Klingon Brian was already there, talking to Bee Hive, which made Roxy chomp her gum a little louder than usual. “Look at her. She’s practically rubbing her tits all over him.”
Brian threw back his head and laughed at something Bee Hive said. She wasn’t exactly rubbing up against him, but her body language said she’d sure as hell like to.
“Stay cool. We’re here to find the missing uniform.”
When Brian saw us, he walked away from the SPuRTs to meet us. “Hey, Rox. Glad you came.”
Joe gravitated to an orange bowling ball. He reached out and rubbed his hand over it, as if it were made of crystal and ready to show him his future. I didn’t need to read his palm to know what life had in store for Stoner Joe—untold bongloads and endless bags of Funyuns.
“Are the Starfleet peeps open to talking to me?” I asked Brian.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve told them who you are and that you’re trying to find the uniform.” He led us over to the group who stood at attention with their eyes forward. One man stood in front of all the rest. On the hefty side, his red uniform was snug. So snug I could see the imprint of his bellybutton. I put him somewhere in his fifties, judging by his salt and pepper goatee.
“I am Captain Mark Smith of the reconnaissance ship, USS Tomahawk. It’s a pleasure to have you with us. Welcome.”
“Thanks. I’m Rose. This is my friend Roxy. You all know Axton and Ma.” There were several head bobs. “And,” I glanced over my shoulder to introduce Joe, but couldn’t find him. I faced the group. “It’s great to be here.”
Mark inclined his head.
“How would you like to handle this, Rose? If I may call you by your given name?” There was no hint of a smile. Only serious business afoot. These Fleeties weren’t screwing around.
“Well, why don’t you guys continue to bowl and Roxy and I will sit over here.” I pointed to the row of chairs. “Maybe you could speak to us one on one?” That way, one of them might let something slip. Find the weakest of the Starfleet pack and divide them from the herd. King of the jungle style. “And do you mind if Ma bowls with you?”
A young woman with glasses stepped forward. “We’d be happy to have you on our team, Ma.”
“Terrific,” she said, turning to give me a broad wink that involved opening her mouth so wide I could see her uvula.
Captain Mark gestured for Roxy and me to sit in the plastic, orange molded chairs behind the lanes.
Roxy plopped in the seat, but she was scoping out Brian and Bee Hive and getting more pissed off by the minute. If her jaws worked any faster, I was afraid she’d wind up with TMJ.
I extracted my trusty notebook. “May I call you Mark?”
He parked in the row in front of us and swiveled around, leaning his forearms across the top of his chair. “I’d prefer Captain Smith, if you don’t mind.”
Oh brother. I should’ve made him call me Pocahontas, just to mess with him.
“All right, Captain Smith. Tell me about the laser tag incident.”
His bushy caterpillar eyebrows fell so low, I could barely see his eyes. “We played a close game. It was neck and neck, but eventually, the Starfleet Planetary Reconnaissance Team won.”
“Who is that slut?” Roxy muttered.
I placed my hand on her knee. “Settle.”
“After dinner and drinks,” he continued, “we adjourned to Divak Khard’s home to commence with the awards. As you know, the prize was discovered missing.”
“Did anyone leave the table at the restaurant? Anyone gone for more than a couple of minutes at the bar?”
He cast his eyes downward. “It’s hard to say.” Was he hiding something? Those shifty eyeballs made me suspicious.
“What can you tell me about your fellow Starfleet members?” “Surely, you don’t suspect one of my crew is the thief?”
“Not at all, Captain Smith. I just want to get a feel for what happened that day,” I said.
“I won’t color your experience. Talk to them yourself and make up your own mind.”
“Fair enough. But let me ask you this, what do you think happened to the missing uniform?”
He looked me square in the eye. “One of the KAWs took it. Starfleet is above reproach.” He stood, tugged on the hem of his shirt, and stomped his red-and-pea-green bowling shoes off to the lane.
Roxy slapped my arm. “Look at her. She keeps touching him. How would he like it if I rubbed up against some random dude?”
“Probably not so much.”
She fluffed her sleeves and flattened her Princess Leia buns with the palms of her hands. “Let’s just find out.”
Chapter 20
A pinched-face man walked over and took the seat Roxy had just vacated. “Hello. I’m Ensign Ray Jones.”
“Nice to meet you. So, can you tell me a little about Starfleet? How does it work, exactly?” The KAWs were pretty clear. Dress up, drink, and grunt. But the Fleeties were a different bird.
“We’re a national organization with a love for Star Trek, obviously.” Running a hand over his uniform, his smile held a touch of self-deprecation. At least he didn’t take himself as seriously as Smith. “We have regions and local chapters, attend Cons. We bowl every Tuesday. We’re just a club.”
I glanced at the pin on his collar, signifying rank. “What does an ensign do?”
His smile strained a bit. “Keeps the ship running.”
“What does that mean in club terms?” I was sort of fascinated by all this hierarchy. It was just like the police force or the military. But with no authority whatsoever.
“I make sure there’s coffee for the meetings. I assist the others in any way I can.”
I shifted in the uncomfortable chair. “Why can’t you just call yourself a doctor or a first officer or something?”
His mouth fell open at the suggestion. “It doesn’t work like that. You have to be recommended to climb in rank, complete a certain amount of classes for each advancement level, and you can’t climb too high too fast.”
“Classes? Like what?” I was something of an expert at taking useless classes.
“Sci Fi film courses, Trek Trivia. Although, some courses are more practical. I’ve taken several. Taught one, too, on electrical wiring. They have degrees and everything.”
“You’re an electrician?” Always good to know. My landlord was pretty timely about fixing broken stuff, but he bitched so much, it was sometimes more of a pain to call him than not.
Ray bobbed his head. “I do other stuff, too. More an all-around maintenance guy. I diversify.”
“If you fix cars, Ray, I might marry you tonight.”
He grinned. “Nope, sorry. Just my luck.”
I tapped my pen against my lower lip. “So, why aren’t you a higher rank? I mean, ensign’s pretty low on the Star Trek totem pole, right?”
The smile faded. “You’d have to ask Captain Smith about that.” Hmm. There was a story here.
“Captain Smith seems very…intense about all this. He’s the one keeping you from advancing? That hardly seems fair when you’ve got degrees and everything.”
He paused for a moment. “Okay, I’m going to tell you this, but you have to swear to secrecy, by the laws of the Alliance.”
“Of course.” What were the Laws of the Alliance again?
“Captain Smith and I were at a Con four years ago and we both finaled in the Picard tribute video contest. I won. He’s been mad about it ever since and refuses to recommend me for promotion.”
“That must be rough. Why don’t you stage a coup? Overthrow the Captain and take control?”
He looked at me like I’d suddenly turned into one of the Borg collective. “That’s treason.”
We sat in silence for a few.
“Would y
ou like to see my entry for this year’s Con?” he asked.
No. “Love it.” He handed me his phone and I scrolled through the pics.
“I painted a portrait of Spock in his dress uniform,” he said.
The painting wasn’t half bad. For a portrait of Leonard Nemoy. But jeez Louise, Ray Jones was a slob. I quickly tapped his screen and saw pics that included his bedroom. Piles and piles of dirty laundry covered the floor in front of the easel. And he had Trek posters hanging all over the walls. “You’re really talented, Ray.”
“Thanks.”
I handed his phone back. “Did you see anything strange the night the uniform was taken?”
He shook his head. “Not that I can remember.” He pointed to the overhead screen. “It’s my turn. Nice to meet you, Rose.” Then he hurried off.
I glanced around, searching for Roxy. She stood in between two Starfleet guys, her hands feeling up their biceps as she giggled. She glanced back at Brian more than once, but he showed no signs of noticing.
Ma, arms crossed over her I’m Not Irish, But Kiss Me Anyway sweatshirt, bobbed her head at the bald man she sat next to, listening as he talked. Ma was an excellent listener. Hopefully, she was uncovering a clue or two.
As I was contemplating what Ensign Jones had said, Bee Hive slinked her way toward me. “Hello, I’m Lieutenant Junior Grade Katherine Donner.” She sat in front of me and crossed her long legs. Even though the go-go boots stopped mid-calf, she flashed more leg than a Rockette doing the can can.
Roxy started to storm our way, but with a little shake of my head, I held her off. “So, tell me about the laser tag.”
She sat up straight, making the most of her torpedo boobs and checked to see if Brian was watching. He was. “I was hit midway through the game.”
“Where did people go when they got zapped?”
“To the little concession area down the hall or off to the side to watch the action. We brought sub sandwiches and the KAWs brought dessert and chips. We all wandered around, talking to each other.”
“Where were you?”
“In the concession room.”
“Did you ever leave the room?”
Her brown eyes darted around the alley. “I went to the restroom once. And Brian and I slipped behind the theater for a bit of fresh air.” She frowned at me, causing a little crease to appear between her eyes. “You don’t think I took the uniform, do you?”
I was tired of people asking me that question. Of course I suspected them. I suspected everyone. Guilty until proven otherwise.
“Did you meet any of the Trekkers outside?”
“No. Brian and I were too busy with each other. You know what I mean.”
I knew exactly what she meant. And that was bad news for Roxy. She was obsessing about Brian because she didn’t want to dwell on her breakup with Tariq. And Brian was turning out to be a dick.
“What about the rest of the night? Anyone missing?”
“I don’t remember seeing Axton. And Sid was in the bathroom for a long time at The Carp. I remember because he seemed really upset when he went in and much calmer when he came out. Anyway, everyone knows the KAWs took the trophy. They’re the only ones who could have.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but one thing I was certain of, Axton didn’t take that uniform.
“I heard Melissa Sue was engaged to a Fleetie. Can you point him out?”
She glanced toward the lanes. “Chief Petty Officer Sid Rivers.” He’d been the man talking to Ma. Tall, thin, nerdy, round glasses.
“Tell him I want to see him next. By the way, how long have you been crushing on Brian?”
“Since he got into town almost a year ago,” she said, lifting her shoulders. “Why?”
“Into town? From where?”
“Nebraska. He was a Cornhusker KAW and switched chapters.” She patted the top of her wig. “Did he say something about me?”
“Nothing at all,” I said. “In fact, he claimed he didn’t have a girlfriend. When I saw you throwing your goodies at him, I thought you were just another Klingon groupie.”
She stood, placed her hands on her hips, which made the hem of her dress rise to panty-flashing levels. “I was not throwing my goodies, okay? It may not be official, but we’re going out.”
“Sorry. I guess I got my wires crossed.”
She dropped her hands and ran them over her short uniform. “You did.” She straightened her shoulders before sauntering off.
Katherine Donner and Brian deserved each other. I hoped Roxy would come to that conclusion as well.
Melissa Sue’s ex-fiancé, stepped up next. “I’m Sid Rivers.” He didn’t sit, but hovered over me with a scowl on his face. “Let’s get this over with. No, I didn’t take the uniform. Yes, I was engaged to Melissa Sue and yes, it hurts like hell, but that doesn’t mean I’m a thief. Are we clear on that?”
“Clear. So when did you break up?”
He pulled a square of bright purple cloth from his pocket and nervously rubbed it between his fingers. “When she hooked up with Dale. We were supposed to be married next month. A Trekker wedding.”
“Divak Khard? That Dale?” Hmm. There was a twist for you. But curiosity won out over a missing Kirk shirt or a Trekker love triangle. “What’s a Star Trek wedding look like?”
“We were going to dress in our uniforms and serve Trek dishes, like groat cakes—crepes. Gagh. Noodles, not real worms, of course. We even hired a decorator to replicate the bridge of the Enterprise.” He cast his eyes down to the cloth and wadded it in his fist.
“I’m so sorry.” Despite Sid’s protests, he could have taken the uniform to get back at the KAWs. I remembered Ax saying something about Divak Khard and Sid getting into a fight at the end of the battle. I thought it had been about laser tag, but they were fighting because of Melissa Sue.
Lifting his lenses, he rubbed at his eyes.
“We had a love that was as undeniable as the fact that The Wrath of Khan was the best movie featuring the original cast.” He shoved the square of material back in his pocket and stumbled up the stairs toward the bar.
I talked to the rest of the Fleeties, and heard the same song and dance. No one saw anything. The thief must be a KAW.
After a while, Ax climbed the stairs and sat next to me. “Any news?”
“Captain Smith is an asshole, Ensign Jones can’t get promoted, Sid still loves Melissa Sue, and Brian played Roxy.”
He shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against my arm. “I already knew all that.”
“So Melissa Sue canceled her wedding because of Divak/Dale? You might have mentioned it.”
“It happened months ago. Sid found them in bed together.”
I gasped. “Isn’t that cause for termination from the group or something? I thought you guys were all about honor. There’s not much honor in cheating.”
“That’s part of the Klingon way. Divak Khard was the stronger of the two men, strong enough to get the girl.”
“But Ax, you’re not really Klingons. And that had to kill him, seeing his fiancé in bed with someone else. At the very least, his pride took a serious hit.”
He nodded. “I’m not condoning what they did, Rose. This is why everyone suspects Dale. He stole another dude’s girl, why not the uniform?” He bumped his fist gently on my knee. “How’s the other thing going? You making any headway in finding the killer?”
I laid my head against his shoulder. “I don’t know. Probably not.”
Ax patted my hair. “You will. And you’ll find out who stole the uniform, too. It’s what you do, Rosie.”
I wished I felt as confident in my abilities as he did. I opened my mouth to tell him that when a high pitched scream echoed through the room. Ax and I both jumped to our feet at the same time.
&nb
sp; Roxy and Bee Hive faced off near the ball return, yelling at the top of their lungs.
“Then why was he with me last night?” Roxy yelled.
“He’ll be with me tonight, bitch.”
Bee Hive slapped her hands in the middle of Roxy’s chest and shoved her back three steps. Oh hell no. Big mistake.
By the time Ax and I rushed toward the lanes, the Starfleet crew had crowded around the two women, obscuring our view. I pushed my way through the group to find Captain Smith trying to pry them apart. But Roxy had pulled off Bee Hive’s wig and flung it at him. It looked like he was getting face-humped by a hairy, blonde alien.
Then the two girls clung to the other’s arms, each grappling for the upper hand. But Bee Hive’s slick boots were no match for Roxy’s thick-soled lace ups. Standing her ground, Roxy gave a final push and sent Bee Hive sliding over the foul line and down the lane where she waved her arms like a pinwheel before landing flat on her butt. Her real blonde hair lay in a messy tangle down her back, and sitting with her legs wider than a wishbone, Bee Hive screeched her plans for revenge and tried to stand, only to slip and fall all over again. On her stomach this time, causing her skirt to fly up over her ass.
Captain Smith straddled the gutter, carefully making his way toward her. Grabbing her boot, the Captain pulled her to him, causing her dress to ride up to her boobs. When the bare skin of her belly kept her from being dragged further, her boot popped off, and Smith went sliding like penguin on ice into the other lane.
I snatched Roxy and Axton’s arms and yanked them backward. This wasn’t going to end well.
Ma stood on the outer edge of the group. I caught her eye and jerked my head toward the front of the building. She nodded and grabbed her ball, shoving it in her bag.
Ma had thrown on her coat, and the four of us made like the wind and scampered up the steps, leaving the mayhem behind. I cast one last glance over my shoulder. Bee Hive still couldn’t gain any footing. The Captain’s bare belly hung free from his too-tight uniform as he scooted his butt toward the crowd.
Diner Impossible (A Rose Strickland Mystery) Page 17
