ON The Rocks (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 3) (Redemption Thriller Series 15)

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ON The Rocks (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 3) (Redemption Thriller Series 15) Page 15

by John W. Mefford


  I shook my head.

  “Are you denying it?”

  “I just know that this is all wrong. We took everything too far. And I don’t blame you alone for that. It’s my fault too. I should have kept everything at a professional level.”

  “But you couldn’t stop yourself. I couldn’t either. We are meant to be. Let’s just embrace it.”

  “Rosie, have you forgotten? I have a fucking wife! Equally important, I have a daughter! I’m not leaving Mackenzie under any circumstances.”

  “I know she’s the center of your universe. That’s why, after we do a couple of things, we’ll pick her up from school and then just drive away. With the money I’ve saved, we can move to anywhere in the world. Start a new life, experience a different culture. It will be exciting, fulfilling. We can put all this drama behind us.”

  She was trying to sound nice and caring, but tension radiated from her. The Earl/Snake monster had rocked her to the core. She needed more than protection. She needed therapy. It seemed like she’d been trying to elude her traumas throughout her entire adult life, but it was always right behind her, nipping at her heels.

  I had to dial back this tension if I had any hope of persuading her that her pipe dreams were nonsensical and that she should go to the police. “Rosie, I’m flattered that you have been thinking about a future for us. And yes, I know we have this…connection. But I live in Austin. Mackenzie has been through her own traumas. She needs stability, not living like a nomad.”

  She shot a turbulent glance in my direction. “Don’t be that way.” Her words sounded more like a command—not a kind suggestion.

  I glanced up and realized we were heading toward a section of town that had very few homes, and those were nearly in shambles. Lots of hills, trees, but also lots of graffiti. The area was called Boggy Creek, and oddly fitting. I saw a pit bull traipsing down the street, as if he were on patrol.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Need to do something before we go to pick up Mackenzie.”

  My jaw tightened, which hurt like hell. But this nonsense had to stop before it got even worse than it already was. “Rosie, we’re not going to pick up Mackenzie. I’m not going with you to some foreign country, or anywhere. If you don’t turn this car around and go back to the Copeland house, then I’ll call Brook and have the cops find us.” The moment I pulled out my phone, she reached over and smacked it out of my hand.

  I was shocked, though I probably shouldn’t have been. “What are you…?” I tried to grab the phone off the floorboard, but she was fighting me for it. “Rosie, stop.”

  A second later, we hopped the curb and skidded to a stop in a heap of dirt.

  A few breaths.

  I looked over, realized she had the phone in her hand. She opened the car door and threw it outside.

  “What the fuck, Rosie? This has got to stop.” I started to open the door, but she punched the gas. We moved only a few feet. I could feel the back end of the SUV bucking.

  “Dammit, a flat tire. When will anything ever go right for me?” She rammed her head into the steering wheel. And then she did it again and again. I leaned over and grabbed her shoulders. “Stop hurting yourself. Stop it, okay?”

  She pulled back, and I saw blood on her forehead. She didn’t seem to care. “Snake will find us if we’re stuck here for long. We need to…” Her eyes darted around. “I’ll change the tire, and you keep a lookout for the blue pickup.”

  She opened the door and got out of the car. I did the same.

  “Stay in the car, Ozzie.”

  “What? You can’t change a tire.”

  “That is so sexist. I’ve changed many tires in my life.”

  “Okay, sorry.” Damn, she was so off the rails. I headed to the street to find my phone.

  But she beat me to it. She snapped it up, slid it into her pocket, and stormed to the back of the SUV. “Get in the car. If you don’t want to go with me, then don’t ruin it for me. I have to get out of here. And this is the only way.”

  Her eyes were shooting red-hot daggers at me. I had one hand on my door. She opened the back of the SUV and started pushing something back to get to the wheel well. I wasn’t going to let her do this on her own. We’d change the tire, and then I’d figure out a way to either grab the keys from her or, at the least, get my phone back. This fiasco was going to end very soon.

  As I pulled around the back and peered inside, I saw a tarp in the back, covering something. She was leaning over the wheel well, trying to pull out the tire.

  The tarp moved, and not because of what Rosie was doing.

  I reached for the tarp.

  “What are you doing, Ozzie?” She grabbed my arm and tugged just as I pulled the tarp to the side.

  My heart exploded into the back of my throat. It was a woman, tied up, with duct tape over her mouth. “Holy shit, Rosie?” I looked closer. “Is she alive?” Her face was swollen from bruising. An eye moved. “She’s alive. Wait, is that Summer Davis?” I turned to look at Rosie, in utter disbelief.

  She was pointing a gun right at me. I stared at the weapon. It was shaking. In fact, Rosie’s whole body was trembling, as tears streamed down her face. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

  “What way? You didn’t think I’d see a woman tied up in the back of your car?”

  She gritted her teeth. “No, dammit! I needed help. I wanted you to help me bury her somewhere. Like around here. Someplace where no one would find her.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Don’t look at me that way. That bitch is nothing but a slut. She slept with Earl just to get back at me.”

  I flipped my head around and looked at Summer. Both eyes were open. She started shaking her head.

  Back to Rosie. “We need to get her to a hospital.”

  “Not going to happen.” She set her feet. “I don’t want to have to hurt you, Ozzie. You’ve meant everything to me. You’ve been my white knight.”

  “Rosie, wake the fuck up. I love Nicole. She’s my wife. This has gone too far. Like, off the charts, okay? I’m going to pull Summer out of the car, and we’re going to call the police and paramedics. You’ve gone over the deep end. You can plead insanity…for good reason. You can then get the help you need.”

  She dropped the gun to her side and put her hand over her face. “The demons just won’t go away, Oz. They just won’t go away.” She began to sob.

  I didn’t have the time or the mental fortitude to comfort her. I peeled the tape away from Summer’s mouth.

  “Shit. Look out!” she yelled.

  Before I could turn around, something smashed into my head. I fell to my knees, and then my whole body crumpled to the street. My mind swirled, but I hadn’t completely lost consciousness. Rosie stepped over me. I could hear her yelling expletives, but it sounded like it was coming from some alternative universe.

  I questioned if I was still conscious or if it was all a dream.

  A moment later, something heavy dropped on top of me. It moved just a little and slipped off me. Summer? I tried to get up. Wasn’t going to happen. I reached for her, or imagined I did.

  A gunshot split the air. I flinched so fast, I thought I broke my neck. A moment of lucidity, and I fell back into my daze. I rolled onto my side. Summer was staring right at me, but she wasn’t blinking. Blood curled down her face.

  I knew it for sure. She was dead.

  Rosie started shouting again. A few minutes passed. I heard a dog bark. Then, I saw tires roll to a stop. Two people were talking. I couldn’t hear them. Someone else was standing over me. I shut my eyes, didn’t move. I wanted them to think I was out, which wasn’t far from reality. Then, loud, arguing voices. Finally, two doors slammed shut, and the car rolled away.

  Silence. I looked around and saw no one. I got to my knees, crawled to the other side of the Honda.

  Rosie was gone.

  34

  Leaning against the back of a police cruiser, I rubbed my eyes. The m
an who’d found me and called the cops was talking to Brook and another plainclothes officer on the other side of the cordoned-off street. The Honda was still in the same place. Summer’s body was covered with a sheet. There had to be twenty or thirty law enforcement types around, at least a dozen vehicles.

  Brook walked toward me. “Did you let the paramedic look at your head?”

  “Nice-sized bruise, but I’ll live.” In reality, it seemed like the crack in my jaw had only split across my skull.

  She grabbed my hand, which was holding a pack of ice, and guided it upward.

  “Okay, okay.” I put the ice on my head. “Did you find my phone anywhere?”

  “Oh, right.” She pulled it out of her pocket, handed it to me. The screen was cracked, but it was still working. I sent off a text asking if Ervin could pick up Mackenzie and keep her at his house for a while.

  “Making sure Mackenzie is taken care of?”

  “Yep.” My voice sounded like I’d been asleep for a week.

  “So, again, you’re saying you don’t recall the vehicle or the person who got out of the car.”

  “I wasn’t sure if they were going to kill me, so I just pretended to be out.”

  “That probably saved your life.”

  I looked over at Summer Davis, where two guys with “Medical Examiner” written on their jackets pulled back the sheet and began doing what they do.

  “Rosie killed her, Brook. She’s fucking lost it.”

  “I know. This is nuts.” She raked her fingers through her hair and took a quick call.

  A paramedic walked up and handed me a bottle of water. I thanked him and chugged the entire bottle. Ervin replied to my text with: No problem. My mind was put at ease in one area of my life.

  Brook hung up and turned to me. “That was my captain, asking for a quick update. We’ve got APBs out for Rosie, but with no car, it may not help. They’ve alerted border patrol, every agency in the state, including the local FBI office. After thinking about it more, do you have any ideas on who could have picked up Rosie?”

  I shrugged.

  “You said she thought she was being followed by this Snake fellow.”

  “Lyle Pierce.” I told her about the description of the pickup truck Rosie had given me.

  “So you’re certain it wasn’t him who showed up and kidnapped her?”

  “Didn’t seem like a kidnapping to me. Lots of arguing, though. I couldn’t tell what they were saying.” I paused, let the whole scene replay in my mind. “Rosie stepped over me and then shot Summer. Look, we know the beef Rosie had with Summer—the girl had screwed her husband. I just feel like this was all Rosie’s deal, and this person who picked her up was…I don’t know, more of an accomplice or friend.”

  “A girlfriend? You think she’s working with another woman.”

  “I have no clue if she’s working with anyone. And I can’t say it’s a girl. Could have been a guy.”

  “And the person who showed up obviously had no issue with Rosie killing Summer Davis.”

  “Now that I think about it, I think she killed Summer before the car showed up. I can’t remember for sure,” and those words nearly sent me into a frenzy. I’m deaf, and now I have memory loss too? If I could have slapped myself, I would have. I needed to focus. I understood how memories came around in due time. I thought a long time before I finally blurted out, “Maybe she had another man in her life.”

  “Which, of course, makes no sense, because she wanted you to run off with her to some foreign country.”

  “I know. It’s hard to comprehend. I just know that she’s lost it. She’s becoming unhinged.”

  Brook scoffed, “Becoming?”

  I had nothing to say to that.

  Brook turned and eyed the crime scene. I followed her gaze and continued to roll through my memories a wee bit at a time. I wouldn’t give up. There was something there that would help. I thought through the last few days, starting with Rosie’s initial meeting with me. She had wanted dirt on her husband’s cheating so she could divorce him. That was the initial premise. But so much more had spilled out.

  “I wonder if Rosie was being truthful with me this whole time.”

  Brook flipped her head around and gave me a look. “She’s got issues, Ozzie. Honesty, or a lack thereof, is top on the list.”

  I put my hand to my head and pressed as my brow furrowed. “Okay, right. But now I’m questioning everything. Or most everything.”

  “We can’t forget about the murder of Stuart Benson in all of this. All I know is what Rosie told you about overhearing Earl threatening Benson’s life. Truthfully, Ozzie? I don’t believe anything she’s told you.” She turned away, biting her lip.

  “Well, we know she was traumatized by that shooting.”

  “Fuck’s sake. I guess.”

  “Okay, Miss Sarcasm. You guess? Don’t you recall what she was like at Peretti’s? You should have seen her when she first walked in. She looked like an extra in The Walking Dead.”

  “Fair enough. Maybe she was an innocent victim.” she said, sounding totally unconvinced. She reached for her phone and typed something on the screen. At about the same time, one of the MEs walked over and gave us his hypothesis on the type of bullet that had killed Summer.

  “Nine-millimeter-caliber. I’d bet a hundred bucks on it,” he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’ll pull it out during my autopsy, but I just came from the shooting at the Copeland house. My guess? Same weapon.”

  My blood turned cold.

  He walked off, leaving me and Brook in silence. Slowly, our eyes locked.

  “So,” Brook said, putting a hand to her hip, “has our little sexpot been on a mission to seek revenge against all these men…” She then glanced to the lifeless body on the street. “…and women who have done her wrong? Like you said earlier, Oz—you wondered if this was all a ruse.”

  “I didn’t use that exact term, but I get the gist of what you’re saying.”

  “She was using you, Ozzie.” She slapped her thighs so hard…hell, I winced.

  “For what, a humping post?” I held up a hand before she could retort. “Sorry, self-deprecating humor. Not appropriate, I know.”

  “Well, it sounds like she wanted more than a humping post. Hell, maybe she actually was looking for a companion. And when she didn’t get an immediate hell-yeah from you, she cracked and started plotting these murders.”

  I didn’t want my rejection of her to be the reason why she’d turned into a killing machine. Or even if I had been the reason… It’s just not what people do! “I guess it’s possible. Right now, I’d believe just about anything.”

  “So, let’s think this through a bit. This mystery person who picked her up… Will Rosie use him or her to get out of town? Or, like we noted earlier, could this person be more of an accomplice, someone involved with the notches in Rosie’s kill belt?”

  “Who knows? She’s been rather unpredictable up to this point.”

  “Well, think, dammit. Who would be next on her list?”

  I sighed, tried to relax and let my mind wander. “I would say Billy. But...”

  She shook a knowing finger in front of my face. She had nails, but they weren’t fake. “She visited Billy’s family in the hospital after the birth of their son. Doesn’t sound like a woman who was holding a vendetta against her ‘emotionally abusive ex-husband.’” She actually used air quotes.

  I cringed.

  She then called over an officer and gave him some instructions. He nodded about six times and then walked off.

  “Care to share?” I asked.

  “Told him to send two squad cars over to the Dixon house. First, make sure he’s there. If he is, quiz him about any contacts with Rosie. I’m talking about since the birth of Dixon’s son. We can search his phone records, but that will take warrants and crap. No time for that right now. Okay, so we need to figure out her next victim.”

  A thought zapped to the front of my mind. “Who
does she hate more than anyone? Based upon what I know of her and who’s still alive, I’d say Earl might be at the top of her list.”

  Brook walked away.

  “My breath? My deodorant?” I called out.

  She looked over her shoulder. “You coming with me?”

  35

  Brook decided not to turn on the flashing lights as we made our way toward the Alvarado lake house.

  “We know it’s a crapshoot, but still, we don’t want to forewarn anyone of our presence. The element of surprise is always better,” she said, sounding almost maniacal.

  “Unless you’re on the receiving end.” I pointed at my head.

  “Are you going to just complain or maybe put the ice on it like the paramedic said?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  She smirked and then refocused her eyes on the road. Traffic was heavy coming out of downtown. There was usually only a couple of hours during any given day when cars didn’t come to a complete stop on I-35. Which is why everyone usually flooded the side streets. But it didn’t help much if you weren’t aware which streets were one-way or two-way. Brook, apparently, was still learning.

  She released a growing number of expletives each time she’d reach a road where she would want to turn left and couldn’t. I tried to speak up, but what did I know? I’d only been in Austin my entire life.

  We eventually crossed the lake, wound our way through the hillside, and finally approached the lakeside property, which had to be at least a couple acres. At our lower elevation, I couldn’t see any other homes because of the surrounding trees.

  “Very secluded,” Brook said as she pulled the car to a stop at the front of the long driveway. “Let’s approach by foot.”

  She got out of the car and shut the door quietly. I followed suit and then said, “So, we don’t announce our arrival, so to speak.”

  “Right.”

  We walked on crushed gravel. Even with my hearing challenges, I could detect the crunch of each of our steps. The tops of the trees swayed from the wind, but, at our level, the air was still. We rounded a bend and could see the front of the house and garage off to the right. The home could have been on the cover of Architectural Digest. It had this unique Texas vibe but also a modern sleekness. Lots of windows. A tin roof with multiple roof lines. Stone accents along the support columns every few feet. The rust-colored gravel under our feet segued into the same color of stone on the columns.

 

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