Kill Shot (19 page)
She made the familiar trek, noting little change in the neighborhood. The Fletchers had painted the trim on their house and the Morettis had a new fence. But it was basically unchanged since her childhood. She and Oz had been raised with the same set of values. Family came first. Husbands worked hard and supported their relatives. Wives bore children and kept house. That’s the way it was meant to be.
Micki’s stomach knotted up when she caught sight of her mother waiting for her on the glassed-in front porch with all the jalousie slats wide open. A nice breeze was blowing so it wasn’t too hot.
“Hi Mom,” she called as she climbed the steps.
Her mother sat tight-lipped on the glider with a pitcher of lemonade and a plate of home made cookies atop an old trunk. “I’m glad I didn’t have to hear from someone else that you and Oz are back together.”
“I wanted to tell you first.” She plopped down beside her mother.
“Let me look at you.” Micki’s mother swept her hair back away from her face. “You look tired.”
“I’ve had a busy week.”
“How’s Oz? I prayed you’d get back with him. He’s a nice boy and he loves you so much.”
“I know Mom. Oz is the best.” Micki cringed at the sarcastic edge to her own voice.
Her mother shrugged and her voice became whiny. “Why you broke up with him, I’ll never understand.”
“I know, Mom. I could be married now with a child on the way. You tell me that every time I come home.”
“Well, it’s true.”
“Maybe that’s why I don’t come home. Maybe I’m tired of being told what could have been.” Micki and her mother faced each other with similar glares. Her mother glanced away, her eyes welling with tears. “No, Mom! Do not cry, or I’m leaving.”
“I’m not crying,” she said. “Something got in my eye.”
Micki figured she was out of the will so she’d better make nice. She reached for a cookie. “Did you make these?”
“Of course I made them. They’re your favorites. When I heard that Oz brought you to his house, I baked you your favorite.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Micki took a bite, tasting the butter and grated lemon zest that made them so addictive.
Her mother laced and unlaced her fingers together in her lap. “Are you and Oz making any plans that I should know about?”
“No, Mom. We’re planning on being together and trying to be happy.”
“What’s not to be happy about? Oz is so handsome and he takes such good care of you.”
“Mom, I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”
“But it’s lonely out there. You need a man in your life.” Her voice took on a plaintive tone.
“It’s not the same for me. You and Dad got married right out of high school.”
“And we were happily married until the day he died.” Her mother folded her arms over her chest and gave Micki a look that said she’d gone too far. One didn’t criticize the holy sacrament of matrimony.
Micki ate cookies and drank lemonade. She stayed long enough to appease her mother and then slowly walked back to the Osmond house, wondering what would have happened if she’d accepted Oz’ proposal when he’d first asked her.
#
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Oz almost felt sorry for Lissa Montgomery. Her eyes widened when she opened the door and a whimper of fear gurgled from her throat. She glanced back over her shoulder as Laurel Jobe swept into the room.
“Officer Osmond, do come in.” Laurel wore a pair of shorts and a knit tank top that clung to her curves. Sinking onto a sofa, she gestured for Oz to join her.
He weighed the questions he wanted to ask each woman and decided he’d rather brace the big guns, so to speak. “Mrs. Jobe, I wanted you to know how much I appreciate your candor in answering my questions. I just had a few more if you don’t mind.” He took a seat opposite her.
“Happy to oblige, Officer,” she said. “Lissa, bring some refreshments.”
Lissa bit her lip and fled the room.
“She’s very good with Trey, but totally useless otherwise.” Her voice dropped in timbre. “No common sense.”
“I see.” Oz leaned toward her. “Tell me, Mrs. Jobe, Is Mr. Jobe still in Canada?”
She blinked and straightened her posture. “No, why do you ask?”
“I was just checking on his whereabouts. You said that he didn’t mind your extra-marital relationships as long as you were discreet. Is that right?”
She cleared her throat and glanced around. “That’s right, but not so loud. He’s in the study.”
“Did your husband know about your relationship with Randal Knox?”
“Not specifically. Discretion, you know.”
“How about Jason Best? Does he know about you and Jason?”
Laurel cleared her throat again. “Yes, he knows.”
“How did he find out, if you don’t mind my asking?” Oz tilted his head and smiled. “I mean, if you were discreet, how did he find out?”
“Jason was careless. He’s madly in love with me.” She smiled, more to herself than Oz. “Silly boy.”
“But Mr. Jobe isn’t the jealous type?”
“Exactly. He has his relationships and I have mine.”
“And the two of you have a relationship together?”
“Of course,” she said. “We have a child and the arts and charity work and...”
“I see,” he said, though he didn’t.
Lissa pushed a cart into the room. It contained a small bar set up with alcohol, soft drinks and bottled water.
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble,” he said.
She gave him a look that spoke volumes about the trouble she was expected to go to. “What will you have, sir?”
He pointed to the bottles she’d put on ice. “Water,” he said. “I’m on duty.”
Lissa handed him a bottle of water and looked at Laurel. “Will that be all, Mrs. Jobe?”
Laurel dismissed her with a nod. “Now, where were we?”
Oz watched her responses closely. “You were telling me about all the things you and Mr. Jobe do together.”
“Ah, yes. We chair several charity events together and we travel a lot.”
“Does Lissa stay behind with the baby when you travel?”
“Not often. We usually take little Trey with us.”
“And Lissa, too.”
“Of course.” A laugh tripped out of her mouth as though caring for one’s own child was unheard of.
“My dear?”
Oz turned to see a man he immediately recognized as Hobart Jobe standing in the archway. He stood up. The man’s presence demanded that.
“Who have we here?” He smiled at Oz, moving slowly but with a certain grace. His voice was like velvet, deep and rich.
Oz introduced himself and produced his credentials.
“One of New York City’s finest,” Jobe said. “To what do we owe this honor?” He was a tall, slender man with a receding hairline and once auburn hair. He extended his manicured hand.
“It is I who am honored to meet you, sir.” Oz shook the proffered hand, noting that it was limp. “A friend of one of your employees was killed.”
“Our employee?” he looked at his wife questioningly.
“Lissa’s boyfriend was drowned in the park,” she said.
“Oh, my. How did it happen?” Jobe sat beside his wife, his arm circling the back of the sofa, but not touching her. “Was he swimming?” He gestured for Oz to return to his seat.
“He was bludgeoned to death and dumped in the lake.”
“Oh!” Laurel sat up straight. “I thought it was an accident.”
“Who was Lissa’s boyfriend?” Jobe turned to Laurel. “Was he anybody we know?”
Oz nodded. “Actually, sir, you might know him. Randal Knox was employed by the Golden Coast Spa.”
Hobart frowned and shook his head. “I don’t think we know him, do we?”
“He was your wife’s personal trainer at one time.” Oz watched the couple interact without words. Jobe was aware of the relationship Laurel had with her personal trainers. His open expression became veiled as he attempted to assess whether Oz was aware of it. “I can’t place him, at the moment.” His countenance remained warily blank.
“No matter, sir,” Oz said. “Mrs. Jobe was just telling me about the last time she saw the deceased.”
Laurel gave him a thinly disguised glare. “Well, let me see. I can’t recall exactly. It must have been sometime last week. I saw him in passing when I was on the way out.”
“That’s all the questions for now. I have to follow up with Miss Montgomery on a couple of things.” Oz stood and offered his hand once more to Mr. Jobe, then followed in the direction Lissa had gone, locating her in the kitchen. She was slouched on a bar stool pulled up to the granite counter top.
“You do more than just take of little Hobart Jobe the third, don’t you?” he asked.
“Not if you look at my job description,” she said, a sarcastic edge to her voice.
“Can you think of anyone with a reason to want Randal dead? Did he have any enemies that you know of?”
“Randy could be a completely egotistical ass. None of the other spa employees liked him. He was arrogant and he let everyone know that he thought he was better than they were.” She leaned her head on her arms. “But I can’t think of anyone who would go so far as to kill him.”
“How about you? When he tried to choke you, weren’t you angry?”
She raised her head, staring at Oz round-eyed. She shook her head emphatically. “No, I was scared. I was at home with my dad when it happened. I’d gone out with Randy to grab a bite and when he took me home, I said the wrong thing and he just went off on me.” Her lower lip quivered.
“Do you remember what you said that set him off?”
“Not exactly,” she said. “I mentioned that Mrs. Jobe and Jason spent a lot of time together and that she bought him things and he went crazy.”
“Then what happened?”
“My dad ran out and told Randy that he’d called the cops and that he’d better never lay a hand on me again.” She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a paper towel. “Randy just laughed, but he left and then my dad made me file a complaint.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“It was last week at the spa. You should ask Jason. He was there.”
#
Micki was waiting on the porch when Oz pulled into the driveway. He’d called to tell her he was on his way. She was still troubled over the meeting with her mother earlier. She was irritated with Oz for making her stay with his parents. She glowered her displeasure.
Oz grinned, softening her resolve to stay angry. He lowered the window. “Want to go for a ride?”
She bounded down the steps and slid in beside him. “I’m so going to kill you Oz. If you think I can stay here while both our moms make me crazy, you are sadly misinformed.”
“Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”
Micki did a full eye roll at him. “Where are we going?”
“To the park. Aren’t you going to ask why?”
“Why?” She tried to quell the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“I’m going to take you for a boat ride.” He reached over to wrap his fingers around the back of her neck and tickle her. When she squirmed, his hand roamed over her breasts. “Oh, what have we got here? Concealed weapons?”
“Stop,” she said. “I’m mad at you.”
“There’s some good stuff here.” Ignoring her protests, he slipped his fingers under her shirt.
“Stop. My boyfriend is a cop. He doesn’t like it when I let strange men feel me up.”
“Sounds like a stellar guy.” Oz grinned at her.
“He’s big and mean and very ugly.”
“Ugly?”
“He’s so ugly he could freeze you with a single glance so you better keep your paws to yourself, Buster.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Micki caught his hand as he withdrew it and laced her fingers with his. Oz pressed his lips against her hand. The look he gave her clutched at her heart.
She slid closer, lifting her face for a kiss and was promptly rewarded. His mouth on hers brought a rush of lust roiling up from her nether regions. She pushed back and slid to her side of the car. “You better put this car in reverse because I’m sure your mom and Candy are watching us from the windows.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said. “I could have your shirt off with one hand.”
“Go now,” she ordered. “And tell me what’s crawled under your skin since this morning.”
Oz shot her a sidelong glance. He started the car and drove to the corner. “Earlier today I spent time with a married couple who think they have it all, but the wife claims they have an open marriage. I just couldn’t imagine being okay with you and...and...” He turned the wheel and headed for the park.
