Diners, Dives & Dead Ends (10 page)

  He wore ratty jeans and a
blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.  He was tall and cute with
dark brown hair that stood up every which way and had ear gauges the size of
quarters.  Exactly my type.  Unfortunately, we had no chemistry.  That fact was
obvious to me, but to Kevin, not so much.

“Hey, Rose.”

Roxy stepped out of the
kitchen with an empty bus tub and leaned against the stainless steel counter beside
me.  “Hey, Roxy.”  Kevin tipped his chin in her direction.

“Rox, I think my stragglers
could use some more coffee,” I said.

“Sure.”  She set down the
tub, grabbed the coffee pot, and walked to the table by the front window.

“What are you doing here, Kevin?”
I asked.

“It’s Spaz now.  I changed
my name to Spaz.  Like, legally and everything.”

“So is your last name still
Wilkins?”  Spaz Wilkins sounded pretty lame to me.

“No, it’s just Spaz.  Like
Bono or Prince.”

I pressed my lips together
to stifle the giggle that wanted to escape.  “Well, good for you.”

“Thanks,” he said with a
smile.  “I tried calling you, but since I hadn’t heard back I thought I’d stop
by, see how you were doing.”

“Yeah, I got your message.” 

He leaned across the
counter.  “The thing is, I miss you.”  He brushed his knuckles over my cheek.

I sighed and leaned away. 
“Kevin, we only went out for a few weeks.”

“Those were the best three
weeks of my life.  Just give me a chance.  Whatever I did wrong, I’ll fix it.”

“I’m sorry…Spaz, but I just
think of you as a friend.”  I hated break-ups.  Especially prolonged ones.

“You introduced me to your
family.  Doesn’t that mean something?”

Actually it didn’t.  I took
him to my second cousin’s wedding.  If I hadn’t been dating Kevin at the time,
I would have taken Axton.  I never knew Kevin—excuse me, Spaz—would read so
much into it. 

I stared at his pierced lip
because I couldn’t look him in the eye.  “I’m really sorry,” I said.

“I’m not giving up that
easily.”  He reached out and took my hand in his.  He kissed the back of it,
stroked it.  “I’m playing at The Carp this week.  Will you come?  Please?”

I snatched my hand out of
his grasp and opened my mouth to decline, but Roxy chimed in.

“She’ll be there.”  She
stepped behind the counter and put the coffee pot back on the burner. 

“You come too, Roxy.”  He stared
into my eyes.  “I’ll see you soon, Rose.”

After he left, I turned on her. 
“Why did you do that?  I don’t want to hear him play.  I broke up with him.”

“He’s sweet.  And he’s crazy
about you.”

“I’m not interested in him
and I don’t want to lead him on.”

“Well, if you go, you could
introduce me to TurkeyJerk’s drummer.”

“Oh, now I see.  It’s not
about poor Kevin at all.  It’s about you.”

“Um, I believe his name is
Spaz, and yeah, it’s always about me.”  With that she flounced back to the
kitchen.

We finally took a break at
one when Ma flipped the closed sign.  Roxie grabbed a doughnut from the cake
stand and tore it in two, giving half to me.

“Boy, I need a cigarette,”
she said.

“You’re doing fine, honey. 
Just keep up the good work.”  Ma reached out and patted her back.

“I’m very proud of you. 
You’ve gone five days this time.”  As I devoured my half of the doughnut, I described
the hellacious dinner with my parents and Packard’s assholiness.  I was soon
covered in glaze flakes.  I wiped my hands on a towel and pulled out the
envelope Dane had left.  “And Dane found out that NorthStar Inc. owns a bunch of
businesses around town.”   

Roxie finished licking the
glaze from her fingers.  “Let’s have a look.”  I handed her the envelope, stood
over her shoulder, and perused the list. 

“Some of these places are in
pretty rough neighborhoods.”  She lifted a shoulder.  “But I’ve been to a
couple.” 

“Wow, I’m shocked.  Anyway,
I’m going to skip my accounting class tonight and hit a few of those places. 
You in?” 

“But you never skip class.”

It was true.  No matter how
boring the subject—hello, Statistics 101—I always went to class.  And even
though I had a test coming up, Axton beat spreadsheets, hands down.    

My phone vibrated.  I
glanced at the number then used the phone next to the kitchen door.

“Hey, Jacks, what’s up?”

“Hey there, favorite sister,
how would you like to babysit tomorrow night?  Our sitter just canceled.”

There’s nothing I’d rather
do than spend time with Scotty.  But I had this Axton situation on my hands and
a list of businesses to check out.  “Sorry, Jacks, I’m busy.”

“I already told him you
would.  He’s going to be just heartbroken if Aunt Rose doesn’t come over.”

  Jacks didn’t play fair.  “What
time?”

“Be here at six and we’ll
probably be home before ten.”

“Fine.”  I glanced over at
Roxy.  She had another doughnut—chocolate with sprinkles this time—halfway to
her mouth.  “I’ll probably bring Roxy.  She seems to be in the middle a carb
crisis right now.”  Plus, I figured we could check out some more NorthStar places
on the way home.

“Is her hair still blue?”
Jacks whispered, as if Roxy had radar hearing.

“Yeah.  And you’re starting
to sound like Mom.”

“That’s a low blow, Rosalyn.”

I grinned as I hung up. 
“Hey Rox, I have to babysit Scotty tomorrow night.  You want to come with?”

“They’ll leave you pizza
money, right?”

“You’re going to gain four
hundred pounds if you keep at it.”

She waved the doughnut at
me.  “It’s either this or smoke.  Pick one,” she said.  And by ‘said,’ I mean
she growled and her head rotated like that girl in the Exorcist movie.

“Do we have anymore
doughnuts in the back, Ma?” Roxie asked.

Behind her back I shook my
head at Ma and made the throat cutting gesture with one hand.

Ma looked at me, then Roxy. 
“Sorry, hon.  I think you ate the last of them.”

“Okay, I’m off to the
grocery store.”

“No, Rox, you’re coming with
me.  I’ll even buy you a meatball sub.”  I had to keep her away from the baked
goods.

She stuck out her lip.  “Fine.
 But I have to go home and get some more gum.”

“We’ll take my car, okay?” 
I used the same placating tone of voice when Scotty got cranky.  “You’re doing
great.”

After we cleaned the diner,
we drove to Roxy’s apartment.  She grabbed a pack of gum off the small dresser
and tore into it.  “I hate this gum,” she mumbled.

“Are you supposed to be
chewing that when you wear a nicotine patch?”

“Are you going to bug me all
day or what?”

Smoking Roxy was a lot nicer
than nicotine patch Roxy.

We stopped by the sub shop
and I picked up three meatball sandwiches.  Eric was going to have to suck it
on the ham because meatball was the special of the day.  I didn’t buy one for myself,
mainly because I wanted to keep a roof over my head and couldn’t afford to do
both. 

We drove to the college and
Roxy kept pushing the buttons on the radio.  “All this music is shit.  And you
should get a better stereo.”

“You’re right.” 

“You’re just humoring me.”

I shifted my eyes from the
road to her and back again, afraid to say much of anything at this point.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so
bitchy.  I just really, really, really, really want a cigarette.”

“I know.” I patted her knee. 

I parked two blocks from
campus.  The day was cool and bright and a breeze teased my hair as we made our
way to Blake Hall.

The guys stood up when we
walked into the IT room.  I introduced Roxy and handed out sandwiches.

Roxy and I each pulled a
rolling chair up to one of the desks and the two men joined us.  Steve sat so
close his leg brushed mine.  I subtly shifted away.

“Thanks, Rose,” he said.  “This
was really nice of you.”

“Sure.  Please tell me you
guys found something on Axton’s computer.”

“Not the computer,” Eric said
around a meatball, “the internal hard drive.  I’ll show you in a minute.”

Roxy pushed her sandwich
toward me.  “I’ve eaten enough today.  Besides, every time I eat, I want a
cigarette.”

“I’ll split it with you.”  I
tore the messy sandwich in half. 

When we were done, Eric
returned to his desk, wadding up his napkin and lobbing it in the trashcan.  Then
he tapped on the keyboard.  “This is what I found.  That hard drive came out of
a laptop.  Does Ax have a second one?”

“No.”  I leaned over his
shoulder.  “This must be what BJ has been looking for.”  I stared at the
computer screen looking at…well, gibberish.  “What is it?”

“It’s encrypted.  I haven’t
broken it yet.”  He raised his brows.  “Who’s BJ?”

“The Bossy Jackass who broke
into Rose’s apartment,” Roxy said.

Eric stared at me for a
second.  “You didn’t tell me he broke in.  You just said some guy was asking
about Axton.”

“BJ wants this back and he’s
willing to hurt Axton to get it,” I said.

He scratched his jaw.  “I’ll
keep working on it.” 

“You should call the police
if this guy shows up again,” Steve said.

“Tell them about NorthStar,”
Roxy said.

“Right.  I got something
that may be nothing.  Axton wrote down the name of this business that owns a
bunch of other businesses.  NorthStar Inc.” I pulled out the pages and unfolded
them. 

Eric stood and he and Steve read
through the list. 

“Sports clubs?  Country
bars?”  Eric looked up at me.  “What does this have to do with Axton or his
disappearance?”

“I’m not sure.  But it’s the
only thing I have to go on at this point.  Why did he write it down?  Why did
it matter to him?  He sure didn’t mention anything about NorthStar Inc. to
me.”  Axton had been hiding quite a lot from me apparently, and if I wasn’t so
worried about him, I’d be pretty pissed. 

“We’re going to go check out
some of those bars tonight,” Roxy said.  “Maybe we’ll figure it out then.”

“Where are these bars?”
asked Steve.

Roxy popped another piece of
gum in her mouth.  “Downtown, mostly.”

“Maybe you could use some
backup.”  Steve adjusted his frames.  “You don’t know what you could be getting
into.”

She raised a brow.  “I know
exactly what I’m getting into.”

“Well, I think it’s a great
idea,” I said with a smile.  If nothing else, it would keep Roxy’s wrath away
from me.  “How about you, Eric?  You in?”

“Sure,” he said rubbing his
eyes.  “What the hell.”

Roxy and I spent the rest of
the afternoon checking out a few of NorthStar businesses.  One store sold comic
books.  I thought Axton would have been there for sure, but when I showed the
pimply-faced kid behind the register a picture of Axton from my phone, he just
shook his head and stared at Roxy’s boobs.  And the antique store—and I use
that term loosely, unless you consider a clock of Elvis and his swinging legs an
antique—was likewise a waste of time. 

We stopped by my place for a
bite to eat, and it was seven when I parked in front of Eric’s two-bedroom
stucco cottage.  By the glow of the porch light, the exterior looked dark
yellow.  Eric opened the screen door for us. 

“Hey, guys.”  He stepped
aside to let us in.

Most of the space in the
tiny living room was taken up by a flat screen TV and two mossy green
loveseats.  The shiny hardwood floors stood out against unadorned white
textured walls.  And not a picture or knickknack in the place.

Steve smiled and stood when
we entered.  “Hi Rose, Roxy.”

“Okay, are we ready to go?”
Eric asked.

“Yep,” I said.  “Why don’t
you guys follow us?”

I’d Googled directions to
the first place on my list, a small seedy bar called Chucky’s.  The
freestanding building sat on the outer road of the highway.  We weren’t quite
downtown, but the clientele was definitely downscale.    

Chucky’s was filled to
capacity with people who took their drinking seriously, hunched around their
glasses as if protecting them from booze bandits.  The scattered tables were
full and the two pool tables were in use.  Nearly everyone looked up when we entered. 
Gazes lingered on Roxy and her Catholic-skirt-slash-goth-boots ensemble before
returning to their treasured drinks.

“Okay,” I said, “what’s
next?  How do we find out if Axton was here?”