Kill Shot by J. D. Faver Page A

do you know all this stuff, Aida,” Oz asked. “You’re amazing.”
    Aida laughed. “I Googled her.”
    Micki grimaced. “And Laurel Jobe was hugging some guy in public? Maybe it was innocent. Maybe he’s her brother? They both have brown hair.”
    “Wrong,” Aida said. “He has brown hair. Hers is Sable Glow number three from the C’est Vous Salon.
    “You didn’t find that on Google,” Micki accused.
    “I have my ways,” Aida replied.
    Micki raised her brows. “Who would have thought that my simple little photo shoot would stir up so much trouble?”
    Oz glanced at her, then caught Vinnie’s eye. “There’s always trouble when you’re involved, Micki.”
    Vinnie snickered.
    Micki crossed her arms over her chest and skewered them with her gaze. “It could be completely innocent. If you guys go poking into this Jobe lady’s business there’s no telling what’ll happen. It might cause an otherwise happy family to split up.”
    “Otherwise happy women don’t need an outside man to keep them company,” Oz said positively.
    “Oh, I don’t know,” Aida said. “One for the money and one for the honey.”
    Oz turned to gaze at her with raised eyebrows.
    “Oh, grow up, Oz man,” Aida said. “You’re dating a stripper, for Crissake!”
    Oz frowned at Micki and ran his fingers through his thick hair. “I’m not dating a...a dancer any longer.”
    Micki felt a twinge of relief over hearing him admit it in public.
    “Good,” Aida said. “A nice boy like you could get some terrible disease from all those lap dances.”
    Vinnie snorted in laughter and Oz turned a shade of red Micki had never seen before.
    #
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Oz dropped Vinnie by his car and took Micki to a drive through restaurant. At the apartment, Micki spread their fare on the coffee table. She scooted over so Oz could join her on the sofa.
    “Tough couple of days.” She reached for her hamburger.
    “Understatement. Major understatement.” Oz bit into his burger.
    “You nabbed an armed fugitive in the restaurant last night and a dead man floats to the surface of the lake today. Is this what your life is all about now?”
    “Pretty much.”
    “Also, the woman in the park was Laurel Jobe and the sniper was on top of one of the Jobe buildings. Is that a coincidence?”
    He snorted. “I don’t believe in coincidence.”
    Micki turned sideways to curl her legs under her, giving Oz the benefit of her double-barrel stare. “And when were you going to mention to me that your Lieutenant Qualls wants to transfer you to Homicide?”
    Oz stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth, she suspected to preclude an immediate answer.
    “Homicide, Oz, as in death.” She gave him total silence, willing to wait him out.
    “It’s a promotion, Micki,” he said. “The Lieutenant encouraged me to study for the Sergeant’s exam. I passed and he thinks I’ve got what it takes.”
    Micki continued to give him the stare.
    Oz shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s no more dangerous than being a street cop. In fact it may be less so.”
    “I’m not buying it.”
    He grinned his one-sided grin. “It sounds like you give a damn what happens to me.”
    Micki slammed her hamburger back down on the table. “Well, of course I do. Don’t be an idiot.”
    “In that case, I’ll set your mind at ease and let you know that, statistically there are far fewer deaths and injuries among homicide cops than street cops.”
    Micki rolled her eyes. “You invented that statistic!” She stabbed a French fry into ketchup and bit it viciously.
    Oz removed a dab of ketchup from her chin with his thumb and licked it off.
    Micki caught her breath. Oz could turn the simplest thing into a sexual act. The next sentence she’d planned to say faded from her thoughts as her anger ebbed away to be replaced by longing. She was unable to protest when he reached for her and kissed her tenderly.
    “I’m flattered that you’re worried about me, Micki.”
    He kissed her