Last Diner Standing (19 page)

Chapter 20

When I walked into the kitchen, Ray and Jorge rushed around furiously, getting out food, ladling chicken and noodles. Ray raised his head and spied me by the door.

“Get out there. It’s gone nuts.” Ray using full sentences? He’d passed stressed and was in full panic mode.

I hastily tied on an apron as I stepped through the swinging door into the dining room. There were now twice as many people as before I left. And no Janelle or Ma.

Roxy trotted up to me. “Good, you’re back. Take over your tables, but I get the tips.” She grabbed the coffeepot.

I jumped in and started serving customers. Dillon was actually bussing tables and wiping them down. Better than being stuck in a chicken suit, I supposed. Eventually, I noticed people traipsing in and out of the office.

I pulled Roxy aside. “What’s going on? Who’s back there?”

“Duh, Janelle.” She grabbed four plates from the pass thru and whisked them off to the table near the window.

Ignoring my customers, I stomped down the hallway and barged into the office. Janelle stood against the wall and smiled, her arm thrown around a woman with short hair.

Ma held a phone in her hand and with her chin raised, she snapped a picture. “Oh, that turned out nice.” She handed the phone to the woman.

“Thanks. Good luck on the trial.”

I stepped in front of the metal shelves to let the woman pass. “What the hell is going on in here?”

Ma peered at me through her trifocals. “Glad you’re here, toots. Roxy could use some help.” She leaned her head out the door. “Next,” she yelled down the hall.

A man in his twenties stepped into the room and handed his phone to Ma. “Just push this button.” He stood next to Janelle and smiled.

“Say ‘she’s innocent.’” Ma clicked the camera and looked at the screen. She clicked a button and frowned. “Let’s try that one more time.”

I walked over and yanked the phone from her hand. “What is going on?”

Ma jerked the phone back. “Now the screen thing is off. How do I get back to the camera?”

He took the phone, pushed a few buttons, and handed it back.

“One more time, kids. ‘She’s innocent.’”

They repeated the phrase. Ma checked the screen and nodded with satisfaction. “Looks good.”

He pulled a twenty from his pocket and gave it to Janelle, which she tucked into her ginormous bra. “Hope things turn out for you.”

“Thanks, baby,” Janelle said.

“Have you lost it?” I asked. “You’re taking pictures with customers? You know that’s going to wind up on the internet. Someone’s probably already posted it.”

“Hey, I’m getting twenty bucks a pop. I need to feed my kids and that lawyer you hired ain’t cheap.”

“Plus, we’ve doubled our customers,” Ma said.

“This isn’t going to make you look innocent, Janelle. This is going to make you look callous, like you don’t care that Asshat’s in the hospital.”

She pointed a yellow nail at me. “Listen, I got laid off at the Quickie Mart after my arrest. I need to make some bank.”

“This is not the way to go about it.”

“You’re interfering with free enterprise, toots. Move it along and send the next sucker in.”

I finished my shift and handed the tips off to Roxy, which only further irritated me. Once the crowd cleared out, it was after four. Roxy counted her money while I flipped the closed sign.

“Did you know Janelle was having her picture taken with the customers?”

“Yeah, so?”

I threw my hands up in the air. “Am I the only one who has a problem with this?” My phone vibrated and I pulled it out of my pocket as I walked behind the counter. Dane. Oh, perfect.

“Hello?”

“Her picture’s gone viral. What the hell is she doing?”

I leaned on the counter to relieve the pain in my feet. “I know it’s not the smartest move—”

“Smart? It could tank our whole case.”

I perked up. “You actually have a case? You’ve been investigating other suspects?”

“I just got your list and I’m going through it. But this little stunt sure as hell isn’t going to help her.”

“I don’t control her, Dane. And I’ve another suspect to add to the list. Diane’s boyfriend, Brent Crandall.”

“Keep her out of trouble, would you?” he asked and hung up.

I flipped through my messages and read a text from my sister, Jacks, reminding me that tonight was Scotty’s school Christmas pageant. I wouldn’t miss his performance for anything. As an elf, he was very proud of his curly-toed shoes and pointy ears. Axton was coming, too. He and I were both alumni of the Academy, Huntingford’s most prestigious private elementary school.

“I’m exhausted,” Roxy said, falling into a chair. “Did you find out anything new from that stripper?”

“You won’t believe,” I said.

Janelle sat at the counter and stuck her hand down her shirt, retrieving wads of cash. “Give us the news, girl.” 

I began cleaning the diner and told them about Crystal’s sugar daddy, Martin Mathers, and Brent, her humiliated ex who still wanted her back. “Diane hated Crystal, too. For good reason, but still.”

“Eight hundred-twenty dollars,” Janelle said. She slapped the bills on the counter. “Not bad for an afternoon. Bet those strippers don’t even make that much.”

“I still say this is going to end badly.” The words had barely left my mouth when a short man in his forties with a military haircut strode through the door. Officer Andre Thomas followed close behind.

“Janelle Johnson?” The shorter man held up a silver badge he wore on a chain around his neck. It clashed with his rust-colored tie. “I’m Detective Bradley. I’d like you to come down to the station and answer a few questions.”

Janelle’s eyes widened. She was on the verge of running, I could tell by the way she focused on the front door.

I laid my hand on hers. “It’s all right, I’ll come with you and I’ll call Dane.” I kept my hand on Janelle’s and addressed Officer Hard Ass. “What’s this about?”

The detective did the talking. “We just need to ask Ms. Johnson a few questions.”

Roxy sidled up to the men. “What about? She has a right to know.”

Detective Bradley quickly scanned Roxy and dismissed her. “Ms. Johnson, Crystal Waters was found murdered. We’d like to talk to you about that. Your friend can follow along, if she chooses. But you’re not under arrest at this time.”

Janelle swallowed. She opened her mouth to speak, but I squeezed her fingers hard.

“She’s not going anywhere until she speaks to her attorney.” I finally released her hand and dug my phone out of my pocket. Of course I couldn’t reach Dane, so I left him a message.

Officer Hard Ass watched me closely, with his cold, hazel eyes. Then he took Janelle’s arm. “Please come with us, ma’am.” By this time, it was obvious she was in shock.

“I’ll call Sondra and we’ll be right behind you,” I said. “Don’t say a word without Dane.” I glanced over at Roxy. She clutched the rag tightly as she watched Janelle get escorted from the diner and stuffed into the back of the police cruiser.

“Is that legal? Can they do this? She’s not under arrest,” she said.

“I don’t know. Do you want to go to the station with me?”

Roxy’s face paled and looked ghostly against her bright blue hair. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Give me a sec and I’ll let Ma know what’s going on.” I walked to the kitchen and explained the situation.

Ma gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh my Lord. It was the pictures, wasn’t it? I got her in trouble?”

I patted her arm. “I don’t think so. Can you please keep calling Dane?” I programmed his number into her phone.

The dishwasher was running and Jorge banged pots and pans around, so I slipped into the pantry to call Sondra. She was understandably upset, but promised to take care of the kids until Janelle got home. If she got home.

As Roxy drove, I kept trying to reach Dane until his voicemail was full.  

At the police station, in the little room across from the front desk, Roxy and I walked, too nervous to sit still. I kept texting Dane as I made circuit after circuit around the room.

Finally, after two hours, Janelle walked toward us. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. When we tried to ask her about what had happened, she shook her head and waved us off. “I just want my kids.”

“Roxy, why don’t you drive Janelle to her car and follow her home.” I dug out the wad of cash Janelle had left at the diner and added the extra hundred dollar bill from Sullivan. “I’ll call you later.”

I watched them drive off and texted Axton to come and pick me up. As I waited by the glass front door, I shivered from the cold air that seeped through the edges. Blue and white lights brightly outlined the gazebo across the street, but they didn’t make me feel the holiday spirit. Janelle hadn’t put Asshat in a coma and she sure as hell hadn’t killed Crystal. But if we didn’t find out who did, she was going to go to jail for both.

Deep in my thoughts, I nearly leapt off the ground when a hand touched my shoulder. I twirled around and found Officer Hard Ass giving me the hairy eyeball.

“You didn’t leave with your friend?” he asked.

“You know, with detecting skills like that, I can’t believe you’re still in a uniform.”

He hitched his fingers in his belt and rocked up on his heels. With broad shoulders and chiseled features, he’d be handsome if he weren’t such a joyless human being.

“Some of the dancers who worked with Miss Waters said a woman matching your description has been asking a lot of questions. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Nope.”

His gaze flickered over my face. “If I find out you had any part in this murder, I’ll personally see to it you spend the rest of your life in jail.”

Did that threat scare the crap out of me? Um, yes, but I wasn’t about to let this guy sense my fear. “If you want to find this murderer, maybe you should be looking a little closer to home.” Police chief, Martin Mathers, had just as much of a motive as anyone, the way I figured it. Maybe Crystal threatened to go to his wife. Plus, he was a crooked law man.

He frowned, pulling his lips against his teeth. “What does that mean?”

A honk sounded on the street in front of the station. I glanced out the door and saw Stoner Joe’s small tan truck. I didn’t bother to answer, but strode outside and down the steps.

“Thanks, Ax,” I said after climbing in. “Oh my God.” I held a hand over my nose. The whole cab smelled of skunk weed.

“Yeah, Joe likes to toke up while he drives. Which is why I hide his keys. Are you coming back to my place after the program? Henry made a killer stew and baked a cake for dessert.”

“That just seems wrong somehow, Henry baking. And speaking of Stoner Joe, he looked pretty out of it when I came by the other day.”

“Pot brownies do that to him. He’s in like, a semi-stupor. But he’s blinking again.”

“I’ll go back to the house with you. I need to talk to Sullivan. But first I want to stop by Brent Crandall’s house.”

“Who’s Brent Crandall?” He pulled into the Academy and circled the lot for a parking space. Spots filled up fast. Parents and grands wanted a good seat to watch their little darlings.

“Diane Myer’s ex-fiancé.”

“Who’s Diane Myer?”

We finally parked on the street. Hunched in my jacket and sporting my one glove, I walked next to Axton for three blocks. On the way, I told him about my lunch with Diane, the stripper with the sparkly nails and her burning hatred for Crystal, Janelle’s latest run in with the police, and the Crystal’s sad death. So much had happened in the last two days.

“That’s brutal, man. Poor Crystal.”

“I know. So what about you?” I asked. “How are you getting along with Sullivan and Henry as roommates?”

“Sullivan spends all his time on the phone and Henry cooks. Today he made me a turkey sandwich on homemade bread with this killer avocado sauce. And he’s sent me to the store twice for more supplies.”

Ax and I walked into the crowded auditorium. The public and parochial schools in town had cafeteria-cum-gymnasiums. The Academy boasted a state of the art auditorium with plush seats decorated with brass plaques inscribed with a donor’s name on each. My parents’ names covered twenty-five chairs. It was a status thing.

We snagged two seats in the back at the center of the row. I hated having to squeeze by people, waving my butt in their faces. But it was better than standing. And after working extra hours this week, my feet were sore.

I studied the program the usher had handed me. “Do you remember being in these pageants when we were kids, Ax?”

“Yeah, I was always the Christmas tree,” he said. “I loved that gig.”

I tasked Ax with getting the address for Brent Crandall and he went to work on his phone while I craned my neck to find Jacks and my parents. I had no luck, so I let my mind wander over Asshat and Crystal.

I’d been assuming this whole time Asshat was bashed over the head because of the money. But what about Crystal? She was looking for the money, but did she find it? Was that why she was killed? And by Asshat’s attacker? Pretty coincidental to not be the same assailant.

But there were other reasons for each of them to be attacked. Sheik owed everyone money. And he’d been doling out STDs like the mall elves handed out candy canes. Lots of pissed off exes and their partners. Brent Crandall and Bank Teller Brenda’s husband, for starters.

Crystal had her own enemies as well. Diane hated her. Hell, all the dancers hated her. Plus, she’d made a fool of Brent. He’d gone from boyfriend to customer, from lover to a guy she wouldn’t get off. That had to sting.

She was with Marcus the night she’d been asking Freddy Libra about the money. Presumably the money Sheik had been tossing around. Why was she asking Freddy about it in the first place? And is that why Clay and Stuart were searching Marcus’ house?

“Hey, did you get any info on Clay and Stuart?” I asked.

“Nope, too busy at work today. Servers down again,” Ax said, not looking up.  Then he nudged my arm. “Got Brent Crandall’s address. After we talk to him I’ve got to get some of that cake. Henry called it Better Than Sex cake. We’ll see, my friend.”

I was still chuckling as the lights lowered and the school administrator stepped onto the stage. Mr. Frunk had been here since the beginning of time. And yes, his name was the constant source of juvenile amusement.

He gave his welcoming spiel to the crowd and then the curtains swished open. The elves carried brightly wrapped presents and twirled around the Christmas tree. Scotty leaped and danced his little heart out. I could see the gap where his two upper teeth should be. My God, he was the cutest thing ever.

Sometimes I wondered if I’d made the right choice, dropping out of real college and dating guys in garage bands. I could be Mrs. Upstanding Huntingford by now, with a starter condo near the country club. Maybe get a puppy, and in a couple of years, have a Scotty of my own.

The Scotty part sounded pretty sweet, but the rest of it was snooze worthy. I didn’t want a condo or a country club membership or a socially acceptable husband. But what did I want? I couldn’t see myself as a career woman, phone glued to my ear, or a stay-at-home, organizing play dates. So where did I fit in?

I needed to get my act together, that was undeniable. But how? Doing what?

I couldn’t come up with any answers, so I sat back and enjoyed the program. Santa and the elves delivered presents to all the good boys and girls across the globe, as represented by kids dressed in stereotypical and racially questionable costumes. And then some little kid came out and spouted off about the season of giving.

When the lights came up, I noticed Axton wiping his eyes. “Were you crying?” I whispered.

He sniffed. “No. I have serious allergies.”

“Since when?”

“Back off, Rose. That crap about the season of giving was touching. You’re a scrooge, dude.”

I rolled my eyes as we made our way to the cafeteria. Cookies and punch time. I could use the sugar. I hadn’t had anything to eat since that burger from McDonald’s.

As Ax and I stood along one wall, I called Janelle. Tariq answered the phone.

“Hey man, she’s out. We gave her a shot of whiskey and she’s been snoring ever since. Roxy’s still here, though.”

“How are the kids?” I asked. “They need anything?”

“Nah, man, we’re cool.”

As I tucked the phone back in my pocket, I spied my family near the cookies. “I’m going to congratulate Scotty.”

“I’m going to find the Christmas tree kid. He did a pretty good job. But maybe I can give him pointers for next year.”

“Meet you back here in fifteen.” I strode past parents who looked like they’d come from work—suits and dresses with the occasional mom in a bulky Christmas sweater. I, on the other hand, was still dressed in the same wrinkled t-shirt and jeans that I’d been wearing all day.

I stopped in front of my family. “Great program.”

My mother eyeballed me from head to toe. “Rosalyn, why can’t you ever make an effort?”