2 Last Diner Standing

by Terri L. Austin

  “Yeah, I got that much, but I was hoping to get a little more. Do you know who she was dating?”

  Diane raised one perfectly groomed brow. “Besides my fiancé, you mean?”

  I nodded. “What’s his name?”

  “Brent Crandall.” She sighed and reached into her Louis Vuitton bag. “Look, I’m not proud of this, okay, but when Brent left me for Crystal, I went a little…” she circled her temple with one finger. “I followed Crystal and took pictures of her. I thought if Brent could see what a slut she was, he’d come back to me.” She pulled an envelope full of photographs from her purse and handed them to me.

  I flipped through a stack of about fifty pics. One thing was apparent. Diane was a horrible photographer. Most of them were out of focus and the rest were headless.

  I glanced up. “Do you know who all these men are?”

  Diane shrugged. “Yeah, I made it my business to know. There were three of them. Some big wig cop, a bodybuilder at the gym, and another dude named Sheik.”

  “Hang on.” I shoved a fry in my mouth then dug through my purse for my notebook and pen. I jotted Brent’s name to my long list.

  “Now, you said something about a big wig cop?

  “Yeah, Martin Mathers.”

  Wicka, wicka, what? I leaned toward her. “Martin Mathers? Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. He’s like the head police guy.”

  He wasn’t like the head police guy. He was the freaking head police guy. “How sure are you?”

  “Really sure. They met at The Huntingford Motor Lodge every Wednesday. Three o’clock every week. He was in and out by four. But they were so stupid, they would stand outside the motel room door and make out.” She reached for the photos and shuffled through them. “Here. It’s kind of blurry. But Crystal’s in her underwear and he’s just standing there, playing grab ass for all the world to see.”

  I glanced at a photo. I supposed that blur could be a man and a smaller figure might be a woman. One thing was clear, it was time for Diane to invest in a better camera.

  “They even used the same room every time. Number six.”

  I glanced at the photo again. So the police chief was Crystal’s sugar daddy. And he was in debt to Sullivan. I wasn’t sure what this meant to Janelle’s case. Maybe nothing. I tried to pull myself together so I could ask a few coherent questions.

  “What can you tell me about Martin?” I dropped the sack of fries on the table.

  “He’s an older guy, married. Bet his wife wouldn’t want to see those pictures.”

  Fortunately for Mrs. Mathers, there wasn’t much to see. I, however, could use a smoking gun right about now.

  Diane turned her head and watched the ball area, then yelled at her kid. “Josh, quit throwing balls at that little girl.”

  I peered over my shoulder and watched him completely ignore his mother and continue to pelt the other kids, making some scream and some retaliate.

  “Did you follow him anywhere else?”

  “Just back to City Hall. That’s how I know who he is. He parked in the spot reserved for the police chief.”

  “Tell me about Sheik.” I probably knew more than she did, but it never hurt to ask.

  “He used to come to the club after he and Crystal started seeing each other. And I do mean come. You catch my drift?”

  Yeah, I got it. And it was gross. But I already knew Crystal gave extras.

  “Crystal dumped my ex, Brent, when she started dating Sheik. Brent was devastated. I tried to tell him that’s what she’s like, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “Devastated how?”

  She hesitated and I leaned forward. “I won’t tell a soul.”

  “At the time, it ate me up with jealousy. Seeing how much he loved her. Brent’s a liquor sales rep, so he comes to the club at least twice a week. It was disgusting, watching them together.” She stared out the window, but I had a feeling she wasn’t looking at the cars in the drive thru lane. “Having to drop Josh off at Brent’s while Crystal was there, smiling, waving, playing with my kid.” She snapped out of it. Glancing at me, she shrugged. “After Crystal broke it off with him, he got all pathetic.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He sent her flowers, candy, gave her hundreds of dollars in tips. Parked in her zone every Tuesday morning like clockwork. He went from boyfriend to customer. Three hours he spends getting all worked up while she humps him. But she wouldn’t give him a happy ending, like she does for practically every other guy. And she laughed about it.”

  “That must have been really hard for you, seeing the father of your son acting like that with Crystal?”

  “Yeah, you could say that. And she used to torture me with it. Made fun of me. Told me he was unsatisfied with my performance, that he loved her and he never loved me.”

  “I’m sorry, Diane.”

  She nodded and glanced at the kids playing. “Josh, play nice,” she called.

  “How long did this go on?” I asked.

  “Until about two weeks ago. One Tuesday, he just didn’t come in.”

  “Do you know what happened?”

  “Maybe he came to his senses. We never talked about it.”

  “So who was the bodybuilder Crystal was seeing?”

  “Kyle Amsted. He works at Fit and Flex.” She flipped through the photos once again. “Here. Freddy gives all the girls a membership to the gym. Crystal and Kyle were going hot and heavy, always laughing and talking as she worked out.”

  I glanced at the photo, couldn’t make out any details, but I dutifully wrote down Kyle’s name. Not quite a suspect, yet, but Brent Crandall certainly might be. Another jealous ex.

  “So whatever happened between you and Brent?”

  She shrugged. “Even after I showed Brent these pics, he accused me of making it up, just to get him back. She was such a horrible bitch.”

  “Was?”

  She blinked, her focus shifting from her son to me. “What?”

  “You said was. She was such a horrible bitch.”

  “You know what I mean. She doesn’t work at The Bottom Dollar anymore. Even Freddy got tired of her bullshit.”

  “Why exactly was she fired?”

  “She made a scene when Sheik came in tossing a ton of money around.” She grinned. “He picked me to go to the VIP room. I worked him up that night until he begged. And Crystal threw a shit fit. It was awesome.”

  “And Freddy threw her out,” I said.

  “Yeah. Then Freddy pulled Sheik into his office and the party was over.”

  I paused, a French fry half way to my mouth. “Freddy Libra asked Sheik to come into his office?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I just said.”

  “How long was Sheik in there?”

  She played with the straw stuck in her large cup. “I don’t know. I got busy with other customers.”

  “Was Clay there that night?”

  “Um, yeah, I think so. Clay’s there most nights. Stuart likes to get a dance from a different girl every night. And he never tips.”

  I felt her pain. “I heard Crystal went into The Bottom Dollar a few days ago and talked to Freddy.” I studied her reaction carefully.

  “Probably wanted to get back on the roster. But she’s not there now, is she?” Hmm, no incriminating expression, no blurted confessions. Damn.

  A young woman approached the table and addressed Diane. “Excuse me, but you need to discipline your son. He’s throwing balls at the other kids and that’s not acceptable.”

  Diane’s face hardened as she stood. “Are you telling me how to raise my kid?” She wagged her sparkly-tipped finger at the woman. “I know you didn’t just say I’m a bad mother.”

  I shoved the photos into my purse and grabbed
my burger. I needed out of there before fists started to fly instead of plastic balls. “Thanks, Diane. I’ll call you.”

  I made my way back to the diner. I’d only been gone an hour, but I was scared to see what had happened in my absence. I hoped the place was still standing.

  Chapter 20

  When I walked into the kitchen, Ray and Jorge rushed around furiously, getting out food, ladling chicken and noodles. Ray raised his head and spied me by the door.

  “Get out there. It’s gone nuts.” Ray using full sentences? He’d passed stressed and was in full panic mode.

  I hastily tied on an apron as I stepped through the swinging door into the dining room. There were now twice as many people as before I left. And no Janelle or Ma.

  Roxy trotted up to me. “Good, you’re back. Take over your tables, but I get the tips.” She grabbed the coffeepot.

  I jumped in and started serving customers. Dillon was actually bussing tables and wiping them down. Better than being stuck in a chicken suit, I supposed. Eventually, I noticed people traipsing in and out of the office.

  I pulled Roxy aside. “What’s going on? Who’s back there?”

  “Duh, Janelle.” She grabbed four plates from the pass thru and whisked them off to the table near the window.

  Ignoring my customers, I stomped down the hallway and barged into the office. Janelle stood against the wall and smiled, her arm thrown around a woman with short hair.

  Ma held a phone in her hand and with her chin raised, she snapped a picture. “Oh, that turned out nice.” She handed the phone to the woman.

  “Thanks. Good luck on the trial.”

  I stepped in front of the metal shelves to let the woman pass. “What the hell is going on in here?”

  Ma peered at me through her trifocals. “Glad you’re here, toots. Roxy could use some help.” She leaned her head out the door. “Next,” she yelled down the hall.

  A man in his twenties stepped into the room and handed his phone to Ma. “Just push this button.” He stood next to Janelle and smiled.

  “Say ‘she’s innocent.’” Ma clicked the camera and looked at the screen. She clicked a button and frowned. “Let’s try that one more time.”

  I walked over and yanked the phone from her hand. “What is going on?”

  Ma jerked the phone back. “Now the screen thing is off. How do I get back to the camera?”

  He took the phone, pushed a few buttons, and handed it back.

  “One more time, kids. ‘She’s innocent.’”

  They repeated the phrase. Ma checked the screen and nodded with satisfaction. “Looks good.”

  He pulled a twenty from his pocket and gave it to Janelle, which she tucked into her ginormous bra. “Hope things turn out for you.”

  “Thanks, baby,” Janelle said.

  “Have you lost it?” I asked. “You’re taking pictures with customers? You know that’s going to wind up on the internet. Someone’s probably already posted it.”

  “Hey, I’m getting twenty bucks a pop. I need to feed my kids and that lawyer you hired ain’t cheap.”

  “Plus, we’ve doubled our customers,” Ma said.

  “This isn’t going to make you look innocent, Janelle. This is going to make you look callous, like you don’t care that Asshat’s in the hospital.”

  She pointed a yellow nail at me. “Listen, I got laid off at the Quickie Mart after my arrest. I need to make some bank.”

  “This is not the way to go about it.”

  “You’re interfering with free enterprise, toots. Move it along and send the next sucker in.”

  I finished my shift and handed the tips off to Roxy, which only further irritated me. Once the crowd cleared out, it was after four. Roxy counted her money while I flipped the closed sign.

  “Did you know Janelle was having her picture taken with the customers?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “Am I the only one who has a problem with this?” My phone vibrated and I pulled it out of my pocket as I walked behind the counter. Dane. Oh, perfect.

  “Hello?”

  “Her picture’s gone viral. What the hell is she doing?”

  I leaned on the counter to relieve the pain in my feet. “I know it’s not the smartest move—”

  “Smart? It could tank our whole case.”

  I perked up. “You actually have a case? You’ve been investigating other suspects?”

  “I just got your list and I’m going through it. But this little stunt sure as hell isn’t going to help her.”

  “I don’t control her, Dane. And I’ve another suspect to add to the list. Diane’s boyfriend, Brent Crandall.”

  “Keep her out of trouble, would you?” he asked and hung up.

  I flipped through my messages and read a text from my sister, Jacks, reminding me that tonight was Scotty’s school Christmas pageant. I wouldn’t miss his performance for anything. As an elf, he was very proud of his curly-toed shoes and pointy ears. Axton was coming, too. He and I were both alumni of the Academy, Huntingford’s most prestigious private elementary school.

  “I’m exhausted,” Roxy said, falling into a chair. “Did you find out anything new from that stripper?”

  “You won’t believe,” I said.

  Janelle sat at the counter and stuck her hand down her shirt, retrieving wads of cash. “Give us the news, girl.”

  I began cleaning the diner and told them about Crystal’s sugar daddy, Martin Mathers, and Brent, her humiliated ex who still wanted her back. “Diane hated Crystal, too. For good reason, but still.”

  “Eight hundred-twenty dollars,” Janelle said. She slapped the bills on the counter. “Not bad for an afternoon. Bet those strippers don’t even make that much.”

  “I still say this is going to end badly.” The words had barely left my mouth when a short man in his forties with a military haircut strode through the door. Officer Andre Thomas followed close behind.

  “Janelle Johnson?” The shorter man held up a silver badge he wore on a chain around his neck. It clashed with his rust-colored tie. “I’m Detective Bradley. I’d like you to come down to the station and answer a few questions.”

  Janelle’s eyes widened. She was on the verge of running, I could tell by the way she focused on the front door.

  I laid my hand on hers. “It’s all right, I’ll come with you and I’ll call Dane.” I kept my hand on Janelle’s and addressed Officer Hard Ass. “What’s this about?”

  The detective did the talking. “We just need to ask Ms. Johnson a few questions.”

  Roxy sidled up to the men. “What about? She has a right to know.”

  Detective Bradley quickly scanned Roxy and dismissed her. “Ms. Johnson, Crystal Waters was found murdered. We’d like to talk to you about that. Your friend can follow along, if she chooses. But you’re not under arrest at this time.”

  Janelle swallowed. She opened her mouth to speak, but I squeezed her fingers hard.

  “She’s not going anywhere until she speaks to her attorney.” I finally released her hand and dug my phone out of my pocket. Of course I couldn’t reach Dane, so I left him a message.

  Officer Hard Ass watched me closely, with his cold, hazel eyes. Then he took Janelle’s arm. “Please come with us, ma’am.” By this time, it was obvious she was in shock.

  “I’ll call Sondra and we’ll be right behind you,” I said. “Don’t say a word without Dane.” I glanced over at Roxy. She clutched the rag tightly as she watched Janelle get escorted from the diner and stuffed into the back of the police cruiser.

  “Is that legal? Can they do this? She’s not under arrest,” she said.

  “I don’t know. Do you want to go to the station with me?”

  Roxy’s face paled a
nd looked ghostly against her bright blue hair. “Yeah. Of course.”

  “Give me a sec and I’ll let Ma know what’s going on.” I walked to the kitchen and explained the situation.

  Ma gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh my Lord. It was the pictures, wasn’t it? I got her in trouble?”

  I patted her arm. “I don’t think so. Can you please keep calling Dane?” I programmed his number into her phone.

  The dishwasher was running and Jorge banged pots and pans around, so I slipped into the pantry to call Sondra. She was understandably upset, but promised to take care of the kids until Janelle got home. If she got home.

  As Roxy drove, I kept trying to reach Dane until his voicemail was full.

  At the police station, in the little room across from the front desk, Roxy and I walked, too nervous to sit still. I kept texting Dane as I made circuit after circuit around the room.

  Finally, after two hours, Janelle walked toward us. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. When we tried to ask her about what had happened, she shook her head and waved us off. “I just want my kids.”

  “Roxy, why don’t you drive Janelle to her car and follow her home.” I dug out the wad of cash Janelle had left at the diner and added the extra hundred dollar bill from Sullivan. “I’ll call you later.”

  I watched them drive off and texted Axton to come and pick me up. As I waited by the glass front door, I shivered from the cold air that seeped through the edges. Blue and white lights brightly outlined the gazebo across the street, but they didn’t make me feel the holiday spirit. Janelle hadn’t put Asshat in a coma and she sure as hell hadn’t killed Crystal. But if we didn’t find out who did, she was going to go to jail for both.

  Deep in my thoughts, I nearly leapt off the ground when a hand touched my shoulder. I twirled around and found Officer Hard Ass giving me the hairy eyeball.

  “You didn’t leave with your friend?” he asked.

  “You know, with detecting skills like that, I can’t believe you’re still in a uniform.”

  He hitched his fingers in his belt and rocked up on his heels. With broad shoulders and chiseled features, he’d be handsome if he weren’t such a joyless human being.