Diners, Dives & Dead Ends (20 page)

I grabbed a tray on my way
out of the kitchen and walked down an empty hall.  The worn hardwood floors were
dull in the dim light.  There hadn’t been much updating in the place.  It
looked exactly like what it was—an old school. 

Quiet voices came from a
room on the left.  I poked my head inside but didn’t see Packard.  Pretty young
women in dressy gowns with glasses of champagne in their hands stood close to
three round baize tables.  Men sat at the tables, cards in their hands, drinks
at their elbows.  Poker.  Just like at the cigar bar.  The air was thick with
smoke in here as well.

I smiled and tried to be
unobtrusive as I moved around with my tray.  Only one woman took a shrimp puff. 
She sniffed it and placed it back.  I gave Miss Manners a disapproving look and
moved on.  The men were involved with their cards, and the dealers didn’t even notice
me.

I stepped out of the room
and peeked into the one across the hall.  Jackpot.  Poker, pretty women, and
Packard Graystone.

Packard sat at the table, his
body contorted to look up at a dapper man in a tuxedo.  I walked into the room
and slipped behind a tall brunette in a stunning evening gown.  I peeked around
her and listened as Pack yelled at the older man.

“Don’t fuck with me, Robert. 
Don’t you know who I am?”

Robert spoke in a low, calm
tone.  I had no idea what he said, but it nearly gave Packard an aneurism.

“Like hell I will.  You
don’t fucking tell me that.  You know I’m good for it.”  Packard’s face was
almost purple and a big vein throbbed in the middle of his forehead.

Robert glanced over
Packard’s head and beckoned to a large bald man on the other side of the room. 
The bald man looked as if he used to bench press European cars for a living.  His
massive arms strained the material of his tux.  If I’d been Packard, I’d have
crapped myself if I saw that guy coming for me.

But Packard wasn’t scared,
he was pissed.  “I need more credit!”

The big guy simply lifted Pack’s
arm and dragged his ass out of the room.

“What are you doing?”

The tall woman I’d been
hiding behind glared down at me.  She was very pretty, but had on way too much
eyeliner.  Sometimes less is more, ladies.

“That’s a great dress,” I
said.  “Where’d you get it?”

“Pour Femme, of course.”

A piece just clicked into
place.  I smiled and held up my tray.  “Shrimp?”

“No,” she sniffed and walked
away.

I meandered around offering
my puffs to people who didn’t want them.  These women were eye candy for the
men who gambled.  That’s what the saleswoman at Pour Femme thought I was.  I
wondered if the Pour Femmes did more than stand around drinking champagne. 
Might make things interesting. 

I waited until I was sure
Packard had left the building, then I booked it down the hall toward the
kitchen.  I got halfway there when Alice came out of nowhere and grabbed my
arm.

“You’re very slow, Sue.  Get
in and out of the rooms at a much quicker pace.”

“Sorry.  Where’s the
restroom?”

“You don’t have a break for
another two hours.  Go upstairs.  And remember, in and out.”  With her
clipboard pressed to her chest, she glared at me while I climbed the stairs.

Roxy was going to kill me or
perhaps everyone in the building, if I didn’t get her out of here and shove a
piece of gum in her mouth.

They layout was similar to
downstairs with four rooms on either side of the hall, only these rooms hosted
blackjack and roulette.  I carted my tray from room to room and actually had a
few takers.  As I made my way down the stairs, my eyes locked on Manny, who was
on his way up. 

“You.”  He pointed at me and
ran on sandaled feet up the steps. 

I panicked as he came toward
me and nearly fell face first into the banister.  He kept coming.  I lifted the
tray, tossed the shrimp over my shoulder, and slammed it into Manny’s face as
hard as I could.

He staggered then tumbled
backward, landing on his ass.  I threw the tray at him and ran down the stairs. 
I almost made it past him, but he grabbed my ankle and brought me down.

My knee slammed into the
corner of the hard wooden step and I grabbed the railing.  I tried to shake my
foot free from his grasp, but couldn’t.  I reached back and slapped the top of
his bald pate.  “Let go, asshole.”

Alice looked up from the
bottom step and gasped so hard I thought she was choking.  “What is going on
here?”

“Ben Franklin…tried to…cop a
feel,” I said between slaps to his head.

“She’s lying.  She’s not who
she says she is.”

I kicked out with my other
foot and made contact with his nose.  He finally let me go to grab his face with
both hands.  Blood poured through his fingers.

“You bitch,” he said,
sounding like he had a cold.

I ran down the stairs,
flying past Alice.  Her wide eyes and gaping mouth said she couldn’t quite
believe what was happening.

I ran to the kitchen and saw
Roxy out of the corner of my eye.  “Run,” I yelled, not slowing down as I fled
the kitchen and sped out into the cold night.

Footsteps pounded on the
gravel behind me.  I looked back to make sure it was Roxy.  To my relief it
was.

I ripped open the driver’s
side door and flung myself into the car.  Roxy hopped in the back.

Ma, who had been dozing, sat
up.  “Bingo.”  She looked around as I put the car in gear and stomped on the
gas.  Rocks flung from my tires as I sped out of the lot. 

“What the hell is going on?”
Ma asked.

I told them about Manny
between ragged breaths.  My knee throbbed as I drove back to the deserted old
highway, glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds. 

Once we made it back into
Huntingford, I pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot so I could calm down and
catch my breath.  “Just give me a minute, guys.”  I laid my forehead on the
steering wheel.  Pulled off the bow tie and unbuttoned the top button on the
white blouse.  It occurred to me I left behind my gray hoodie and my second
best pair of jeans.  Damn. 

“So Manny’s the guy who called
Packard and they were both in the old school tonight.  That can’t be a coincidence,
can it?” Ma asked.

I raised my head and looked
at her.  “No.  And we told the woman in charge that NorthStar hired us.”  Just
then my phone buzzed.  I dug it out of my pocket with trembling hands and
glanced at the text.

“Eric wants me to come
over.  He has something on Sullivan.”

Ma yawned and stretched in
her seat.  “Tell me again who this Eric person is.  You’re not dating him, too,
are you?”

“He works with Axton.  He’s helping
me find information on Sullivan and NorthStar,” I said as I pulled back on the
road.

When we got to Eric’s, I
introduced him to Ma.  “Nice to meet you,” he said.

“I need to use the little
girls’ room.  Would you like some Chex Mix?”  She held up the plastic
container.

“Yeah, I love this stuff.” 
After setting down the beer he’d been holding, he lifted the lid, grabbed a
handful of cereal, and popped it in his mouth.

Ma walked down the hall and
Roxy flopped onto the loveseat in front of the TV and began flipping through
the channels.  While Eric munched, I felt amped up and antsy.    

When Ma stepped back in the
room he asked, “You guys want a beer or something?”

“I’ll take one,” Ma said,
settling down next to Roxy.

Eric scooted off to the
kitchen and came back with a long neck, handing it to her.

“Thanks.  What are all those
for?”  She pointed to a pile of controllers on the floor in front of the TV.

“This is a wireless
control.  I play these,” he pointed to a shelf full of video games, “on this.” 
He pointed to a console.

“Can I try one?” she asked.

Eric looked a little
pleased.  “Sure.  First-person shooters are good.  Let’s start with…”  He
studied the games and plucked one from the shelf.  “This one.  Do you guys want
to play, too?”

“I will,” Roxy said.

I shook my head.  “No thanks.” 
I’d been playing enough games lately.

Eric showed the controller
to Ma and Roxy.  “This one is to shoot.  You move like this.  If you need help,
let me know.”

He picked up his bottle and
pulled me aside.  His dining room—more of a dining area really—was separated
from the living room by an arched wall.  Desks and card tables were cluttered
with computers, laptops, and motherboards.  “Are you ready to see what I found
out about your Sullivan?”

“He’s not my Sullivan, and
yes, more than ready.”  I sank down on a desk chair, sore and weary.

 “I dug through the county
records for personal property taxes.  I figured that would be the best place to
start.”

I held up a hand.  “Wait,
can you do that?”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean, isn’t that
illegal?”

“Nope, it’s a matter of
public record.  I found tax records for one Thomas Malcolm Sullivan,
thirty-four years of age.  He was the most likely candidate, and after doing a
deed and title search, I found out he owns a ton of property.  Mostly office
buildings and strip malls.”  He handed me a stack of papers.  “Here you go.” 

I scanned the pages.  “He
owns the old school.”   I slapped the paper with one hand.  “We followed
Packard tonight and he went to this old school building out in the country. 
It’s on the list.” 

“What was in an old school?”

“A gambling club.  Pack was
losing and they wouldn’t extend him credit.”

“How did you find this out?”

I wagged my thumb over my
shoulder.  “Rox and I went undercover.” 

I continued to read the long
list of properties.  Sullivan owned the strip mall that housed Sun Kissed
Tanning and the Pour Femme boutique building.  Like Ma said—bingo.  “Oh my God,
this is amazing.  Evidence, Eric.  Real evidence.”    

My enthusiasm was
intoxicating.  “Okay, let’s walk through this,” I said.  “Axton gives me his
backpack.  I see Sullivan in the park and he’s looking for Axton.  He finds Axton—”

“Kidnaps him,” Eric said.

“Yep, Sullivan kidnaps Axton
to get his hands on the hard drive.  But I have the hard drive.  On that hard
drive is a list of people with a number next to their name.  I think we can
safely assume it’s money—”

“Money they lost gambling,”
he said.

“We know Sullivan has Axton,
we know Packard has a gambling problem.  I saw a poker game in the back room at
the cigar bar and Manny’s running something in the back of that tanning salon. 
And I saw Manny tonight.  He and I had a little smackdown.”

“Are you all right?”  Eric
sat on his haunches and touched my knee.

I winced and jerked my leg
to the side.  “I fell.  I’m okay.  Anyway, I don’t think it’s a coincidence
that Sullivan leases his property to NorthStar businesses.”

Rubbing his head, Eric
narrowed his eyes.  “And Axton went to a club the night before he was taken.  It
was a NorthStar club, wasn’t it?  And Axton took the hard drive?”

“Probably stole it from
Sullivan.  We know there’s gambling in some of these places, and Sullivan must
be in charge, right?”  Oh God.  It finally dawned on me, if that was the case,
I’d put Eric in a very dangerous situation.  I clutched his arm with my free
hand.  “What if they figure out you have the hard drive?  What if they come for
you next?”

“Hey, Rose.”  He took the
papers from me and laid them down on a keyboard.  Then he took both my hands in
his.  “You have enough on your plate, kid.  The last thing you need to worry
about is me, okay?  I can take care of myself.  Let’s concentrate on rescuing Axton.”

“Okay.”  I nodded and took a
deep breath.  “Sullivan told me he would do anything to protect his interests. 
The gambling, the people on this list, the properties—he’s in charge of it
all.”  Sullivan was the big cheese, the head honcho, the Kaiser Soze.  I didn’t
call him the Bossy Jackass for nothing.

I dug the list of NorthStar
businesses out of my purse and compared it to the sheaf of papers Eric gave
me.  “Not all the businesses Sullivan leases to are NorthStar businesses. 
There’s a barbershop in the same strip mall as the tanning salon.  It’s not
owned by NorthStar.”

“Maybe he rents to other
businesses to make it seem legit.”

“Packard got a call from the
tanning salon and he was gambling in one of Sullivan’s properties tonight.  We
have a real connection.  Yes!”  I threw my fist in the air, jumped out of my
seat, and did my little happy dance.  Eric laughed, but I was too excited to
care.  We finally had a real trail to follow.

Eric smiled and high-fived
me.