Intimate Relations: A Finn O'Brien Crime Thriller

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Intimate Relations: A Finn O'Brien Crime Thriller Page 17

by Rebecca Forster


  Finn smiled at Cori's riff. There were worse ways to pass the time, and she was right about the movie people. If he had dreams of being a star they would have been shattered when he met Jeremiah Stotler and his Right Hand. He did admire the man's forthrightness, but honesty was the privilege of the wealthy. As was leverage. As was the ability to buy your way out of a problem. As was just about everything else in the world. Still, in this instance, it was a lowly duo like Finn and Cori who had the ultimate power because they cared so little for the Stotler's of the world.

  "I don't think I'd be making a trade of Bev for Gray. I'm happy to leave them both to Mr. Stotler," Finn said.

  He had one arm draped over the steering wheel and the other rested on the armrest. His eyes were on the traffic. It was flowing well considering it was a few minutes after three on a Thursday afternoon. It had been a toss up to head to Roxana's house or back to the station. In the end they couldn't pass up the chance to learn more about their victim.

  "Offramp." Cori pointed to the exit. Finn took it and Cori rolled right back into the conversation. "I'm counting my blessings for good old Lapinski. He chases ambulances for a living and does all right by it, but I wouldn't give one of him for ten of that guy. In fact, I have an old tape of The Baby Jungle. The daycare lady told me it was going to be a collector's item. I'm tossing it for sure now."

  "Hollywood seems to be nothing more than business. Pity. I was hoping to find the wizard and not a man behind the curtain," Finn said.

  "You don't need a heart," Cori said.

  "Perhaps a brain?"

  "I think you're okay there too." Cori laughed a little.

  "Then let's leave Mr. Stotler and the Right Hand behind," Finn said.

  "I'll red-line them," Cori said. "If Stotler had anything to do with it, he would have written a check after Gray sent the job out for bid. He would never take Roxana out himself. The man probably doesn't floss his own teeth."

  "Blacker than black, that soul of his. He's in good company though. Politicians have the same playbook," Finn said.

  Cori shot her partner a glance.

  "And Bev?"

  "Stotler would hand her over if it were expedient," Finn said. "I'm thinking to advise her to have an attorney on hand in case he turns on her."

  "And I'm thinking you've lost your marbles," Cori said. "You didn't cop to the relationship up front, O'Brien. That's one strike and no matter who gets indicted, that's going to be a big deal if they call you to testify. Goes to integrity of the investigation."

  "Not if Beverly was a minor player," Finn said.

  "Are you kidding?" Cori barked a laugh. "I logged that video into evidence. If she says you advised her on any matter, you're toast. Besides, her beef was more than personal. It was business and you're in the same bind."

  "What is it you're implying, woman?"

  Finn shot her a glance and she rolled her eyes.

  "Can you imagine her testimony if she's called as a witness?" Cori raised a hand and flipped her hair off her face in a poor imitation of Finn's ex. "Well, your honor, I got a great guy with a ton of money and I'm living like a queen, so I really didn't want this little girl messing with my gig. Oh, and my ex? Yeah, he gave me a heads up about getting a lawyer 'cause I guess he was worried I'd be implicated. He might have rearranged some things to protect me. Who knows? Oh, yeah, judge, he's definitely still carrying a torch. He'd do anything to protect me.'"

  Finn's laugh started small and got bigger. His head shook as he navigated through Hidden Hills. A year ago Cori would have realized too late that her mimicry hit too close to home. It didn't anymore.

  "I was only thinking that she should be prepared, but you're right. Watching out for her isn't my job any longer. Should the need arise, I'm sure Mr. Stotler will see to her legal needs."

  "If only to cover his tight little butt," Cori said.

  "Definitely. He'll cut her loose the minute it looks like she's a liability. She will understand. Sure, she will," he said. "And here we are."

  Finn pulled into the driveway of Roxana Masha Novika’s house. Her home sat on a hill, the nearest neighbor was more than two miles away. They could see the freeway winding through the hills. It disappeared, reappeared, and vanished again like a lazy river.

  Cori slid her sunglasses to the top of her head, pushing her big hair away from her face as she got out of the car. Her blue eye shadow sparkled in the sun. Finn walked to her side and they checked out the modern ranch. The front was plain, but out back there would be nothing but windows to take advantage of the view. Rock was laid like subway tiles framing flowering beds. There were no trees to cut the heat, and no grass to take away from the natural beauty of the hill. The driveway was wide. The detached garage could hold three cars.

  "I must have done something wrong in my last life, O'Brien." Cori said. "Good old Roxana did okay for herself. "

  Finn took off his glasses too. He hooked them over the breast pocket of his leather jacket. He said:

  "Except now she's lying on Paul's table, and you're still here," Finn reminded her as he headed for the front door.

  Cori went the opposite way. There was a grimy Toyota parked on the side of the garage. She cupped her hands and peered through the window. Good old Roxana may live in luxury, but she sure didn't take care of her car. The interior was more of a mess than the exterior. She seemed to have a taste for Starbucks and fast food hamburgers but an aversion to trash cans.

  Cori pivoted and cupped her hands again. This time she put them against the garage window and saw she had been wrong. The cars inside the garage were pristine. The Toyota was an orphan, too ugly to be in the same playpen with the other kids. She walked back to Finn who stood out of the sun under the lattice work that shaded the front entrance.

  "There's a throw-away on the side of the garage that's pretty trashed. Inside the garage there's an SUV and a Porsche. There's a space for a third car, but it's MIA. If she drove it to The Brewery, it might still be there. I'll check in with the DMV and see what she's got registered."

  Finn rang the bell. A chime sounded throughout the house. No one came to answer the call as expected. Finn made a fist, bent the middle finger, and rapped three times with his knuckle.

  "Police," he called.

  Nothing.

  He rapped once again, but waited no longer than a moment before he followed Cori. They walked over the driveway and down the length of the house. It took Cori a second to figure out how the gate on the side latched, but once she had it they found themselves in a narrow walkway. It was landscaped on one side, and on the other there were trash cans. Finn opened the first can.

  "Garden clippings." He replaced the lid and opened the next. "Nothing."

  Cori took a gander, but all she saw was the stuff that sticks to the bottom and lives on for eternity.

  "It looks like they picked up the trash recen..."

  Cori paused. Above them was a window. It was too high for them to see inside the house, but something caught her attention. She put a hand out to Finn and whispered:

  "Someone's in there."

  She scanned the side of the house as she pulled back in hopes of catching something or someone in the window. Finn motioned and whispered back.

  "I'll go 'round front door again—"

  That's when they heard a click and a snap. In any other neighborhood it would have gone unnoticed, but the silence was so perfect that the sound of a door opening could not be mistaken.

  Cori and Finn went around to the back of the house. There was a pergola that shaded part of a large patio, an outdoor kitchen, a large table for guests and two smaller ones next to oversized chairs.

  The patio was paved with Spanish tiles. They matched the ones framing the rectangular pool. The layout drew the eye to the view. Finn's gaze went to the fruit orchards, terraced gardens, valley and the freeway beyond. It was an idyllic backyard but one thing was out of place— the man hunkered in front of the sliding door trying to pull it shut.

 
"Can we help you with that?" Finn said.

  The question was as good as a shot. The young man threw himself up and back, stumbling into the wall of glass behind him. His eyes were wide. The color drained from his face, and his mouth opened in a prelude to a scream. He was not attractive, and he wasn't quite a man. Tops he had twenty-one years on him, but Cori doubted he'd seen much sunshine in all his days. His skin was pasty, his hair was lusterless, and he looked like he may be having a heart attack. Cori took a step forward. Finn was ahead of her by two, putting his hand inside his jacket to retrieve his badge when the man bolted.

  "Hey!" Finn lunged for the man, but it wasn't going to be that easy.

  The guy was fast and quick. Finn knew that those things were not one and the same. He was quick to build up his speed, and that's when it was obvious he was also going to be fast. To make matters worse, he was sure footed. That last meant little in the first hundred yards when he was flying past the pool and over the terraced lawn, but when he hit the hill Finn knew he had his work cut out for him.

  Behind him, Cori sprinted past the trashcans, through the gate, and back to the car. She got inside and hit the ignition before the door closed. The tires squealed on the bricked drive and the car bucked as she shot back to the road. Instead of heading back to the main drag, Cori went down the hill, toward the freeway. Once that guy got to the bottom of the hill he had two choices: try to outrun Finn in the valley or get to civilization and lose himself. Cori bet on civilization.

  The road she was on was seldom used, its only purpose was to serve utility vehicles. Cori's unmarked vehicle was no less sturdy than the black and whites. She took the bumps and grinds until she turned onto the dirt access road. There she took a hard hold of the steering wheel. When she came to a stop in a cloud of dust under the arched overpass it was just in time to see Finn give the chase his all.

  He closed the gap between himself and the running man. He had discarded his jacket. His t-shirt was sweat-soaked. His arms pumped, his powerful legs pounded over the terrain as he gained an inch, a foot, and then the man made a mistake. Before he reached the hard, even ground under the freeway he looked behind him to see how close Finn was and lost his momentum to indecision. Finn had no such handicap. He saw nothing but the man ahead of him, thought of nothing but taking him down. When he made his move Cori got out of the car to help, but all she had to do was give her partner a wide berth.

  As always it was something to see. Finn was a powerful man who was graceful when resolve was the final key to winning the day. He leapt, arms out, hitting the running man's back with his own shoulder for maximum impact. The man went down and Finn's arms went around him. They rolled twice. Like the runt of the litter, the man landed on his back and put his hands up to show the alpha dog there was no fight in him. Finn straddled him, pinning his legs. Both men did nothing more than breathe hard for a moment. Finn looked over his shoulder at the hill and then back to the man on the ground.

  "'Tis a long run," he said. "Wouldn't it have been easier to talk to us?"

  "I don't know who you are."

  Cori stepped forward, hunkered down, and held her credential up.

  "We're cops," she said.

  "I didn't do anything wrong," he wailed.

  "Then you better tell us what it was you were doing up there because to us it looked like breaking and entering. That will put you in a cell faster than slop goes through a hog," Cori said.

  Cori and Finn exchanged a glance. There was nothing like a threat with no teeth. Even if they arrested this guy, he would be back on the street in no time flat with the way the courts were backed up. The detectives didn't have to worry about being found out, the man was unconcerned. He put his arms down and balanced on his elbows, giving a nod to Finn.

  "Do you mind, man? You're cutting off my circulation."

  "You going to be giving me a chase again?" Finn asked.

  "Naw."

  "Up with you then." Finn hauled him to his feet and walked him to the piling. "Hands on. Feet spread."

  "Are you kidding me? I told you, I didn't do anything."

  "Do as you’re told," Cori said while Finn ran his hands over the man's body, a by-the- book frisk.

  "Clean." Finn pulled the man's wallet out of his back pocket.

  "What's your name?" Cori asked.

  "Sam." His eyes went to Finn who was studying his wallet. "Sam Franks, and I don't think you can do that." He asked Cori, "Can he do that?"

  "Darn tootin'," she said. "And you can turn around now."

  Finn handed the wallet back and started with the questions.

  "So what were you doing at that house? You don't live there, or you would have answered my call," Finn said.

  "You know I don't live there because you saw my license. I live in Encino," Sam said.

  "What's your relationship to Roxana?" Cori asked.

  "Who?" Sam pulled weeds out his hair.

  "The woman who owns that house on the hill," Cori said.

  "Sure, can we get to your story sooner than later?" Finn said, spitting out the dust he had swallowed when he took the man down. "What were you doing? And if it was so innocent, why did you run me a mile instead of telling me up there?"

  "My boss sent me to get something," Sam said.

  "Lord, man! Will you speak, or do I need to pull the truth out with your teeth?"

  Finn plucked his sweat-soaked T-shirt away from his body hoping to catch a breeze, but there was none. He wondered how far up he would have to hike to retrieve his jacket. Sam looked at Cori, but all she did was shrug to let him know that an upset O'Brien was his problem.

  "I was supposed to pick up a computer. There's a silhouette decal of a woman on the front. You know, like the stickers you see on a trucker's mud flaps?" He put a hand behind his head and preened, but gave up when Cori and Finn didn't find him funny. "Anyway, that's all I know. Pick up the computer with the sticker on the front, and deliver it to a place in Century City."

  "Who's you're employer?" Cori asked.

  "AIng Inc."

  "A name of a human, if you please?" Finn said.

  "I'm a virtual assistant." He held his palms skyward either in apology for his position or to indicate he existed only on the cloud. "I get an E-mail or a text, do what I'm told, and I bill the company. I don't deal with anyone in particular. In fact, I don't even do much for them. Every once in a while they have me do some research and keep up their content on their social media accounts. It's a pretty easy gig and they pay great."

  Sam dusted himself off and tested his extremities. When he was assured all was in working order, he smiled at them both.

  "If I thought there was anything illegal I wouldn't have taken the job, but the company sent me a key. A key, right? It's not like they told me to break in. I mean a key makes it legal."

  Cori pulled her lips tight. She debated telling this kid how many ways it could be wrong. First, he had no idea who sent the key or if they had come by it legally. More than one woman hadn't changed the locks after kicking out a volatile lover. What better revenge than to steal her computer and see what could be used for blackmail. In Roxana's case that would make sense. Tit for tat.

  "I'm kind of glad I didn't find it. That house was a little creepy. Super quiet. And this weird picture on the wall. I mean it was cool, but weird. Felt like a tomb in there." He brightened. "So, can I get a ride back up? I'm pooped."

  Enver and Emi Cuca waited on the lawyer. They had seen him many times and yet they still did not feel comfortable. In their country, if you went to court the judge met with the lawyers separately. Whichever lawyer offered the larger bribe won. In this case, Enver and Emi knew that their bribe could never be larger than the man they were concerned about. He was rich enough to bribe God himself. And yet this was America, so they tried to believe in the goodness of justice. The lawyer's name was Mr. Thompson. His offices were modest, but he seemed an honest man. Now he was a concerned one.

  "Criminal matters aren't my area of expe
rtise," he said. "But regarding the nondisclosure agreement, it is definitely binding. In fact, I could safely say that you would open up yourself to any number of problems should you break it."

  "I don't want that," Enver said.

  "No, we do not want any trouble, but the police say we are under suspicion," Emi said.

  "Here's the thing, I'm going to have to refer you to another colleague. A criminal attorney," Mr. Thompson said.

  "But we are not criminals," Enver said. Emi's hand closed over his. She squeezed a warning to him to be cautious with his words. He shook her off. "We are not. I did not kill that woman. I didn't even know she was in the house."

  "You are innocent until proven guilty," the lawyer assured them. "I'm suggesting a criminal attorney be retained in case the investigation takes a turn. The investigation is in the early stages. The man you were arguing with is a problem. You need to be prepared in case he shares something that might turn the spotlight back on you."

  "Spotlight?" Enver said.

  "I mean if he says something that might implicate you. Murder is a bad business. The body was found in your home. There is no way to keep you out of the mix. They will continue to have questions, and you need to be as honest as you can."

  "But not about this. Not about our business," Emi said.

  "No," he said. "You are legally bound by the nondisclosure unless..."

  "Unless what?" Emi asked.

  "Remember, while I am not a criminal attorney I am still bound by the attorney client privilege. I will protect you to the best of my ability. But if your business dealings had anything to do with the death of this young woman, it could be argued that you have an ethical obligation to tell what you know." Mr. Thompson, crossed his arms on the desk and looked at each of them in turn. "Do you know if any of the parties involved in the nondisclosure had any reason to wish this girl harm? Did any of the parties have an opportunity to injure her?"

  "No," Enver said. "There was no reason to wish her harm."

  "And you did not injure her?" he asked.

 

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