Diners, Dives & Dead Ends (19 page)

He leaned forward, a look of
pity crossed his face.  “I know you want to believe that, but there’s no
evidence to support it.  Axton doesn’t move in these circles.  It doesn’t make
sense.”

“Axton doesn’t, but his
brother does.”

He leaned back.  “Right.  A
well respected doctor, a member of the city council, somehow ties into Axton’s
disappearance?  How?  Why?  It’s probably a donor list for a charity.” 

It bothered me how Dane kept
referring to Axton’s kidnapping as a disappearance.  It stopped being a
disappearance when I saw that chilling photo.  But I couldn’t tell Dane that. 
“Thanks for the info about NorthStar.  I need to get back to work.”

Dane grabbed my wrist.  “Come
on, don’t be like this.”

I pulled away.  “It’s fine. 
I’ll talk to you later.”  I stepped into the kitchen to take a deep breath. 

Dane totally dismissed
me.   

Why would Axton have an
encrypted list on a hard drive if it wasn’t important?  I was convinced I was
right.  If Dane didn’t want to help, fine.  I’d keep going on my own.

Even after Sullivan’s latest
threat, it never crossed my mind to quit looking for Ax.  I missed him so
much.  His goofy grin, his
Star Wars
t-shirts, the way he’d drop by the
diner for breakfast or bring me a pizza and a horrible sci-fi movie.  Axton had
the sweetest spirit of anyone I’d ever met. 

Sullivan certainly made it
clear he wanted me to quit looking.  I had a good reason to let this go, the
safety of my family and friends.  But my heart had an Axton-shaped hole right
now.  I would keep going.

An hour after Dane left, Steve
Gunderson walked through the door and propped his umbrella against the wall. 
He smiled and waved at me before taking off his glasses and rubbing them
against his white button-down.

“Hey.”  He slid onto a stool
and leaned his elbows on the counter.  “Haven’t heard from you in a couple of
days, so I thought I’d check in.”

“That’s nice of you.”  I
poured him a cup of coffee, introduced him to Ma.

“Now which one are you?” she
asked.

“Steve works with Axton.”

Roxy walked up, her jaw in
constant motion.  “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Steve’s cheeks turned pink. 
“I just wanted to see if Rose had any news.”

I gave Roxy a death stare. 
“Steve’s worried about Axton, too.” 

“Wanted to see you is more
like it,” she muttered as she moved behind me.

“What can I get you, Steve?”
I asked.

He ordered another cup to go
and only stayed ten minutes.  Long enough for him to ask me out.  “Do you like
Indian food?  The Taj Mahal over on Blossom Avenue makes this curry—”

“Steve.”  I touched his
arm.  “You’re a really nice guy—”

He glanced down at my hand. 
“Hey, no problem.”  His crooked grin tilted to one side.  “I’ll talk to you
later.”

I felt a little bad for him,
but it was better to cut these things off at the pass.  Cruel to be kind and
all that.  

Customers were few and far
between as the cold rain continued, so I didn’t feel guilty about calling
Sheila Graystone during my shift.  She didn’t waste time on pleasantries.

“What have you found out?”
she asked as soon as she heard my voice.

“The first number belonged
to Huntingford Bank and Trust.”

She paused for a long
moment.  “Go on.”

“One call from Charles
Beaumont.”

“That makes sense.  He and
Charles are both on the city council.  What else?”

“One call from the Sun
Kissed Tanning Salon.”

“What?” she asked, surprise
in her voice.  “That must have been a wrong number or something.”

“Maybe.  And the last number
belongs to a man named Sullivan.”  If I had been waiting for a big revelation,
I was in for a disappointment.

“Is that it?  That’s all?  I
mean, there wasn’t…?”

“No women.” 

“Of course not.  I told
you.”  In spite of her words, I heard the relief in her voice.

“So, who is this Sullivan
guy?”  I tried to make the question sound casual.  “He and Packard spoke nine
times.” 

“Who knows?  Probably
something to do with the city council.  Pack even has a committee meeting
tonight and that almost never happens on a Sunday.  I guess I was worried for
nothing,” she said with a little laugh.

Uh huh.  “Take care,
Sheila.”

Roxy stood next to me chomping
her gum as she filled the coffee pot with water. 

“I’m going to follow Packard
tonight, want to come?”

She shrugged.  “Sure.”

“Where are you going?”  Ma
sat at the counter, sipping her coffee.

Ray came out of the kitchen
with my omelet in one hand, Roxy’s cinnamon roll in the other.  “Thanks, Ray.”

“Son, the biscuits were too
salty this morning,” Ma said to Ray’s retreating back.  She looked at me.  “What’s
going on tonight?”

“We’re going to follow
Packard.  He told Sheila he’s going to a city council meeting, but I think he’s
lying.”

“Ooooh, that sounds like
fun.  Just like a television show.”  She looked at me expectantly.  When I said
nothing, her face dropped.  “Well.  You girls have a good time.”  I knew she wanted
to come, but I wasn’t sure if that was such a good idea.  It could be
dangerous.  And the woman was almost eighty, for crying out loud.

“Don’t you have bingo or
dominoes or bridge club tonight?” I asked.

“No, bunko got canceled. 
The woman hosting it had a stroke.”

“Oh Ma, I’m sorry.”

“Is she going to be okay?”
Roxy asked.

“Oh, sure, it was a mild
one.  Hey, at our age, stuff like that happens.” 

That’s what I was afraid
of.  “Well,” I said, frowning, “you probably don’t want to go with—”

“I’d love to.”  She giggled
like a schoolgirl.  “This is going to be such a kick.”

I wished I shared her
enthusiasm.

When I got to Roxy’s
apartment later that night, I was surprised to see her dressed in normal
clothes.  Well, normal for her.  True, the crotch of her black slacks hung to
her knees and the hood of her furry coat had bear ears, but the t-shirt and
ballet flats were perfectly normal.

The rain had finally
stopped, but the air was still damp and cold.  I parked in front of Ma’s blue
and white Victorian house.  I still thought Ma coming had bad idea written all
over it, but I didn’t want to disappoint her.

I hopped out of the car, ran
up the front stairs, and knocked.  Ma stepped onto the porch, handing me a
thermos and a plastic grocery sack.  “I’m so excited.  Do we need a camera,
because I’ve got one in my purse, just in case.”

“I don’t think so.”  I
followed her down the steps.  “In fact, I think it’s going to be pretty
boring.”

She brushed me off as she
walked to the car.  “Don’t be such a downer, Rose.”

Roxy climbed into the back
seat so Ma could sit shotgun.  “I brought snacks,” Ma said.  “And hot chocolate.”

We drove to Packard’s
subdivision and I parked at the end of the cul-de-sac.  I cut the headlights,
but left the car running.   

Ma skillfully poured hot
chocolate into cups she’d pilfered from the diner, the ones with a lid and
sleeve around it so we wouldn’t burn our hands.  She reached back into the
plastic bag and pulled out a container.  “Who wants Chex mix?”

We waited about forty-five
minutes before Packard came out of the house and got into his SUV.  I followed
him from a discreet distance keeping my headlights off until we turned onto a
main thoroughfare.  He led us through town before taking the highway. 

“Where do you think he’s
going?” Ma yelled.  She had to if she wanted to be heard over the
thwapping
noise
of the plastic bag window.

“It’s not City Hall, that’s
for sure,” I said.

“Crap,” Roxy said from the
backseat.

“What’s wrong?”

“I only have two pieces of
gum left.”

Ma twisted in her seat to
look at Roxy.  “What about that patch?  How’s that working?” 

“I hate that stupid patch. 
And I hate this sucky gum.  I want a cigarette.  Argh!”  She sounded like a
pirate.

“Feel better?” My gaze met
hers in the rearview mirror.

She shrugged.  “A little.”

Packard pulled onto the
Crabtree Avenue exit.  We were officially out of Huntingford and into country
territory.  He drove another fifteen minutes to a deserted highway.  When he
turned right, I turned left, then doubled back and cut my headlights once
again, letting him get far ahead of me.  We pulled into a long gravel drive
that led to a two-story brick building. 

“This used to be a school, I
think,” said Ma.  “The country kids went here.”

“I’m assuming this is a bar,
right?  What else would be out here?” I asked.

“Well, there’s only one way
to find out.”  Ma put the snacks back in the plastic sack at her feet.

Packard parked in front of
the building with about seventy-five other cars.  Every light in the place was
on. 

When he walked in, I drove
the rest of the way down the long drive and parked in the last row, as far from
Pack’s car as I could get.  I switched off the ignition and turned in my seat. 
“What are we going to do?  We can’t just march in there.”

“Pull around back,” Roxy
said.

I restarted the engine and
did as she asked.  There were cars parked behind the building as well, but I found
a space near the back entrance.  “Now what?”

“Now we do reconnaissance.” 
She shrugged out of her jacket.  “Will you be all right here, Ma?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll leave the car
running,” I said.  “It’s extra chilly because of the busted window.”

“Go on, girls.  Call if you
get into trouble.”  She waved her phone at us.

I shrugged out of my coat
and left it with Ma, just in case she needed it.  Roxy and I walked toward the
building.  “Okay, Rox, what’s your big plan?”

“This is it. 
Reconnaissance.”

I stopped and stared at
her.  “You don’t have a plan?”

“I can’t do everything,
Rose.”  She huffed and stomped toward the building.

Good God. 

When she got to the door,
she waited for me to do the honors.  With a deep breath I twisted the knob and
opened it.  Clinking plates and noisy chatter filled a professional stainless
steel kitchen.  Steam smacked me in the face and the briny smell of shrimp made
my stomach growl.  I glanced back at her.  “At least we’re in familiar
territory.”

I walked in with Roxy behind
me.  Men and women dressed in black slacks, white dress shirts, and black bow
ties hustled around the kitchen.  Now this I could do.

A woman with oversized black
eyeglasses and a clipboard strode toward us.  “Who are you?  What are you doing
in my kitchen?”

I smiled.  “We’re new. 
NorthStar sent us.”  I held my smile as she looked from me to Roxy, taking in
her blue hair and baggy pants. 

“I wasn’t told about this. 
Where are your uniforms?”

Roxy smacked her gum.  “They
said you had ’em.”

The woman put her palm up to
Roxy’s mouth.  “Spit.”

“Huh?”

“Gum is not allowed.  Now
spit.”

Roxy looked slightly
panicked, but spit the gum into the woman’s hand.

Alice, as marked on a very
large nametag pinned to her shirt, looked disgusted as she marched to the other
side of the room and threw the gum in the trash.  She briskly walked back to
us.  “That blue hair has got to go.  It’s not regulation.  You can work in the
kitchen tonight.”  She turned toward me.  “You, come with me.”

I glanced over as Roxy
flipped off Alice behind her back.

“I have a few extra
uniforms.  What’s your name?”

“Uh, Sue.”  Damn, why didn’t
I ever have a good answer for that question?

In a little cloak room off
the kitchen, several uniforms hung on a rolling rack.  She grabbed one and
thrust it at me.  “I have very strict standards.  Follow them and we’ll get
along just fine.  Get dressed.  Then grab a tray of shrimp puffs and take it
out.”  She left the room and I locked the door behind her.

As I changed clothes, I
wondered what we had stumbled into.  And I wondered if I could snag some of
those shrimp puffs.  I was hungry.

I adjusted the bow tie, then
grabbed the phone out of my jeans, and shoved it into the pocket of my new
uniform.  I walked back to the kitchen and glanced over at Roxy.  She slapped
doilies on a tray, and by the look she gave me, she wasn’t happy about it.