Diners, Dives & Dead Ends (12 page)

“Get out.”

I snatched the phone from my
pocket and assured Roxy I was all right.  Apparently, my sweatshirt muffled the
noise so much, she hadn’t heard any particulars of the conversation, so I gave
her the Cliffs notes version and hung up.

I turned on all the lights
and huddled beneath my blanket.  BJ knew everything about me.  My dysfunctional
family dynamic, my job, my house, probably even my favorite breakfast cereal. 
Who was this guy?  Finding that out was at the top of my short list.  If I
could find out who he was, maybe I could get the upper hand.  Divert him until
I found Ax.  Knowledge was power and I’d had precious little in this whole
thing, that was for freaking sure.  And the fact that every time BJ came near
me my heart beat a little faster—well, I’d deal with that later.

The next morning I decided
against drinking a tankard of coffee, even though I was exhausted.  Last time
I’d done that, it hadn’t worked out so well. 

When I got into work I
greeted Jorge and Ray, who waved me at me with a spatula and mumbled a hello. 
Ma stood in the dining room filling salt shakers.  “Good morning, Ma.”

She stopped pouring and
looked me up and down.  “You look like ten miles of bad road, toots.”

“Thanks.”

“Didn’t get much sleep
again, huh?”

Roxy came out of the
bathroom.  She wore a short shepherdess dress and a schoolgirl tie.  “Jeez, you
look terrible.”

“That’s the general
consensus.”

She glanced at Ma.  “She got
another visit from BJ last night.”

“He broke in again?” Ma asked. 
“Oh my God, honey, did he hurt you?”

“No, he just wanted to
talk.”

“Talk about what, for God’s
sake?” Ma asked, hands on her hips.  “And why did he have to break in to do
that?  Hasn’t he ever heard of a goddamn telephone?”

“Wait until you hear this,”
Roxy said between chomps.

My cheeks felt hot.  “He
didn’t break in.”  My voice got quieter as I went on.  “I…let him in.”

Ma’s eyes widened.  “You let
him in?  Did you offer him a beer, too?”

“No, I didn’t offer him a
beer.  I just thought maybe I could get some information out of him.”

“And did you?” she asked.

I took a deep breath. 
“No.”  I walked around the counter and began rolling silverware into paper
napkins.

“Oh no you don’t.”  Ma
wrangled the fork out of my hand.  “Finish the story, Rose.  Why did he come to
your apartment in the first place?”

“He still thinks I have his
property.”  They waited for me to continue.  “And he told me to mind my own
business.  That’s all, I swear.” 

Roxy looked skeptical.  “Did
he say what would happen if you don’t mind your business?  Did he threaten
you?”

Totally.  “Not really,” I
lied.  I hated keeping things from them, but the last thing I wanted to do was
freak them out any more than they already were.

“Oh, if I could get my hands
on that man—I’d have socked him in the mouth, too,” Ma said. 

By then we had a few early
customers, so we quit talking and got down to business.  Ma manned the counter
while Roxy and I did our thing.  I tried to concentrate on my job, rather than
my problems.

When we hit our midmorning
slow down, I checked my phone.  Still no Axton.  But I had texts from Eric,
Sheila Graystone, Dane, and two from Kevin. 

I used the diner phone and
called Eric.  He answered on the first ring.  “I’ve got something.  When can
you get here?”

“What?  Did you decrypt the
hard drive?”  I twisted the old, curly tan phone cord around my finger.

“Yeah, I decrypted it, but I
still don’t know what it is.”

I wanted to leave work
immediately, but I needed the money.  Badly.  “I’ll be there a little after one.” 
Ma and Roxy wouldn’t mind if I skipped clean up for a good cause. 

I read Sheila’s text next. 
She wanted to meet at Starbucks.  Maybe she heard from Axton or thought of something
that might help me.  I texted her back and then called Dane.  I figured he’d be
in court and was surprised when he answered.

“Have you heard from Axton?”

“No,” I said.  “He’s still
missing.  But I checked out some bars from your list and filed a missing person
report.”

“I heard through the country
club grapevine the police interviewed Packard.”

Maybe that’s why Sheila
wanted to talk.  Was she upset the police questioned Pack?

“…get together?”

My eyes watered as I stifled
a yawn.  “What was that?”

He laughed.  “I said do you
want to get together this weekend?”

“How about tonight?  I was
going to check out a few more places on that list after I babysit my nephew.”

We discussed the details and
I got back to work. 

When one o’clock rolled
around, I told Ma about Eric’s phone call.

“Of course, toots.  Roxy and
I can handle clean up.”

I thanked her and gathered
my stuff together.  Roxy followed me outside.  When we reached my car, she stared
out at the traffic squinting her blue eyes against sun.  “Rose, I’m worried
about you.  This guy who keeps showing up at your apartment, he could be
dangerous.”

“I know.”

“I think you should stay
with me.  At least until you find Axton.”  Roxy valued her space and her
privacy almost more than anything else.  Growing up in foster care, she never
had a real home of her own.  Her apartment wasn’t much, but it was hers, and
the fact she offered to share it with me touched me deeply.

“Thanks,” I said as I opened
the car door, “but I’ll be all right.  Honest.”  I held up three fingers.

She snorted.  “Like you were
ever a Girl Scout.  I’ll meet you at Jacks’ house at six?”

“Yeah, and Dane’s going with
us to the cigar bar.”

She shook her head, her
shiny blue hair gliding over her shoulders.  “No cigar bar for me.  I have
plans later.”

“What kind of plans?”

She shrugged and walked back
into the diner.

Because I was so excited to
see what Eric had found on that hard drive, I blew through two red lights and
sped across Apple Tree Boulevard.  I snagged a spot in the campus parking lot
and practically ran to Blake Hall. 

When I burst through the
door of the IT office, Eric was alone.  He glanced up from the laptop and
blinked like an owl.

“What have you got?”

He waved me over.  “Pull up
a chair.”

I sat next to him and he
shifted the laptop toward me so I could see it better.  “What am I looking at?”

“A spreadsheet.  Although
the information was encrypted, first I had—”

I completely tuned him out
as I stared at a spreadsheet of one hundred twenty-seven names in alphabetical
order.  There were numbers and dates next to each.  “Oh my God, Eric, do you
know what this is?”

He frowned.  “I told you. 
It’s a spreadsheet.  Don’t you want to know how I broke the encryption?”

“No.”  I looked at him, my
eyes wide.  “This is a list of some of the most prominent people in
Huntingford.  The mayor, the chief of police…  Holy freaking cow.”

Eric leaned over and stared at
the screen.  “Oh.” 

“What do we think the
numbers mean?  Forty-five thousand, eighty-three thousand. Packard Graystone’s
name is on this list and his numbers add up to one hundred ninety-six thousand.”

“I have no idea.”

“How does this tie in with
Axton?” I asked, staring at the computer.

“I really don’t know.”

I rubbed my hands over my
eyes.  How did NorthStar Inc. come into play?  Or did it?  And where did BJ fit
in?   

Eric reached out and patted
my back.  “Hey, you okay?”

I shook my head.  From the
corner of my eye, I saw the door open.  Steve popped his head into the office,
his gaze darted from Eric to me. 

“Hey, Rose, what are you
doing here?  Is everything all right?”

“I finally broke the code,”
Eric said.

“That’s great.  So what was
it?”  He pulled a chair over to Eric’s desk and sat next to me.

“It’s a list of prominent
Huntingford citizens with numbers and dates next to their names,” I said.

He looked at the screen. 
“Hmm.  Money?”

I shrugged.  “Could be. 
These are wealthy people.  Could be donations for all we know.”

Minutes lapsed as we
contemplated the list.  With a sigh, I finally stood.  “Eric, would you make a
copy of this for me?”

“Sure.”  He punched a couple
of keys and the printer next to him spit out a copy of the list.

I folded the paper and
tucked it in my purse.  “Thanks.  And thanks for breaking the code.”

“Anytime, kid.”

“Oh, there’s one other
thing.”  I told them both about BJ’s latest nocturnal visit.  “And I’m about to
meet with Sheila Graystone.  Hopefully she’ll have information that will help.”

Steve had been pretty quiet
until now.  “Whatever you’re doing, it’s dangerous if it’s getting the
attention of this BJ character.”

Eric nodded in agreement. 
“He’s right.  You have to let the police handle this.”

“I can’t.  The police think
Ax is just some stoner who’s run off and I don’t have any real evidence—about
anything.  I need to find Ax and I can’t count on anybody else to do it for
me.”

Eric scrubbed at the stubble
on his cheeks and sighed.  “I’m worried about him, too.  And I’ve been covering
for him with the administration, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep it
up.  Since he got busted last year, he’s skating on thin ice.”

“I’m going to find him.”  I
wondered if my expression was a fierce as my voice.

Eric nodded.  “All right,
kid, but let me help.”

“You just told me how
dangerous it was to keep looking.” 

“Yeah, well, I kind of miss
him.  But if you repeat that, I’ll deny it.”

I smiled.  “I need to find
out everything I can about NorthStar Inc.  Not just a list of the businesses,
but the owner.  And how BJ fits in to all this.”

“Okay, I’ll get to work,”
Eric said.

Steve stood.  “I’ll walk you
out.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

He ignored me and placed his
hand on my arm.  “I’d like to talk to you for a minute.” 

We walked up the stairs and
out of the building.  The day was warm, the afternoon sun blazing low in the
sky. 

With his hand still on my
arm, he turned to me.  “I’ll do anything I can to help you find Ax.  But
please, don’t let this guy into your apartment again.”  His eyes, the color of
dark chocolate, were filled with concern.

“You’re really sweet,
Steve.  And I don’t plan on letting him in again.”

“Good.  Look I know you’re worried
about Axton, but you have to eat.  There’s this Thai place off the Boulevard—”

“Maybe once I get Axton back?” 
I had too many men to deal with right now.  I waved over my shoulder and jogged
to my car. 

When I walked into
Starbucks, the sharp smell of coffee hit me.  I loved that smell—comforting and
mouthwatering at the same time.  Sheila sat at a two-person table in the corner
and waved when she saw me. 

“Aren’t you going to get
some coffee?” she asked.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t
afford the Frappuccino I so richly deserved.  I pulled out a chair and sat
across from her.  “No, I’m good.”

“Thanks for meeting me.”

“Has Packard heard from
Axton again?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”  I blinked at her. 
“If you don’t have information on Ax, why did you call?” 

She looked down at the
table.  “This is hard,” she said, more to herself than to me.  She glanced back
up.  “Pack has been acting strange since Axton’s disappearance.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, really.  He’s
been on edge, secretive.”

“Secretive?”

She gestured with one hand. 
“He’ll get phone calls and walk out of the room to take them.  Even in the
middle of dinner.  He won’t talk in front of me.  I know my husband and
something is wrong.”

The thought crossed my mind
that maybe Packard was having an affair.  Call me Captain Obvious.

“Have you checked his phone
history?”

“I don’t feel right doing
that.”

“And you’re sure it’s about
Axton?  It’s not work or…”  I left the words hanging in the air.

She got what I was implying and
sat up straighter, a haughty look on her face.  “My husband is a good man.  An
honest man.  He would never do anything to hurt me.”