Diners, Dives & Dead Ends (15 page)

“I’ll go with,” Roxy said.

“Rose,” Dane said.  “I’ve
dealt with men like him.  You shouldn’t confront him, you should get a
restraining order.”

I scrubbed my hands over my
face.  Before I could make a decision, the door opened and Kevin stormed out,
followed by Spork, who had spiked blond hair, a dog collar around his neck, and
toilet paper shoved up his nose.   

Kevin’s chest heaved and he
pointed at Dane.  “Is this the guy who was in your apartment the other night?” 

“Let’s go, Rose.”  Dane
slipped his arm around my shoulders.

“Don’t touch her,” Kevin
said.  “I will kick your ass, man.”  Spork made a move to hold him back.

Roxy swung her head around,
making her curls bounce.  “Control him, Spork.”

 I’d had enough of the
adolescent drama for one night.  Actually, I’d had enough drama to last me a
freaking lifetime.  I stepped away from Dane. 

“Shut.  Up.”  I clapped my
hands with each word, like an elementary school teacher.  “I have had it. 
Kevin, you and I went out for exactly three weeks.  Get over it.  Don’t call.  Don’t
text.  Don’t come see me.  Do you understand?” 

“You and I have something
special,” he said, sounding like a little boy.  “I wrote a song for you.”

“I don’t want to hear it.  I
don’t love you.  And changing your name to Spaz was a stupid idea.”

He looked so hurt I almost
relented. 

“Baby.”  He reached out to
me, but I stepped back and bumped into Dane.

“I mean it, Kevin.  I want
you to leave me alone.”  I turned my attention to Roxy.  “Rox, why don’t we
follow you home?”

She cast a glance at Spork. 
Did I mention he had toilet paper in his nostrils?  And his name was Spork? 
That’s not a name, it’s barely even a utensil. 

“Come on,” I said.  I placed
my hand on her back as I guided her to the side parking lot.

Dane didn’t say much as we
followed Roxy home, or when he dropped me off to pick up my car at the cigar
bar.  He was the most normal man I had dated in years—not that this was a date—and
he must think I was crazy.  Bar fights with people named Spaz and Spork.  My
best friend was a punked out Shirley Temple. 
I
would think I was crazy.

After he parked the car,
Dane turned toward me and brushed a finger down my cheek.  “I’ll follow you
home, Rose.” He stepped out and walked around the car, opening the door for
me. 

When we reached the parking
lot of my apartment, Dane insisted on coming inside.  “I want to make sure you
don’t have any more unexpected visitors.”

I felt a little
self-conscious about Dane seeing my shabby apartment.  With my orange futon,
small bistro table, and secondhand dresser, it wasn’t much to look at. 

I shut the door with my
back.  “See?  Safe as houses.”  

But Dane wasn’t looking at
my apartment, he was looking at me.  “I had a very interesting time tonight,
Rose.”

“That’s one word to describe
it, I guess.”

“Things are never dull
around you, that’s for sure.  Axton’s lucky to have you as a friend.”  He
leaned forward and kissed me.  Softly.  His lips teased and nibbled.  He rested
his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close as the kiss deepened.  When his
tongue stroked mine, my fingers found their way into his short hair.  After
several pleasant minutes he slowly pulled away.  “I should probably go.”

Feeling a little dizzy, I
nodded.  “Yeah.”

“You want to meet at the
police station tomorrow or do you want me to pick you up?”  His thumb brushed
the side of my neck.

“I’ll meet you after I get
off work.”

His forehead wrinkled.  I
was quickly learning this was a sign that he wasn’t pleased.  “We should go
first thing in the morning.  You’ve already waited too long as it is.”

I stepped out of his hold, a
little stung by his comment.  “I did what I thought was right, Dane.”

He sighed.  “I know, I
didn’t mean to criticize.  I’ll see you after you get off of work.”  He kissed
my forehead and left.

As soon as Dane was out the
door, I blocked it with my dresser.  It was a flimsy piece of pressboard crap,
but it made me feel marginally safer.  I actually got some sleep that night.

The next morning I looked
out my window to make sure there were no strange cars in the lot before I left
my apartment.  I peeked out entrance door before venturing outside.  I was becoming
terrified of my own shadow and I hated it.

It was foggy and cold and as
I jogged with my keys in my hand, I noticed glass on the ground, but my brain
didn’t register what it was.  But once I reached the front of my car, I realized
the glass used to be my passenger side window.  Small shards littered the
interior of the car.  I spun around, looking for the guilty party, but I was completely
alone.

My shoulders slumped.  What
else could go wrong, for God’s sake?  I kicked at the broken glass, then
stomped back to my apartment and locked the door.  I called Ma’s and Ray
answered.  He told me not to worry about coming in, just call the police.  Which
I did.  And they were as helpful as they had been when I reported Axton’s
disappearance.  They took a report over the phone, told me to take pictures and
call my insurance company.  Since my car was barely worth a couple thousand
dollars and I only had liability, I didn’t bother.

Using my bathroom trash can
and a small broom, I cleaned up all the glass I could manage and got to the
diner a couple of minutes before six.  Because I
no longer had a passenger
window
, my hair looked as if I had been caught in a cyclone.  Ma and Roxy were
sympathetic to my latest drama and Jorge duct taped a plastic trash bag to my
door until I could afford to get it fixed. 

But I didn’t have time to
whine because Saturdays were so busy.  Ray put pumpkin pancakes on the menu and
I won’t say they sold like hotcakes, but…well.

I checked my phone at
closing.  I had a text message from Sheila Graystone.  She was actually waiting
for me by the dumpsters behind the diner. 

When I poked my head out the
door, I saw her sitting behind the wheel of her running SUV.  She waved me over
and rolled down her window.  “Rose,” she whispered.

“Hey, Sheila.  Did you get
the numb—”

“Shhh, get in.”  She jerked
her head to the passenger seat.

The fog had dissipated, but
it was still a gray chilly afternoon, and the rotten smell of garbage carried
on the wind.  I was happy to hop inside. 

“Sorry Rose, I can’t be seen
talking to you,” she said as she ducked down in her seat.

“There’s no one else here.” 
I was surprised she hadn’t shown up in a fedora and trench coat.

Sheila shoved a piece of
notebook paper in my hand.  “I had to wait until Pack went to bed last night to
look at his phone.” 

There were four numbers on
the list.  “These are incoming numbers you don’t recognize?”

She nodded.  “That last
number called nine times.  And the calls ranged from two to five minutes each.”

I folded the note and stuck
it in my purse.  “Thanks.  I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“I feel like such a coward
going behind his back like this.”  She rubbed her finger across her forehead. 
“I should be calling those numbers myself.  But I really don’t think it’s
another woman.”

“You still think this is
about Axton?”

“Packard knows more than
he’s telling.  I asked him what he told the police and he got so angry.  In ten
years of marriage, he’s never screamed at me.  Raised his voice, yes.  But when
I asked about Axton, he went nuts.”

I put my hand on her
shoulder, not knowing how to comfort her.  “Thanks, Sheila.  I really
appreciate it.”

Before I met Dane at the
police station, I ran home to change clothes.  I pulled my hair out of its
ponytail, giving it a quick brush, then threw on a navy sweater, jeans, and a
pair of brown leather boots I’d bought last July. 

Dane was already there when
I pulled into a parking spot in front of the building.  He leaned against the
brick wall next to the entrance and it was the first time I’d seen him without
a suit.  He wore faded jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and tennis shoes.  He
smiled as he watched me walk toward him.  “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.”  We looked
at each other for a moment.  His gaze drifted to my lips but moved past me to
the passenger door of my car.  He walked over to it, and reaching out, flicked
the plastic bag.  “What happened?”

“Vandalism.”

“Is this related to
everything else?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe.”

He moved back to my side. 
“You’re going to get this fixed soon, right?”

“Yeah.” 

“If it’s a matter of money—”

“It isn’t.  I’ll get it
fixed soon.”  I gave him a bright smile. 

He nodded.  “Okay, let’s go
make that report.”  He took me by the hand led me into the building.  As we
walked through the twisting corridors, I felt like a rat in a maze. 

We finally stopped at a
small cubicle in the back corner with gray padded walls and a gunmetal gray desk. 
Andre Thomas, his uniform crisp and starched, took down my story about Henry
and BJ and I threw in my vandalized car for good measure. 

“How did you say they got
in?” he asked, for what seemed like the millionth time.

I sighed.  Loudly.  “I told
you, I don’t know.  They were already in my apartment when I got home.”

Officer Thomas had café au
lait skin and was handsome in a drill sergeant kind of way.  His light hazel
eyes stared at me through rectangular glasses.  “You’d been to a couple of
bars?  How much did you have to drink?”

I threw my hands in the air
and glared at him.  We’d been at this for over an hour.  “I didn’t have
anything to drink and I’m not on trial.  I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m just curious why you
didn’t report this sooner, Miss Strickland.  Seems odd to me.  If two men broke
into my house, I’d have called the police immediately.”

“I told you, I didn’t think
the police could help me and BJ was pretty specific about not messing with him.”

He drummed his fingers on
the desk.  “So why are you reporting it now?”

Dane leaned forward. 
“What’s the problem, Andre?  She’s telling you what happened.”

The officer scrutinized me
with laser-like intensity.  “I’m just trying to get an accurate picture of what
occurred.”

I stood up.  “Here’s an
accurate picture for you.  My friend, Axton Graystone, is missing.”  I pointed
at him.  “I report that and you police people have done nothing about it.  I
report two men broke into my apartment and they seem to know my every move.  I
report someone vandalizes my car, but there’s nothing you can do about that,
either.  And now you’re treating me like the criminal?”

“Sounds like trouble follows
you around, Miss Strickland.  Now, sit down, and we’ll go over this again.”  He
nodded at the chair I’d vacated.

I shifted my gaze to Dane. 
“I told you this was a mistake.”  I grabbed my purse, haphazardly finding my
way out of the labyrinth, wishing I’d left a trail of breadcrumbs to make it
easier.

When I made it outside, I
closed my eyes, tilted my face to dark clouds overhead.  I took a deep
cleansing breath.  Sitting in that gray box being interrogated like a career
criminal left me a little shaky.  Dane came out a minute later.  He placed his
hand on the small of my back.  “Hey,” he said, “I know he’s a hard ass, but he
was just doing his job.”

I opened my eyes and faced
him.  “I don’t have much faith in the police anymore, Dane.” I gestured toward
the building.  “This was pointless.”  I pulled my keys out of my purse and headed
toward my car.

“Where are you going?  We
need to go back in there and finish up.”

“I’m going to find Axton.”

I pulled into the nearest
gas station, sat in my car, and scanned through the NorthStar list.  I was
determined to hit at least one more place today.  I wasn’t sure it would lead
me to Ax, but it made me feel like I was doing something.

I had just picked out my
next target when my phone rang.  It was Jacks. “Yeah?”  I was still hurt she
lied about going to my parents’ house last night.  I knew Jacks hated to be
stuck in the middle between my mother and me, but I wish she’d take my side occasionally.

“Do you want to come over
for dinner?  I’m making lasagna.” 

My stomach gurgled at the
thought.  This was her peace offering.  And it was a yummy one.  “Sure.  What
time?”

“Around six.  Although you
might want to get here early because someone got his Halloween costume.”

“I did, Aunt Rose,” I heard
Scotty yell in the background.