Rock Chick 01 (23 page)

When he lifted his head, he said, “Call Hank
if you go anywhere, I need my men working. Hank’s gonna watch you
today.”

Since I didn’t want to get kidnapped again
and yesterday had beaten out the day I called the ticket line and
found out Pearl Jam was sold out as the worst day of my life, I
said, “Okay.”

He kissed me quickly, deposited me back in
bed and then he was gone.

* * * * *

I slept more, got up, drank coffee, sucked
down some ibuprofen and called Hank to come and get me. I didn’t
know what I intended to do that day but I was too wired by recent
events to sit around all day in Lee’s condo.

I surveyed myself in Lee’s bathroom mirror.
The semi-shiner was fading but still there.

I looked down at my body.

I had added bruises on my wrists, biceps and
thighs as well as some small scratches on my arms and legs.

Very attractive.

To make myself feel better about this
situation, I turned to my MAC cosmetics. MAC never let me down. I
put on some dewy blush, eye shadow that really had no color but was
mostly sparkles, that white under-mascara-base-coat that makes our
eyelashes look a mile long and a double-coat of mascara. I donned
my Lynyrd Skynryd t-shirt, jeans, black woven belt with the big,
square, silver buckle stamped with tiny roses and black cowboy
boots.

I’d just tugged on the second boot when my
cell rang.

“We have a problem,” Duke’s gravelly, Sam
Elliott voice crunched in my ear.

“Duke! God, I’m glad to hear from you.”

“I’m at the store –”

“I closed the store for the weekend,” I
informed him belatedly.

“I saw the note, I opened it. We have a
near-riot on our hands here. People are freakin’ that Rosie’s not
here. It started out pretty peaceful but now the mob want
blood.”

“Are you there alone?”

I was aghast. Staffing Fortnum’s in the
morning alone in the years pre-espresso-counter was doable.
Post-coffee, impossible.

“Dolores is with me.”

Uh-oh.

Dolores drank instant coffee. This was not a
good thing.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I flipped my phone shut and the buzzer went
just as my cell rang again.

The phone was Ally, I flipped it open and
told her to hang on while I hit the button on Lee’s intercom. It
was Hank so I told him I’d be down to meet him.

“You doin’ okay?” Ally asked.

“Yeah, I ache but other than that, fine,” I
answered.

“What’re you up to today?”

“Duke opened Fortnum’s and just phoned in a
potential Rosie Riot. I’m heading over with Hank.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Hank was not thrilled about heading into a
riot situation as the first order of business during his Indy
Watch. I talked him into it by alluding to concerns about his
masculinity.

I walked in the door at Fortnum’s and wished
I’d let Hank talk me out of riot control. There were at least
fifteen, maybe twenty people and the air crackled with hostility.
It was pretty clear that the regulars were okay with a few confused
Rosie-free days but now the natives were getting restless.

Annie spied me before the door shut behind
Hank. Annie had been coming every weekday morning for years, eight
fifteen, wearing a suit, her blonde hair molded into a style
reminiscent of a football helmet. We’d chatted over the counter
hundreds of times and she was always pleasant if sometimes in a
hurry. It was Sunday and I’d never seen her there on a weekend.

“What the fuck is going on here? Where’s the
little guy who makes the coffee?” she snapped.

I stared at her and my mouth dropped
open.

“Yeah. Where’s Rosie and why was the store
closed yesterday? Ellen never closed the store. As in, ever.” That
was Manuel, he’d been a regular since before the days of caffeine.
He used to read Vonnegut and Updike for hours in the T-U-V section.
I’d known him for as long as I could remember.

“I go out of my way, seventeen blocks, for
the Coffee Guy’s coffee. What am I gonna do now? Where am I gonna
go?” another guy asked. I didn’t know his name but he’d come with
Rosie after he left the chain-coffee-shop and usually popped by a
couple of Sundays a month and sometimes actually bought a book.

They started to press in and Hank pushed in
front of me going into bodyguard mode.

Really, I was fed up. I understood the love
of coffee, but this was ridiculous. I’d had the worst few days of
my entire life. I was Lee Nightingale’s girlfriend and we hadn’t
done it
yet. I was a woman on the edge.

I stood on a chair, put my thumb and finger
in my mouth and gave the ear-splitting whistle Dad taught me when I
was eleven.

“Listen up people!” I shouted.

All eyes turned to me as I noticed Mr. Kumar
walk in with an Asian woman his age and another one much older, the
other one possibly prehistoric.

I turned my attention back to the mob.

“The Coffee Guy, whose name is Rosie by the
way, has moved to El Salvador,” I lied.

This was not met with happy noises.

“He’s turned his back on coffee and is in the
wilds of Central America building houses for the poor. I think we
should all take a moment away from our quest for
coffee-satisfaction and think about this noble decision. As you
clamor for caffeine and curse the hard-working but innocent staff
at my store, Rosie is sitting in the bed of a beat-up pickup
bumping across dirt roads to make one room homes out of mud for
those who have nothing at all.”

I was kind of laying it on thick and had no
idea what I was talking about but I was counting on American
insularity. Since we hadn’t been to war with El Salvador, what did
anyone know about it?

Now, people were staring at me as if I was a
performer in the Jim Rose Circus Sideshow.

“I’ll understand if you make the decision to
move back to a franchise coffee shop, but consider this. In a
couple of years, little businesses like mine, and Mr. Kumar’s over
there,” I pointed at Kumar and his neck descended three inches into
his shoulders, “are going to be taken over and America will be
wall-to-wall franchises. The franchise is killing off America’s Mom
and Pop shops. Ask yourself… is that what you want? Is that what
you
really
want?”

No one said a word.

“I said,
is that what you want
?” I
shouted.

There was some shuffling of feet and someone
said a quiet, “No.”

It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement or a
cry to freedom but I was beginning to feel like an idiot. I mean, I
was talking like Tex, for God’s sake, not to mention standing on a
chair.

“Good. Duke’s taking coffee orders. We’ll get
you all sorted out in no time. Thank you for your attention.”

I stepped off the chair and Hank was grinning
at me. I figured Lee would hear about this. It didn’t matter, they
were used to me doing crazy shit. I ignored Hank and smiled at
Kumar.

“Hey, Mr. Kumar.”

“India,” he said. “This is my wife, Mrs.
Kumar and my wife’s mother, Mrs. Salim.”

I smiled at the women. Mrs. Kumar was clearly
a beauty in her day and the bloom was not yet off the rose. She
smiled back and it reached her eyes with a dazzle.

Mrs. Salim’s entire face was wrinkled and
motionless and I fought the urge to listen for her breathing.

“You buy food at my store, we are here to buy
books at yours.”

Something about this show of solidarity made
me want to cry. Mr. Kumar must have sensed it because he bowed his
head to me. I bowed mine back.

“Then we are going to go to see Tex in the
hospital. Then we will go and open our store.”

“I’m going to see Tex later too.”

He nodded.

“Now I can see that you need to make
coffee.”

I nodded back and Ally pushed through the
door. She saw Kumar right away and smiled, pushing forward. “Hey
Mr. Kumar. Is this the missus? Whoa!”

Ally rounded the Kumars, saw Mrs. Salim and
couldn’t hide her reaction.

I left her extracting her foot out of her
mouth.

Dolores was taking orders, saying such things
to the customers as, “Skinny lah-tay, uh, come again?” and Duke was
making coffee.

Dolores worked at the Little Bear which was a
very cool and could-get-rowdy bar in Evergreen. She could take an
order for eight margaritas, two without salt, three frozen, three
Jack and cokes, a white Russian and a Shirley Temple, fill it
without a mistake and carry it all to the table on one tray. With
coffee, she was hopeless. She came in to help out at Fortnum’s
every once in awhile and it was never pretty.

I shouldered in next to Duke and made Hank a
cappuccino with a triple shot. Pepper Rick was still on the loose
and I wanted Hank hyper-alert. Hank positioned himself at the end
of the counter, in full view of the front door and in reaching
distance of me.

“I guess I picked the wrong time for a
bender,” Duke said to me.

“Yeah, but I’m getting used to getting
stun-gunned, kidnapped and shot at. Finding the dead body was a
serious bummer and Tex got shot in the shoulder last night but
other than that, no worries.”

Duke went still. Dolores looked up from the
paper cup on which she was frantically misspelling instructions in
hot pink marker and stared at me with huge eyes. The customer
standing in front of the espresso machine gaped at me.

Er, I guess Lee didn’t fill Duke in
yesterday.

“You wanna run that by me again?” Duke
suggested.

I eyed the customer and pulled at the
machine. “Later.”

We cleared the throng just as the happy sound
of the cash register at the book counter rang. As per usual,
everyone looked up and Ally yelled the ceremonial, “I sold a
book!”

Sometimes when someone sold a book, we
shouted it. It was cause for celebration.

I did my book sale happy dance, waving my
arms and turning in a circle. When I finished my dance, I noticed
it was The Kumars’ purchase. They were standing in front of Ally
and I gave them a big thumbs up.

In slow motion, old Mrs. Salim returned the
gesture and I feared that her thumb would break off in a poof of
dust like the zombie’s arm in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video.
She snatched the bag from Ally with bony fingers and they walked
out on a wave, Mrs. Salim shuffling behind, her bag rustling.

“Now that we have a second, let’s go back
over the kidnapping and dead body thing,” Duke said to me, his
fingers scratching his forehead under his trademark rolled, red
bandana.

My cell phone rang.

Saved by the cell.

I flipped it open.

“Hello?”

Silence, then a quiet voice said, “I need a
Rock Chick rescue.”

“Sorry?”

“A scary guy was at the door. He’s gone but I
know he’s gonna come back, I know it. He knows I’ve got them and
he’s gonna get me like he got Tim.”

It was The Kevster. Who was at the door, only
God knew, but it didn’t sound good. And The Kevster had something,
something I hoped was glittery and worth a million dollars.

“Kevin?” I asked.

“You gotta help me.”

The phone went dead.

I looked to Ally.

“The Kevster’s in trouble.” I swung my eyes
to Hank. “We gotta roll.”

I took off from behind the counter but was
halted on a skid when Hank grabbed a handful of my tee.

“What’s goin’ on?”

I gave him the lowdown, trying to pull him
along with me but he stood stock-still and shook his head.

“I’ll call it in,” Hank said.

“No! No cops. He’s a little… sensitive.”

Hank stared at me and his mouth got
tight.

“I’m a cop,” he reminded me.

“Not today,” I tried.

I failed.

“
Everyday,
” he returned.

“Hank, seriously, for some reason he trusts
me and Ally. We gotta go and you gotta be cool.”

“Indy, seriously, you aren’t going anywhere
and I don’t gotta be anything.”

Ally walked up to us. “I’ll go.”

“You aren’t going either.” Hank looked at the
both of us. “Jesus. I’ll go.”

Hank started walking to the door asking where
Kevin lived.

I followed close behind.

He turned and I slammed into him.

“Stay,” he said.

“I’m not a dog!”

“You aren’t going.”

“I’m not staying.”

Hank glanced at Duke and I was pretty sure
they were going to gang up on me so I burst out, “They kidnapped me
at the front door of my childhood home! They won’t think twice
about coming here. I’m not leaving you and you have to go save The
Kevster so I’m going with you.”

“I’m going too,” Ally said.

Turning the tables, Ally and I ganged up on
Hank. He looked about ready to commit murder but he relented. He’d
known Ally and me long enough to know we’d get our way come hell or
high water.

“You have to do what I tell you,” he
said.

That was not gonna happen.

“Sure,” I lied.

He stared at me. He knew I was lying. He blew
out a sigh and we left.

Hank had barely rolled his 4Runner to a stop
outside The Kevster’s house when I was out the door.

“Indy, for fuck’s sake!” Hank shouted.

I ran to Kevin’s front door and pounded on
it.

“Kevin, it’s me. Indy Savage, Rock Chick,” I
called, sounding stupid but I was also thinking that maybe Kevin
had the diamonds and I wanted them. I wanted this all to be over. I
didn’t want to be tied to a chair ever again. I wanted that enough
to sound stupid.

I felt Hank come up behind me just as the
door was thrown open.

Kevin reached out and grabbed my arm and
tugged me inside. Every sore, aching muscle in my body screamed out
and Kevin swung the door shut behind me.

Not fast enough, Hank had time to twist his
torso, slammed his shoulder into the door and it flew open, sending
Kevin careening against the opposite wall.