Tessa watched as Novak raked a hand through thick brown hair that was turning gray at the temples. His handsome face was creased in a frown of concentration as he looked through his computer files. She saw that his eyes were hazel, a mix of light brown and green and blue that was striking even in the low office lighting. She knew he was thirty-six from her research, but he looked much younger, despite the bits of silver in his hair.
“I’m going to give you the name of a good defense attorney. It’s possible with restitution of funds to the insurer and a family court sentence for your grandson, you can make this all go away. It’s out of my hands, though, as I warned you it would be if you filed an insurance claim.”
Tessa watched Novak shrug his shoulders. Very broad shoulders. He wore a casual oxford-type shirt tucked into khakis, which emphasized the wedge shape of his chest. She remembered Ronnie saying Novak had worked with the Orange County Sheriff’s SWAT team, so clearly he was once in excellent physical shape. Life behind a desk hadn’t changed that as far as she could see.
“Sorry about that, Ms. Jacobi. That particular client has a personal problem I got involved with. I didn’t want to cut him loose without giving him some ideas on how to proceed.”
“I know what you mean. I often spend more time on my petty crime and misdemeanor cases because the people involved are so…needy. It’s hard to say no sometimes,” Tessa smiled.
“My assistant MacBeth tells me you’re a prosecutor with the Los Angeles District Attorney’s Office,” Luke said. MacBeth was his primary investigator and sometime assistant, the person in the office who fielded most of the new cases to determine whether they were viable for Novak International.
“Yes. I’ve been there over four years. While I’ve never worked with Novak International, my office occasionally farms out cases to local bonded investigators.”
“That’s us. All of my employees are former peace officers who are able to make arrests, gather evidence for trial, perform legal surveillance, and so on. Although I have to admit, it’s not the bread and butter of the company,” Novak said.
“Why? There are plenty of firms that make their overhead doing that type of work.”
“I don’t need all the rules, paperwork, and bureaucratic ass-kissing that goes along with getting those contracts,” Novak said bluntly, watching for her reaction. “If I’d wanted that, I would have stayed with the sheriff’s department.”
Tessa hesitated, then reminded herself that this was exactly what she was looking for. She needed someone who could discreetly investigate an aspect of the case that she wanted to soft-pedal to the police. At least for now.
“Point taken, Mr. Novak. I’ve kissed more than my share of ass with the D.A.’s Office, and it’s something the police seem to do particularly well when it comes to certain key players. Frankly, that’s why I need someone like you.”
“Call me Luke. Or Novak. We’re not much on ceremony around here, Tessa.” He leaned back and put his feet on the desk just to see how she would react. Poking at the pretty, uptight prosecutor was proving to be the most entertaining part of his week so far. He wondered how far he could push her before she pushed back—always a good thing to know with a prospective client.
Tessa had been around enough cops to know when she was being tested. And to know that passing the test was important to earning the respect of the man casually reclining across from her with his feet on the desk.
“Luke it is,” Tessa said. She pushed her chair back far enough to prop her own feet on the desk as well.
Luke’s eyes goggled as he took in her pale brown suede pumps and slender calves encased in silky nylons. His gaze went up her legs, and he could have sworn he saw a hint of creamy lace underneath her business skirt.
“Is this outrageous enough, or do I have to grunt and scratch my crotch as well to play in your boys’ club?” Tessa asked with an arched brow.
Luke laughed out loud as he sat up and put his feet back on the floor. “You’ll do, Tessa Jacobi. You’ll do just fine. I should have known better than to dare a woman with an Italian last name.”
Tessa chuckled as she sat up and smoothed her skirt to cover her legs once more. “Comes from hanging out with cops. My family is actually Swiss—from the part of the country near the Italian border.”
“Swiss. That explains the organized and no-nonsense approach.”
“It goes far with the prosecutor’s office. And it helps when I’m dealing with a complicated case and a VIP suspect that no one wants to upset with something as pesky and irritating as an investigation,” Tessa said.
“I wondered what was so messy that the D.A. had to do an end run around the police. Why don’t you start from the beginning.”
Tessa nodded and briefly went over Kelly’s story. She started with the night the attack took place, then walked him through the medical exam and gathering of evidence. Finally, she gave an overview of the stalled investigation into the rape allegations and her reluctance to have the police investigate the credit cards and cash discovered in Kelly’s things.
“So you’re looking for help with the investigation overall?” Luke asked.
“For now, let’s focus on the investigation into these credit card accounts,” Tessa said, handing him the photocopy she had made of the cards. “I don’t want to break all the rules and involve a private investigator in a major celebrity case. Besides, I have absolute trust in the two officers who have now been assigned to take over the investigation. I’ve worked with Ed Flynn and his partner in the past,” Tessa said, reluctant to divulge her personal friendship with either Ed or Veronica.
“Can I be honest here?” Luke leaned back in his chair as he studied the photocopied sheet. He noted with interest that there was a handwritten phone number at the bottom of the page, and filed it quietly away for the future. “When I was with the OC Sheriff’s Department, I was involved with lots of major crimes cases—including high-profile ones. There’s something highly suspect about this rape victim’s story. That’s probably why the guys assigned to the case at first dragged their feet.”
“Look, we don’t exactly have a slam dunk in terms of physical evidence, but I’d hardly call her story suspect.”
“Yeah? Then why do you need me?” Luke asked.
Tessa swallowed. “Since the police have a number of other cases to pursue, I was afraid this one was going to get shelved. Or that the police would get distracted by the possibility of credit card, um, irregularities. I’m sure you can understand why I don’t want the police to waste time looking into something like that when I believe that the whole mess can be easily explained.”
“What else? I still don’t buy the reasons for the departmental foot-dragging that’s happened up until now. Something happened to get this case pulled from the preliminary investigators and handed to these new ones. Ed Flynn is the best, so I know there’s something big here,” Novak said. “Anything you share with me is confidential,” he reminded Tessa.
“Ah, there are some slight irregularities. A few problems with the victim’s identification papers.”
“Such as…?”
“Such as she doesn’t seem to have any. Says they were stolen. But the fact is, nothing on her matches anything in the state of Colorado’s databases. It’s raised a red flag, and I’m afraid the police would rather focus on that than on the fact that an eighteen-year-old girl was raped by America’s favorite quarterback,” Tessa said, shoving her hair behind her ears.
“Sounds like you’ve hit more than one brick wall over this,” Novak said.
She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “You could say that. No one seems to see what I do,” she said.
“Which is?”
“A pretty eighteen-year-old girl who wants to be the next Britney Spears. Who came to Hollywood alone to pursue a recording contract, and has no friends or family in LA except for a cousin. I see a petite teenager who was raped on a date with a thirty-year-old football player weighing over two hundred po
unds,” Tessa said, clenching her fists in her lap at the thought of what Kelly had been through.
“Finally, I see two overworked Beverly Hills cops who would rather pick at holes in the victim’s background than have the stones to confront said football player and deal with the political fallout. That’s why I asked to have Ed assigned to the case, and for it to be handled as he does his other major crimes investigations.”
Novak’s eyebrows went up at the suppressed rage in Tessa’s voice. “Why are you so concerned about a starstruck kid from Colorado? Unfortunately, her story is not uncommon in LA.”
“Well maybe that’s proof something really is wrong with the system.”
“And you’re going to be the one to fix it,” Novak said neutrally.
“I’d like to try. This is the biggest case that’s come across my desk in four years with the D.A. But it’s not just that—there’s Kelly. You need to meet her to understand. There’s something about her that draws you in. Innocence, vulnerability, I don’t know what it is. I just know I believe her when she says something terrible happened. I want to help her.”
“Emotional involvement can be a liability in a case like this. You might discover things you don’t want to believe about innocent, vulnerable Kelly during the course of the investigation. And potential credit card fraud could be the least of the situation. Are you ready for that?”
Hazel eyes looked right at Tessa, as if trying to determine whether she had the strength to do this. “I’m ready. But frankly, it’s not any of your business. I’d be paying you to investigate the credit cards found in Kelly’s possession. Not to monitor my commitment to finding the truth or handling whatever reality is uncovered.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. If you hire me, my job will be to protect you and your interests while I investigate what’s going on. As my last client discovered, sometimes I may have to protect you from yourself. Especially if you’re wearing blinders where the victim is concerned.”
“I’m not—” Tessa began.
“Sure you are—look at Kelly Martin’s situation. The credit card thing could be the tip of the iceberg, yet the victim pleads ignorance. And you make excuses for her by saying she’s been through an ordeal. It sounds like she and her story could lead you into a minefield. Missteps on this type of case can end your career.”
“That’s my risk to take,” Tessa insisted.
“Not if you hire me, it’s not. Then I’m in the game with you. Take it or leave it.”
“I don’t need a partner to share liability. I need an investigator to look into the accounts of the cards involved, gather information, and document what he finds so I can clear Kelly. And I need someone who doesn’t have issues with taking a subordinate role,” she said pointedly.
Novak laughed. “I’ve got no problem with that. But you need someone who doesn’t have a brain—who will tiptoe around the tough questions. That’s not what people hire me for.”
“What do they hire you for? I find it fascinating that you’re trying to talk me out of giving you this job. I was told that you wouldn’t be afraid to take on a case like this one. Obviously, I was told wrong.”
“Ouch—straight shot to the balls,” Novak said with a grin. “But I like you, Swiss. So I’m going to skip the sales pitch. You need to hire a bonded investigator who will do exactly what you ask and never question whether there’s a better way to do things. Or whether there’s another explanation for how Kelly Martin ended up with a fistful of cash and credit cards on a date with a sports star.”
He held his hand up to stop her when she tried to interrupt.
“People expect Novak International to get the job done, regardless of the methods—and regardless of what kind of dirt we turn up on each of the players. You need to think about whether this is the type of service you’re looking for.”
She stood and grabbed her bag, then took her papers off his desk. “It’s not. I’m looking for someone who can work within the system and help me get justice for Kelly—someone who understands the rules.”
“Then you’d better go back to hoping the police will solve all of society’s problems,” Luke said. “Maybe they’ll buy this kid’s sob story.”
Tessa whipped around. “Yeah, well I won’t hire an investigator who looks at Kelly and wonders what she did to bring this situation onto herself.” She turned around again and crossed the room. A lifetime of good manners had her stopping in the doorway. “I appreciate your honesty, though. It saved us both a lot of trouble.”
“Honesty is something you’ll always get from me, Swiss. Whether you want it or not.” Novak called his receptionist to see his almost client out.
He turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and watched Tessa cross the parking lot. He could almost hear the authoritative click of her heeled shoes on the pavement. Watching the irritated swish of her hips under the sage green business skirt, he smiled.
She was pissed.
“You’re supposed to be a salesman, boss. Not drive prospective clients out the door.”
Luke turned to look at the man who had silently entered the office from a connecting doorway behind him. MacBeth, as a potential future partner in Novak International, was being trained in how to handle clients and had been observing the meeting behind a two-way mirror.
“What can I say? It was too much fun watching her try to control her temper. What did you think of her?” He gestured toward the woman backing up her Honda sedan with a jerky motion.
“Not what I expected from a junior prosecutor with the D.A.’s Office. She’s a pistol under the cool surface.”
“Seems strange to have all that fire wrapped up in an Ann Taylor suit with matching suede shoes,” Luke agreed. “I was half-tempted to take the case just to see what has her in a lather.”
“Sledge Aiken had better look out,” MacBeth noted.
“Yeah, but there’s something wrong with the setup. How does an eighteen-year-old kid fresh in from Colorado score a date with LA’s newest celebrity, especially when she supposedly doesn’t have any friends here? And how the hell does she end up with almost ten thousand cash and half a dozen credit cards belonging to other people in her purse?” Luke asked.
“I thought the story sounded odd. That’s why I passed Ms. Jacobi on to you.”
“And why I passed, period. A celebrity case is hard enough without having to deal with the shattering of innocence, too,” Luke said.
“Whose innocence? The girl who was raped or Tessa Jacobi’s?” MacBeth asked.
“I think they’re uncomfortably linked, my friend.”
“Then it’s just as well she didn’t hire us. I’d hate to watch someone as nice as the deputy D.A. figure out the hard way that not everyone is as honest and straightforward as she is.”
“Yeah. Watching good people get manipulated and chewed up by the system is never fun,” Luke said.
And I ought to know it.
Chapter 5
Downtown Los Angeles
Friday, February 26
“I’m sorry to drag you into this, Ed. As soon as I can find another investigator to look into the credit cards, I’ll stop bugging you to come along and hold my hand every day,” Tessa said.
Ed Flynn snorted and followed her through the early-morning pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. They were headed to a popular local coffee shop where Ed would meet Kelly Martin for the first time.
“Luke Novak is one of the best investigators in Southern California. He’s got a list of informants that any active cop would kill to have. I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t hire him.”
“He didn’t have the right personality,” Tessa said vaguely.
“What the hell does that mean?” Ed asked.
“I need someone who can help me work within the system, in Kelly’s favor. Novak doesn’t want to work with the system, he wants to burn it down.”
Ed coughed at the edge in Tessa’s voice. She glared at him.
“Luke Novak is a cowbo
y. I need someone a little more…” She searched for the right word.
“Tame? Obedient, even?” Ed suggested.
“I don’t require obedient,” Tessa shot back. “But housebroken would be nice.”
Ed laughed out loud. “So he pissed on your case, did he?”
“He basically said he didn’t believe Kelly’s story. He told me I had blinders on and might not like what I saw when reality unceremoniously ripped those blinders away.” Her pride still smarted at that one.
There was a long silence. Finally, Ed said with a sigh, “Let’s go meet your victim, Tessie. I want a chance to understand this girl who’s got a hold on your tender heart.”
She let out a relieved breath, thankful he hadn’t agreed outright with Novak’s analysis of the situation. “Come on, that’s her in the corner booth.”
They greeted Kelly—who barely looked up from the coffee she was stirring—and sat down across from her. Tessa frowned as she saw the girl was wearing a high-necked sweater despite the mild day. She had also stuffed her long, platinum blond hair under a large-brimmed hat.
When Kelly felt Tessa’s eyes on her, she glanced up briefly, revealing oversized black sunglasses. The room was bright, but not enough to need them. She quickly looked back down at the table and continued stirring the cup in front of her.
“What’s wrong?” Tessa asked gently.
Kelly shrugged, then lifted her thumb to her mouth and started chewing the ragged cuticle.
Tessa slowly reached across the table and pulled Kelly’s sunglasses away from her face. The girl said nothing as Tessa gasped out loud.
“Your face! Who did this to you?” Tessa carefully turned Kelly’s head toward the sunlight, revealing raw looking bruises around her left eye, cheekbone, and the corner of her mouth.
ColorofDeath Page 38
