk, but since Vinnie had left her, she insisted on going inside to call someone to pick her up. That’s all he recalled of that night. When he awoke the next morning she was in his bed and, after that, he couldn’t seem to convince her that he’d never be in love with her.
When the guys he worked with found out Fawn was after him, they gave him a hard time, but it was clear that they were envious. Considering the beating his ego had taken when Micki dumped him, it was little wonder that he’d gone along with it.
Oz jumped in the shower and reached for the deodorant soap. He lathered it on his chest and arms to erase any lingering trace of Fawn’s perfume. He was acting like a guilty man and he’d only gone to Eddie’s to keep him from pressing charges.
“Hey!” Micki pulled back the shower curtain and joined him. “Did you go out last night, or did I dream it?” She reached for the shampoo.
“You dreamed it.” He reached for her and pulled her into a tender kiss.
#
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Oz eyed the mountain of papers. They had been taken from the Jobe offices and residence and wound up in the lab, not because they were anticipating finding any trace evidence, but because the lab had the biggest tables for sorting.
It appeared that the man didn’t use a computer as his corresponde
nce had been dictated to one of several secretaries. His files contained very few hand-written notations either.
His financial statements were being thoroughly scrutinized by experts in the field of forensic accounting.
Oz commandeered Hobart Jobe’s rolodex. He’d seen one like it in Micki’s father’s studio. Oz stored all his phone numbers in his cell phone and couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen an address book that wasn’t online.
Examining every card, Oz looked for anything out of the ordinary. He’d reviewed the vast business holdings, mostly real estate, but Jobe also held an interest in a wide variety of other businesses, such as restaurants, night clubs, travel agencies and trendy little boutiques.
He pulled one card off its track. Extermination Services with no address listed, just an eight hundred number. It was odd that it listed no contact name. He considered it for a minute, but thought that with all his properties Hobart Jobe might have reason to employ an exterminator and slipped the card back among the others.
Lieutenant Qualls walked through just often enough to make people nervous. He kept asking each of them what they’d found, but they mostly had nothing. Other than the payment to Keanes in the exact amount of Luka’s bail, there was nothing in his financial records to indicate any ties between the two men.