Last Diner Standing (18 page)

Chapter 19

“Are you serious?”

“Very.”

He didn’t elaborate and I knew if I asked all the questions swirling around my head, he’d just ignore me, so I said nothing and drove to the police station.

“Pull around back.”

I did as he instructed, but couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “What the hell, Sullivan? Are you going to ask for police protection?”

He hit the unlock button and the back door opened. A young, dark-haired man in a police uniform climbed in, slamming the door behind him.

“Mike Goedecker, Rose Strickland.”

I turned in my seat. “Hey, I know you.” This was the cop I’d talked to the day my car was taken.

He pointed at me and smiled. “Right, the stolen car. How’s that going?”

“I think it’s gone for good.”

“Stolen cars are pretty common around here,” he said. “But I know a guy who can get you a good deal if you’re in the market.”

“Goedecker, cut the bullshit,” Sullivan said. He didn’t turn around in his seat, he simply angled his head toward the back. “What did you find out?”

“You were right. Someone used an accelerant on Penn’s. Your name’s being floated around. Detective in charge wants to question you. Best keep your head down. Also, your guy, Marcus Walker, is a regular at the pawn shops in town. Has a record for unloading stolen merchandise. Anything from jewelry to tennis rackets to clothes.”

“Good, stay on top of it. Also keep an eye on Donnell Johnson. Owns a chop shop off of Oak.”

“Will do.”

Mike was gone as quickly as he entered.

I twisted in my seat and stared at Sullivan. “You have your own informant on the police force? How much does something like that cost? I am so jealous right now.”

He laughed before capturing my face in his hands and kissing me hard on the mouth. It left my lips tingling and my heart pounding.

“What was that for?”

“A consolation prize for not having an informant.”

Consider me consoled.

The next morning, diner business was steady.  By eleven, the lunch line had a waiting time of twenty minutes. Janelle pushed through the standing room only crowd at noon.

“What the hell’s going on, Rose?” she asked, glancing at the mob of people.

“What?” I asked over the loud chatter. I filled two glasses with Coke, one with water and wound my way through the throng to the table in the far corner. Janelle followed.

“What’s with all the people standing around?” she asked, raising her voice.

I set the glasses down and grabbed the order pad from my apron pocket. “Ma’s doing lunch specials. Buy one, get two free.”

“That’s what we want,” said the water man.

I jotted it down and smiled. “Be right back.” I jerked my head at Janelle, so she’d follow me behind the counter. “Three lunch specials,” I yelled at the pass thru window.

I stopped and took a second to fill Janelle in on the process and the prices. Then I let her shadow me for thirty minutes before I felt comfortable enough to leave her alone. “You’ll be fine. Ask Roxy if you have any questions.”

Roxy blew by us in a blur of black and white tartan. She slammed three specials on a tray. “So help me, if I get stiffed on a tip again, I am ripping someone’s head off.”

Janelle elbowed me in the ribs. “Remind me not to piss her off.”

I handed her my pad and pen. “Good luck.”

“I’m not sure I want to do this,” she said. “Those people waiting to eat are getting their dicks in a knot.” She nodded to the front door where two future customers glared at existing customers.

One of the men grabbed Roxy’s sleeve as she passed. “Can’t you hurry these people along? Those two are just sitting there, drinking coffee.” He gestured toward Bob and Bob, two geezers who ate here every morning.

Roxy snapped her gum. “You don’t like it? Get out. Go to Rudy’s and choke on it.”

They seemed shocked by her rudeness, then spun around and squeezed their way through the crowd and out the door.

I patted Janelle’s arm. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just try and hold it together.”

I grabbed my purse and slipped into the kitchen. Ma attempted to haul a big tray of chicken and noodles out of the oven. I grabbed the hot pads from her and took it out myself, setting it on the counter. She must be a hell of a lot stronger than she looked, because that tray was heavy.

“Thanks, toots. My arms are getting sore.”

“Where’s Dillon?”

“He’s not out front bussing tables?”

I didn’t bother to bitch about the new kid. No time. “I left Janelle out there with Roxy. You might check on her once in a while. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She sighed. “All right, but hurry. They customers are getting restless. We’re going to put that Rudy out of business.” She didn’t have any enthusiasm as she said it. She’d pushed the sleeves of her reindeer sweatshirt up past her wrinkly elbows and her normally spiky hair lay limp against her head.

I didn’t know who would crack first, her or Rudy.

I left the diner and hopped into Axton’s car, making it to McDonald’s with five minutes to spare. Sick of chicken, I ordered a burger and fries from the dollar menu and walked to the play area.

Saturday afternoon and it was crammed with screaming kids bouncing in the balls and scrambling through the tunnels. Every table was in use—babies, diaper bags, and half-eaten food covered the tops.

But at one table near the tunnels, a thin woman with large breasts and highlighted hair wore a pink track suit.

“Diane?” I asked.

Without makeup, she was pretty. I’d bet when she put on her g-string and false eyelashes, she raked in the cash. When she stood, her zipped jacket rose to show a taut, tanned stomach. “You’re Jane?”

“Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand and we shook. Her acrylic nails were alternately tipped with red and green glitter. Very ho ho ho.

I placed my sack of food on the table and sat down. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

“The girls said you were looking for dirt on Crystal.” She pointed at the ball area. “Josh loves to bounce around in that thing. He actually takes a nap when we get home.”

I watched a toddler with light brown hair pick up a ball and hurl it at a little girl in diapers. When it hit her in nose, she howled. “Yeah, he seems like a sweetie. What can you tell me about Crystal?” I dug into my sack and grabbed the fries, offering one to Diane. She declined and watched me nibble them, one by one.

“Crystal’s a man-snatching whore. That’s basically all you need to know.”

“Yeah, I got that much, but I was hoping to get a little more. Do you know who she was dating?”

Diane raised one perfectly groomed brow. “Besides my fiancé, you mean?”

I nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Brent Crandall.” She sighed and reached into her Louis Vuitton bag. “Look, I’m not proud of this, okay, but when Brent left me for Crystal, I went a little…” she circled her temple with one finger. “I followed Crystal and took pictures of her. I thought if Brent could see what a slut she was, he’d come back to me.” She pulled an envelope full of photographs from her purse and handed them to me.

I flipped through a stack of about fifty pics. One thing was apparent. Diane was a horrible photographer. Most of them were out of focus and the rest were headless.

I glanced up. “Do you know who all these men are?”

Diane shrugged.  “Yeah, I made it my business to know.  There were three of them.  Some big wig cop, a bodybuilder at the gym, and another dude named Sheik.”

“Hang on.” I shoved a fry in my mouth then dug through my purse for my notebook and pen. I jotted Brent’s name to my long list.

“Now, you said something about a big wig cop?

“Yeah, Martin Mathers.”

Wicka, wicka, what? I leaned toward her. “Martin Mathers? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. He’s like the head police guy.”

He wasn’t
like
the head police guy. He was
the
freaking head police guy. “How sure are you?”

“Really sure. They met at The Huntingford Motor Lodge every Wednesday. Three o’clock every week. He was in and out by four. But they were so stupid, they would stand outside the motel room door and make out.” She reached for the photos and shuffled through them. “Here. It’s kind of blurry. But Crystal’s in her underwear and he’s just standing there, playing grab ass for all the world to see.”

I glanced at a photo. I supposed that blur could be a man and a smaller figure might be a woman. One thing was clear, it was time for Diane to invest in a better camera.

“They even used the same room every time. Number six.”

I glanced at the photo again. So the police chief was Crystal’s sugar daddy. And he was in debt to Sullivan. I wasn’t sure what this meant to Janelle’s case. Maybe nothing. I tried to pull myself together so I could ask a few coherent questions.

“What can you tell me about Martin?” I dropped the sack of fries on the table.

“He’s an older guy, married. Bet his wife wouldn’t want to see those pictures.” 

Fortunately for Mrs. Mathers, there wasn’t much to see. I, however, could use a smoking gun right about now.

Diane turned her head and watched the ball area, then yelled at her kid. “Josh, quit throwing balls at that little girl.”

I peered over my shoulder and watched him completely ignore his mother and continue to pelt the other kids, making some scream and some retaliate.

“Did you follow him anywhere else?”

“Just back to City Hall. That’s how I know who he is. He parked in the spot reserved for the police chief.”

“Tell me about Sheik.”  I probably knew more than she did, but it never hurt to ask.

“He used to come to the club after he and Crystal started seeing each other. And I do mean come. You catch my drift?”

Yeah, I got it. And it was gross. But I already knew Crystal gave extras.

“Crystal dumped my ex, Brent, when she started dating Sheik. Brent was devastated. I tried to tell him that’s what she’s like, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Devastated how?”

She hesitated and I leaned forward. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“At the time, it ate me up with jealousy. Seeing how much he loved her. Brent’s a liquor sales rep, so he comes to the club at least twice a week. It was disgusting, watching them together.” She stared out the window, but I had a feeling she wasn’t looking at the cars in the drive thru lane. “Having to drop Josh off at Brent’s while Crystal was there, smiling, waving, playing with my kid.” She snapped out of it. Glancing at me, she shrugged. “After Crystal broke it off with him, he got all pathetic.”

“What do you mean?”

“He sent her flowers, candy, gave her hundreds of dollars in tips. Parked in her zone every Tuesday morning like clockwork. He went from boyfriend to customer. Three hours he spends getting all worked up while she humps him. But she wouldn’t give him a happy ending, like she does for practically every other guy. And she laughed about it.”

“That must have been really hard for you, seeing the father of your son acting like that with Crystal?”

“Yeah, you could say that. And she used to torture me with it. Made fun of me. Told me he was unsatisfied with my performance, that he loved her and he never loved me.”

“I’m sorry, Diane.”

She nodded and glanced at the kids playing. “Josh, play nice,” she called.

“How long did this go on?” I asked.

“Until about two weeks ago. One Tuesday, he just didn’t come in.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“Maybe he came to his senses. We never talked about it.”

“So who was the bodybuilder Crystal was seeing?”

“Kyle Amsted. He works at Fit and Flex.” She flipped through the photos once again. “Here. Freddy gives all the girls a membership to the gym. Crystal and Kyle were going hot and heavy, always laughing and talking as she worked out.”

I glanced at the photo, couldn’t make out any details, but I dutifully wrote down Kyle’s name. Not quite a suspect, yet, but Brent Crandall certainly might be. Another jealous ex.

“So whatever happened between you and Brent?”

She shrugged. “Even after I showed Brent these pics, he accused me of making it up, just to get him back. She was such a horrible bitch.”

“Was?”

She blinked, her focus shifting from her son to me. “What?”

“You said was. She
was
such a horrible bitch.”

“You know what I mean. She doesn’t work at The Bottom Dollar anymore. Even Freddy got tired of her bullshit.”

“Why exactly was she fired?”

“She made a scene when Sheik came in tossing a ton of money around.” She grinned. “He picked me to go to the VIP room. I worked him up that night until he begged. And Crystal threw a shit fit. It was awesome.”

“And Freddy threw her out,” I said.

“Yeah. Then Freddy pulled Sheik into his office and the party was over.”

I paused, a French fry half way to my mouth. “Freddy Libra asked Sheik to come into his office?”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said.”

“How long was Sheik in there?”

She played with the straw stuck in her large cup. “I don’t know. I got busy with other customers.”

“Was Clay there that night?”

“Um, yeah, I think so. Clay’s there most nights. Stuart likes to get a dance from a different girl every night. And he never tips.”

I felt her pain. “I heard Crystal went into The Bottom Dollar a few days ago and talked to Freddy.” I studied her reaction carefully.

“Probably wanted to get back on the roster. But she’s not there now, is she?” Hmm, no incriminating expression, no blurted confessions. Damn.

A young woman approached the table and addressed Diane. “Excuse me, but you need to discipline your son. He’s throwing balls at the other kids and that’s not acceptable.”

Diane’s face hardened as she stood. “Are you telling me how to raise my kid?” She wagged her sparkly-tipped finger at the woman. “I
know
you didn’t just say I’m a bad mother.”

I shoved the photos into my purse and grabbed my burger. I needed out of there before fists started to fly instead of plastic balls. “Thanks, Diane. I’ll call you.”

I made my way back to the diner. I’d only been gone an hour, but I was scared to see what had happened in my absence. I hoped the place was still standing.