Last Diner Standing (13 page)

God help me. I strode into the building and let them follow. The teller line was a short one. When I got to the window, Roxy and Janelle flanked me, but kept silent.

A balding man with glasses and a brown tie fluttered his eyes at us. “Um, may I help you?”

“I need to talk to Brenda.”

“There’s no one here by that name. Sorry.”

That had been très anti-climactic.

We trudged back to the car and drove across town to the second location. “You going to forbid us to talk again?” Janelle asked.

“She’s worried we might embarrass her,” Roxy said.

I leaned forward in my seat. “Trust me, I quit being embarrassed by the both of you a long time ago.”

This Huntingford Bank and Trust was located in a small building next to the mall, which was a snarling tangle of Christmas traffic. Which reminded me I needed to do some shopping, but not only was I short on time, I was very low on cash.

We entered the bank and the line was much longer here. I scoped out the tellers and decided to stick with the one who looked closest to Vi’s description of Brenda. A white woman in her forties, well put together with a bob of brown hair, seemed to fit the bill.

Roxy smacked her gum and fiddled with her phone, and Janelle made a grocery list as we waited. 

When we finally got to the front of the line, the woman smiled pleasantly. “May I help you?”

I glanced at her name tag. Brenda. Bingo.

“We need to talk to you about Sheik Johnson.”

The smile faltered. “I’m…I don’t. I’m working right now.”

I glanced at the people in line behind me and then faced Brenda once more. “It’s really important.”

“Like vital,” Roxy said.

Brenda swallowed. “Yes, all right. I get off in forty-five minutes. I’ll meet you at the mall. The west entrance.” Her eyes darted around nervously. “You have to go now. I don’t want to get into trouble.”

Once we left the building, Roxy heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m supposed to get ready for my date with Tariq.”

“And I’ve got kids to feed. Tariq will let them eat chips and cookies and they won’t be hungry for dinner. Damn.”

Instead of driving, since the traffic was insane, we hotfooted it over to the mall.

The place was packed tighter than Santa’s suit after the holidays. Decorations filled store windows, and white cotton snow mounds and plastic signs pointed the way to the North Pole village. The line of kids and parents stopped at the foot of the food court where Roxy practically ran for a smoothie.

“Try this. Mango berry. Full of antioxidants.”

“No thanks, I’ll take your word for it.”

“I need to bring Sherise out here. Let her get a picture with Santa,” Janelle said. “Last year she got kicked out for biting him on the nose.”

“Maybe she’s mellowed,” I said.

Janelle led us to Macy’s where she picked out a long-sleeved polo from the sale rack. “What do you think, Roxy. Will Tariq like the stripes?”

Roxy handed her smoothie to me and took the shirt. “I think he’d look better in red.”

“Red’s not on sale,” Janelle said. “I’m getting blue.”

A harried saleswoman approached us. “No food or drink in the store. Get that out of here.” She pointed at the smoothie.

“That’s my cue,” I said. “You better hurry, Janelle, so we have time to meet Brenda.” I left the store and stood next to the railing, watching the kids take turns on Santa’s lap. That always seemed a little pervy to me, hopping up on some old guy’s lap and asking for gifts.

Janelle and Rox came out a few minutes later and we headed toward the west entrance.

I half-expected Brenda to be a no-show, but she arrived on time and sat down on a bench next to a cell phone cover kiosk. The three of us crowded around her.

“What’s this about Sheik?” she asked.

I sat next to her and tried to put her at ease. “Why don’t you tell us how you met?”

“I was at a bachelorette party. One of the girls at the bank was getting married and we all went to a club one night. Not my usual sort of place.”

I smiled encouragingly. “And Sheik was there?”

She nodded. “He’s so handsome and charming.”

Janelle rolled her eyes. “Right.”

I shot her a look. “So what happened?”

Brenda shrugged. “It was nice, having someone that good looking want me. Say hot, nasty things to me.”

Whoa, Brenda was over-sharing. “I think I understand,” I said.

She closed her pale blue eyes and took a deep breath. “The things that man could do with his tongue.”

“We get it,” Roxy said.

I snuck a glance at Janelle. She’d crossed her arms and pursed her lips.

But Brenda was on a roll. “You forget how much you miss having a man touch every part of your naked body.”

“Brenda,” I said her name sharply.

She opened her eyes. “Yes?”

“How long have the two of you been dating?” I asked.

“We’d see each other a couple of times a week. Things were great. Very…passionate.”

“The two of you fucked like rabbits,” Janelle said. “It was all real magical. Move on.”

“Then he wanted to borrow money,” Brenda said. “One of his kids needed surgery and Sheik lost his job.”

“Oh, hells no,” Janelle all but yelled.

Roxy elbowed her in the arm. “Shhh. Go on.”

Brenda looked startled.

Janelle wasn’t going to be able to keep her yap shut, so I went with the truth. “Janelle was married to Sheik and his kids are just fine.”

“Oh,” Brenda said. “Well, that’s good, I suppose.”

“So Sheik took money from you?” I asked.

“Six thousand and some change.”

“You’re not alone,” Janelle said. “That’s what he does best—he takes money from women.”

Brenda raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say that’s what he does best. He had this one move where he’d twist his—”

“Whoa, please,” I said. “No more sex talk, I beg of you. Back to the money. Sheik recently came into some. Did he mention anything about that?”

“No. I actually haven’t seen him in a few weeks.” She shifted on the bench. “Right after I loaned him the money, he quit calling. I still miss him. I know now he was using me, but in a way, I was using him, too. He awakened a sexual side in me I never knew I had.”

“I don’t know how to say this, Brenda, but Sheik may have given you…,” I winced, trying to find a delicate way to say the words.

“Gonorrhea,” Roxy said.

Brenda nodded. “He did. And I wound up giving it to my husband.”

“Oh, shit,” Roxy said. “You’re married? You don’t wear a ring.”

“Well, my little affair with Sheik put an end to it.” She glanced down at her naked finger.

I touched her sleeve. “Sheik’s in a coma. Someone attacked him. Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt him?”

She paled. “Just my husband.”

After a little prodding, Brenda gave us her husband’s name and place of business. And I added him to my growing list of suspects.

Janelle drove us back to the diner. She had to run home and feed the kids and Roxy had a hot date. I had no plans at all, so I swung by Crystal’s condo, but she wasn’t home.

I should have packed it in for the night, but I was feeling too restless to sit around the apartment, so after I grabbed a sandwich, I called Ax. “Hey, are you busy?”

“Hang on.” I heard video game sounds in the background. “There, I’m paused. Never too busy for you. What’s up?”

“I thought I’d head over to The Bottom Dollar. Want to go with?”

“Duh. Wait, I actually get to see the strippers, right?”

“I’m counting on it.”

I picked him up ten minutes later and he came out of the house with his roommate, Stoner Joe. They clambered into the car, Ax sitting shotgun and Joe in the back.

Tall with long, greasy hair and a purple tuque permanently attached to his head, Joe never met a pot brownie or a bong load he didn’t love. Don’t get me wrong, Ax liked to spark up, too, but he could function. Had a job, friends, a life. Stoner Joe was just a stoner.

“Rosarita,” Joe said, slapping my shoulder. “How’s it hanging?” He made the whole car smell skunky.

I glanced at Ax. “Really? Did you have to babysit tonight or something?”

“Joe wanted to come.”

“Like, literally.” Joe breathed a wheezy laugh from the backseat. “Loves me some strippers, man. Titty power, you know?”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, you guys act like you don’t know me when you go in. Try and talk to the strippers. I want to know who Crystal’s sugar daddy is. Ask them who’s paying her bills, okay?”

“Dude, I’ve got bills.” Joe leaned forward and stuck his head between Ax and me. “Gonna stuff some g-strings, get a lapper.” He slapped the air with his hand. “Whssh. Yeah.”

I sighed.

“Don’t worry, Rose. I promise I’ll talk to every stripper I see,” Ax said.

Why did I think this was a good idea?

When we pulled up to The Bottom Dollar, almost every spot in the lot was full. I’d been here so often over the last few days, I was starting to feel like a frequent flyer.

Instead of walking in the front door, I motioned to Ax that I was going the other way. He nodded and waved.

I stumbled around the building. Sure enough, the smell of smoke tinged the night air and grew stronger the closer I got to the far side of the club.

The side door was propped open with a brick and light from the hallway cut through the dark. Three ladies stood in coats, puffing away, their smoke mixing with their frosty breath as they exhaled. Two blondes, one brunette.

“Hey,” I said, with a friendly smile.

“Who’re you?” one of the blondes asked.

“Wondered if I could ask you a few questions about Crystal Waters?”

The brunette’s eyes narrowed as she inhaled. She held the cigarette aloft as she angled her mouth to blow smoke in the opposite direction. “Jess said you’ve been coming around, asking about Crystal.”

“Yeah, is Jess working tonight?”

“No,” said one blonde. “She’s on a takeout. Should be back by midnight.”

“A takeout?” I asked.

Blonde Number Two, as distinguished by her hot pink eyelids and matching nails, offered me a cigarette, but I declined. “Takeout is an off-site job, like a bachelor party.”

I was learning all sorts of interesting, useless information. “Do you know the name of Crystal’s sugar daddy?”

“No, she just called him Daddy,” Blonde Number One said.

“Did you guys ever see him?”

The brunette shook her head. “Nope. He paid her bills, took her on trips, said she was going to quit dancing pretty soon. Stupid ho.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Guys always say that,” said Number Two. “They’re going to take you away from this life, buy you a house, marry you. It’s all bullshit. Either they’re trying to live some kind of rescue fantasy or they’re trying to get a blow job.”

Number One nodded. “Truth.”

“Crystal never lets anything slip? What about her friends, does she tell them anything?”

Blonde Number One took a drag. “What friends? No one likes her. She’s a stone cold bitch. Stole girls’ regulars, stole their boyfriends, and offered extras, which made us all look like whores.”

“What about any other boyfriends she might have?”

“Other than Sheik?” The brunette took a long drag. “She stole Diane’s boyfriend right out from under her nose.”

“That wasn’t her nose, and they were engaged. Have a kid together and everything,” Number One said. “Crystal dated him off and on for a year. Said bitchy stuff to Diane as often as she could. Just mean shit.”

“Who’s Diane?” I burrowed into my jacket.

“Diane Myer. You got a card or something I can give her? You’ll get an earful about Crystal.”

I dug out my little notebook and scribbled my number and fake name. “Here you go.” I handed it off to Number One. “What can you tell me about Clay?”

The camaraderie we had going abruptly ended. “Nothing,” said the brunette.

“He’s scares the shit out of me,” said Number Two. “And he makes Freddy give us a quota for drinks and dances, then takes forty-five percent.”

“Shut up,” the brunette said.

“What about the little skinny guy?” I asked.

“Stuart Weiner?” asked Number Two.

The brunette stubbed her cigarette out with the toe of her monster heel. I could tell she didn’t like the way the conversation was going, so I directed my words at Number Two. The chatty one. “What’s Clay’s last name?”

“That’s enough,” said Number One. “We’ll give Diane your number.”

Both the blondes stamped out their smokes and all three of them stepped inside the building, kicking the brick away to shut the door and leave me out in the cold.

I wasn’t much further clue-wise now than I had been. All I knew was that Crystal was some piece of work and the ladies were afraid of Clay. And the skinny guy’s name was Stuart Weiner.

I texted Ax that I was ready to go and made my way to the front of the building. When I was done, I tucked the phone in my coat pocket and sniffed as I turned the corner. The frigid air was making my nose run.

I glanced up and saw Clay walk out of the club, his skinny little friend, Stuart, right behind him. Clay looked up, and when he saw me, he said something to his minion and pointed in my direction.

Oh crap.