The Witness Series Bundle

by Rebecca Forster

  It was done.

  2013

  Morning found Mike Montoya and Wendy Sterling behind the gates in Rolling Hills and parked in Kat Oi's driveway. Wendy eyed the house while Mike fielded a call from Archer. When he was done, he said:

  "Josie Bates' investigator is bringing in the guy who was with Billy."

  "Great," she mumbled.

  Mike slid his eyes her way. "Don't you want to know what his story is?"

  "Sure. What's his story?" Wendy fidgeted with her seat belt, reached down to pick up her purse, lowered the visor, and looked in the mirror. Still she didn't look at him. Mike reached over and flipped the visor back up. "It was fine you came last night. I needed to see that DVD."

  "It could have waited until this morning. I had no right to intrude." Wendy spoke as if she was exhausted by the conversation before it took place, but it hadn't and she wanted to get it over with. "I'm sorry about your wife. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. I feel like a fool."

  She turned on him. Shame and anger sparked in her eyes.

  "Am I the only one who didn't know? Was everyone laughing at me and the way I was carrying on with you?"

  "No. Nobody else knows. Or if they do, they don't say anything about it. And nobody was laughing at you. I don't think there's a man in the place who wouldn't be flattered by your attention."

  "You weren't," Wendy pointed out.

  "Yes, I was. I just didn't know how to respond."

  "You could have said that your wife was damn sick, and you didn't have an ounce of energy for games, and that I was being slutty."

  "But you weren't, so let's forget it. We've got work to do."

  "Yeah. Okay. Forget it." Wendy pushed her door but didn't get out. There was something she needed to know. "How bad is it? I mean, how long?"

  "God knows and maybe Kay. Neither of them are saying." Mike put away the phone and checked his inside pocket for his paperwork. He opened his door but before he got out of the car, he said: "I bought her a necklace for our anniversary. She loved it. Thank you."

  Wendy swallowed the lump in her throat and got out, too. They met in the middle of the wide driveway. When they reached the porch, Mike pressed the bell. Kat Oi opened the door and scowled at the pair. Mike handed her the warrant.

  "It's duly executed, Ms. Oi."

  Beneath her expert make-up, her face was pinched and pale. The last few days had taken their toll, and Mike was not without sympathy.

  "Who's she?" Kat Oi glared at Wendy.

  "I'm Wendy Sterling, Detective Montoya's criminal analyst. I'm assigned to your husband's case."

  "Did you bring her along 'cause you're going to have to frisk me or something?" Kat demanded.

  "No, Mrs. Oi. We're here to search the premises."

  "For what? What are you looking for?" She threw out her hip and planted one hand on it as if her posturing was enough to keep them out of her house.

  "We can refer you to the warrant," Wendy answered, but still Kat Oi didn't take the paper. Wendy stepped forward. Kat dropped her hand and side-stepped to block her.

  "You can both wait outside until I get my attorney over here. I'm not just going to let you tear up my house without someone here to make sure that I'm getting a square deal." Kat put her hand on the door to close it. Mike put his hand on the other side and the door remained open.

  "It would be wise to call your attorney, but we don't have to wait for your lawyer, Mrs. Oi."

  Mike inclined his head toward Wendy. She took her cue and pushed politely past Kat.

  "Detective Montoya tells me you have a young woman in your employee and another girl in the house who is not related to you." Wendy slowly pirouetted, taking note of everything there was to see. Finally, she smiled at Kat. "If you could tell them we're here, we'd appreciate it."

  "Nobody's here but me." Kat shot her a withering look.

  "When do you expect them back?" Mike herded Kat away and shut the door.

  "I don't." Kat crossed her arms and rubbed them through her pretty blouse. "They're gone. They were my husband's relatives."

  "He has a lot of relatives," Mike noted.

  "And if he were here he wouldn't put up with this bull. I don't have to tell you what goes on in my house. You can look all you want. You can do what you have to do, but you better hurry because when my lawyer gets here he's going to kick some ass. I'm a widow. My husband was murdered. You can't push me around, and you can't say I had anything to do with his murder. I have an alibi."

  She stormed toward the living room, muttering, railing, and flailing her arms. Mike winced when she wobbled on her very high heels.

  "Well, if she just isn't a piece of work," Wendy muttered, and then smiled. "Shall we?"

  From the living room they could hear Kat Oi's voice rising to a shriek. Mike was happy he had not become a lawyer as his mother wanted. Even five hundred dollars couldn't buy an hour of his time to be at Kat Oi's beck and call.

  "Good hunting," Mike said.

  They went their separate ways. Wendy to a physical search and Mike to Kat Oi who was in the living room.

  "Red Riding Hood better not mess anything up," Kat said when he joined her.

  "She's very conscientious and careful," Mike assured her.

  "Maybe you should help her. It would make things go faster. That way you'd see there's nothing for you to find out here."

  "I'm sure she'll be good on her own. Do you mind if we sit down?"

  Kat tossed the phone onto a table cut from a huge burl. She crossed her arms then uncrossed them. "I don't have to answer your questions. I know that. Even if you read me my rights, I don't have to answer anything. I could take the fifth."

  Mike unbuttoned his jacket and tugged at the knees on his pants as he sat down. He wished people wouldn't watch so much television.

  "Mrs. Oi. We aren't here to accuse you of anything. We're looking for any information or physical evidence that might point us to the person who killed your husband. You want that, don't you?"

  "Yes," she pouted.

  "And you would rather I talk to you here and not at my office, is that correct?"

  "Yes," she grumbled.

  "Good."

  "Fine. Okay. Don't expect any coffee or anything," she complained.

  "I already had mine, thanks," Mike said.

  "Oh, now you're a comedian." She plopped herself on the zebra sofa.

  "I want to ask you about Rosafa Zogaj." Mike opened a small envelope he had been holding, took out three photographs and laid them on the table in front of Kat Oi. Her lashes lowered. She looked at them. She thought about them.

  "We know she lived in this house. We know her brother was with her," Mike stated.

  Finally, Kat picked up the photograph of Rosa Zuni. A shadow passed over her face, and then she tossed the photo back on the table.

  "I can't believe she's alive."

  "You know who she is, don't you, Mrs. Oi?"

  "I didn't know her name until Fred showed me that marriage license. I couldn't make heads or tails out of it. I don't think he could either, but I knew it had to be her." She sighed miserably as she crossed and uncrossed her legs. "I don't know what made her so special."

  "How long have you been aware of her?"

  "A year maybe a little less. I followed Greg to that club she works at. I saw them together, but it didn't seem like she wanted him around. So I figured it was some kind of obsession thing for him. When you showed me the picture of her all cut up, the first thing I thought was that Greg did that to her. I thought maybe he went nuts or something because she didn't like him. Then I realized it couldn't have been him. He's dead, too."

  "Did you ask him about her?"

  "Once," she admitted.

  "And?"

  "And he. . ." Kat hugged herself. She looked out the window. Mike looked at her. Her chin trembled. She confessed: "He cried."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Her hea
d snapped back. "He cried, dammit. He went on and on about trying to do the right thing and honor and family. I think he loved that girl. I didn't know what their relationship was. I don't know anything about it, but it meant a lot to Greg."

  "Did you know about the boy?" Mike nudged Billy's photograph across the table. She glanced at it.

  "I never saw him before. Fred thinks Greg had a kid, so it might be him." Kat took a deep breath and for the first time spoke the truth. "This hasn't been the best week of my life. No matter what he did, or who that woman was, it doesn't matter. I was happy with Greg. I always thought he was happy with me."

  "Mrs. Oi, is it possible your husband was involved in human trafficking?" Mike asked.

  "Who said that? Who?" Kat shot straight up and pointed her finger at Mike. "You tell me because I'll knock their block off. Greg helped people. Young people who needed jobs and couldn't scratch out a living in Albania. And those girls were happy to be here. They could come here and work, or stay there and get married when they were twelve. You should see those places those girls came from. He was doing a good thing bringing them over here."

  "Did you ever see him hurt any of them?"

  She slumped back again, "No. I never did."

  "Did he ever hurt you?"

  "He slapped me once or twice," Kat admitted. "But it wasn't like he beat me."

  "The two women who were here a few days ago, were they part of his charitable efforts?"

  "Yeah." She mumbled. When Mike didn't respond, when it was clear he expected more, Kat gave him what she had. She was tired and wanted someone to talk to. "Maybe I was dumb. I just accepted these girls coming and going. I didn't ask. It wasn't my business. They arrived. They lived here for a while, learned the language, and they went to work somewhere. All except Era. She lived here all the time."

  "How long was she here?" Mike asked.

  "Two years about."

  "So she's not a maid?" he confirmed.

  "No. She helped out the new girls the foundation brought over. They can't get a job if they don't speak English or know the basics about America. That makes sense, right? Greg paid their expenses, but some of the guys in his association helped get them jobs. All the Albanians helped."

  "Do you know a man who goes by the name of Gjergy Isai?"

  Kat shook her head. "No. Never heard of him, but it sounds like one of those guys from the old country."

  "The man who came to your door the night before your husband died. The one who came with Sam Lumina? Can you describe him again?"

  She bit the corner of her bottom lip. "Old, big. Greg was big and so was this guy. They kind of looked alike. Like bears. This one had short grey hair. Buzz cut. I only saw him for a minute maybe."

  Mike nodded. The lady of the house had not been introduced to Gjergy Isai. At least now Mike had corroboration that Isai, Oi, and Lumina were connected as he and Wendy thought.

  "Let's talk about Rosa again."

  "Look, there's no explaining Greg. I went back with him once to the place he came from. It was harsh. I mean really, really harsh. People wore the same clothes everyday because that's all they had. There was no work. There were no rules, no regulations. Every house had a steel door. Do you want to know why?"

  Mike's silence gave her permission to go on.

  "Because a bunch of years ago people from one village came in and shot up the village Greg came from. They killed a whole bunch of people over God knew what. Now every apartment has a steel door, every person – even the kids – have guns and weapons. We went to one of his relative's houses and they had a whole room with nothing but guns. I saw little kids coming out of school playing with brass knuckles. What kind of people let kids have that kind of stuff? What kind of people shoot each other up for no reason?"

  The eyes that looked at Mike Montoya were big and round and, for the first time, honest. She turned away and gazed out the French doors, seeming to look beyond her beautiful yard, the pool, and the tennis court. She was seeing a village overseas in a place that she couldn't even imagine existed until Greg Oi took her there.

  "It made me sick, and I felt selfish. I couldn't even guess at how it affected Greg. Men from there are so different. There were secrets in that country and they weren't good. I could never understand even if I spoke their language. I was happy to come back here. Greg? He never left it behind. He thought he was the Godfather. He had a big heart and he brought young people to America so they could make a better life." She turned her eyes back to Mike. "That's what he did, didn't he? They did have a better life, right?"

  Mike didn't want to point out that Rosa's could have been better.

  "What do you think happened to your husband?"

  Kat blinked. A tear rolled out of one eye. She wasn't tough. She wasn't even a bitch. She was scared and the big man who had stood between her and the world was gone.

  "I don't know," she whispered. "And I don't want to know about these girls. If they ended up dancing in some strip joint, then Greg still did a good thing. It was better than where they'd been. I believe that. I know that."

  Kat Oi ran out of steam. She collapsed on the sofa, and put her hands on her knees. Her head hung low, her jewelry sparkled in the light coming through the windows. When she sat up, her face had changed. She pushed herself up, and went into the next room. She came back with a picture.

  "I found this when I was going through his things." She handed the picture to Mike. "I found a picture of Greg standing outside of a farmhouse, and I found that. That's a picture of the old man who came here with Sam Lumina that night. I'd swear it. I know he's a lot younger, but I'd swear it's him. I think they were friends then."

  Mike kept his eyes lowered. There was no doubt. This was a picture of Gjergy Isai as a much younger man. Greg Oi stood by his side, both looking like poor imitations of superman with their chests thrown out and their fists planted on their hips. Kat was back on the sofa.

  "And the way you found Greg dressed?" Kat went on. "Those were his comfort clothes. When he was upset, he got all dolled up. I guess the fact that he dressed like that with me meant he really trusted me. I thought it meant he loved me. But if he was dressed like a girl in that woman's house, maybe that meant he loved her, too? Do you think that's what it meant? That he loved her, and I was second choice?"

  Mike took the photograph and left Kat to her thoughts. Wendy stood in the doorway. She gave him a nod and held up two plastic bags. He excused himself and went to her.

  "A ledger." She held up the large bag. "Looks like he indentured them for a couple years and then knocked 'em off the books. He got a nice chunk of change up front from the families. The girls end up nannies, housemaids, bar maids that kind of thing. Looks like there are some men who bought off the women's debt. Maybe this was kind of like a mail order bride set-up."

  "Anyone of interest in there?" Mike asked.

  "Actually, there's a name that is missing. Rosa isn't there. But I've got this." She held up the smaller bag. "I found them in a trick drawer in the desk."

  "Wall safes, trick drawers. Oi wasn't a trusting man."

  Wendy held out passports for Rosafa Zogaj and Besnik Zogaj. "If Rosa was emancipated from his little scheme, he was still holding her hostage."

  Wendy opened the bag, retrieved the two documents. She opened the first. Mike looked at a picture of a lovely, childlike Rosa Zuni. Wendy opened the second one and showed him a picture of a little boy, tow headed, bright-eyed boy they knew as Billy Zuni.

  CHAPTER 25

  Sam Lumina's wife thought she was going to throw up. Or faint. Or throw up and then faint which would be the worst. What would have made it totally worse would be that she did it in front of the lady across the desk. She was gorgeous, but she also had a way about her that made Mary feel that everything was going to be okay. It was like she really wanted to help.

  "Are you sure you don't want a cup of coffee or a glass of water?"

  "No. That's okay. Thanks.
"

  Wendy Sterling smiled and waited. And waited while the woman across from her fidgeted and held onto her purse like it was going to explode if she let it go.

  "Look," Mary said, "I don't even know if I'm doing the right thing, but I think I am."

  "Then you probably are. Maybe we could just start at the beginning. Is there something specific that brought you here?"

  "It's the thing that happened in Hermosa. You know, the two guys who died?" Mary whispered.

  "Yes. And the woman," Wendy said.

  "She died, too?"

  "She's critical," Wendy answered. "Did you know her?"

  Mary shook her head," No, I don't know her."

  "Did you know the men?" Wendy asked.

  "I knew Jac Duka. I'm good friends with his wife, Sharon. My boy plays with hers."

  "I'm so sorry," Wendy commiserated.

  "And, well, Mr. Oi. My husband works at Marshall Fasteners, but I don't know him personally. I mean I didn't know him. I never spoke to him, that is." The woman fidgeted. That was a good sign. Wendy could work with nervous; belligerent was a different matter.

  "Okay." Wendy smiled her woman smile, which was quite different from the klieg light smile she used on men sitting across the desk from her.

  "So would you like to talk about Jak Duka? I mean, since you knew him."

  "Oh, God!" she finally broke down. "I don't know what I want to talk about. You see there's this guy who's been staying with us. This old man. He's like really weird, and he's some relative of my husband's, and I think he had something to do with all this. No, I know he did. He is so scary, and he hated Greg Oi. I heard him talking about him."

  "What exactly did he say?" Wendy leaned closer, lowering her voice, signaling she was ready for any confidence this woman had to share. If she decided to play hardball, Wendy would deal with that later.

  "Well, I don't really know. I just know I would hear him talking about Mr. Oi. It was the way he talked about him. He didn't speak English when he was talking about him, so I don't know exactly what he was saying but believe me, it wasn't good."