After my last customer left, I fell into a chair and buried my head in my arms. Roxy sat across from me and propped her feet up in my lap.
“I’m exhausted,” I said.
“Yeah, that lunch crowd is demanding. Some asshole left me fifty cents. That’s an insult.”
Dillon flapped his chicken feet into the diner. “Look at this.” Black singe marks scorched the tips of his yellow feathers. “People threw lit smokes at me. What the hell, man? Who does that?”
I raised my head. “Maybe we should talk to Ma. All of us together. Tell her we think lunch should be off the menu.”
Ma burst through the kitchen door, her arms in the air. “Seventy-five lunchers today, girls. That’s a new record. And Dillon, that chicken suit is a big hit. I told you this would work.”
Roxy raised one brow. “Yeah, she seems receptive.”
Dillon spread his wings and stormed off to change. His feet slapping against the linoleum with every step.
Ma walked stiffly toward us and patted us on the backs. “Good work today. And I have leftover pot pies I can freeze for next week.”
Next week? I was hoping she’d give up on this idea long before next week.
Roxy and I slowly rose to our feet and commenced with clean up.
“What are we doing today? Any new suspects?” Roxy emptied the spent coffee grounds from the machine.
“Thought I’d bop on over to the Clip N Curl and talk to someone named Vi. Apparently she and Asshat were close. And then I thought I’d stop over to the muffler shop again and see what the hell Marcus was doing with Crystal last night.”
“Yeah, that’s an interesting matchup.”
When we finished cleaning the diner, Roxy and I stopped by Paco’s Tacos for a late lunch. After snarfing down a taco each, we hopped onto Ash Avenue.
There was a waiting line at the Clip N Curl. An elderly woman, two men, one mom holding a squirming toddler with a snotty nose, and one teenager with multiple piercings sat in chairs reading out-of-date celebrity magazines. Well, the toddler didn’t. He kept screaming every time his mom set him on the floor to play with his bear.
Roxy and I stood at the reception desk. “But I’m not here to get my hair done,” I said. “I’m here to see Vi.”
“Hang on one second, hon.” The woman behind the desk held up her finger and answered the phone. “Clip N Curl. Sure, we can squeeze you in.” She grabbed a pen and flipped through the appointment book.
Tired of waiting, I walked past her and into the salon. Three stylists cut, coiffed and sprayed their clients. I approached a woman with spiky black hair and funky purple glasses. “Sorry to bother you.”
She slid a straightener over her customer’s long, brown hair. Steam escaped the edges. First she glanced at me, then Roxy. “Love the color, honey. Who does that for you?”
“Thanks.” Roxy adjusted her Alice band and smoothed a hand over a blue lock. “Bonita over at The Shag Shack.”
The woman nodded. “She did a good job.”
“Is Vi working today?” I asked.
She raised a brow and lowered her voice. “She’s supposed to be. But she’s hiding in the back. Tell her to get her ass out here, would ya? If she thinks I’m giving that little monster a haircut, she’s crazier than she looks.” She pointed with the straightener toward the back of the room, past three dryer chairs to a curtained doorway.
“Thanks,” I said.
She reached out and ran her fingers through my ponytail. “You need a good conditioner, honey.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” I turned to Roxy and raised my brows.
“My hair’s perfectly conditioned,” she said smugly.
We walked to the curtain and I pulled it aside to reveal shelves of hair product and a washer and dryer. A blonde in her twenties with glittery gold hair extensions removed brown hand towels from the dryer. She wore a hot pink blouse that showed more cleavage than it covered and her pants were so tight, I wondered how she even got them on.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to be back here. It’s for employees only.” She eyed Roxy’s blue mane. “Good color on you. Matches your eyes.”
She preened a bit. “Thanks.”
“You’re Vi?” I asked.
Shaking out a towel, she gazed at me warily. “Yeah. Who’re you?”
“She’s Jane. I’m Beth,” Roxy said.
“We had a few questions about Sheik Johnson.” I tucked my hands in my jacket pockets and watched her face. From the tightening of her lips, I’d say just hearing Sheik’s name pissed her off.
“What about him?” With jerky movements, she folded a towel.
“He came into some money recently,” I said.
“Ha, like I’ll ever see any of it.”
“He owed you money?” Roxy asked. “How much?”
“That asshole stole my credit card. And the police wouldn’t do anything because I’d let him borrow before.”
“Did you cancel the card?” I asked.
“Yeah, two weeks after I noticed it was missing. Not only did he give me gonorrhea, he racked up like fifteen hundred dollars on my Visa.” She threw the towel on top of the washing machine.
“Are you sure he’s the one who gave it to you?” Roxy asked. “The gonorrhea?” she whispered.
“Do I look like a slut to you?” Vi tapped her boob for emphasis. The one with a tattoo that read Hot Bitch in Old English script.
“No, not at all,” I said. “So you don’t know where Sheik got the money?”
“He probably stole it from one of his other girlfriends.”
“Do you know who else he was seeing?” Roxy asked.
“I know he saw stripper named Destiny before we met,” Vi said. “And I checked his phone once and found a text from some bitch named Crystal.” She pursed her bright pink lips. “And there was a whore who works at Huntingford Bank and Trust. Brenda. She’s old, like in her forties. She used to text him all the time. Send pictures of herself. When I’m forty, if my tits sag like that, I’ll kill myself.”
From the front of the salon I heard the little kid scream at the top of his lungs.
“I think that’s your next client,” I said.
“No way. I’ll probably cut off his ear. Not going through that again. Do you know how many capillaries are in the human ear?” She studied me with a critical eye. “You need a trim. Maybe some low lights. Come back and see me.”
Never going to happen.
Roxy and I left the salon and climbed into the Honda.
“Think she’s a suspect?” Roxy asked.
“Sheik stole her money, gave her an STD, and cheated on her. We should probably add her name.”
We stopped at the muffler shop on the way back to the diner. But it turned out our big adventure was uneventful. Marcus didn’t show up for work and didn’t bother calling in.
I dropped Roxy off by her car in Ma’s lot and headed home.
Chapter 12
When I got to my apartment, Axton was waiting for me.
“Sorry I’m late.” I stepped over him and unlocked the door. “By the way, Marcus Walker didn’t show up for work today.”
“Dude, that’s always trouble when they don’t show up for work.” He picked up the pizza and a large brown paper bag and followed me inside.
I dropped my purse and keys on the cherry table in the corner. “I know. Did you find any info on him?” I shrugged out of my coat and hung it next to the door.
“First, we need to address your Christmas issues,” he said.
“Ax, I don’t have Christmas issues. But I’m beginning to think you might.”
He dug into the sack and pulled out an eighteen-inch Christmas tree. “What do you think?”
“Um, it’s really pi
nk.” But I had to admit, it made me smile.
Ax dumped my purse from the table and set the tree on top. “See? How’s that? Get the Christmas blood flowing a little bit?” He pulled out a package of tiny lights.
Despite my recent anti-holiday stance, I moved toward the funky tree. Axton was a sweetie. If he wanted me to participate in a little Christmas, I could do that for him. “All right, let’s get this sucker decked.”
He grinned. “Now you’re talking.”
Together we strung the lights over the small tree and hooked mini metallic balls in pink, red, and silver on the boughs. It looked weird. Not traditional. But very fitting in my shabby apartment.
“And now,” he said dramatically, “wait until you see what I got for a topper.” Watching me, he thrust his hand into the bag and drew out a tiny plastic tiara trimmed in pink marabou.
I started laughing. He placed it on top of the tree and stood back, eyeing his handiwork.
“That looks awesome, dude.”
I stood next to him and smiled. “Yeah, it does. Thanks, Ax.”
He threw his arm around my neck and gave me a noogie with his free hand. “You’re welcome. Christmas kicks ass. Deal with it.”
I grabbed plates, the pizza, and paper napkins while Ax snagged two beers from the fridge. “So show me what you found,” I said.
“Don’t you want to eat first?”
“I’ll read while I’m chewing.”
He handed me a folder. “Marcus Walker. Got eight arrests under his belt. Not like, a career criminal, but dude’s got a temper and isn’t picky about offloading stuff that isn’t his.”
I flipped through it, looked at Marcus’ mug shots. A DUI twenty years ago. The charges were reduced to reckless driving and he paid a hefty fine. Two more arrests ten years ago—one for assault, the other public intoxication. Probation on both. He got in an altercation with a girlfriend a year ago, but the charges were later dropped. And he’d been convicted of selling stolen merchandise four separate times. But no details about what he’d sold. Served a one year stint in prison.
“Marcus likes to fight.” I took a bite of pizza and continued to read.
“Yeah, but only gets into trouble when he’s been drinking.” Ax took a very ironic swig of beer. “Now the stolen stuff, that’s another story.”
“Do we know what he was selling?”
Ax ripped off a large pepperoni from his slice and tossed it in his mouth. “Stolen car parts, mostly. But also a car stereo and a set of rims. But the car parts landed him in prison.”
LD had a garage that used stolen parts. Marcus sold stolen car parts. Sounded like a connection to me.
“I’ll keep looking for the bald dude,” he said.
“Thanks. I think I’ll go talk to Marcus tonight. Want to go with me?”
He shot me a look. “Like Robin to your Batman?”
“Yep.”
I ate two slices of pizza and Ax polished off the rest. While he ate, I texted Roxy to see if she wanted to go with us. If Marcus wasn’t home, we needed to break into the house.
She texted back with a yes, so we stopped to pick her up on the way.
When she opened the car door, Ax held his thumb to his mouth like a microphone. “Playing the role of Batgirl this evening, Roxy Block.”
“Whatevs.” She climbed into the backseat and I could feel the excitement roll off her. “Need me to pick a lock, huh? You know I’ve been practicing at home, trying to improve my time.”
I twisted around and peered at her. “Don’t get too excited, he might be home.”
“You need to have a more positive attitude.”
I chuckled, even though she wasn’t kidding.
“So guess who called and asked me out?” she said.
“Tariq?”
Even in the dark, with nothing but street lights illuminating her face, I could see her grin. “Yep.”
“Wait, Janelle’s cousin?” Axton turned down the radio and gazed at Roxy in the rearview mirror.
“Someone’s got it bad,” I said, parroting her words back to her.
“Shut up.” She gazed out the window, still smiling.
Five minutes later, Axton pulled across the street from Marcus’ bungalow on the southeast side of town. It was dark, no lights on inside. We’d decided that Roxy and I would go up to the house, knock, and if no one answered, we’d slip around back and break in. Axton would keep watch and call us if someone came home.
I was about to get out of the car when Marcus’ front door opened and the bald man I’d seen at the strip club stepped out of the house, followed by the weasely, thin guy who’d accompanied him into Freddy’s office.
“Duck,” I said.
Without asking any questions, Roxy flopped over in the backseat and Axton scrunched down behind the wheel. I hunched over, but popped up a bit to view Baldy’s progress.
He swiveled his head and glanced up and down the street as he walked to a dark SUV parked on the curb in front of the house.
“What’s going on up there?” Roxy asked.
“Remember that bald guy, Clay, who went into Freddy Libra’s office at The Bottom Dollar the other night? Well, he just came out of the house.” When the SUV turned around, the headlights hit Axton’s car. I waited a few seconds then peeked again. “Coast is clear.”
“Did you get a license plate number?” Axton asked.
“Damn. No,” I said.
I gave Axton the speedy version of my theory that someone had a hit out on Sullivan. “Could be this Clay guy. Sullivan’s face went blank when I mentioned his name.”
“I hate to say this,” Axton said, “but I wonder if you should call Sullivan for back up.”
“If we find anything in the house, I’ll call him.” I grabbed two penlights and four latex gloves out of my purse, then handed Roxy her share.
“Does Ma know you’re swiping these?”
“She’d understand.”
As Roxy and I walked toward the house, I scanned the street, tripping over a dirt clod as I checked out the homes either side of Marcus’ bungalow. Christmas lights decorated a few eaves and one front yard held an inflatable Santa that swayed back and forth in the breeze. Other than that, no movement.
“You’re real graceful,” Roxy whispered.
“Shut your pie hole,” I said as we approached the front door. I knocked, knowing there’d be no answer, but I needed to be sure.
When no one came to the door, we walked around the side to the tiny back yard.
I shined my light on the door knob as Roxy dug out her Allen wrench. She made quick work of the lock.
What had Baldy and his sidekick been looking for? The money? And where was Marcus? Had he and Crystal gone into hiding? The questions compounded on one another and I still hadn’t come up with any answers.
I handed Roxy her flashlight as we stepped into the small galley kitchen. The place was a wreck. Every cabinet door stood open, the contents strewn all over the counters and floor.
“Shit,” Roxy said.
“Let’s check out the rest of the house.”
Picking my way over crap spilled in the kitchen, I tiptoed into the L-shaped living room/dining room combo and swept my penlight over slashed seat cushions, a broken TV, the smashed side table. “Let’s go. Either Clay already found what he was looking for or it’s not here.”
“Whatever ‘it’ is,” Roxy said.
We ran out of the house and through the yard. My eyes flew over the houses and cars along the street as we made our way back to Axton. All was quiet and still.
“Well?” he asked when we climbed in.
“Baldy trashed the place.”
“You guys okay?” Axton started the car and glanced over at me.
“Y
eah, fine,” I said.
Marcus’ house was trashed, he hadn’t shown up for work, and he drove Crystal to The Bottom Dollar last night. Where was he now?
Baldy had been looking for something. Probably the money. That was the only thing that made sense.
And if Asshat stole the money and the surveillance stuff on Sullivan, then who took all those notes and pictures in the first place? Baldy? His sidekick?
Something didn’t feel right. I was off somewhere. I was missing pieces of the puzzle.
Axton reached over and grabbed my hand. “You all right?”
I squeezed his fingers. I loved this guy. He was the brother I never thought I wanted. I turned my head and smiled at him. “I’m good.”
He dropped Roxy off at her apartment and she slapped my shoulder. “If you can’t sleep tonight, call me.” She hopped out of the car and jogged into the building.
Axton propped his elbow on the door. “Still having trouble sleeping, huh?”
“Only sometimes.”
“If you want to talk—”
“Ax, I’m fine.”
He remained quiet until he pulled up to my apartment. “Let me come inside and check things out.”
I leaned over and kissed his scruffy cheek. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. See you later.”
We both exited the car and he tossed me the keys before sauntering off to Stoner Joe’s truck.
When I got to my apartment, I called Janelle and told her about Vi. “Asshat gave her an STD and stole her credit card.”
Janelle blew out a breath. “Lucky for me, I quit sleeping with that fool a long time ago. What else is going on?”
I told her about Marcus and Baldy and the trashed house. “I wonder where he’s hiding. And how did he and Crystal hook up?”
“She’s probably screwing him, too.”
“Would Marcus do that to Sheik?” I glanced at my hot pink Christmas tree. “And Sheik was also seeing someone named Brenda who works at Huntingford Bank and Trust. Thought I’d head over there after I get off work tomorrow.”
2 Last Diner Standing Page 10
