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Authors: Terri L. Austin

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BOOK: Diners, Dives & Dead Ends
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 Was that the truth?  My
head hurt and my eyes felt grainy.  I covered my face with my hands.  I stood
that way for some time, just breathing, blocking out Roxy, blocking out my
empty apartment.  Finally, I dropped my hands and looked at her.  “I’m sorry.”

She glared at me for what
seemed like an hour, then finally said, “It’s okay.”  She pointed at me, and I
backed up a step in case she wanted to poke me again.  “But you’re on my shit
list once this is over.”

“Fair enough.”

Then she scuffed the floor
with the toe of her shoe.  “I thought we were best friends.”

“We are.  I was wrong to
keep it from you.  From now on, full disclosure.  I promise.”

“Okay.”  She knocked her
shoulder against mine.  “You are such a dumbass.  I wouldn’t have told you to
stop looking for Axton.”

“I’m sorry.”  Tears pricked
my eyes.  I thought I was all cried out, but I was wrong.  I slid to the floor and
covered my head with my arms, sobbing.

Roxy sat next to me and
patted my arm.  “Please don’t cry.”  She handed me paper towel.

When the tears slowed down,
I mopped up my face.  The paper towel was rough on my cheeks and even rougher
when I blew my nose.

“Gross,” Roxy said with a
chuckle.  

I laughed a little, too and
then looked down at borrowed catering uniform.  “I guess I’m going to have to
wear this to work, huh?”

“You need to skip work and
replace all your shit.”

“Unless I go to work, I
can’t afford to replace any of my shit.”

Chapter 22

 

 

 

My first stop at the diner
was to pour an enormous cup of boiling hot coffee from the fresh pot.  Roxy had
gone home to change, and walked in a few minutes later.  Two blue braids dangled
on either side of her face and she wore a dress with blue birds embroidered on
the hem.  She looked like a strung out Heidi on crank.

Ma stared at us.  “What in
the world happened to the pair of you?  You look like you’ve been to hell and
back.  And Rose, why are you wearing that outfit from last night?”

Ma’s face lost its color as
I described the apocalypse that was my apartment.  “What is going on?  First
Axton, then your car, and now this?  What did the police say?”

“Not a whole lot.  They took
prints, questioned my neighbors.  They don’t know why I was targeted.”

“It must have been that
Sullivan,” she said.

“I don’t know.  Maybe.  Probably.” 
I rubbed my bleary eyes with both hands.

“Take the morning off,
honey, and go get a new bed.  She pointed a finger, wagging it between Roxy and
me.  “I want both of you to come to dinner tonight.  You girls need a good
meal.”

“Thank you, Ma, but I
can’t.  And I don’t want the day off.”

She pursed her lips.  “I
don’t like this.  Not one little bit.  I don’t want anyone to hurt my girls.” 
She pulled Roxy and me into a hug.

I hugged her back and Roxy
patted Ma’s shoulder.

“Now,” she said, briskly,
releasing us, “Ray will put new locks on your door.  They’re on me.”  When I
opened my mouth to protest, she cut me off.  “Ah, ah, ah, no arguing.”

“Thanks, Ma, but I left a
message with the super this morning.  He’ll take care of it.  The doorjamb was
busted, too, so he needs to fix it.”

“You won’t let me do
anything for you.  You’re too independent for your own good, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

I canceled my study date
with Janelle.  Too much drama, I tapped out on my phone’s tiny keyboard.  Then I
busied myself with customers and coffee, trying not to dwell on the mountain of
problems crashing down on me.  Apparently I didn’t do so hot.  Said customers
weren’t impressed with my disposition and my tips sucked.

Janelle walked in a half
hour before closing.  She’d never been here before and she surveyed the room as
she walked up to the counter and took a seat.  “So this is where the magic
happens, huh?” 

I smiled, happy to see her,
and poured her a cup of coffee.  “This is it.”

“It could use a little
freshening up.”  She glanced at the photo of a younger Ma, Frank, and little
boy Ray hanging next to the cash register.

“Nah.  I think it’s perfect
like this.”

She took a sip of coffee and
appraised me.  “You look like shit on a shingle, girl, and you’re paler than
usual.  What have you been up to?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if
I told you.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Try me. 
Any news on Axton?”

In between taking care of my
last customer and introducing her to Ma, I filled Janelle in on the shit storm
my life had become. 

She nodded at my now
lukewarm cup of Joe.  “You may need something stronger than that after the week
you’ve had.”

“I hear you.”

Ma came up and patted my
butt.  “Take it easy, toots.  Roxy and I will clean up.”

Roxy stuck her tongue out at
me.  I was going to have to make it up to them at some point.  They’d been
shouldering the load for a week now.

Janelle brushed a braid over
her shoulder.  “So, let me get this straight.  You’ve got a missing friend, a
crazy ex, a cute lawyer, a hot guy busting down your door, you beat the shit
out of Ben Franklin, and everything you own, except that trashy car, has been
destroyed?  That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Yep,” I said, “that about
covers it.” 

“Sounds to me like you need
some personal protection and I am not talking about a love glove.  What if this
asshole breaks in again?  Or that guy who was with him?”

“Henry?”

“Yeah, Henry.  What if Henry
comes back?  You need to be able to protect your shit, girl.”

“Are you talking about a
gun?”  I think my voice went up an octave.  “Because I don’t know about that.”

“Hell yes, I’m talking about
a gun.”  She poked me in the arm with a blue-tipped nail.  “You pull a gun on
his ass, he’ll think twice about fucking with you.”

I imagined toting a big honking
six-shooter in my backpack.  “I’d probably wind up shooting myself in the elbow. 
Lose my good texting arm.”

Roxy glanced up from the
table she was wiping.  “I think it’s a good idea.”

I pressed my lips together
and shook my head.  “No way.”

“Fine,” Janelle said.  “How
about a stun gun?  Zap him right in the balls, see how he likes that.”

Now we’re talking.  The
thought of zapping Henry in the balls filled me with delight.  “Where do I get
one of those?”

“My cousin sells them.  
He’ll give you a deal.”

Ma put her hands on her
hips.  “I think we all need some kind of protection.  Get me some of that
pepper spray.”  She walked behind the counter and scrounged around in her
purse, pulling out two twenties.  “And see if they have a rape whistle.  A girl
can’t be too careful.”

I shoved the bills in my
pocket.  “Roxy, you in?”

“Hell yes.”

So I’d eat ramen noodles for
the next two weeks.  Feeling protected would be worth it.  “Where’s his store?”

“He doesn’t have a store so
much as a full trunk.  I’ll have him meet us at school in an hour.  Bring
cash.”

Roxy and I drove out to the
college the second we locked up the diner.  We found Janelle and her cousin
waiting for us in the parking lot.  Tariq wore jeans and a striped polo that
looked four sizes too big.  Dozens of little braids covered his head and large
diamond adorned his right earlobe.  He shook our hands when we met, his gaze
lingering on Roxy. 

“Blue’s a good color on
you,” he said. 

Twisting a braid around her
finger, she smiled.  “Thanks.” 

“Come on, Tariq,” Janelle
said.  “I don’t have all damn day.  I’ve got a class to get to.”  Unlike me,
Janelle was a full time student.

Tariq held up his hands. 
“All right, cuz, calm down.”  He turned back to Roxy and me. “I hear you ladies
are in the market for a little personal protection.”

“First I want a can of
pepper spray and a rape whistle for my boss,” I said.

He opened the trunk of his
silver Ford sedan to a large display of miscellaneous self-defense items.  “I
don’t have a rape whistle,” he said.  He handed me a can of pepper spray, then
reached back into the trunk and came out with a black leather pouch.  He pulled
a shiny four-sided weapon out of it.  “I got a Chinese throwing star, though.” 

“Aren’t those illegal?” I
asked.

Tariq shrugged.

It seemed like something Ma
would like.  “Okay, I’ll take it.”

“Fifty.”

“All I have is twenty.”

“Since you’re a friend of
Janelle’s, I’m willing to work with you.”

For myself, I bought a can
of pepper spray I could hang from my key chain, then Tariq handed me a stun
gun.  “You got to be careful with this.”

I pressed the trigger,
jumping as a current shot between the two points.  “I’ll take it.”  I forked
over forty dollars—mostly in ones from my tip money. 

“Now,” he focused on Roxy,
“what do you need, baby?”  I could tell by the way his eyes swept over her, he
wasn’t just talking about the stuff in his trunk, he was talking about the junk
in hers.

“A cigarette,” she said in a
husky voice. 

Tariq smiled.  “I can get
you one of those.”

Oh boy.  “No,” I said. 
“She’s quitting.”

She blew out a breath.  “All
right, I’ll take some pepper spray.”

“For you, my blue-haired beauty,
ten dollars.”  She handed it to him with a smile.

Janelle rolled her eyes. 
“I’ve got to go.  Rose, I’ll see you at class tomorrow night?”

I sighed.  “Probably not.”

She said she’d take notes
for me and walked off. 

“Thanks a lot, Tariq.”  I
tucked everything in my purse.

He shut the trunk lid, his
eyes never leaving Roxy.  “My pleasure, ladies.”

Roxy grinned as I pulled her
away from Tariq’s car.  With her love of breaking and entering, and his love of
selling possibly—okay totally— stolen goods, this was not a relationship I
wanted to encourage.

I needed to stop by the IT
office while I was here to see if Eric could fix my computer.  We walked toward
Blake Hall and ran in to Steve near the entrance. 

 “Hey, Rose,” he said,
adjusting his messenger bag.  “Roxy.  Any news on Axton?”

“We’re still working on it,”
I said.

He reached out and touched my
shoulder.  “I meant what I said the other day.  Anything I can do to help.”

“I appreciate that.”

He gave me a squeeze and
with a crooked grin walked off. 

As soon as he was out of
earshot, Roxy nudged me.  “Someone has a little crush on my Rose.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

She wrapped her hands around
her throat.  “The kiss of death.”

In the IT office, Eric sat
at his desk, rubbing his head.  He looked up and smiled when I entered.  “Hey,
Rose, you’re becoming quite a regular around here.”

“Actually, today I have a
different favor to ask you.” 

“I don’t know.  This might
cost you another sandwich.”  When I handed him my computer his smile changed to
a look of horror.  “What the hell did you do, hurl it off a building?”

“My apartment was ransacked
last night.  Everything I own was broken, smashed or shredded.”  I ran my
fingers over my ponytail.

Eric jumped out of his seat
and rounded the desk.  “My God, Rose, are you all right?”  Placing his hands on
my arms, gave me a once over. 

“I’m fine.  I was at your
place when it happened.  Really, I’m fine.” 

“You think Sullivan did
this?” Eric asked.

Roxy propped her hip on the
edge of his desk.  “Yes.”

I stepped out of Eric’s
hold, pulled up a chair, and dropped into it, rubbing a hand over my eyes.  I
was tired beyond belief.  “I don’t know for sure.  Probably.”

“Why?” he asked.

I shrugged.  “Another
warning?  Quit looking for Axton, quit asking questions, blah blah blah. 
Anyway, I can’t afford a new laptop.  Is this one fixable?”   

Eric glanced down at the
broken hinge and hit the power button.  “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks.  I get paid next
week, so let me know how much—”

“Rose, stop.  I’m not charging
you.  This will be a test of my skills.  I welcome it.”  He stepped back to the
desk and dismissed me, focusing instead on the laptop.

“Thanks, Eric, I’ll see you
later.”

 

 

I dropped Roxy off at Ma’s
and headed to Walmart, where I bought makeup, toiletries, two pillows, two
bras, two packages of underwear and socks, a phone charger, and the largest
coffee pot on the shelf.  I swung by the grocery store and stocked up on generic
pop tarts and ramen noodles, then I stopped by a mattress store and bought a new
firm futon, which the salesman promised, would be delivered the next day.  My
last pit stop was Goodwill where I scoured the racks for a limited amount of
jeans, t-shirts, and sweats.  With my depleted bank account, I was lucky the
volunteer at the counter took pity on me and tossed in two blankets.

BOOK: Diners, Dives & Dead Ends
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