ON The Run (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 6) (Redemption Thriller Series 18)

by John W. Mefford

  I came back to the real world and realized he’d ignored my question about Harvey.

  “What happened between Nicole and this Harvey guy?”

  “So, she never told you anything?”

  Was he trying to piss me off? “No.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Last year at the conference, I spotted Harvey pawing at her.”

  “Pawing, as in groping or physically hurting her? I need more details, Mitch.” The timbre in my voice had a shake to it.

  “Pawing. Trying to grab her against her will. I saw her smack him across the face, and I knew she had handled it.”

  He didn’t jump in to help out? “Wait—you saw it and did nothing?”

  “Hold on, Mr. White Knight. I didn’t get involved because Harvey ran off crying.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, ‘Oh.’ But this year, he was trying to get close to her again.”

  “More pawing?”

  “He was going with the suave routine. But he was awkward. She finally gave him the look, like she was about to lash out and smack him again. He got the picture and moped away.” He started typing on his keyboard again.

  “Another suspect, you think?”

  “It’s hard to make the leap to what we’re talking about,” he said, glancing at me before returning to the monitor. “But we’re trying to narrow things down from hundreds of possible suspects to a few.”

  I blew out a breath, scratched the back of my head. It was an odd sensation to feel my fingernails against my scalp.

  “Now…” He turned and looked at me. “We’ll talk about how to deal with each of these three here in a moment—Drake, Elsa, Harvey—but I’m curious about that photo the detective showed you. The blurred image of the…you know, the man and Nicole on the bridge.”

  The door behind me flew open.

  “Do you ever plan to respond to my fucking text?”

  I looked at Mitch. His eyes were wide, but his jaw was also rigid. I slowly turned around.

  “Hi, Cassie.”

  “Ozzie? Oh my God.” I got to my feet just as she hugged me.

  This night might not ever end.

  19

  I awoke to a beam of sun piercing my eye. I turned over, put a pillow on my head. I replayed the scene from the night before. Cassie was, at first, thrilled to see me. She had lots of questions about my hair and appearance. Thankfully, though, her questions came at me so quickly I never had a chance to answer a single one. She was already on to the next one. Then, she got this look in her eye. I’d call it a nostalgic look. She took me by both arms—I could imagine her holding one of her kids in the same way—and said, “It’s just so damn good to see you, Ozzie. You and Nicole were such dear friends back in school. I know Mr. Workaholic over here said something about running into her at one of his conferences, but we haven’t all sat down and visited in years. So, you still haven’t told me what brings you to Bristol, in the middle of the night, no less?”

  “I, well, uh…”

  Mitch jumped out of his seat, hooked an arm around his wife’s shoulders, saying, “It’s much too late to get into this now. Let’s give Ozzie some peace and quiet.” The door shut a second later, and I was left alone in the cottage. I found a futon in the one bedroom, sheets and a blanket in the bathroom closet. I eventually fell asleep, but it took a while.

  Just like last night, I wondered how Mitch had characterized my visit to Cassie almost as much as I wondered if they’d been able to speak without fighting. I knew Cassie could be a bit of a pistol—I’d seen her go off on a couple of rude cabbies in San Francisco in college—but to those she cared about, she was always nice and affable. Maybe Mitch was right: kids changed everything.

  My phone buzzed on the side table. I picked it up and wiped my eyes. I saw a one-word text. Rainbow

  That was the sign from Tito. I threw off the covers and put my feet on the floor. My heart rate had gone from a state of sleep to a state of euphoric anxiety. I wanted to find out what was going on, and since Tito had texted from the burner phone I’d given him, all should be clear for me to call him.

  Unless it was a setup. Not by him. Maybe Valentine had somehow forced Tito’s hand. I couldn’t imagine how he’d know about the burner phone.

  My connection with Mackenzie outweighed the risks, and I punched up the number and waited, my heart thumping like a man whose life couldn’t go on until he spoke to his daughter.

  “Hey, Ozzie.”

  “Tito, is everything okay?”

  A pause.

  “What?”

  “It’s just Mackenzie. She woke up twice last night calling out your name, crying. I think she was still asleep. It was the strangest thing. When I asked how she was doing over breakfast, she was somber, not saying much.”

  I could feel the edges of my heart being chipped away. “I want to talk to her. Please.”

  “No problem. That’s why I sent you the signal. But I haven’t told her what I was doing because I didn’t know where you were or what had happened since you left.”

  “Good idea. Thanks for taking care of her, Tito. I’m not sure how I can really repay the favor, but…” Tears welled in my eyes.

  “Dude, you don’t have to say anything. She’s a jewel. And what you’re doing… Let’s just say that it has to be done. For Nicole, for you, and for Mackenzie.”

  Damn, what a friend.

  “Hold on a second,” he said.

  I heard some mumbling and then a loud scream.

  “Dad, Dad, is that really you?”

  Fireworks exploded in my chest. “Hi, sweet pea. How’s my beautiful daughter doing?”

  There was a pause. Then I heard a few sniffles.

  “Mackenzie. It’s okay. I’m here, and I love you.”

  More sniffles. “I love you too, Dad. I just miss you.”

  “I miss you more.”

  I waited a second, but she didn’t follow my lead and start acting silly—one of the trademarks of our relationship.

  “Come on, Dad. This is serious.”

  I’d never heard her use those terms. I gripped the phone a little harder. “I’m not trying to make light of anything.”

  “Dad, I miss Nicole.”

  It felt like someone had split open my chest and paddled my heart. “I do too, Mackenzie. There are some things about our lives we can’t predict.”

  “Kids at school are saying things, though.”

  “What sort of things?”

  Another bit of silence, although I thought I picked up Tito’s voice. I couldn’t hear his words, but his tone sounded encouraging. “You can tell me, Mackenzie.”

  “They’re saying that you killed Nicole. I told them they’re a bunch of liars.”

  My heart dropped to the floor. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with any of this, Mackenzie.”

  “They said you’re a criminal and that you ran away because you’re guilty. I told them—” She stopped short.

  “Told them what, Mackenzie?”

  Her intensity pulled back. “I said a bad word.”

  I wasn’t sure which words she knew. And even if her vocabulary had expanded, it was unlikely she knew what they meant. “What did you say?”

  “You promise not to get mad?”

  “None of us are perfect. You can tell me.”

  “I said they were full of shit.”

  It was as though I’d gone through a time warp, and Mackenzie was suddenly sixteen, talking trash about the mean girls at school. Part of me wanted to laugh; the rest of me cringed. “Yeah, you probably should avoid saying those types of words, but I understand why you’re upset.”

  “Would you let someone get away with saying bad things about Uncle Tobin or Grandmother Juliet?” That grandmother name didn’t exactly roll off her tongue. Needed another name for her. Then again, Mom was never around much. I wasn’t even sure what she and Tobin knew about my disappearance. Hopefully it wouldn’t matter, and I could explain everything after I returned to Austin.

>   “No, I probably wouldn’t.” I needed to change the vibe of our call. “So, anything cool going on at school?”

  “They asked me to paint the set for the spring play.”

  “Wow, that’s neat. What’s the play?”

  “Harry Potter.”

  “Are you serious? You’re going to do awesome.”

  “Maybe.”

  My humble daughter.

  “Dad, I miss you. A lot. When are you coming home?”

  “Soon, sweet pea.”

  “Uncle Tito tells me you’re doing work. Can you tell me where you are?”

  “I’ll tell you all about my adventures when I get home. Sound like a plan?”

  “Yeah. Well, I got to go brush my teeth for school. Love you.”

  “Love you, sweet pea.”

  The phone went dead a second later. I felt just as dead, except for the tears that were rolling down my face.

  20

  A door creaked open from the front of the cottage.

  “Hey, Ozzie.”

  Crap. I grabbed my jeans and put them on in quick order just as Cassie got to the bedroom door.

  “Hey, Cassie. What’s up?”

  Her eyes went to my chest for a quick second. I hadn’t had time to put on my T-shirt. I shoved a hand in my pocket, scratched my head—again, I was expecting more hair.

  She finally met my eyes with a warm grin. “I’m cooking breakfast. Care to join the rest of the family?”

  “Uh…” I looked around the small room, debating how to respond. I was in the dark on what exactly Mitch had shared with her. I wanted to maintain continuity in the story he’d told her. Of course, my concern was twofold: keep her and the kids out of danger, and try to keep my presence as concealed as possible.

  “You’re not hungry?” She had a dish towel draped over her shoulder. She used it to wipe something from her cheek. “Kids have been flinging food. Anyway, I’m making pancakes, bacon, and fruit.”

  My stomach was growling. “Maybe. Is Mitch around?”

  “He had to run an errand. Should be back shortly. I need to run back into the house before Luthor, our four-year-old, decides to play football with his brother. You know, using his brother as a football.”

  She seemed busy with kid duties. I could probably grab a quick breakfast and then scoot back out to the cottage. “I’ll be right in.”

  “Sounds good.” She turned and began to walk out. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Feel free to keep your shirt off.” She winked and walked out the door.

  I didn’t move. Had Cassie just hit on me? Oh, God, how bizarre can this situation get? I’d finally found a sane, reasonable person I could trust to help me solve the rambling mystery that was my life now—that person being Mitch. And now Cassie, his wife and also an old friend of mine, was giving me this vibe that I’d never had from her before. It’s been eight years, Oz. Things change. You know that more than anyone.

  While I’d gotten the strong sense that their marriage was a little shaky—Mitch hadn’t exactly been subtle—I wasn’t expecting to be playing the role of Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate.

  I threw on my T-shirt and searched for my shoes. Pillows and extra blankets were scattered everywhere. I walked to the other side of the futon and noticed a door in the corner. Was it a closet or some other small room? Call me Mr. Curious…I grabbed the knob and tried to open it. The door was locked. Well, what was behind that door was really none of my business. And did I really need something else to steal my attention?

  I found my shoes and ambled up to the house, walked into the kitchen. The oldest boy, Luthor, zoomed by me while holding some type of spaceship and making a futuristic sound. He disappeared into another room before I could say hello.

  “Luthor’s into Star Wars,” Cassie said, flipping a pancake over at the stove. “Can you believe it? All these years later, that franchise just keeps on cranking out new movies.”

  “Crazy.” I spotted a sleeping baby in a carrier sitting on the island. The carrier was rocking back and forth on its own. Technology took a lot of the tasks out of parenting, it seemed. From what I could see so far, however, Cassie needed the freedom.

  Luthor made another pass through the kitchen, still lost in his imaginative Star Wars world.

  “Hey, Luthor, who are you trying to be?” I asked, hands on my knees.

  He dipped the spaceship under my chin, firing off some type of mock-laser beams and kept marching.

  “Luthor, don’t be rude to our guest. Can you at least say hi?”

  I thought I heard the boy yelling something from afar.

  She brought a plate of pancakes over to the table. “He said hi,” she said, knowing I didn’t hear all that well. “He’s always lost in his own creative world.”

  It just hit me: Cassie was a creative. I’d seen some of her graphic-artist work back in college. Even I had recognized her unbelievable talent. She was a natural, somewhat like what I’d seen out of Mackenzie and her artwork.

  I recalled Cassie saying that she hoped to work her way into creating animated movies at Pixar or a similar studio. Instead, though, she put those plans aside and married Mitch right out of school and moved to the East Coast. It wasn’t as though she had been pushed—they both had been enamored with each other, as if their goals were completely aligned. She could always pick up her dream a little later in life, or perhaps alter the dream-job scenario a bit. That was what she’d said. She probably had believed it too.

  Now, she had two kids, a bunch of pets, and a marriage that neither she nor Mitch appeared to be enjoying. And here I was, walking right into the middle of their circus.

  As I pulled out a chair, two miniature dogs, both dachshunds, scrambled through the kitchen, one chasing the other. The lead dachshund had some type of toy in his mouth.

  “Mo, Curly, get out of here, right now!” Cassie ordered. They ran off, but I wasn’t sure they did so based upon Cassie’s orders.

  “Mo and Curly, huh?”

  “Don’t you recall that Mitch was a big fan of the Three Stooges?”

  Didn’t spark a memory, but I wanted to find some common ground that didn’t involve my bare chest. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.” I took a bite of bacon and then snapped off a laugh. “So is your cat named Larry?”

  She’d just put her coffee pot against the mug at my place setting, and she froze for a second, her eyes looking at me. “How did you guess?”

  Was she being sarcastic? I couldn’t tell, because she certainly had a serious look on her face.

  “So…where is Larry?” I glanced around the floor.

  “Probably peeing on Rex’s rocking chair,” she said, pouring my coffee, letting out a long sigh.

  I looked at the baby, who was still sleeping peacefully. Rex and Luthor. That was almost too close to Lex Luthor, the villain from Superman. Asking a parent about their kids’ names was probably crossing the line in the world of parentville. So, I looked for another topic.

  “Have you and Mitch been on any cool vacations recently?”

  She brought over a bowl of fruit, held up a finger. “Luthor, breakfast is ready.” She waited for a response, but I heard nothing. She sat across from me, sipped her coffee, and stared for a second.

  “Vacations?” I asked again, scooping a spoonful of blueberries and strawberries onto my plate and downing two bites. I could instantly feel the boost, even if it was in my head. I looked up. She was just staring at me, her hands cupping the warm mug.

  “Mitch says you’re in trouble.”

  A line of perspiration down the spine of my back. “Eh…” I looked out the back door for Mitch’s car. It wasn’t there.

  “I know about Nicole.”

  I’d just bit into another piece of bacon, and I froze mid-chew. I didn’t know how to respond. I had no clue what Mitch had told her or if she’d learned something on her own.

  “It’s a big loss. I love Nicole.” My eyes dropped to my plate for a second. Suddenly, I wasn’t very hungry. �
��I guess I should say ‘loved.’”

  “I’m sorry, Oz. I didn’t know how to bring it up. I thought you might. But she was a great girl. One of my best friends in college. We just lost touch. Well, I guess she and Mitch ran into each other at the conference a few times.”

  “Yeah, well, life happens.”

  Actually, Oz, in this case, death happens…to your soulmate, no less. Murder. Conspiracy. You need to find this person. Quit fucking around, and get on it.

  I closed my eyes for a second. “Do you know when Mitch will be home?”

  She sighed. “Not soon enough,” she said, leaning back. She could relax for only a moment. The baby started crying. She pushed off the table, shuffled over to the baby carrier, and picked up little Rex. His tuft of red hair was spiked, and his face was flushing to match it. She began to bounce up and down with him in her arms. She opened her lips, but Luthor raced in front of her, this time holding a different spaceship.

  “Luthor, I told you to come eat breakfast.”

  He didn’t acknowledge her or stop. As he exited, the dogs barked and loped through the kitchen. The circus analogy came to my mind again. It was like an orchestrated circus performance. We just needed the Cat named Larry to jump through a hoop of fire.

  “Goddammit!” Cassie brought a hand to her face as tears welled in her eyes.

  I sprung to my feet, ready to jump in and help out. “Do you want me to hold little Rex?” I asked, extending my arms as I moved closer.

  Before I knew what was going on, Cassie grabbed the back of my head, pulled me to her, and kissed me on the lips.

  The back door opened. “Ozzie.”

  I gently pushed myself away from Cassie, wiping my lips. “Mitch,” I said, turning in his direction. “I…” My neck, face, maybe my entire torso, went flush.

  He nudged his head toward the outside. “We need to talk.”