Last Diner Standing (17 page)

“Where did you hear this?” he asked.

“Dane stopped by the diner to let me know.”

“I’m sure he did.” He glanced over at me. “I’ll bet he couldn’t wait to tell you. He still wants you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not discussing this with you.”

“Do you know LD’s address?”

I raised my brows and nodded.

“Then let’s go talk to him.”

“Are you insane?” I asked.

He gave a tired chuckle. “Maybe. Why?” The stress lines near his gold eyes fanned out like rays.

“You can’t go wandering around. You have a hit out on you. You’ve suspended all your business, someone is double crossing you, and now the police want you, too. You have to stay here. Besides, I don’t want you leading anyone back to Axton.”

He shook his head. “I need to find out who betrayed me. Asshat had the money and LD’s his brother. It’s worth following up. And I’ll be careful with Axton. You have my word.”

I stopped glaring at him and stared at the dizzying green and white wallpaper. “Okay.” I understood his position. If someone was gunning for me, I wouldn’t want to hide in a rumpus room straight out of
The Brady Bunch
. I’d want to find the bad guy and put an end to it.

Standing, I held out my hand. He grabbed onto it and pulled himself up. There was a little spark where we touched.

He looked into my eyes a moment and jerked me into him, until my breasts brushed his chest. “If you hadn’t killed him, I would have. And I’d have made him suffer.”

Chapter 18

The temperature had dropped down to the thirties. My nose, ungloved fingers, and toes were freezing, despite the fact I’d maxed up the heater. I pulled the car into LD’s apartment parking lot and was about to shut off the ignition when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. “Look.” I pointed to the front row of cars next to the building. Through the yellow glow of the parking lights, we watched Marcus walk inside. “Now we can question them at the same time.”

Sullivan grabbed my arm. “Hang on. Let’s wait a few minutes.”

“Why?”

“I’d like to see if they go somewhere. And what are you going to ask them anyway, ‘Which one of you killed Crystal?’ Just give it a few minutes.”

“What if they sit up in that apartment and watch TV all night?”

“Then we go up in an hour.”

I shoved the key back in the ignition and let the car idle. “One hour.”

“You need to learn the art of patience.” He settled into the seat and leaned his head back. With his hands resting on his thighs, his long legs stretched out as far as the tight space would allow, he seemed perfectly at ease.

“Have you started emulating Michael Jackson?” he asked.

“What?”

He pointed at my hand. “The one glove. Trying to bring that back?”

“Funny.  I lost it.”

He resumed his watch on the building and I spent my time updating my list of possible suspects.

Little Donnell, Asshat’s brother.

Marcus Walker, Asshat’s friend. Together with LD, they were mixed up in some kind of stolen car parts ring.

Brenda, the bank teller. Asshat gigolo’d her, stole her money, and gave her gonorrhea.

Brenda’s husband. Ended the marriage, maybe it wasn’t  enough (considering he also received the gift of gonorrhea), beat Asshat in a jealous rage?

Vi, the hairdresser. Also gave her gonorrhea, stole her credit card and left her with a hefty debt.

Diane, the stripper with the kid. Crystal stole her boyfriend, but how did Asshat and the money figure in?

Clay Davidson and Stuart Weiner, strip club owner and his sidekick. Not sure how they connected, either, but Asshat was flashing cash at their club right before his attack. Maybe Asshat stole Clay’s money?

I re-read my short list, then carefully drew a line through the name at the very top of the list: Crystal, aka Chicken Licker, and sent the whole thing over to Dane.

Still no sign of LD or Marcus, so I played an online word game with Roxy in which I kicked her ass. Henry had made her a grilled cheese sandwich, and she had gotten a ride home from Ax.

After finding Crystal’s body, I still didn’t have an appetite. And all this sitting around left me too much time to think.

At close to an hour, I was ready to march up to LD’s apartment and demand some answers. But just when I thought I couldn’t sit there another minute, LD and Marcus emerged from the building and climbed into a dark Explorer with LD behind the steering wheel. “There they are.”

Sullivan didn’t say ‘I told you so’ but I could feel it.

I kept my headlights off until we hit the street and I tailed them down the Boulevard, trying to keep two cars between us at all times. It was harder than it looked, keeping an eye on LD’s truck and the bustling holiday traffic.

I turned down the heat and shifted in my seat.

“You’re doing well,” Sullivan said. “Just stay with them, don’t let them get too far ahead.”

LD drove to the muffler shop, which was closed up for the night. Following them into the small lot was impossible if I wanted to remain undetected, so I pulled into a bar two doors down and parked facing them, then cut my lights.

“What do you think they’re doing? They haven’t gone inside.”

“Look.” Sullivan pointed and I saw a figure get out of the SUV and head around the side of the building. A minute later, the tow truck pulled out of the lot. The Explorer and tow truck took off in separate directions.

  “Who do we follow?” I asked.

  “We know where LD lives,” he said. “Follow the tow truck.”

  “Try to keep an eye on him.” I couldn’t watch for the tow truck and merge into traffic at the same time. After waiting forever, I saw an opening and gunned it, pulling out on the street, and narrowly missed getting reamed by a minivan. But no sooner did I drive a few feet, that I got stuck at a red light. Damn.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch up.” Sullivan ran his hand down the length of my ponytail and tugged. I glanced over at him and he smiled. Boy, he looked good when he did that.

The light turned green and I sped through the intersection, wove around slower moving cars, and finally caught sight of the tow truck. At least I hoped it was the same one. I eased up on the gas and kept him in my line of vision, but once again put a few cars between us.

“I don’t see LD’s truck so I assume this is Marcus driving,” I said.

“That’s my guess. And if this doesn’t lead to anything, we can always go back to LD’s apartment and you ask him anything you want.”

That made me feel marginally better. I liked having a backup plan.

The tow truck led us to the mall, which was even more crowded than it had been yesterday afternoon. Multicolored lights outlined the perimeter of the building and the light poles. I stayed two aisles over as Sullivan navigated the truck’s position.

“He’s turning left,” he said.

I turned left and rolled through the lot, watching for hustling pedestrians and cars backing out of their spots.

“He’s stopped.”

So I did, too, and put the car into park.

Sullivan tapped the window. “Right there.”

I unbuckled my belt and leaned toward him. My breast brushed against his arm and our cheeks almost touched. Being this close to him, I had to force myself to focus.

The tow truck backed up to a midsized sedan. Marcus hopped out and quickly hooked the car to the truck, jumped back in the cab, and sped off.

I glanced up at Sullivan. “What the hell just happened?”

“Marcus stole a car.”

“Are we sure?” Even in the dark, I could feel his eyes on me.

“Only one way to find out. Let’s head to LD’s garage.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“No,” Sullivan said.

I settled back into the driver’s seat and re-buckled. “The same thing happened to my car. How is that owner going to feel, coming out of the mall only to find their car missing? And, of course, the police won’t give a shit.”

“Neither do I. We have more pressing matters.”

I really hated it when he was right.

I slowly made my way out of the mall traffic and hit the highway, taking the exit for LD’s garage.

I parked across the street. Five minutes later, the tow truck backed up to the garage and honked the horn. The bay door slid up and I saw LD outlined against the bright light.

Marcus slowly backed the car into the garage and LD released it from the truck.  Marcus drove to the front of the building before walking into the garage.  When LD slammed down the bay door, the street was dark once again.

“Janelle was right, Marcus is shady. So what now? We leave?”

“Let’s wait a while longer. See what happens, where they go.”

I crossed my arms and hunkered down. Even with the car running, it was still cold. “That’s what Officer Hard Ass thinks happened to my car. Older cars get chopped for parts. It’s so sleazy.”

“There are better ways to make a living.”

“You don’t get to judge here. Your hands aren’t exactly clean in the criminal department.”

He slid his arm along the top of my seat, his fingers idly stroked my hair. “I don’t force anyone to play. People want to gamble, I provide a service.”

“It’s that easy, huh? You don’t take into consideration their families or the fact they could lose everything? That it might ruin them?”

“If they don’t care about their families or their reputations, why should I?”

How could I argue with that? “Why did you go the criminal route anyway?” He was a smart, talented guy. Why not have a legit business instead of all the illegal crap?

He leaned toward me, his lips almost touching my ear. “Are you hoping to reform me?” His deep voice caused goose bumps to rise across the surface of my chilled skin.

Honestly, the thought never occurred to me. I knew I didn’t have that kind of power over anyone, especially him. I turned my head and our lips were inches apart. “If I was going to reform anyone, I’d start with myself. And maybe get Ax off the doobs.”

“What would you change about yourself?”

I studied his shadowed face, but in the dim glow of the streetlight, I couldn’t read his mood. My breathing became shallow with him so close, our lips within kissing distance. I itched to touch him and gave into the temptation by rubbing the back of my fingers over his stubble-covered chin. “My indecisive career goals. I can’t figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life and I’m not getting any younger.”

He laughed and leaned his forehead against mine. “Yes, you’re ancient.”

I moved my fingers from his chin, across the hollow plane of his cheek, and plunged them into his silky hair. “It’s not funny.” Touching him could get addictive.

“Come work for me.” His thumb danced along my jawline.

I pulled back a bit. “Doing what, running illegal card games? I don’t think so.”

“I could always use an assistant. Or you could manage one of my properties. I have some legal angles.”

I let go of his hair and put my hand back in my lap. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Your call.” He gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead before returning to his side of the car. “What do you want out of life?”

That was the million dollar question. “I’m not sure. I only seem to know what I don’t want.”

“That’s a start,” he said. “And you’ll figure it out.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re Rose Strickland, that’s why.”

Well, he had me there. Feeling restless and full of pent up energy, I shifted in my seat and watched the garage. Two minutes later, an SUV pulled up to the building.

“Someone’s here.” I shut off the ignition and sat up straight.

The garage door lifted and I got a good view of the chopped car. It was now a metal shell of its former self. The tires were gone, the doors were missing, even the hood had been taken off. “I didn’t realize they could break it down so fast.”

“Doesn’t take long to get the parts they need.”

Stuart Weiner emerged from the SUV. I’d know that slick-haired weasel anywhere. He approached LD and Marcus.

LD wiped his hands on a rag, pulled a white envelope out of his back pocket, and handed it to Stuart.

Stuart opened the envelope, appeared to check the contents, then climbed back into the SUV and sped away.

“A pay off?”

LD walked back into the garage and came out with two beers, handing one off to Marcus. The men drank and lit up cigarettes while Sullivan and I watched.

Fifteen minutes later, they’d finished the beer, but stood outside the garage talking when a flatbed truck approached. It backed up to the auto bay where LD and Marcus winched the car remains, hoisted some chains, and it drove off into the night. Then LD hopped into his Explorer, Marcus climbed into the tow truck, and they left as well.

“So LD’s paying off Clay?” I asked. “Do you think Clay is the real owner of the garage, like he is with the strip club?”

“Seems like a safe bet.” Sullivan pulled out his phone and said a few terse words.

I put the car in gear and headed for the highway.

“Before we go back to Axton’s, I need to make a stop.”

I glanced away from the road. “Where?”

“The police station.”