“She still hates Victoria after all these years?”
“She surely does. Even though Vickie and Drew broke up months before he tried to knock off the Jiffy Mart, Alice always blamed Vickie for Drew’s going to prison. It didn’t make any sense.”
“But then love doesn’t,” Bob said.
By the time Mia walked away from the front steps away from the Olds’ home, it was already late afternoon and she’d had no fewer than four text messages from Jack asking when she was coming home.
She smiled ruefully at the texts. Even the biggest tough guys turn into babies when they’re sick. She headed back to Atlanta and punched in her mother’s number for the long ride home.
“Well, I wondered when I might hear from you,” Jessie answered.
“Sorry. Been busy.”
“Bill said you had a new and very high profile case.”
“Yeah. And I think I’m just starting to get some headway with it. What’s new on your end? Got the cake and the catering all scheduled?”
“The cake, yes, the catering, not yet. Oh! I talked with Jack this afternoon. He’s going to do the rehearsal dinner.”
“Cool.”
“And I talked with Cindy, Bill’s ex-wife.”
“She’s about three exes back, isn’t she?”
“Two, but she is the mother of his children.”
“Okay, well what did she have to say?”
“She was very nice. Wished me every happiness.”
“She’s not invited, is she?”
“We’re still discussing it.”
“Don’t tell me. You’re in favor and the chief is a nay vote.”
Jessie sighed heavily. “He has a lot on his plate right now.”
“By that you mean a one hundred and twenty pound pain in the ass by the name of Mindy.”
“She’s going to be family in about ninety days, Mia.”
“If you say so. To change the subject, how did Jack sound when you talked to him?”
“Very ill. What is it, food poisoning?”
Mia laughed. “Don’t even breathe that word around a professional chef, Mom. No, he thinks it’s the flu.”
“What’s going on with his case?”
“Seems Jack’s lawyer wants to delay the prelim and Jack wants to waive his right to a speedy trial.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“I know, right?”
“Bill said the ME and the detectives at the scene will testify at the preliminary hearing. He said the prosecution might call you, too, Mia. You need to be prepared.”
Mia felt her good mood deflate. How was she going to pretend that none of this happened with Jack if she had to stand up in court and lie under oath?
“What in the world can I say?”
“The truth, of course.”
“Even if the truth sends Jack to prison?”
“If Jack goes to prison, dear girl, it will be his actions that sent him there, not your testimony.”
“That sounds pretty, Mom, but it’s not true and you know it.”
*****
Maxwell shifted uncomfortably in his chair. God knows he should have done this years ago; sat the girl down and talked to her straight. She was always an alien being, her head in her computer. And he had always been a people person. Could there be a father and daughter more different?
“Hey, Dad.” Mindy swept into the sushi restaurant and gave him a kiss before taking her seat opposite him. He was amazed at how much she looked like his mother in her younger days. But whereas his mother looked mousey, Mindy took the same brown hair, pale complexion and narrow green eyes and brought an intensity and power to the whole package that always startled him.
Not pretty, exactly, but arresting. Definitely arresting.
“Mindy,” he said, smiling at her. “You look comfortable.”
Now, why did he say that? She was dressed in jeans and a floppy tunic of some kind. She didn’t exactly look like a homeless person, just not like she was meeting someone for lunch downtown. He watched her flinch and he could’ve kicked himself.
“Yes, well, thank you, Dad,” she said, picking up the menu and gazing at it. “That was, after all my goal, to appear comfortable.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It doesn’t matter. So what will you have? I know you have trouble in places like this.”
“I’ll have whatever you have.”
He’d already grabbed a sandwich earlier. Mindy knew he didn’t eat this crap; probably was the reason she chose the restaurant. He could play her game if he needed to. Just stay cool, keep everything nice and pleasant.
Mindy slapped down her menu when the waiter came over and ordered raw tuna for both of them. Maxwell was certain she picked the most disgusting thing on the menu just to rattle him. He wouldn’t let that happen.
“So,” he said, after the waiter walked away, “I talked with Jess and she really wants you in the wedding as a bridesmaid, with Mia.”
“That’s so sweet,” Mindy said, but her face didn’t reflect her words. “She sent me a welcome to the family note the other day.”
“Did she? Well, that’s Jess for you. I’m glad.”
“You must have told her about my wild days before I settled down and got married, Dad,” Mindy said, her eyes glassy with excitement. Maxwell automatically stiffened in preparation for whatever she had up her sleeve.
“I haven’t told her anything negative about you,” he said, eyeing her carefully.
“Oh, no? Well, she offered to help me score weed if I didn’t have my own source so I just assumed you’d talked to her.”
Maxwell’s gut churned. “I don’t believe you.” What was wrong with this girl? What had always been wrong with her?
“I can show you her note if you like,” Mindy said, her eyes round and eager to help. She pulled a notecard out of her purse. Even from across the table, he recognized it as one of Jess’s.
“Dear Mindy,” Mindy read. “Thank you so much for calling me the other day.” She looked up. “I called her last week to say hi. I’m surprised she didn’t mention it to you.”
He held out his hand for the note and she passed it to him.
Dear Mindy, Thank you so much for calling the other day. If you need a source for what we were talking about (hint hint, rhymes with pot) let me know. I’m still in the game for at least the cost of my mortgage every month. I hope we find an opportunity soon to get together. Best wishes, Jess Kazmaroff.
“Do you recognize her handwriting?”
For a moment, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to throw up the sandwich he’d bolted the hour earlier. He stared at the notecard, uncomprehending, unbelieving.
“I have to ask, Dad, how much do you really know about her?”
“Stop it, Mindy.” He still couldn’t stop looking at the card. It looked just like Jess’s handwriting. Would his crazy daughter really have forged it?
“Did you know she had an arrest for pot?” Mindy asked, taking chopsticks out of the paper sleeve in front of her.
“Back in the sixties,” he said, placing the notecard on the table. “Everybody did.”
“You didn’t. Mom didn’t. How about the more recent charge? For resisting arrest? Do you know about that one?”
“That a was a peaceful protest. Jess and fifty other people were hauled in on an Occupy Wall Street demonstration.”
How did Mindy know about all this shit? Of course. She’d have gone online to check Jess out. That was a given.
“Oh, good. How about the prostitution arrest? I know you haven’t bothered to check the public court records on your intended but, honestly, Dad, you might want to.”
He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want her to know she’d gotten to him. But he had to know.
“What are you talking about?”
“It was ten years ago, so maybe it doesn’t matter to you since it was so long ago, but she was arrested on charges of prostitution. Frankly, I didn’t know you
were so cool, Dad.”
Could this be true? Is there a way in hell it could be true? Jess was a bit of a wild card. Why hadn’t Jess told him that Mindy called? He touched the note again, working to push the word prostitution to the back of his mind.
He glanced at Mindy. Her eyes positively danced like he hadn’t seen since he’d bought Mindy her first laptop. What kind of strange creature was this child of his? To delight in uncovering and delivering such poison? To possibly have even created it herself?
“Gee, Dad,” Mindy said, smiling broadly, “you look a little queasy around the gills. Trust me, the tuna isn’t bad here. They almost never come with parasites anymore.”
*****
Jack surveyed the living room with a critical eye. He’d removed all the tissue boxes, throat lozenge papers and assorted tea mugs from the coffee table—everything that served as evidence of his extremely nonproductive day while Mia was gone. Not that she expected him to do any work when he was sick. He showered and dressed, glancing again at his phone to see she hadn’t checked in since the last time she’d texted on my way an hour ago. He’d slept for five hours—until just after lunch and awakened refreshed if still weak.
The fact was, he really had needed a reason to slow down and rest. What he didn’t need was think about Jim Martin—who he was, who his family was. If there was any way Jack could just zero in on that amazing girl driving home at this very moment who would soon be in his arms then maybe he could stop himself from thinking about how selfish it was to allow her to put her life on hold for him if he did have to…go away for a time.
Determined not to let her bring up his case, but not to deflect it too harshly either, Jack poured himself another mug of hot tea just as his phone rang. It was his lawyer.
“Bad news.”
Shit. Defense attorneys should be legally prevented from starting any phone conversation with those two words.
“What?”
“Just floated the possibility of a deal in the courthouse hallway today and it’s probably not going to be one you’ll be excited to take.”
“Fine. I’m going with a not guilty plea anyway. As you know.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the bad news.”
“Do you mind spitting it out?”
“I heard it from someone who knows someone that if they decide there’s probable cause at the hearing, they’re going to revoke bail. Sorry, Jack. If they charge you formally at the preliminary, they’ll take you into custody.”
*****
The rain always seemed louder from Jack’s room. His bedroom window faced the parking lot. Maybe all that asphalt made the difference in creating a drumming effect that was lost among the trees and bushes that flanked the guestroom where Mia usually slept.
While Jack strongly suggested she sleep in her own bed tonight to prevent her catching what he had, she insisted on sleeping together. Even if it meant getting sick, it was better than being estranged for one more night.
The minute she walked into the condo, she knew something was “off”—and not just because he was sick. He smiled and asked questions about her case but she could tell there was something missing behind his eyes. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t ask about his case unless he volunteered it. And he didn’t.
Mutually deciding that tonight was as good a time as any to have a completely stress-free, hot-button free evening, they curled up on the couch together and watched TV until they both nodded off. Once in the bedroom, Jack was asleep within minutes and for that Mia was grateful. He needed the rest.
She watched him sleep for a moment, his face finally relaxed, and then slipped out of bed and went to the living room. There, she pulled out her laptop and the printout Nathan Turner had given her of the men Victoria had not met up with. Using Victoria’s password, Mia logged onto Victoria’s profile and went to her history on Atlanta Loves. Matching the list of men in Victoria’s site history with the sheet that Turner had given her, Mia clicked on each name and read the exchanged messages.
There were hundreds and hundreds of names.
Even so, things went relatively quickly. It was clear after the first few exchanges that Victoria was fishing for a certain kind of man—one interested in sex out of the ordinary, although she couched it in less subtle terms. Mia read one exchange:
A few days had passed with no communication, and then Victoria reached out again.
There were no more email messages between them. Victoria’s responses were clearly designed to weed out the men looking for a possible love partner. Sometimes the exchanges ended after Victoria’s first response, sometimes they went on a little longer. The police had access to the exchanges that had actually led to a face-to-face.
Mia glanced at the clock. It was after two in the morning. She wasn’t sure what this exercise was showing her, she just knew it was a road the cops hadn’t gone down. She ran a finger down the long columns in the ten-page document and found six men whose addresses were not included. She frowned and decided to start with them first since they’d be the trickiest to locate.
Going back to Atlanta Loves, she clicked on the first name, Ben Mattherson, and worked her way down. An hour later, just about to go back to bed, she clicked on the fifth name with no address, a Jeffrey Wojinziky. Reading the exchange between him and Victoria, Mia found herself waking up. A tingling sensation crept up her bare arms.
Mia frowned when she saw the date on the next entry. For whatever reason, a couple of weeks had passed before Jeff responded again to Victoria.
Mia recognized the name of the infamous Midtown strip club Victoria referenced. She was doing her damnedest to find out if Jeff was open to the kinky stuff.
Holy shit! They were setting up a meeting, and because they weren’t swapping numbers the dating site’s data scan bots hadn’t picked up on it.
Mia felt a rush of adrenaline. She had a suspect the cops didn’t know about, one who’d met Victoria in person.
That was the end of their messages. Obviously, they’d met up and found other ways of contacting each other.
Was this J?
It was the first solid lead that hadn’t been discovered by the cops. Mia examined Jeff Wojinziky’s profile picture. He had a pleasant face, ginger-hair and a light beard. His background info said he was a plumber who loves the Georgia Bulldogs. No college listed. No employer listed. Mia tapped a pencil against her bottom lip trying to put together the blue-collar plumber with the enigmatic Victoria.
An email notice appeared in the upper right hand of her screen and she clicked on it. It wasn’t unusual to get emails in the middle of the night, and when she saw that it was from her client, George Peterson, she was even less surprised. Lawyers worked long and late.
Hello, Ms. Kazmaroff,
It
’s been a busy day but I couldn’t end it without notifying you that your services will no longer be needed in the case of Joshua Cook vs. the State, as Mr. Cook was cleared of all charges and released from police custody late this afternoon.
Please stop working on Mr. Cook’s behalf immediately as, with his release, this is once more an open police investigation.
Thank you for your help. If you would be so kind as to invoice me for the balance of your time, I would me most grateful.
Kindest regards,
George Peterson.
Mia stared at the email. She reread it three times, but no matter how many times she read it the message didn’t change.
She was fired.
And Joshua Cook was a free man.
Chapter 9
Chief William Maxwell stood in the side yard of Jess’s house and threaded a long green hose along the ground. It had been years since he’d done yard work. Jess had a lawn guy but there was always work to do.
The sound of the screen door slamming made him look toward the house. He wasn’t surprised to see Mia pulling on her jacket and jogging across the lawn toward him. He’d watched her and Jack drive up a few minutes ago.
They were supposed to be here to discuss the menu for the rehearsal dinner that Jack was catering, but with that lowlife Cook cleared on the Internet Hussy case he knew the real point of the visit.
“Morning, Chief,” she called to him. “Thinking of lighting a match to it?”
“Mia,” he said, nodding in greeting.
“Interesting news about Cook. How’d he slip the noose?”
Maxwell squinted at the sun dipping behind the sourwoods in Jessie’s front yard. He couldn’t help looking for signs of a pot garden and he hated himself for even thinking of it. A quick check into the police records ten years back popped up the prostitution charge just as Mindy said. Naturally, she’d failed to mention that the charge was in connection to a series of mass arrests at a political rally involving better wages and healthcare for sex workers and that the charge had been dropped.
Complete Mia Kazmaroff Romantic Suspense Series, 1-4 Page 69
