I hand them over to Ozzie, who studies them carefully. When he gets to the second one, he frowns and turns it around, holding it up so I can see it. “Recognize this one?”
All I can see is a hunched-over figure in a dark coat with a shiny head. His dome is reflecting the light coming from the street lamp nearby.
“Not really.” I shrug, feeling like I should apologize. I didn’t realize there was going to be a quiz.
Ozzie flips it around and stares at it a few more seconds. “I think this is Doucet.”
Toni holds her hand out for it, and Ozzie slides it over the table to her.
“Who’s Doucet?” I ask.
Toni nods. “I agree. There are several points of likeness. Shoulder width, stature. Bald head, of course.”
Ozzie sighs, looking at me with what appears to be regret. “David Doucet is the man who pulled the gun on us at the bar.”
A shiver passes through my body and my mouth goes suddenly dry. “David Doucet is the shooter?” His very name strikes fear into my heart.
“Yes. He’s the brother of Guy Doucet, the one who runs the show in this part of town.”
“So you think he’s the one talking about Petit Rouge?” Toni asks.
“Could be.” Ozzie gestures at Toni. “What else you got from him?”
She shrugs. “I could go listen again. Maybe now that I know who the voice belongs to, some of the things he said will make more sense.”
“Yeah, why don’t you do that. Tomorrow.” He looks at me. “What else do you have on arrivals and departures?”
“Let’s see . . . I have these guys all coming in,”—I pass over my screenshots—“but only the first four came back out. The last ones to arrive stayed for as long as the tape ran.”
“And when did the recording stop?”
I look at my last page of notes. “Two-fourteen in the morning.”
Ozzie turns his attention to Toni. “Pull more of the tape from the Parrot. I want to see until six in the morning.”
“You got it.” She moves to stand.
“Tomorrow. You’ve done enough today.”
“Sure, no problem.” Toni sits back down.
“Anything else I should know about?” He looks around the table.
“Bought some tackle today,” Lucky says.
“And?”
“And things aren’t adding up over there, literally and figuratively.”
“How so?”
Lucky scratches his head. “I’m not exactly sure.” His expression is pained as he crosses his arms over his chest. “They have the typical expenses of a retail business that also has a service aspect to what they do.” He shrugs. “They sell products and they also repair marine engines, usually off site. They have contractors who do some jobs for them, both on and off site. They also pay for services done on and off site by other vendors as a result of the work done by the contractors. But if you run through their financial reports, you see they have an inordinate amount of money being spent in areas that should just be a minor percent of their total business expenses.”
“Such as?” Ozzie has all his attention on Lucky, as do Toni and I.
“Well, take, for example, their hazardous waste disposal. They have used oil they have to get rid of when they drain it from marine engines. Most places pay to have it picked up and treated. No big deal. So does Blue Marine. Problem is, that service should be less than one percent of their total expenses. For Blue Marine? It’s at almost ten percent.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Ozzie looks pissed.
“I know. And there’s more. The janitorial service that’s supposed to be worth another ten percent? I went into the store. There’re dust bunnies everywhere. The bathrooms haven’t been touched in weeks. Employees who work in the store say that the garbage gets emptied and they see someone there at night once in a while, but for what they’re paying, everything should be sparkling. They could practically pay a person to be there full-time with what they’ve spent this year.”
“What else?”
“The list goes on and on. Re-machined parts, returns, one-off services—you name it; their numbers are whack.”
“So what’s our next step?” Ozzie leans back in his chair.
Lucky unfolds his arms and put his hands on the table, palms down. “I need to contact these providers and see what’s up. If it’s just a matter of a terrible business manager who doesn’t know how to shop around, then fine. We can fix that. But I’m afraid it’s something more.” He shakes his head with disappointment. “You know how hard it is to prove embezzlement without a confession.”
“Well, Blue Marine is worried it’s something more too. That’s why they hired us. Talk to the service providers, and let me know what you find out. If we need a confession after all is said and done, we’ll get one. Just get me the evidence to bring to the conversation.”
“You got it. You want me on this now?”
“No, tomorrow. Everyone’s done for the day.” Ozzie stands. “You guys can take off. I’m sure Dev and Thibault will be at the hospital for at least a couple hours. We’ll pick this up tomorrow at eight.”
All the chairs scrape back at the same time as we get to our feet.
“You’re here with me tonight,” he says, looking at me. He’s talking like my boss, but the look in his eye is coming from my lover. I think Jenny was right; he has been thinking about having sex with me. A whole other kind of shiver is running through me now.
“You mind if I talk to you in private for a minute?” Toni asks him. I get the impression she’s specifically not looking at me, even though she wants to. I’m immediately suspicious.
“Sure. I’ll walk you out.”
I pretend to be busy with paperwork as they all leave the kitchen together.
Felix comes running through the kitchen and jumps up on my lap, trying to reach my chin for a lick attack.
“Where have you been, you little rascal?”
Sahara comes walking into the room behind him, ambling over to sit next to my chair. I scratch her behind the ears a little before I get up and put Felix on the floor. “So, what up, dogs?” I giggle at myself. Lame humor is my specialty. “Have a fun day today smelling each other’s butts and eating the same meal you eat every day?”
They both look up at me with stars in their eyes.
“I’m not giving you any treats. Don’t look at me like that.”
Felix whines.
“Okay, maybe a little treat.” I walk over to the pantry and step inside, searching the shelves. It’s kind of fascinating seeing inside the heart of Ozzie’s kitchen. Everything is lined up with labels pointing out. Canned goods are in one section, boxed goods in another, arranged so that dinner foods and cereals are not together.
I hear noises outside the pantry door that I assume are the dogs messing around, but then I freeze when voices come too, entering the kitchen from the sword room.
“Just let me grab this folder, and I’ll walk you out,” Ozzie says.
“We might as well talk here,” says Toni, sounding frustrated. “The warehouse has too many ears.”
“So talk. What’s on your mind?”
“I just don’t want her in my business.”
I’m guessing I’m the her she doesn’t want around.
“I understand, but I want to assure you that you have nothing to worry about.”
She snorts her disbelief. “Listen, I know you want to think you’re being third-party removed and all that, but you’re not. Everyone knows you’re into her.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Please. It’s obvious. You set her up on a ninety-day probation and the next day buy her a company car? You move her into your apartment? Jesus, Oz, why don’t you go buy a fucking ring and ask her to marry you already.”
“That’s out of line.” Ozzie sounds angry.