Page 46 of The Alibi Club

“It’s a nice place.” Cliff added, “But it’s crawling with bored cops. Serves as a powerful deterrent.”

Melvyn snorted a laugh. “Anyways, so I am coming for a visit.”

Cliff retorted, “I don’t think I’ll be in town.”

Silence and then a long slow sigh. “I didn’t mention when.”

Cliff clenched his jaw. Not now, not now.

A long silence. Melvyn continued, “You can make time for me, right, Cliff? We can play some eight-ball, and have a catch up?”

Cliff closed his eyes and tried to think. Melvyn Ott was going to call in his favor, no doubt. When he finally replied, Cliff said, “Anything for a friend, Melvyn.”

“Wonderful. I’ll be in touch. Soon.”

The line went dead.

Cliff sat there unmoving, trying to figure out exactly how he was going to handle his ex-crew mate. Melvyn Ott was not going on the straight and narrow. He was a career criminal and by all accounts he was getting more violent. Cliff was a thief. A con man. He did slick and quiet jobs. Get in, get out, nobody gets hurt. But that was not the way of Melvyn Ott.

Cliff hadn’t rolled over on Melvyn. He hadn’t given him up from the heist they did together; that’s the kind of thing that can get an ex-con murdered. However, Cliff did tell detectives he thought Melvyn Ott was dangerous and violent. Ott had been part of another crew that pulled off a sloppy bank job in Hacienda Heights where Ott had shot and wounded a teller just for the fun of it. Case was never solved, but Ott admitted the truth to Cliff as a show of trust. Cliff had not betrayed that trust, but he did owe Ott for saving him from being savagely beaten by a volatile gang of neo-Nazis in the joint. He owed him. But he didn’t owe him that big.

If Ott did come to call in his favor, Cliff had to set boundaries, manage his expectations. He was not willing to sacrifice his freedom because Melvyn Ott demanded fealty.

If Ott was going to force his hand, Cliff had to find a way to handle him.

He recalled the advice Dez had given him concerning the man.

Find a way to send him back to prison for good.

The alternative—the one that kept him breathing and upright, with all his various body parts firmly attached—meant betraying his dream of staying clean and giving in to his darker impulses. It meant staying the man he already was.

It would be too easy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Never Too Careful

JAMIE

“Why am I wearing a glorified bathrobe?” Derick Hampton genuinely questioned as he sat on a gym mat, arms crossed, his hair perfect, his mood nonplussed. He looked to Jamie for an explanation. She sat next to him in a matching bathrobe. Each had a bright blue sash cinched at the waist.

“It’s called a gi, pronounced ghee, like the clarified butter, and it’s the traditional garb of the jiujitsu warrior,” Jamie explained, while she tied her hair up in a ponytail. “Come on, we’re going to learn some lifesaving moves in case I’m attacked again by a deranged killer.”

“Jiujitsu of all things,” Derick muttered, and crossed his arms. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I’ll take you to sushi after this,” Jamie offered. “Shhh, here he comes.”

A massive man with shoulders the size of bowling balls entered the room. He was handsome with dark wavy hair, a Freddie Mercury mustache, a heavy brow, and intense eyes that were immediately offset by his toothy smile. He was barefoot and dressed in a white gi with a black sash.

Jamie noticed Derick perk up at the sight of the instructor.

“Cute, if you’re into caveman types. Maybe this won’t be all bad,” Derick mumbled.

The instructor stood at the center of the gym with his arms akimbo, self-assurance radiating off him. “Hi, I am Joe Sousa. Welcome to jiujitsu, a martial art and combat sport that focuses on grappling and ground combat. I know a lot of you are here today to learn self-defense. So, today we’re going to teach you how to subdue an attacker with a move called Straight Armlock from Guard.”

“Oh, right to the good stuff.” Jamie felt something release in her chest. She felt better already. If there was a chance Melvyn Ott was coming after her, she had to prepare. She’d bought pepper spray for her purse, an alarm for her key chain, and signed up for a self-defense class to learn actual ways to defend herself. If nothing else, taking these measures made her feel slightly more in control of the situation. But that was her foolish head talking. Her gut told her she would sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future. Crandall had promised her some protective detail, but there was a lag between when they could start. So, for the next few days, she was on her own.

“You.” Instructor Joe pointed to Derick. “Would you mind helping me demonstrate?”