Last Diner Standing (26 page)

Chapter 27

“What the hell? I know of at least four other people who had a motive. Are the police looking into any of that? And what about her kids? Is Sondra with them?”

“Slow down, Rose. Tariq and Roxy are with the kids. I’ve been to see Janelle. I know there are other suspects. I told my boss I was going full throttle with this case. I know she’s innocent. I’m going to do what I can for her.”

Tears filled my eyes. I’d failed her. I told her I would find who attacked Asshat, but I hadn’t. And in a way, I’d let Crystal down, too.

“She can’t stay in there. What’s bail going to be this time?”

“I don’t know. She barely made bail before and this will be higher since it’s a murder case and she’s already been charged with assault. The judge may deny bail altogether. We’ll have to get a temporary custody hearing so Sondra can officially take the kids.”

I sank down onto the tufted sofa.

“Are you still there? Rose?”

“Call me when you learn anything new.” I hung up and touched the lump on my head and groaned. Janelle was going to spend the rest of her life in prison. And Crystal’s murderer was going to go free.

I sat on the sofa, feeling numb and sick to my stomach, when a blonde whose name I couldn’t remember walked into the room.

“Are you all right?”

I shook my head. “No. Not even close.”

She sat next to me and grabbed my hand. “You’re very pale. Are you having an anxiety attack?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“I have them all the time. Are you taking anything?”

I felt like I was out of my body as I stared at her.

“Do you take anything for them? Valium, Zoloft?”

I shook my head.

“Here.” She opened her Coach bag and pulled out a blister pack. “Hold out your hand.”

I obeyed instead of arguing.

“This is the good stuff,
Clonazepam
. Start with half a pill. Don’t take this on an empty stomach or with booze. It’ll knock you on your bum.” She popped six pills into my palm. “Just take it when you think you’re going to die. You’re not going to die, by the way, it just feels that way.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Do me a favor? Don’t tell anyone I gave those to you. I don’t want the other girls to think I’m a walking pharmacy. My husband’s a shrink and I get requests all the time.” She patted my leg and left.

I stared down at the pills. I shoved them in my front pocket and dialed Sullivan.

“Dane just called. Janelle’s been arrested for Crystal’s murder.”

The usual pause. “I’m sorry.”

“We have to get her out. She has little kids, she’s innocent.”

“You know that’s not my priority.”

“I’m asking you to make it a priority. She’s going to need bail money and even though Dane says he’s taking this seriously, I wonder if she needs a better attorney. One who’s taken on murder cases.”

He said nothing for a minute. Then, “Do you have any idea of what you’re asking? There’s no way you can pay off that kind of debt.”

Right now I didn’t give a good goddamn how I was going to pay off anything. I just needed Janelle to have a fighting chance. 

“I don’t care. That’s what I need.”

“All right. I’m coming to pick you up now. I don’t want you to drive.”

I pulled myself together and made my excuses to my sister—said I had a terrible headache and needed a good night’s sleep. The ladies piled me up with decorative Christmas cookies before I walked out of the house to wait for Sullivan.

He pulled the Mercedes up to the curb and got out, taking the cookies from me and shoving them in the backseat. “Come here.” He pulled me into a brief hug, but said nothing—no words of comfort, no platitudes. I breathed deeply, taking in his intoxicating scent before he pulled away and settled me into the car.

By the time we pulled up to Fit and Flex, I really did have a headache. The kind that makes it hard to concentrate on anything else.

Sullivan followed me as I walked to the counter. Zeke smiled when he saw me. “You’re back.” Then he glanced over the horn on my head. “What happened?”

“Is Kyle around?”

“No, no one’s heard from him for the last two days. It’s not like him. The boss is worried. Said if he didn’t hear from Kyle by tomorrow, he was going to call the police.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Sullivan.

“We’ll need his address,” he said.

Zeke appeared startled at the request. “I can’t do that. That’s private information.”

“Zeke,” I said, “I don’t know if Kyle told you this, but his sister was murdered this week.”

Zeke’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t know he had a sister.”

“Her name was Crystal.” I leaned on the counter. Seriously, I needed a Tylenol or something. I rubbed circles in the space between my eyes.

“Crystal was his sister? He never said.”

“We need his address. He might be in trouble.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be right back.” He jogged to the office.

Sullivan grasped my nape and gently massaged. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” His fingers pressed into the sides of my neck. I closed my eyes and tried to relax my muscles.

“We’ll stop and get some pain relievers.”

“No, I want to keep going.”

Zeke came back with a Post-it note in his hand. “I dug his chart out of the personnel file. Here you go. Let me know if you need anything else.”

I smiled and thanked him. I handed the note off to Sullivan.

Back in the car, he glanced at the yellow sheet. “This isn’t too far from here.”

I nodded.

Sullivan placed his hand on the top of my head. “Let me take you home.”

“No.”

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the window. The cool glass felt good on my temple.

Sullivan drove to a small apartment complex similar to mine—two stories, probably eight units. Kyle lived on the first floor, in the back of the building. We knocked, but no one answered.

“I’m going to break in,” he said.

I rested my hand on his arm. “He might have nosy neighbors.” I needed to have Roxy teach me how to use lock picks ASAP. You never knew when that type of crap might come in handy.

I knocked on the door across the hall and waved Sullivan off. He moved out of sight.

I knocked again and finally, an older man, his bald head covered in liver spots, answered. “What?”

“I’m looking for Kyle.”

“What?” He peered at me through his thick lenses. “Who are you?”

“His cousin, Jane.”

“Who? What happened to your head?” he asked, curling his upper lip.

“My boyfriend beat me up. I need to find Kyle.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Sullivan shake his head. I had to repeat myself three times before the old man heard me.

“Haven’t seen Kyle today.”

“Thanks anyway.”

He leaned toward me, ear first. “What?”

“Thank you.” I enunciated.

After he shut the door in my face, Sullivan returned to my side. “You’re a good liar.”

“Um, thanks? Anyway, bust in. This guy will never hear you and there wasn’t a light on next door. I noticed the windows were dark when we walked into the building.”

He raised his brows at me.

“What?” I asked. “I’m observant.”

“Yes, you are.” He swiftly kicked in the door.

I dug into my purse and pulled out the last of the latex gloves I’d taken from the diner. “I only have three.” I handed him two and slipped one on my ungloved hand.

I flipped on the light switch and Sullivan and I stood in silence, gazing around the room.

“Damn it. I’m always too late for this shit.” The place had been ransacked. “This is the second time this week and it’s pissing me off.”

“Let’s go.” Sullivan flipped off the light and shut the door. Then he removed the gloves and shoved them in his pocket.

We got back in the car. “You said this was the second time this had happened. Who else?”

“Marcus. Someone’s looking pretty damn hard for that money.”

“Wished you’d told me this sooner.”

“Why?” I glanced over at him. A look of intense anger blanketed his features.

“I think whoever’s looking for the money is the person trying to kill me. So Marcus is off my list.”

“I didn’t know he was ever on your list. And he’s still on mine. What if he killed Sheik for the cash? What if he killed Crystal because she wouldn’t tell him where it was?”

“Ro—”

“Marcus is my number one suspect. He was with Crystal the night she talked to Freddy Libra about the money. He pawned her earrings the day after I found her murdered and stuffed in her trunk. He took the tow truck Sunday night and I was shoved off the road.”

Sullivan clamped his lips tight, took a deep breath. “I have other things to do if Marcus isn’t in on this hit. I’m taking you home.”

Once inside my apartment, I tossed my phone on the table next to my pink Christmas tree and plugged it into its charger. I didn’t bother taking off my jacket before I made for the futon and curled up, my head throbbing so hard, my eyes watered.

Sullivan heated up a piece of lasagna that Janelle had brought. God, Janelle. How could I help her?

“Let’s talk this out,” I said.

“No, you need to relax.”

“I can’t relax unless I talk this out.”

Before he could sit down, there was a knock on the door. Sullivan froze, then pulled a gun out of his coat that he’d tossed over the back of chair. I should have figured he had a gun, I just never thought about it. Henry, yes, I couldn’t see him brushing his teeth without a gun strapped to his side.

Sullivan stared out the peephole. “It’s Goedecker.” He slid the gun into the back waistband of his pants before opening the door to Mike, who wasn’t in a uniform, but dressed in civilian clothes—jeans and a leather jacket.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I’ve got some news.” With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, he smiled at me. “How’s the head?”

“It’s been better,” I said, and managed to sit up.

Sullivan opened the door wider to allow Mike to enter the apartment. “What’s the news?”

Mike slammed the door shut with his foot and pulled a gun from his pocket. He thrust it in Sullivan’s face. “You’re a dead man. Hands where I can see them.”

“No!” My heart plummeted and I leaped to my feet.  

“Sit down, Rose.”

Slowly, Sullivan raised his hands.

I sat on the futon. “What’s going on?” I felt like I was in a play. Nothing was real except the throbbing in my head.

“Isn’t it obvious? Mike’s the hit man.” Sullivan’s voice was cool and calm. I took a deep breath and strived for the same. How could he sound so in control when he had an automatic six inches from his brain?

“Who’re you working for? Clay?” I asked.

“Give the girl a prize. She finally figured it out.” Mike didn’t take his eyes off Sullivan as he patted him down with one hand. “Turn around.”

Sullivan slowly turned his back to Mike. “Hands behind your head, fingers laced.” Mike removed the gun from Sullivan’s waistband, then pulled a pair of cuffs from his pocket and tossed them to me. He slowly stepped back, and kept both of us in his view, the gun trained on Sullivan. “Cuff him, Rose. And don’t try anything stupid. If you do, I’ll shoot him, just enough to wound him. I’m not ready for him to die yet.”

Terror crept its way into my chest.  I stood and walked toward Sullivan.  He slowly placed his hands behind his back. With trembling fingers, I cuffed his wrists, then squeezed his hand.  His skin felt dry and cool to the touch.  My palms were a clammy mess.

Mike shoved me aside, grabbed Sullivan by the back of his sweater, and stuck the barrel of the gun against his head. “Here’s the plan, we’re going to get into Sullivan’s Mercedes, and you, Rose, are going to drive where I tell you. If you deviate from the plan or try anything cute, I’ll shoot him. Now get the keys out of his pocket.”

I kept my gaze locked on Sullivan’s as I reached into his front pocket and yanked out the keys. I swallowed the knot that had lodged itself in my throat and raised my chin. We were going to get out of this. Any other outcome was not acceptable.

“Let’s go,” Mike said. “Rose, you first.”

I preceded the men out the door and down the stairs, my head pounding with every step I took. I walked out to the Mercedes.

“Unlock the doors,” Mike said.

I hit the button on the fob. Snow flurries dotted the night sky. The temperature had dropped and the wind was biting. Sullivan didn’t have on a coat, but I was glad I still wore mine.

Mike opened the front passenger door and did the cop move where he covered Sullivan’s head and helped him into the car. “Now your turn,” he said to me.

I slid behind the wheel, adjusted the seat and mirror, and started the engine while Mike climbed into the backseat directly behind Sullivan.

“Drive to the cigar bar,” he said. “And remember, don’t deviate or I’ll shoot your boyfriend.”

I turned up the heat because of Sullivan’s lack of a coat, and because, although I had a bad case of the flop sweats, I was shivering.

Eddies of snow swirled across the road as I drove the speed limit and nibbled on my lip, trying to come up with a game plan. Unfortunately, my head was killing me and I couldn’t think straight. I slid a glance at Sullivan, but he kept his eyes forward.

All too soon we arrived at Penn’s. By the parking lights, I could see the soot-coated brick near the windows and doors, stained from the fire. 

“Pull around back,” Mike said.

I did as he ordered, parking next to the back door and shut off the ignition. Mike thrust his hand toward me.

“Give me the keys.”

With stiff, icy fingers, I handed them over. Think, stupid brain, think. I hoped to God Sullivan had a plan, because I was empty.

“You get out first, Rose, and walk to the door.”

Once again, I followed his directions and stood next to the back door of Penn’s. Crime scene tape X-ed the doorway.

Mike got out of the backseat and held open Sullivan’s door, waved the gun toward the building. “Nice and slow.” He kept his distance from Sullivan, but the gun never wavered. “Tear off the tape, Rose.”

I tugged at the tape affixed to the door, wadded it up, and threw it on the ground. Then with his free hand, Mike pulled a key from his pocket and tossed it to me, gesturing to the padlock on the makeshift plywood door.