“That guy’s got some anger issues.”
Roxy held up a rub-on flaming heart tattoo she’d gotten from the machine. “For sure.”
We made one more stop at the vet clinic to talk to Sheik’s sister, Roshanda. It was after five and the office was surprisingly busy. While Roxy and I waited in line for our turn at the desk, a tan cat pounced on Roxy’s feet and made figure eights between her legs.
“Cats love me,” she said, reaching down to rub behind its ears.
When I stepped up to the front desk, I asked to speak to Roshanda.
A young woman about my age glanced over her shoulder. “She’s really busy.”
“I’ll just slip on back. I only need to talk to her for a second.” She didn’t stop us as we darted behind the desk.
I opened a door and was hit with howls, hisses, and whines.
Cages lined opposite walls. Dogs on one side, cats on the other.
A woman in pink scrubs and a short, blond afro sped past us. “Who are you?” She reached into one of the dog cages and pulled out a trembling pug.
“I’m a friend of Janelle’s. I need to talk to you about Sheik.”
She hooked a leash to the dog’s collar and strode toward the front of the office. “Walk with me.”
For a second, I didn’t know if she was talking to me or the dog.
I ran to catch up. “You’re the one who called Janelle and told her that Sheik was throwing money around. Why did you do that?”
She stepped through the door. “Puddles? Owner of Puddles?”
A woman in red slacks and a silk blouse came forward. She leaned down and scooped up the shaking dog. “How’s my Puddlewuddles? How’s my boy?”
“He’s doing better. Doc says feed him soft food and keep an eye on him. If the symptoms come back, take him to the emergency animal clinic.” Roshanda spun and sidestepped her way around me.
“I called Janelle because I know she’s struggling. If Sheik got a hold of some money, she deserves her share for those kids.” She walked back down the hall and I trailed her.
“But how did you find out Sheik had money in the first place?”
She glanced over at me with a raised brow. “Crystal called me, raising hell. Wanted to know where Sheik got the money and demanded half. I told her to blow it out her skinny white ass.”
In the back room, Roxy stood next to the cat cages, rubbing the chin of a calico. “Where do you think Sheik got the money?” she asked.
Roshanda stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Who are you girls?”
“I’m Rose, that’s Roxy. We’re trying to help Janelle. She was arrested, you know.”
She sighed. “I know and I can’t help but feel responsible. I told her about Sheik and the money. I should have kept it to myself. And no, I have no idea where he got it. But he borrowed three hundred dollars from me last month, and I need it back.”
“What about his girlfriends?” I asked.
She walked over the cat cages and opened a door. She whisked a black kitten out and stroked its fur. “I’m not sure. Sheik is like a tomcat, dicking around where he shouldn’t be. I try my best to stay out of his love life. I’d need some kind of scorecard to keep up with him, and frankly, I’m just not that interested.”
It was close to six by the time I got back to my apartment. I dug out my notebook and started making a list of questions. Top of the list, where did Asshat get that money? Also, why did he have photos of Sullivan hidden in his toilet? If he was following Sullivan, why?
Then I made a list of the players and a little description of each. Muffler Man, Marcus Walker, had been a wash. But Janelle said he was shady. I wondered what she meant by that. I added Freddy Libra, because he owned the club where Asshat spent his money. I still needed to talk to Chicken Licker, as well as Little Donnell, Asshat’s brother.
I chewed the end of my pen and tried to decide if anyone else made the cut when my phone rang.
“Rose, this is Sondra, Janelle’s cousin. Damon’s sick.”
Chapter 8
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into her driveway with supplies. When Sondra opened the door, she looked exhausted.
“Thanks for coming. Damon’s been throwing up for the last two hours.”
Sherise and two little boys huddled around the too loud TV. I followed Sondra through to the kitchen and set the grocery bag on the counter. “Have you called the doctor?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think it’s that bad, but I don’t want him to get dehydrated. And I couldn’t leave the kids to run to the store.”
I stepped into the living room and walked to the sofa where Damon lay, looking tired and drawn. His lips were dry and large purple circles ringed his glassy eyes. “How you doing, kiddo? You want a little 7-UP?”
He shook his head.
“We’re going to have to get him to drink,” Sondra said. She went to the kitchen and returned with a glass. “I mixed the electrolyte drink with the soda.”
“Damon,” I said and stroked his forehead. He felt warm to the touch. “I want you to drink a little bit of this, okay?”
He tried to sit up. I held the glass to his mouth and he sipped before letting his head fall back onto the sofa pillow. “I want my mom.”
I stroked his short hair. “I know, sweetie.” The lights of the Christmas tree in the corner mocked me with their cheery blinking.
“When is she coming home?”
“Soon.”
“Promise?”
Those sad brown eyes got to me. It was Christmastime and the kid was sick. He needed his mom. I took a deep breath. “Yeah, Damon, I promise.”
Sondra shook her head in disapproval. But I was going to get Janelle out of jail, if I had to break her out myself.
“I need to make a quick call,” I said over the blaring cartoons.
“Up the stairs, first bedroom on the right.”
“Thanks.” I took the short flight of stairs and stepped into a bedroom. The queen bed, with its blue and green striped comforter, took up almost every square inch of space. I shut the door behind me and with a shaky hand dialed Sullivan.
“Hello, Rose.”
I took a fortifying breath and blew it out. “I need a favor.”
Long pause. “Are you sure?”
No, not at all. “I need ten thousand to get my friend, Janelle, out of jail. One of her kids is sick and they need her. I don’t know how I’m going to pay you back.” I couldn’t even afford to buy a used car right now. Ten thousand? It might as well be a hundred thousand.
Another one of those long ass silences. “All right,” he said. “I’ll have her out tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” I hit the end button and wondered if I’d just signed my life away.
I left the bedroom and trotted down the stairs to Sondra and Damon. “I got someone to post bail. She should be out tomorrow.”
Sondra stared into my eyes. “What did you do? If it were this easy, she’d be home by now. Who’d you get the money from?”
I smiled. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I glanced down at Damon. “He finally fell asleep, huh?”
“Yeah, I got some fluid down him. I’ll wake him up every thirty minutes and give him a little more.”
“You need me to stick around and help out with the kids?”
She hesitated a moment. “If you don’t mind.”
I spent the evening making macaroni and cheese, reading bedtime stories, and washing a sink full of dishes. As I scrubbed bowls and spoons, my gut clenched in anxiety. I knew I had done the right thing for Janelle, but how was I going to pay back Sullivan?
The next morning I met up with Roxy in the diner parking lot and told her about my debt problem.
“How are you going to come u
p with ten thousand dollars? Does Sullivan expect you to sex him up?”
“I’m not having sex with him, jeez.” At least not for money. I mentally slapped myself.
“Just asking,” Roxy said.
When we walked into the kitchen, Ma was waiting for us, looking as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. “Girls, come with me. I’ve got something to show you.”
Exchanging glances, Roxy and I followed Ma through the dining room and into the office. At the green metal storage cabinet, she opened the door and waved her hand with the flourish of a game show hostess. “Ta da!”
“Forget it. I’m not wearing that,” I said.
Roxy shook her blue curls. “Me, neither.”
“Of course not,” Ma said. “It’s for Dillon.”
I stared at the giant, fuzzy, yellow chicken suit in relief.
“Who’s Dillon?” Roxy asked, smacking her gum.
“The busboy.” Ma pulled the suit out of the cabinet. “I’d wear it myself, but I’d never be able to get in and out of that thing. Not with my hip. What do you think?”
“I’m sure he’ll love it.” Poor New Kid. He’d sat around the last two days doing less than nothing, now it was time to pay the piper. Karma was a bitch.
Roxy and I went to work, and by six we had customers waiting. At seven, Dillon stepped out of the office, his face visible through the chicken beak.
The customers stopped eating to gawk as he made his way to the front door. He stopped next to my table. “I’m not getting paid enough for this, man. Being a chicken sucks.”
I patted his wing. “Better you than me.” Then I whipped out my phone and snapped a picture of him. If he didn’t start pulling his weight around here, I’d use it for blackmailing purposes.
We worked steadily until nine when a regular stepped through the door, a newspaper tucked under his arm. “Hey, what’s that chicken doing outside?”
I glanced out the window. Ma had given Dillon a sign to hold up to help spread the word about our chicken specials. But New Kid had tossed it aside and was standing on the sidewalk, playing with his phone.
Roxy joined me. “That new kid’s a dick.”
As the morning progressed, I occasionally checked on him. I’d never seen a chicken flip the bird before. He gave everyone who drove by the one-fingered salute. With both hands. How was this helping business again?
That afternoon, lunch really started to pick up. By noon, people were actually waiting outside the diner for tables. By one, we still had customers, and by three, we had to turn people away.
“See, just like I told you,” Ma crowed. Or should I say clucked. “Chicken. That’s the answer. And tomorrow’s special: chicken pot pie. If business stays this brisk, we may have to hire another cook. Maybe we’ll expand the diner. I don’t see why we can’t stay open for dinner.”
Dillon marched himself inside. He had to with those floppy chicken feet. “Look at me. Some idiot poured beer all over my legs.”
Roxy stared at his drumsticks. “You better hope it was beer. Could have been pee.”
Before I could comment, my phone vibrated. I tugged it from my jeans pocket. Sullivan.
“Hey,” I said. I left Roxy and Dillon by the front door and slipped behind the counter. “What’s up?”
“Just wanted you to know your friend is out of jail. Henry took her home.”
“Thanks. So, how are we going to do this? Do I pay you weekly or something?”
Pause. I wiped down the counter with my free hand and waited him out.
“We can negotiate later.”
Now I paused. “I’m not having sex with you.”
“I’m going to enjoy proving you wrong.” Then he hung up.
Holy freaking cow. He was joking. He had to be. Sex with Sullivan would be…amazing. But it wasn’t happening. My legs were firmly closed where that man was concerned. He was a criminal. I had to keep reminding myself that it mattered.
As I stared down at my phone, it vibrated again. This time Janelle.
“Rose, I don’t know what you did, girl, but I owe you big time.”
“No, we’re good. I’m just glad you’re out. How’s Damon?”
“Better. His fever broke. I’m going to pay you back, I swear. I know you borrowed money from Sullivan. And that Henry’s a bad mofo. Scared the bejeezus out of me.”
Henry was scary, but I didn’t want to her to worry about all this now. She had enough on her plate and if we didn’t find out who put Asshat in a coma, she was going back to jail for a long time.
“We can talk about it later. In the meantime, just enjoy being home with your kids.”
She sniffed. “I’m going to help you find who did this to Asshat. He wasn’t much of a husband. Or man. Or a lover. But he is the kids’ dad and he didn’t deserve this.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Roxy wipe down the tables and Ma snag the empty coffeepot on her way to the kitchen.
“Janelle, let’s talk about all this later. I’ve got to help clean up the diner.”
“Come by for dinner tonight. Tariq and Sondra and her kids are coming. It’s kind of a welcome home. Six o’clock. Bring Roxy, too.”
“You got it.”
“Girl, I hate to ask—you’ve done so much already—but how’s it coming? Are you any closer to finding out who hit Asshat?”
“I’m sorry, Janelle, not yet. And I still need to talk to LD.”
“You’ll find out the truth, Rose. You found Axton, didn’t you?”
I wasn’t sure if Janelle’s faith in me was justified, but I was going to do everything I could to help her. “Yeah. Gotta go.”
I walked to the office, grabbed the broom, then Roxy and I commenced with cleanup. New Kid stood out front, smoking and yakking on his phone.
Roxy stood at the window and watched him with longing as she chomped her nicotine gum. “It’s official. I hate that kid.”
“Hey, Janelle invited us for dinner at six. Tariq will be there.”
“Shit, that only gives me two hours to get ready. I don’t have a thing to wear.”
Chapter 9
I walked into Janelle’s house and was treated to the spicy smell of oregano, basil, and garlic. My stomach did a back flip from hunger.
In the living room, a four-foot Christmas tree was completely covered in kids’ craft ornaments. I was glad I’d called Sullivan. This was where Janelle belonged.
Damon and his cousins sat on the floor playing video games and Sherise braided Roxy’s hair.
“Hey,” Roxy said, not moving her head. Looked like she found something to wear: a short black dress edged with pink pom poms and a hot pink Bambi embroidered on the skirt.
“You’re hair looks beautiful.”
Roxy grinned. “Sherise is the best hairdresser evah.”
Sherise bopped Roxy’s head. “Hold still.”
Sondra waved me into the kitchen where Janelle stood at the stove and stirred a pot of sauce. She looked better than she had in jail, but there were lines of tension around her eyes and mouth.
When she saw me, she handed the long wooden spoon off to Sondra and threw her arms around me. She squeezed until I thought I might pass out. “Thanks for getting me out of jail. My babies needed me.” She pulled away.
“You’re welcome. Can we talk a minute?”
“I’m so damn glad to be home, I’ll give you two.” She led me to the master bedroom. A pretty quilt covered the bed and an antique dresser stood against one wall.
“What’s up, girl? You look all worried and your ass wasn’t even in jail. You nervous about paying Sullivan back? Because I’ve decided to drop out of school and get a full-time job.”
“No, that’s not it. Roxy and I broke into Asshat’s house and found this
.” I pulled the pictures of Sullivan and the handwritten pages from my purse.
Her brows lowered as she stared at the photos. “Who’s this?”
“Sullivan.”
She whistled. “That’s Sullivan? Damn. He’s one mighty fine piece of ass.”
Yes, he was. “Could someone have been paying Asshat to watch Sullivan?”
Janelle scoffed. “Asshat wouldn’t know how to do undercover. The man does everything he can to draw attention to himself, like a damn peacock. And this isn’t his handwriting.” She handed everything back to me.
Well that added a whole new slew of questions, but before I could articulate any of them, my phone vibrated. I held a finger up to Janelle and answered.
“Um, Jane? This is Jess.” It was hard to hear her over the loud music.
I wracked my brain. “Jess?”
“You know, Satin Lace, from The Bottom Dollar?”
My brow unfurrowed. The stripper I had talked to in the bathroom. “Right, how are you?”
“Listen, Crystal’s here in Freddy’s office. Just thought you’d like to know.” Then she hung up.
“Who was that?” Janelle asked.
“Jess the stripper. Chicken Licker has been sighted. I’m going to try and catch her.”
Janelle hopped off the bed. “Not without me, you’re not.”
“I don’t think that such a goo—”
“I’m not playing with you right now.” She pointed a yellow fingernail at me. “Shut up and get your shit.”
Janelle, Roxy, and I didn’t have to pay a cover to get into the club. Apparently, every night was ladies night at The Bottom Dollar.
The place was packed with men in suits, men in jeans and work jackets, and a group of college-aged guys by the door. Hardly anyone noticed us because all eyes were riveted to the naked woman on stage, shaking her butt in time to the music, or the various women in Santa hats scattered throughout the room riding men’s laps like bull riders in a rodeo.
2 Last Diner Standing Page 7
