Kill Shot (23 page)
“We wanted to extend to him the same courtesy as we did to you. He has an opportunity to act as a good citizen by coming forth with any information he might possess relevant to the murder of Randal Knox.”
“That’s it?” She looked incredulous. Qualls offered her a chair in an empty office where she sat with her arms crossed across her chest.
“Now what?” Oz asked.
“We wait until the attorney arrives. We can’t question Jobe without him present, so we wait.”
It took Marshall Keanes two hours to arrive at the police station and by that time Hobart Jobe had wilted completely. His face sagged and he looked like a man who had given up all hope.
Laurel Jobe paced for a while, but the stiletto sandals she wore did not lend themselves to pacing for long periods of time, so she went back to sitting.
By the time Keanes had talked to his client and advised him not to speak, there was little information to be gained and Qualls allowed Laurel and Keanes to usher Hobart to the waiting limousine.
“That was a wasted effort,” Qualls said.
“You never know, Oz said. “You might have shaken them up a little.”
“I’m sure I’ll be hearing about it tomorrow,” Qualls said. “Go home, Oz. See your pretty little girlfriend.”
“Yes, sir.” Oz grinned, and headed home to his fiancée.
#
Since the attack on Oz by Luka, Micki had been a little more aware of Oz’ physical well-being. When he was late, she acknowledged a knot of fear in her stomach that released only when she saw his face.
She’d prepared dinner and sat sipping a glass of white wine.
My wifely duties
. She grimaced and slugged down the rest of the wine.
Oz unlocked the door and she placed the glass on the coffee table. Micki glanced at the ring on her hand before being folded into his embrace.
“Glad you’re home.” She murmured against his shoulder.
“Glad to be wherever you are.” He gave her a squeeze. “Something smells good.” He lifted his head. “You cooked?”
“I can cook,” she said. “You know that my mother wouldn’t claim me unless she’d ensured that I could feed you properly.”
“Let me wash up,” he said. “I feel gritty.”
Micki lit the candle she’d placed on the coffee table and ladled food onto two plates. “Relax, Oz. You look tired.”
“Hard day,” he said. “How was yours?”
“Pretty good, actually. I looked at some computers to replace the one Luka trashed. And I stepped outside my comfort zone by looking into another possible source of business.”
“You did?” Oz put a forkful of food in his mouth.
“I did,” she said, her eyes alight. “Methodists. There are lots of them out there. They get married and need photographers, too.”
Oz smiled at her and continued to eat.
“And I went back to Gus’ and printed the rest of the proofs on the new memory card. I returned the rented camera and paid for the aluminum case I used to bash Luka with.”
Oz laughed. “You’re going to keep it?”
“Sure. It’s a darned good case.”
“It came in handy,” Oz said. “Since I was taking a nap on the concrete.”
“That was horrible, Oz.” Micki shuddered. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Not me, baby.” He winked at her. “You’ll never lose me.”
Micki looked at him, suddenly solemn. “I didn’t think I’d lose my dad either. I thought he was Superman, but it turned out he was just a human being after all.”
Oz put his fork down. “Sorry, Micki. I didn’t mean to bring up anything that would make you sad.”
She swallowed the lump that had unexpectedly formed in her throat. She gave his arm a stroke. “I’m just aware that you’re not invincible and I don’t want to lose you, so do something for me, Oz.” She fixed him with an intense gaze.
“Anything, Micki,” he said. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
“Be safe. Don’t take reckless chances. I need you in my life.”
Oz pulled her into his lap. “I don’t know what put all this in your head, but I do my job pretty well.”
“I know,” she said. “But don’t be Superman.”
“I’m not Superman,” he said.
“How’s your meal?”
“Super meal,” he pronounced with a grin.
#
Oz spent the next morning sorting through the pile of files he’d gathered from Lloyd’s office. The dog-eared folders contained voluminous amounts of paper and scribbled notes regarding his various employees. There were absentee reports and annual evaluations and doctor’s excuses and even a few injury reports. The collected information concerning the Park Departments maintenance men was generally less than enlightening.
Oz compiled names and ran them all through the system to see if there were any hits. More than one had a rap sheet, but other than the aforementioned Leo, nothing major showed up.
He set the files aside and walked down the hall to the lab where he found Aida peering into a microscope.
“Hey, Aida,” he said. “Anything interesting?”
“Not to normal people,” she said. “However, I find it fascinating.”
“You’re normal, Aida,” he said. When she looked up at him with a puzzled expression, he added, “In a weird sort of way.
She smiled and looked back into the microscope. “I’m looking at hair follicles.” She made a minute adjustment to the setting. “This hair follicle was found in the boat with the blood spill. It may have been there before the body was dumped, but it definitely doesn’t belong to Randal Knox.”
“And how do you know that?” He asked because he knew she liked to be asked.
“Randal’s hair was a nice dark brown and it was loaded with steroids.
This particular hair is lacking pigment and the former owner is taking Vicodin.”
“What do you mean, lacking pigment? Like an albino?”
“Good gracious no.” Aida laughed raucously. “You’ve been seeing way too many movies. I mean lacking pigment as in aging. Loss of original color.”
“I’ve got to go!” Oz ran down the hallway.
#
Lloyd opened his office door to Oz. “Well, come in. I’ve been expecting you.”
Oz sighed and handed him the armload of file folders, his chest heavy with regret. Regret for what he was about to do in the line of duty.
Lloyd dumped the files on his desk.
“Sir, would you step outside?” Oz asked.
“Sure,” the old man said. He indicated a wood bench sitting along side the entrance to the maintenance office. “You mind if I sit down? My arthritis has been acting up lately.”
“No sir. Go ahead.” Oz shifted his weight. “You take something for pain?”
“Vicodin when it gets bad.” Lloyd rubbed his hands together.
In uniform, Vinnie stood a short distance apart, allowing enough space for the two men to talk and yet providing back up if needed.
As if
. Oz snorted in disgust. “I didn’t find your employee file with the others.”
“It’s in the front office. I don’t keep my own file.” He gave Oz a look that told him it was a stupid question in Lloyd’s opinion.
“Your full name is Lloyd J. Montgomery and your daughter is Lissa Montgomery?”
“That’s right. Lissa is my baby girl. I couldn’t allow her to be hurt again.” He looked up at Oz. “Did you ever love someone so much that you’d do anything for her and never mind the consequences?”
A slight roiling in his gut acknowledged the question. “Yes, sir,” Oz said. “I know just how you feel. I have to take you down to the station. You can make your statement there.”
“Sure,” Lloyd said. “Let me lock up here.” Lloyd stepped back into the office and fished the pry bar out of his tool bin. He handed it to Oz. “You’ll be wanting this.”
Oz gave himself a mental head slap when he realized he’d handled the murder weapon the last time he’d visited Lloyd Montgomery’s office.
Lloyd took a faded jacket off a hook and locked the door before turning to Oz again. “I was just trying to protect my girl.”
“I understand completely,” Oz said.
Vinnie drove the squad car and Oz sat beside him, turned so he could watch the prisoner. Lloyd looked shriveled and frail as he slouched on the rear seat, his expression devoid of hope.
When Lloyd gave his statement to Lieutenant Qualls, Oz stood silently in the back of the interrogation room. Lloyd removed his frayed baseball cap and set it on the table in front of him. Released from its confines, his mass of graying hair presented damning evidence of his presence in the boat used to dump Randal Knox in the lake.
Oz offered him a cup of coffee, cringing at the look of gratitude he received in return.
He listened to Lloyd explain that Randy had come by the Montgomery home looking for Lissa on her night off but that she’d gone to a movie with a girl friend.
“I told him not to come around because of the restraining order, but he just laughed and asked me what I thought I could do about it.” Lloyd removed a cotton handkerchief from his pocket and blotted his eyes before noisily blowing his nose. “I told him I was gonna call the police, but he shoved me against the wall. Then he grabbed me and lifted me off my feet. I felt like a darn moron with my feet dangling in the air.” He cleared his throat and glanced from Lieutenant Qualls to Oz, his expression grim.
“Then what happened, Mr. Montgomery?” Oz prompted.
“He was making fun of me, but I didn’t care what he said about me,” Lloyd’s mouth twitched. “But he told me he was going to wait for Lissa and I couldn’t let him do that so I hit him with the pry bar. It was hanging on the loop of my pants right here.” He put his finger in a cloth loop sewn into the side seam of his pants. It was designed to hold tools.
“Mr. Montgomery,” Oz interrupted. “At the time you struck Mr. Knox were you suspended in the air?”
Lloyd turned to look at Oz with surprise. “Why, yes. I was dangling there like a complete fool while he was threatening my baby girl.”
Oz exchanged a glance with Qualls.
“Thank you Mr. Montgomery,” Qualls said. “We appreciate you coming in. I’ll have to hold you, but I doubt that the District Attorney will bring charges.”
Lloyd looked from Qualls to Oz. “You mean it?”
Lieutenant Qualls shook his head, solemnly. “Mr. Montgomery, Randal Knox threatened you. He injured your daughter and violated the TRO you filed against him. The fact that he had his hands on you amounts to assault. That you struck him definitely constitutes self defense.” He stood up. “I’ll talk to the DA, but I don’t think he’ll be bringing a case against you. You can wait in a holding cell while I confirm this.”
As if in a daze, Lloyd picked up his hat and jammed it back on his head. He stood and shook each man’s hand in turn.
Relief flooded Oz’ insides. He blew out a stream of air through his pursed lips, glad that he didn’t have to stress out the man who had done what Oz would have done to protect someone he loved.
Qualls got Vinnie to take Lloyd to a holding cell while he left a message for the District Attorney. He turned to Oz and shook his head. “A jury would never convict that man.”
“Not if there were any parents on the jury,” Oz agreed. “What about the body dumping?”
“I’ll talk to the DA. I think we can drop it.” He clapped Oz on the shoulder. “Good work on closing out this case. It’s not always about a conviction.”
#
CHAPTER NINTEEN
Oz was quiet during dinner and remained distant afterward. He sat, staring at the television screen but hadn’t turned it on.
Micki left the dishes on the counter and sank down beside him. He was wrapped so tight she was reluctant to intrude. She hesitated, starting to rise when he didn’t acknowledge her presence. “Have I done something to upset you?”
Oz frowned, focusing his gaze on her. “No, baby. I’m sorry. It’s work.” He put his arm around her and drew her back onto the sofa.
“Are you mad or sad? I can’t tell,” she said.
“I’m disappointed,” he said, “in myself. I put a man ...no, a whole family through a lot of misery today. I thought I was onto something and I went after them, rooting around in their personal lives and I brought up some things they would have preferred that I hadn’t.”
Micki had never seen Oz so introspective. He was always sure and confident. “You were just doing your job.”
He nodded. “But there are consequences. I saw Hobart Jobe’s face. He looked like a squashed bug when he left the station. I caused that pain. I was so sure the Jobes were involved, but all their secrets revolve around their sexual relationships and, even then, I only have Laurel Jobe’s word that Hobart is a player.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand people like that.”
“You don’t have to, Oz,” she said. “Finding the killer was your assignment and that’s what you did. You had to follow up on all the leads that you uncovered.”
“I couldn’t stand by silently if I knew you were having an affair.” He gazed into her eyes. “I could understand if Jobe wanted to kill his wife’s lovers, but I can’t understand why he didn’t.”
Micki grinned at him. “You are such a guy. Some basic cave man DNA must have filtered down to you.”
Oz’ face split into a grin. “I guess I’m pretty basic all right.” He raised her hand to his lips. “I’m just bummed that I caused the Jobes to have to acknowledge their pathetic little lives.”
