“And that’s when he gets home every night. I know he has his so-called business lunches. Might be a couple of beers with his barbeque, or he might go with a dry martini or three for an early happy hour. He’s what I’d call a functional drunk.”
Sounded as though she’d done some research on the topic. Made sense. It also reminded me that she just didn’t sit around and count money and paint her nails. Buried under all the beauty and the pain was a real person.
“I told him, if he kept drinking and pushing me away, I couldn’t live like that.”
“What did he say to that?”
“He laughed, like, really hard. Mocking me. He laughed for so long, tears were streaming down his face. He just didn’t see the tears falling from my eyes as well.”
She squeezed my hand again, harder than before. Maybe she was trying to keep it together.
“I’m so sorry, Rosie. Sounds really tough.”
“I even suggested marriage counseling. He laughed more.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, as if each memory forced her to absorb a punch to her gut. I thought about her past abuses from her ex, Billy. And then the unfathomable act of being raped by our former professor and his two teaching assistants—I was still having a hard time imagining that actually taking place.
“Rosie, you don’t have to relive all this on my account. Talk to a professional.”
She sniffled. “One night a couple of weeks ago, he acknowledged we had problems. For a fleeting moment, I felt some hope. I thought we could get help and repair our marriage. Then my hopes were stomped on by what he said next.”
I waited.
“He told me that he didn’t believe in that mumbo-jumbo therapy bullshit. And that he’d keep me as his wife just to have something nice on his arm for all the events he had to go to. But it was his God-given right to do whatever the hell he wanted, and that included fucking anything that walked by and got his attention.”
I had to force myself to breathe. This Earl guy was one for the ages. The king of pricks. “Did you ever feel like he was going to physically hurt you?”
She let go of my hand. Her eyes looked toward the moonlit lake. “That same night, he rolled on top of me, pinned my arms down, and smacked me across the face. Warned me to never question him again.”
“I…I don’t know what to say, Rosie.” I thought a moment. “I know you feel like there’s no hope, but there are options. You don’t have to go back. We can start right now. I can make a call, and we can get you into protective custody, put you in a battered women’s shelter.”
“Earl has too many friends. He could find me. How do you think he killed Stuart Benson?”
I continued my internal brainstorming session.
“Don’t try to overthink this, Ozzie. I’m okay with going home for now. I just need for you to prove that he’s cheating on me. That will keep the cops out of it. Then, once you have the evidence, I’ll figure out a way to go into hiding, find a good lawyer, and try to rebuild my life.”
I wanted to question her judgment, on many levels, but now wasn’t the time.
“I know we don’t have a formal contract yet, but I can pay you. Good money. Cash. Just give me until tomorrow, and I’ll pay you ten grand up front.”
Wow. I hadn’t even thought of the fees, much less the contract. There’d been so little time. “Won’t he know?”
“I’ve been stashing away a little money here and there for over a year. I’ve got a decent amount saved up. Just for something like this. Find the evidence. Then we can start the wheels moving.”
She patted my hand. I took a breath, looking out the front windshield. Not two seconds later, she opened the car door and swung out a leg but stopped before getting out. She flipped her head around and gave me the name of a hotel where she believed Earl would be the next day for a so-called business lunch. This lunch, she believed, would be nothing more than a rendezvous with one of his many “floozies,” as she called them. She would call me once she got her hands on a new cell phone—one that would be used only for communicating with me. And she reminded me that she would still pay me the ten grand up front.
I had no idea what to say except, “Okay.”
She said it was best if she walked down to her riverside mansion, rather than us driving all the way there, so she slipped out of the car with a tired wave. I watched her until she disappeared inside her home.
10
The look on Tito’s face was priceless. “You look like you got the shit kicked out of you.”
“You should see the other guy.” I smirked. “It’s been a long day. A very emotional client.”
He shook his head. “Tough bidness you’re in, my friend. Tough bidness.”
I picked up Mackenzie, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. A nod of thanks to Tito, and I was out the door.
She didn’t fully wake up until I laid her in her own bed and she curled up under the covers, her eyes peeping open for a few seconds. I touched the side of her face. “I’m sorry I was late picking you up, sweet pea.”
“That’s okay. Mom used to leave me alone all the time, and I was always fine. It’s not a big deal.”
What a kid. She’d dealt with so much in her young life, but she was just happy that I cared and probably knew that I’d protect her, come what may. At least I hoped I could. With this new PI gig, would I be allowing danger into our circle? Part of me worried about that.
She smiled. “Hanging out with Tito is fun. He’s a real artist, someone who talks the same language I do. But I’m going to sleep now since I have school in the morning.”
I gave her a kiss on the top of her curly head and walked to the door.
“Dad?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks for everything today. You kind of set me straight on realizing that I shouldn’t be so dramatic all the time about what other people think.”
“No problem. Just know I’ll always be here to talk to when you need it. Good night.”
“Oh, hey. I know you have stuff going on with Nicole and everything. I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“So, I just wanted to tell you that if you need to talk it out, like you did with me, I can be a pretty good listener. Mom used to tell me that.”
My eyes grew misty. I was glad the room had only a soft nightlight in the corner.
“Thanks, sweet pea. I’ll keep that in mind. Sleep tight.”
“Love you,” she murmured.
“Love you too.”
11
I walked into the Driskill Hotel in downtown Austin and immediately thought: Do I even belong here? Not that I had the wrong hotel. This five-star hotel, originally built in the 1880s, was the one Rosie had directed me to. But with soaring marble columns, massive glittering chandeliers, and even a live pianist playing a relaxing tune in the middle of the expansive lobby, it made me pause for a second. Before my life had caved in on top of me, I wouldn’t have felt self-conscious. Not that I got my jollies out of visiting high-priced hotels—home was where I was always most comfortable. It was just that now everything in my life felt different, tasted different.
“Will you be checking in with us, sir?”
A man in a well-appointed blue suit had approached me so quietly that I hadn’t taken notice. There was a low hum of activity all around us, and I guessed there were probably several events being hosted here. Not surprising in a hotel of this size. The lobby itself could hold an Olympic-sized pool.
“Not today. I’m just meeting a friend,” I said, scanning the area for a tall man with wavy gray hair.
“Would you like to wait in our bar area? We have a number of options that are suitable for lunch, or even a snack. You don’t have to partake of alcohol, but if you do, I assure you our drink menu is second to none.”
Ever the pitch man.
“Thank you.”
He extended an arm, as if he were trying to funnel me off to the side. I nodded and casually took m
y own path. I stopped at an electronic sign that listed the various goings-on at the hotel and pretended to read it, though my eyes continued the search. Rosie had already texted me from a new phone earlier this morning.
She’d sent me a picture of Earl and reaffirmed his schedule to meet someone named “Tommy” for lunch at the Driskill. I took out my phone and glanced at the picture one more time. Rosie felt certain that “Tommy” was a code word for one of his floozies. Normally, she’d said, the girls would be handpicked from one of his many truck-stop establishments. Some innocent girl who was in awe of his presence and, probably even more so, his bank account. She punctuated her final text by saying, “Even with the death of a business associate or rival, I know he’ll show up. He’s too dedicated to the other women in his life.”
Another wave of sadness washed over me as I slipped the phone into my front shirt pocket. I’d gone with the casual Texas look today. Nice jeans, loafers, a shirt that had actually been laundered and pressed. My first goal was to get a sighting of Earl meeting this Tommy person—assuming it would indeed be a woman. Then I would try to snap a picture of Earl and Tommy in the lobby, or maybe stepping into the elevator together, which was just off to my right. If I was lucky, I would figure out what floor they were on and possibly catch a quick kiss as they went in or out of their room. I was no expert at this sort of thing. And in some respects, I felt awkward about the mission, if not a little dirty.
But I knew I had to own it if I wanted to pay the bills.
While I didn’t plan on betraying Rosie’s trust, I also wasn’t planning on just trying to catch Earl playing tonsil hockey with another woman. Rosie believed Earl might have murdered his business rival—personally or indirectly. She never got around to telling me why he’d want to do that. Had Stuart Benson disrespected him in some way? I’d heard of crazier motivations for murder, especially when Texas-sized egos were at stake.
A flurry of people filtered out of one of the main corridors. I searched the group for Earl, or maybe a pretty young thing who might seem lost or overwhelmed with the ostentatious accommodations. The more I stared, the more I realized all these people were involved in some type of corporate event. Everyone was wearing name tags. Some stretched, others yawned, while a few had a look of sheer panic, as if they were desperate to find a safe space far away from the ballroom. The mind-numbing drudgery of the corporate life.
My gaze followed two of the corporate sheep over to the bar. My mouth started watering for something remotely healthy. Tomato juice would be nice. I whirled around and bumped chests with someone.
“I’m—” was all I could get out before I realized who it was.
“Ozzie? It’s you. It’s really you.”
It was Nicole. She was dressed in a gray pencil skirt, a white-and-black patterned blouse that was slightly see-through. Her hair was the usual controlled mess of ringlets surrounding her pretty face. She was a striking woman, no doubt. She had been my forever-woman at one time. I had no idea where I was going in life just yet—I only knew I wanted to raise Mackenzie in the best way possible—but I wasn’t so sure Nicole would be a part of “me” in the same way again.
I rocked back on my heels, hands in my pockets, and grinned. “Yup, it’s really me.” No hard feelings here—nope. I was a work in progress.
“It’s really good to see you. It’s been a while. Too long,” she said, putting her hand to her cheek as she gave me the once-over.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. I wasn’t sure what else to say. There was a moment of silence.
“So, are you here on business?” she asked.
“Well…”
“Right,” she said, leaning in closer, with a hand to the side of her face. “You working a case?”
“Something like that.” I really didn’t want to get into the nature of my investigation. Hit too close to home, for obvious reasons. “I was about to get a drink. You want to join me?”
I was surprised when the words left my mouth, but, really, what was the big deal? We had a history, and truth be told, it really was nice to see her again.
“Hey, Oz, I’d love to sit down, have a drink, and catch up. I want it more than you can imagine. But I’m actually working right now.”
“Oh, right. I never asked why you were here.” I looked back toward the corridor, where the flock of corporate citizens had flown the coop. Nicole was in marketing, which, apparently, was how she’d met her “Mr. C,” the murderous asswipe who’d swept her off her feet and crushed our marriage. I began to rethink my invitation.
“No worries,” I said. “You take care.” I turned to walk away, but she grabbed my arm.
“Ozzie,” she said.
“What’s up?”
“Just know how much I want us to…”
“You don’t have to say it.”
“Someone does, Ozzie. You know I made a mistake. A big one. And I’m willing to own up to it.”
“Hey, it takes two to tango.” My eyes searched for safe place—anywhere but her eyes. I finally settled on her hand. Then, I realized she hadn’t responded. “Oh, I meant you and me. You know, I’m sure I wasn’t perfect.”
“I didn’t know how perfect you were until I lost you.” She moved so close I could feel her breasts against my chest. Not exactly a turnoff. I took in a breath, which only pressed us together that much more. I could feel my head start to lean down. So much for my stiff upper lip.
“Oh, darlin’, you haven’t seen anything out of Big Earl yet.”
My eyes went wide, and my head snapped up. I looked over Nicole’s shoulder to see Earl—cowboy boots, belt buckle like a manhole cover—standing next to a young woman. Younger than Rosie, which was hard to fathom.
“What is it?” Nicole started to look behind her.
“Don’t look,” I said under my breath.
Earl and the girl headed for the elevator. I started walking in that direction. Nicole trotted along next to me. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Just following you. I think you might need my help.”
“Why would—” I stopped short as we reached the elevator and the doors opened. Earl and the girl walked into the elevator. Nicole interlaced her fingers in my hand as if we were a real-life couple and ushered us in. She practically pushed me into the corner and started nibbling at my neck.
I wasn’t sure what to make of her behavior. It was distracting and uncalled for.
“What floor?” Earl asked us.
Of course, I had no answer. Nicole goosed me, and I giggled like a little kid—which was really embarrassing. But it got us out of having to respond.
“Whatever.” Earl punched the button for the sixth floor. Then, the girl, apparently not wanting to be outdone by the love muffin draped all over me, started tickling the old man. It was quite disturbing. I assumed the girl was “Tommy.” She didn’t look old enough to drink, but she certainly filled out her tight-fitting, ivory mini-dress. Her legs were long and toned. Yep, looked like Earl didn’t throw back the little fish.
Nicole stopped forcing herself on me just long enough to turn around and push the button for the seventh floor. Then she was back at it again. I didn’t fight it. In fact, I was able to turn my back to Earl completely. Less of a chance for him to remember me, I hoped.
The elevator stopped, and the two lovebirds exited. Once the doors shut, Nicole moved back a couple of steps and smiled. “Now we know what floor they’re on.”
“You did this on purpose.”
“I put two and two together, starting with how you reacted when you saw them. When I set my eyes on the two, I knew…well, I knew what was going on. This is your case.”
The door dinged, and she extended her arm for me to head out. I walked into the carpeted hallway and then turned around. “Thank you,” I said.
“It’s not over yet. We need evidence, right?”
“Uh, I guess so.”
“Then don’t just stand there. Let’s get our asses down to six.”
&nb
sp; We were a regular Castle and Beckett.
12
Nicole headed toward the east stairwell exit and I to the exit door at the other end of the hallway. I hoofed it down two flights of concrete steps. With my phone in one hand, ready to snap a picture, I slowly opened the door to the sixth floor.
I was just in time. I saw Earl and Tommy slipping into a room.
What now?
A cleaning lady unlocked the adjacent room to that door and entered with a handful of chocolates and red rose petals.
Talk about white-glove treatment.
I felt my phone buzz. Staying inside the safe dwelling of the stairwell, I picked up the call from Nicole.
“Did you see them on your end?” she asked.
“Yep, just a split second before the door closed behind them. No time for pictures, though. I guess I wasn’t quick enough.”
I took another peek into the hallway and saw Nicole walking in my direction. I put the phone up to my mouth. “What are you doing?”
“It’s a free country, isn’t it?” she said with a prideful defiance.
She loved being sassy, especially with me.
“But what if they walk out and see you?”
“Then I’ll ask them where my hunk of a husband is.” She laughed, and I tried not to.
A moment later, she opened the door and joined me in the stairwell. “This feels like we’re in a timeout,” she said.
“Maybe we are. Maybe we should be,” I said.
“You meant that for me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
She waved me off. “I get it.” Then she tilted her head, looked up to the ceiling, and twisted her lips. I’d seen that look before. She was thinking.
“What?”
“Did you see that maid out there?” she asked.
“Yeah, she’s in the room next door to Earl and Tommy, doing turndown service or something. Kind of odd in the middle of the day.”
Her back straightened. “So they’re in the room next to where the maid is right now?”
ON The Rocks (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 3) (Redemption Thriller Series 15) Page 4