ON The Rocks (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 3) (Redemption Thriller Series 15)

by John W. Mefford

  “Is this why you keep pushing me away? I don’t get it. If you were dating someone, why wouldn’t you just tell me? Instead, you wait for me to find you screwing in your filthy office. For what? So that you could crush me?”

  “Just like you did to me.”

  The words had left my mouth before I thought through their potential impact. The drumbeat of my heart was the only thing reminding me I was still alive. Every other part of me wanted to wither away.

  She put a hand to her chest. “I admitted my mistakes, Ozzie. Have you been building up resentment toward me all this time? I thought you were soul-searching, figuring out a way to forgive me, to rekindle that love I thought we both knew had never left us. But now…”

  “You have to grow up, Nicole,” Rosie said from behind me.

  My heart clattered to the ground. Oh no she didn’t.

  She continued, slithering around my body to face Nicole. “This world is a mean place. I know that more than you, more than anyone. And if you don’t watch out, that person who you thought would love you until ‘death do you part’ might just put a bullet in your head.”

  Rosie’s spitefulness nearly took my breath away. I understood she’d been through some rough situations, but damn. Her past had obviously done irreparable harm to her ability to…well, for starters, act human. I wanted to explain all this to Nicole, but now was not the time. Maybe I’d never get the chance.

  “She is a sick woman, Ozzie,” Nicole said. “But you know what? She’s your sick woman. So why don’t you take this care package and screw all over it.”

  She flung the package at me, straightened her jacket, and walked out the door.

  “Good riddance to Nicole,” Rosie said in my ear.

  I turned and glared at her. I could feel my nostrils flaring. “How could you be that cruel? That’s the woman I love. The woman I’ll always love.”

  “Ten minutes ago, I was the only woman you wanted. And you know it, Ozzie. Now, do you want to get back to where we were? You know, a nice revenge fuck?”

  I was fuming. I couldn’t speak. Where had this Rosie come from?

  “No? Okay, well.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’m outta here.” She walked out of the office with more of a hip-swing than usual. It was as if she’d accomplished some kind of mission. Or was it her only mission?

  Nicole and Ozzie were no more.

  26

  By lunchtime, I was at Peretti’s. I slid onto a barstool and even plucked my own napkin from the pile and set it in front of me. I looked at the bartender—an older guy I’d seen around who never said much. He was loading beer bottles into a barrel full of ice.

  “Where’s Poppy?”

  He motioned with his eyes toward the back room. I checked my phone to see if either Rosie or Brook had replied to my group text. You heard it right: I sent one group text. I wasn’t in the mood to play games—never had been, really. In that text, I said that Rosie had evidence that Earl hired a person to kill Stuart Benson and that she could give Brook all the details. I added that Rosie should call Brook or show up at Brook’s office in downtown—immediately.

  Just then, a text came in from Brook. It was straight to me, not including Rosie.

  Not sure why u did the group text, but I’ll take it. She’s not responding to me. Have u seen her?

  I thumbed a quick response.

  Briefly this morning. Long story. It’s all yours now. Just keep me in loop on what you find with Billy’s background.

  She came back with one more text.

  Wise decision. FYI – Asst DA is involved. He’s already spoken to Earl’s lawyer. They’re coming in for “informal” discussion midafternoon. I told ADA that we had to charge the bastard today. Rosie’s safety is in jeopardy.

  I scoffed at that one: Rosie’s safety. I’d been using that excuse to convince myself I had to rescue her from Earl, from her past—Billy, Dr. Copeland, whomever. Why did I think I had to be the liberator for every oppressed, poor soul? Look what that had gotten me. I was disgusted with myself on so many levels.

  I punched up Brook’s number.

  “I thought we were texting,” she said.

  “We were. I got tired of it.”

  “You’re in a good mood,” she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

  “The morning, well…let’s just say you told me so.”

  “You said you saw Rosie.”

  “I did.” I added nothing more.

  After a pause, Brook said, “Okay, I won’t ask questions. Not about that stuff. Maybe later, though…you know, if you want to talk.”

  Right now I just wanted to drink. “Maybe.”

  I then told her about what Rosie had overheard: Earl threatening to have Stuart Benson killed. And I also mentioned Earl’s opinion on the Bensons in general.

  “Juicy. That will definitely spice up the conversation with Earl and his snake of a lawyer.”

  “You can’t use that name.”

  She asked why, and I told her about Lyle Pierce, a.k.a. Snake. “Whenever you pick up that fucker, see if he owns any steel-toed boots.”

  “Do you think he’s the guy who assaulted you?”

  I told her why Rosie thought he was the same person. “We’ll talk more later. Right now, I gotta go.” I disconnected the call and waited for Poppy to appear, to serve me the liquid I so badly needed.

  A second later, Poppy walked behind the bar, her red hair in mounds of dreadlocks around her head. I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

  Phone at her ear, she waved at me and finished up her conversation. I glanced over my shoulder. The lunch crowd filled up almost half the place, mostly professional types in fancy blazers and vests. Austin was slowly turning from the “weird” city into one that was far too self-indulgent to notice it had changed.

  While I waited for Poppy, I picked up a menu. It was sticky, so I held it like one would hold a fresh print, along the edges, using no fingertips. They had a decent assortment of food items, although I’d only tried a few of their appetizers. The cheese fries looked like they might do the trick.

  “You’re actually going to eat too?” Poppy feigned surprise by bringing a hand to her mouth. The back of her hand had extra ink, but her hand was moving so quickly I couldn’t get my eyes on it.

  “New tattoo?”

  “Maybe,” she said with a flirtatious wink. I knew it was all in jest. We were just pals; besides, she swung the other way. That made this destination double friendly.

  “If you have to ask,” she said, bringing a glass along with the bottle of Knob Creek. “It’s the initials of my new girlfriend, CT.”

  Wonderful. Everyone was moving forward, growing up, figuring out life and who made them happy and complete. At one time, I, too, had that figured out until the Nicole betrayal. And, now, I had become a betrayer too.

  “If you’re happy, Poppy, then I’m happy.”

  She gave me a wink, which, in and of itself, was a strange phenomenon. She had three stud rings piercing her eyebrow.

  Then her eyes grew wide. She set the bottle and glass on the bar and reached out for my chin. “Damn. That’s for real?”

  “Yep.”

  “What the hell did you get yourself into this time?”

  She’d automatically assumed it was me who’d started this epic tumble. I thought more about the new Rosie that had shown up at the apartment last night. The trench coat. And then earlier in my office. Those legs. Those damn legs. “There I go again. I’m blaming legs, when I should be blaming myself.” I realized that I’d actually verbalized my thoughts.

  Poppy’s eyes danced from side to side. “Uh…”

  “Sorry—didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  “Does it have anything to do with how you got this black-and-blue golf ball on the end of your chin?”

  “Actually, there is a connection.” I gave her the highlights of how I’d gotten myself to the point of having the shit kicked out of me.

  “Fucking p
rick. I want to kick his ass. Do you know his name?”

  “Snake.”

  “I know what he is, but I want to know who he is. I have some friends in a biker gang who could do some real damage if I ask them nicely.”

  We traded points for a minute, but I told her that Brook and the DA’s office were now in control of the entire case.

  “Did you get paid for your services rendered?”

  “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

  Her face was blank. “It can be, if you want it to be.”

  “I got paid a lot of money, so I’m good.”

  She smiled. “Can I tell everyone in the bar that you’re buying everyone a round?”

  I held up a hand. “I didn’t get paid that much.”

  “Damn. Always wanted to do that.”

  She asked if I wanted my Knob Creek on ice. I pointed at my jaw. “Hairline fracture. Neat, please.”

  She cringed while pouring me my first of what might be many drinks. If a taxi was required to pick up Mackenzie later, so be it.

  Now that would be a real classy move, Ozzie. Tap the brakes, will you?

  I sighed and then sipped my drink. In the battle of fudge sundaes versus caramel sundaes, I went with caramel every time. Knob Creek was my liquid caramel sundae.

  After helping a few other customers, Poppy swung back around. “You need some food in you. What looked good on the menu?”

  “I’m hungry for everything, but I’ll go with something gluttonous cheese fries.”

  She put two hands on the counter, leaned in closer. “Did you know a local high-school science class determined that there were nineteen hundred calories in a single order of our famous cheese fries?”

  “Works for me.” I raised my glass, taking another soothing sip.

  “Never thought I’d hear the day when Ozzie Novak, the king of do-right and discipline, would let his six-pack turn into flab.”

  “Do-wrong. That’s my new name,” I corrected her.

  She reached over and touched my hand. “You okay? Something going on with Nicole?”

  Another sigh.

  “Bad timing, I can tell. I didn’t mean to razz you. I’ll get your cheese fries.”

  “Hold up. Can’t eat cheese fries.” I pointed at my jaw. “Not unless you put them in a blender.”

  She cackled out a laugh, even smacked her hand on the counter. I think she did all of that to get me in a better mood. It kind of worked. Poppy went on about her business, leaving me with my drink and my thoughts.

  Where did they go? To Nicole, of course. The look on her face when I’d opened my office door and she’d quickly pieced together what was going on. I hadn’t thought my heart could shatter again. But it had—right at that very moment.

  Nicole’s mind had gone straight to the worst possible conclusion. Whose wouldn’t? The scene couldn’t have been any fucking worse. I mean, Rosie and I looked like a couple of horny teenagers who’d snuck into the garage to mess around. I was furious at myself. Disappointed.

  I tried my best to rationalize my actions—to make me feel like I wasn’t a complete bum. After all, I had pushed back against Rosie’s sexual moves every time. Yeah, I’d been tempted, but I’d pushed back. That counted for something, right?

  Not really. I sucked.

  I thought about me and Nicole in spy mode, our covert operation to get pictures of Earl cheating with his latest blond bimbo. We’d ended up in bed ourselves. It was just like the old days. Something fun and exciting had unexpectedly led us to a romantic interlude. Our time in that hotel room was everything I could have hoped for. Nicole was the same fun-loving woman. Cute and sexy at the same time, but serious in her passion for me. Very serious. For a brief moment in bed with her, I’d wondered if she was doing that just to win me back, like she had to win the trophy. But that feeling was swept away as fast as she’d draped her body on top of me, kissing me like she had for all of these years. For those few minutes, I’d lost myself in Nicole. It had made my heart soar.

  I took in a breath and searched my deepest thoughts, ones that I could barely reach, rarely wanted to reach. And I felt that pit of resentment, camouflaged but always lurking.

  If you don’t recognize something in your life, does it really exist?

  The emotions began to surface, and I gripped the tumbler tighter. I hated what Nicole had done to our marriage, to my life. She’d so easily thrown it aside without even attempting to dig deeper, to find out the root cause of what was bothering her. She’d seen a guy, screwed a guy, and then tossed me to the curb with cruelty I didn’t think she possessed. Part of me wondered how I could ever entertain the idea of reconciliation.

  When our lives were nearly taken by that same maniacal person who’d robbed me of my life with Nicole, she’d switched gears. She admitted being weak for being so easily enticed by his gifts and adoration, and had apologized to me many times over.

  Time passed. I’d kept my demons at bay by focusing my attention and love on Mackenzie. She was pure joy.

  Then Rosie came along at just the wrong time. Or could it have been anyone? Forget what Rosie did. It was me who had been spiteful, but was it enough to subconsciously railroad any hope of rekindling my relationship with Nicole? Did I even really want that to happen?

  All this introspection only led me to despise myself more. Too much emotion. Too much caring about shit when I didn’t even know what I really cared about anymore.

  I so wanted to share these thoughts with Nicole; she had been my confidante, my lover, my best friend. If she’d give me the time of day. She was pissed, hurt. Rightfully so. And that made my heart ache. I might have to give her some time to cool off before approaching her with my heartfelt turmoil.

  I tilted my head back and finished off drink number one. As I stared at myself in the mirror behind the rows of bottles, I caught a glimpse of someone walking behind me toward a back booth. He looked familiar. Long sideburns. Thick black-rimmed glasses. The way he carried himself in some sort of self-righteous manner.

  It was Dr. Copeland. I slid out of the barstool and walked toward his table.

  27

  Once the waitress finished her introduction and moved aside, it was just me standing there. Dr. Copeland was alone. Well, he had some type of tablet with him. His eyes were focused on the screen as he tapped his fingers across it.

  I cleared my throat.

  He glanced upward and returned my gaze with a blank expression. Without invitation, I slipped into the booth opposite of him. “Dr. Copeland,” I said, “it’s been a while.”

  His puny chest lifted as he took in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. “Ozzie Novak.” He nodded, twisted his body to put an arm on his seat, trying to act like my presence didn’t mean a thing to him. Mr. Casual.

  Mr. Full-of-Himself. As usual.

  “I heard about what happened to Novak and Novak. What a shame.” His snooty nature caused my hackles to raise. I was getting flashbacks to my time in his class, when he’d demeaned me to no end.

  I couldn’t help but wonder how Rosie had dealt with the inevitable flashbacks from her assault at the hands of Dr. Copeland and his minions. Gang rape. I could feel my chest burning as acid tickled the back of my throat.

  Why are you doing this, Ozzie? Why do you give a shit anymore what had happened to Rosie?

  Because I’m pissed, and you, Dr. Copeland, are gonna make me feel better.

  “Something is on your mind, Ozzie. I can see it. More remorse, I would imagine, even after all these years.”

  I shook my head, looked off toward the bar. I should leave this table. Right now. Start focusing on rebuilding my life the right way. Reach out to Nicole. Put it all on the table, be transparent with my heart. Maybe that would spark something good between us again, both of us willing to put it in the past and move forward in better ways. With Mackenzie at our sides.

  “Don’t waste my time, boy.”

  My fist connected with the table, rattling silverware. The doctor flinched.


  I would have said I was sorry for the outburst, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t even sure it was all directed at him. But he was sitting right in front of me. And there had to be a reason for that.

  “I’ve come to terms with what I did many years ago, Doc. And I’m okay with it. I’m not sure you’ve gotten past it, by the tone of your voice.”

  He waved a hand across his face. “You, your buddies, your little break-and-shake, don’t exist in my mind.”

  He was lying, I could see. That event had changed many lives. After hearing about a similar prank by some older kids at a party, a couple of buddies and I broke into Copeland’s house when he wasn’t home. We nailed some of his living-room furniture to the ceiling. In his bedroom, we applied generous amounts of shredded newspaper, flour, and petroleum jelly under his sheets, comforter, duvet, inside the pillowcases, on his chair, inside his dresser drawers. Anywhere and everywhere that would make his life suck.

  After scooting out of the house undetected, Jake, Mason, and I celebrated the entire night, bouncing from club to club and finishing up with a burger at Players. From there we took a walk across campus before ending up back at our apartment as the sun rose.

  We were met by cops and Dr. Copeland. Apparently, he had security cameras installed. The situation got messy and complicated. Thankfully, my esteemed father, a noteworthy attorney and a rather grandiose speaker himself, was able to have the charges dropped to a misdemeanor. But he recommended we all change schools and get a fresh start.

  So, I transferred to Cal-Berkley and met the woman who had changed my life. Forever. Almost.

  A smile slowly tugged at the edges of Copeland’s lips. “How can I carry bitterness for something I don’t recall? I could care less, believe me. You are about as significant as a gnat. Although, right now, you are annoying. Could you leave me be, and allow me to read my latest published white paper?”

  Ever the snob. That had always seemed to be his life’s goal. How he could garner more praise, win more trophies than all of his colleagues, all the while chopping everyone else down to nothing.