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 19

by John W. Mefford


  “What did you learn?” I asked when she approached.

  She knocked my feet off her desk. I flinched from a stab of pain in my hip.

  “Damn, you’re getting old.” She grinned.

  “You seem like you’re in a good mood.”

  “I’m hopeful.”

  “About?”

  “Humanity.”

  “That’s specific. Care to elaborate?”

  “Vending machine first. My treat. I’m starving.”

  We walked over to the machines, and I mulled over the options. I couldn’t decide. “You go ahead.”

  She selected some pretzels, munched on one or two, and offered some to me.

  “No thanks, but I’ll have one of my own, if you don’t mind.”

  “Germaphobe,” she said.

  Once I had a bag of my own, I popped two in my mouth and said between chews, “So, do we know who’s going to jail yet?”

  “Maybe all three, but hopefully just one…for a very long time.”

  She had my attention. I gave her a hand signal to continue.

  “Billy admitted a whole lot in there.”

  “Like?”

  “His marriage to Rosie was essentially another business setup.”

  “To benefit his sister?”

  “Yep, but their plans were far more sinister than selling porn. They’d tried a few scams that didn’t work. Then, Billy, through his work at the lab, learned that Earl had cancer and would die in the near future.”

  “Wait — how did he know the sample of blood he was testing belonged to Earl?”

  “It was all illegal, of course. He hacked his way into a part of the BloodCorp computer system that he normally wouldn’t have access to, which created a trail to the hospital where Earl’s bloodwork had been completed and then to Earl himself. He said it took him a while, but he was careful not to set off any internal IT alarms.”

  “Okay, so Earl’s about to die?”

  “Hold on. Billy and Rosie hatched a plan to get a divorce and then have Rosie accidentally meet Earl. From there, it all went as planned—convince Earl that she was the real deal, a so-called damsel in distress, and then get married.”

  “Damn. A multi-year conspiracy,” I said, tossing another pretzel in my mouth.

  “They knew that once Earl died, Rosie would get everything, and then she and Billy would split it. He’d get his money for his Lyme crusade, and Rosie would be a rich woman. A win-win for the two losers. Rosie was apparently very confident in her powers of persuasion.”

  Did she just arch her eyebrow at me? “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  She spread her arms. “Like what?”

  “Forget it. Keep going.”

  “Apparently, Earl was a real asshole.”

  “So that part of the story is true. Shocking,” I said with a high degree of sarcasm. “What about Billy’s abuse of Rosie. Truth or fiction?”

  She tilted her head. “Depends on who you ask. Rosie claims it was mostly true, while Billy says he never intentionally meant to hurt her feelings. They both knew they shared a common goal.”

  “Both wanted money.”

  She nodded. “Then things changed.”

  “With who?”

  “Whom,” she said.

  “Whatever,” I said, rolling my hand for her to get on with it.

  “Here recently, as Earl’s health remained stable, Billy felt compelled to do some additional research.”

  “More hacking.”

  “Yep. And that’s when he found out that he’d screwed up. The blood he’d originally tested was not Earl’s.”

  “Oops.”

  “So, that drastically changed things. Billy said that Deborah’s online business was doing so well he no longer needed the inheritance payoff that Rosie would get with Earl’s death. But Rosie wouldn’t let Billy walk away. In fact, she convinced Billy that she’d turn on him, give everything up to the cops and FBI, put everything at his feet unless he killed Earl.”

  I set my feet. “So why did Deborah say Billy killed Benson?”

  She tossed another pretzel in her mouth, held up a finger. I waited on her. Then, she said, “She wanted Rosie to be right.”

  “Huh?”

  “She wants custody of her son. That’s what matters most…well, that and money.”

  “They kind of all have that in common, don’t they?” I scoffed.

  “But Billy’s cause wasn’t based on greed.”

  “Very true. But he killed Benson? I don’t get it.”

  “He claimed that he went to that parking lot to kill Earl. He even admitted to owning that cowboy hat with the purple ribbon. But he didn’t do it, he says.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, don’t hear that one too often, do we?”

  “True, but he actually could be telling the truth. He told us about his gun, which is a forty-caliber. Said we could test it to see if it’s been fired recently. So our team grabbed his gun, and they don’t believe it’s been fired any time in the last several weeks. For right now, we believe he’s telling the truth.”

  “Wait—what kind of bullet killed Benson?”

  “Nine-millimeter-caliber.”

  “So they didn’t even match.”

  “Mm-hm,” she said through a mouthful of pretzels, nodding.

  “So, why are you so happy? Why is Porter happy? Why?”

  “Because Rosie admitted to hiring Snake to kill Earl. But the dumb ass had been drinking, and when Benson stepped in front of Earl, Snake killed the wrong guy. And that was the same gun that Rosie used on Summer and then later on Snake himself.”

  “Takes a killer to know a killer, I suppose.”

  “Good one.”

  “So who was it that picked up Rosie by the Honda Pilot?”

  “Snake. She had him wrapped around her finger…” She stopped and squeezed her lips shut.

  “Too. You were going to say ‘too,’ weren’t you?”

  “It’s not personal, Oz. Anyway, he was working for both Earl and Rosie, but Earl apparently had no idea.”

  A second later, two doors opened. Out walked Billy and Deborah. They didn’t speak, but Billy looked in our direction. He unrolled his sleeves and gave me a slight nod. I returned it. “I would have never thought that Billy would be the good guy, so to speak,” I said to Brook.

  Billy and Deborah walked into an open elevator, and the doors shut.

  The third interrogation room door opened. Rosie, in an orange jumpsuit and shackles, walked out. She saw me through the maze of cubes. “I love you, Ozzie Novak. I always will.”

  I handed Brook my bag of pretzels. I’d lost my appetite. Time to go.

  43

  Five stacks down, two to go. I watched Mackenzie wheel the empty dolly around the guys in the shop and into the office. We’d spent the last three hours cleaning out Ray’s former pigsty. I’d spent most of my time removing the heaping mounds of magazines, notepads, and loose papers. Those went straight to the dumpster, all while Steve stood there and clapped.

  Mackenzie was in charge of the actual interior design. We bought some cheap frames at Target, and she proceeded to hang no fewer than seven of her paintings and sketches on the wall. In addition—and she said this would make it a fun place for her to visit—she dusted off the old plastic blinds, and then wrapped them in Christmas lights.

  I asked her to stand next to the blinking red and green lights and give me a goofy smile. She obliged, even while she had a sucker in her mouth—courtesy of Steve’s candy jar. I snapped the photo.

  “How was that?” she asked, a hand on my shoulder to get a glimpse of the picture.

  “Perfect,” I said. We both laughed. I sent the photo in a text to Tito. “He’ll love it. Might give him some inspiration for a new Christmas painting.”

  I turned and looked at the two remaining mounds of crap and blew out a tired breath.

  Mackenzie slapped me on the back. “Come on, Dad, we’re almost there. You can do it. I got faith in you.”


  “Thanks.”

  She agreed to clean out the filing cabinet while I loaded the larger of the two stacks onto the dolly. I wheeled around the corner, walked through one of the two open garage bay doors, and unloaded the mess into the dumpster.

  My phone buzzed, and I picked it up as I pulled the dolly behind me.

  “What’s up, Red?” I asked Brook.

  “That’s original. I’ve only had about a hundred other people call me that.”

  “I hear you. I’m trying to think of some nickname for you.”

  “Brook will do, thank you.”

  I’d have to think of something. “So, Mackenzie and I are finishing up the greatest project since the Hoover Dam.”

  “Finally cleaning out that pigsty?”

  “We’re almost done. And Mackenzie has added some extra flare with her eye for design.”

  I wheeled into the garage and then made my way back into the office. Mackenzie was digging through one of the cabinet drawers. “So, do you have more information for me on the investigation?”

  “Not really. The DA isn’t sure how he’s going to handle Billy. He’s considering striking a deal that would allow him to get probation.”

  “That would be cool, not just for his son but also his sister.”

  “Apparently, she’s feeling good enough to leave the Northeast and move down to Austin.”

  “And what about Deborah?”

  “I’m sure she’ll avoid any hard time.”

  “Was that a Freudian slip, Brook?”

  She laughed, and so did I.

  Mackenzie flipped her head around. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing, sweet pea. Adult stuff. What are you doing in that drawer?”

  She said something, but Brook started talking again. “The reason I’m calling is to let you know that you might be getting a call.”

  “That’s cryptic. From who?”

  “From whom. Captain Porter.”

  “What did I do now?”

  “We’re understaffed, and right now, our city council is in a stalemate on a new budget. They’ll approve hiring contractors but not new staff. So, the captain said he’ll have to look into hiring outside help.”

  “Me working as a cop? Hmm.” I scratched my chin, which badly needed a shave.

  Just then, Steve walked up to the door.

  “Got a minute?” he asked.

  I pointed at the phone.

  “Need some help looking over some legal document from the city,” he said.

  Apparently, he didn’t understand what pointing at the phone meant.

  Brook continued. “So, Ozzie, you wouldn’t be a cop. You’d be more of a consultant, working alongside a detective.”

  “Anyone in mind?”

  “Funny. Maybe me, maybe someone else. If you’re real lucky, maybe you’ll work a case with Porter.” She giggled.

  “And maybe I’ll say no.” I glanced at Mackenzie, who was still busy in the drawer.

  “Ah, come on. You can’t leave me hanging.”

  I knew I could use the money. “Okay. Maybe.”

  “Love the commitment.”

  “I love your dry wit,” I retorted.

  Just then someone appeared at the doorway to my office next to Steve.

  “I gotta go,” I said to Brook.

  I ended the call and simply stared at the woman. My heart felt like it might leap out of my throat.

  “Who’s that, Dad?” Mackenzie asked, walking up and leaning against my hip.

  “Sweet pea, this is Nicole, my wife.”

  44

  Dressed in a pair of flat-front green chinos and a white T-shirt, with a red pullover wrapped around her waist, Nicole bent over and put her hands on her knees.

  “And you must be Mackenzie. I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

  Mackenzie glanced at me, and I nodded. After only a slight hesitation, she stuck out her hand. They shook, and then Nicole put her arm around her and glanced around the office. She gestured at the Christmas lights and the pictures on the wall. “Something tells me this is your work. Am I right?”

  “Yep.” Mackenzie rocked to the back of her feet, acting a little shy.

  Nicole lifted to a standing position and whispered, “She looks just like you.” Before I could respond, she walked to the wall and examined one of Mackenzie’s sketches. “You’re an amazing artist, Mackenzie.”

  Nicole flipped her head around, dropping a dangling curl into her eyes. Her hair was up in a messy bun. Her face was illuminated by the blinking Christmas lights, but her syrupy eyes drew me in like a beacon in deep fog.

  “I can paint you one, if you want,” Mackenzie said.

  “That would be really cool.” Nicole seemed like a natural with kids. Well, with my kid. And it only warmed my heart that much more.

  Nicole touched one of her hoop earrings, giving me another look.

  “Hey, Mackenzie,” Steve said, holding out his hand. “Why don’t we go see if we can find you another piece of candy?”

  Mackenzie shifted her eyes to me, her cheeks full from her smile.

  “It’s a weekend, sweet pea. Go ahead.”

  “Cool.”

  I mouthed thank you to Steve as he walked her out.

  “She’s an angel, Oz,” Nicole said, giving me a straight smile. She took in a breath and exhaled.

  We looked into each other’s eyes for what seemed like a full minute. I could feel my body start to lean inward. Part of me wanted to take her in my arms, hold her like there was no tomorrow, and tell her we’d work it all out.

  “I came by to tell you something,” she said.

  That stopped my leaning. I found the edge of the desk and propped my butt against it. “What’s going on?”

  Another deep breath. She opened her lips and then closed them. She averted her eyes and stared at the blinking lights for a few seconds. Finally, as if she were fortified with a surge of courage, she turned and spoke to me.

  “We had the best thing going in the world.”

  Unsure if she wanted a response—unsure if I wanted to offer one—I simply nodded.

  “And then I messed it up. Big time.”

  I wanted to say something, but instead I just waited.

  “Once that downward spiral started, it was really tough for me to figure out what reality was. You know what I mean?” Her voice cracked a bit.

  I nodded.

  “It took something drastic for me to realize how big of a mistake I’d made. But when I did, I told you how sorry I was. And I still mean it. In fact, the guilt still has a grip on me.” She sighed, looked off again.

  I couldn’t help but reach out and grip her arm. She put her hand on mine and patted it. I let go.

  “When we made love in that hotel room, I…” She brought a hand to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. “It was magic. The pain and guilt had, for the moment, been lifted.”

  “I felt the same way.”

  She looked around the office. “And then I found you and that woman in here.”

  “I hope you know that we didn’t—”

  “I believe you. You crossed the line, though.”

  I opened my mouth, but she held a finger to my lips. “Ozzie, I started this crazy roller-coaster ride. I shouldn’t have been surprised that you wanted to take a ride of your own, to maybe, deep down inside, get back at me.”

  “I’m sorry, Nicole.” I put my hand over my heart. “I never meant to hurt you. I was confused and…I don’t know…”

  “I get it. No need to explain.”

  A moment of silence.

  This time I broke it. “So where do we go from here? Maybe start talking on a more regular basis. See a counselor. Maybe you could hang out with me and Mackenzie a bit.” I was a little surprised I’d taken it that far, but I could feel her pulling away.

  “Oh, how I want all of that and more,” she said, grabbing me by the arms. “I actually came by to tell you that I took a leave of absence from my job.”
/>   I held my breath, waiting for words I didn’t want to hear.

  “I’m going on a trip.”

  “To where?”

  She shrugged and forced out a smile. “I don’t know yet. I have my passport. I could be gone a while.”

  I nodded. “So, it’s like college all over again.”

  “A little, yeah. I know I need to grow up, Oz. I need to think and feel and figure out what’s important to me. I need to heal, and I need to forgive. Does that make sense?”

  “More than it did back in college.”

  I took her in my arms, and we hugged for a long time, the lights blinking around us. As we pulled apart, a tear rolled down her cheek. I wiped it away for her and handed her a tissue.

  “I would ask how long you’ll be gone, but you probably don’t know that answer.”

  “You know me so well.”

  “I know when you need some freedom, Nicole. I respect that.” I paused. “I’ll miss you.”

  She leaned into my body, resting her hand on the side of my cheek, and kissed me. That familiar electric current zipped through my veins. I walked her to the garage door. “Please, Ozzie, if you meet another woman who you feel…you know, is the one, don’t let that stop you.” She pointed at the ring on my finger. That was when I realized she was wearing her rings. It didn’t make sense, but there was something about love that never made much sense.

  I wanted to tell her that she would always have my heart. In fact, my lips parted, but the words didn’t come out. Maybe I needed this break as much as she did, to allow myself the opportunity to think clearly, to try to envision what kind of future I wanted for Mackenzie and I. Maybe I’d been fooling myself about what we had and my one-and-only was still out there. Who knew? But the forced timeout might be just the medicine I needed to heal and forgive, and to forge my own path.

  She moved closer, gave me a soft kiss, and then walked to her car. She waved as she got in.

  After she had driven away, Mackenzie plowed into me, telling me some story that Steve had told her about his stuffed cat.

  “Can we get a cat, Dad?”

  She pulled me back to the office. “Like Hermit, or a real one?” I asked with a coy smile.

 

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