Minutes lapsed as we contemplated the list. With a sigh, I finally stood. “Eric, would you make a copy of this for me?”
“Sure.” He punched a couple of keys and the printer next to him spit out a copy of the list.
I folded the paper and tucked it in my purse. “Thanks. And thanks for breaking the code.”
“Anytime, kid.”
“Oh, there’s one other thing.” I told them both about BJ’s latest nocturnal visit. “And I’m about to meet with Sheila Graystone. Hopefully she’ll have information that will help.”
Steve had been pretty quiet until now. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s dangerous if it’s getting the attention of this BJ character.”
Eric nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You have to let the police handle this.”
“I can’t. The police think Ax is just some stoner who’s run off and I don’t have any real evidence — about anything. I need to find Ax and I can’t count on anybody else to do it for me.”
Eric scrubbed at the stubble on his cheeks and sighed. “I’m worried about him, too. And I’ve been covering for him with the administration, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up. Since he got busted last year, he’s skating on thin ice.”
“I’m going to find him.” I wondered if my expression was a fierce as my voice.
Eric nodded. “All right, kid, but let me help.”
“You just told me how dangerous it was to keep looking.”
“Yeah, well, I kind of miss him. But if you repeat that, I’ll deny it.”
I smiled. “I need to find out everything I can about NorthStar Inc. Not just a list of the businesses, but the owner. And how BJ fits in to all this.”
“Okay, I’ll get to work,” Eric said.
Steve stood. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”
He ignored me and placed his hand on my arm. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”
We walked up the stairs and out of the building. The day was warm, the afternoon sun blazing low in the sky.
With his hand still on my arm, he turned to me. “I’ll do anything I can to help you find Ax. But please, don’t let this guy into your apartment again.” His eyes, the color of dark chocolate, were filled with concern.
“You’re really sweet, Steve. And I don’t plan on letting him in again.”
“Good. Look I know you’re worried about Axton, but you have to eat. There’s this Thai place off the Boulevard—”
“Maybe once I get Axton back?” I had too many men to deal with right now. I waved over my shoulder and jogged to my car.
When I walked into Starbucks, the sharp smell of coffee hit me. I loved that smell — comforting and mouthwatering at the same time. Sheila sat at a two-person table in the corner and waved when she saw me.
“Aren’t you going to get some coffee?” she asked.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford the Frappuccino I so richly deserved. I pulled out a chair and sat across from her. “No, I’m good.”
“Thanks for meeting me.”
“Has Packard heard from Axton again?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” I blinked at her. “If you don’t have information on Ax, why did you call?”
She looked down at the table. “This is hard,” she said, more to herself than to me. She glanced back up. “Pack has been acting strange since Axton’s disappearance.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, really. He’s been on edge, secretive.”
“Secretive?”
She gestured with one hand. “He’ll get phone calls and walk out of the room to take them. Even in the middle of dinner. He won’t talk in front of me. I know my husband and something is wrong.”
The thought crossed my mind that maybe Packard was having an affair. Call me Captain Obvious.
“Have you checked his phone history?”
“I don’t feel right doing that.”
“And you’re sure it’s about Axton? It’s not work or…” I left the words hanging in the air.
She got what I was implying and sat up straighter, a haughty look on her face. “My husband is a good man. An honest man. He would never do anything to hurt me.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“I just think Packard’s weird behavior has something to do with Axton, that’s all.”
“Did the police ever talk to Pack?” According to Dane they had, but I wanted to hear it from Sheila.
“An officer called him and asked a few questions. That was about it.”
I sighed and looked out the window. “So, you think these phone calls have something to do with Ax?” I turned back to face her.
“I think so.”
“Why don’t you look at Packard’s phone and get me a list of the incoming numbers?”
She nibbled her lip and ran her thumb over the rim of her cup lid. “I don’t know.”
If she didn’t want to help me, why did she call this little meeting? “Look, Sheila, Axton is missing. The police don’t care and your husband has been acting strange. You said yourself he’s been on edge since Axton’s disappearance.” I looked directly into her brown eyes. “Please?”
She was silent for a few minutes. “My husband is ambitious. He wants to run for mayor. He sees it as a stepping stone for bigger things.” She clutched her coffee cup. “He’s probably just under a lot of stress at work.”
I reached out and touched her wrist. “I don’t care about your husband. I don’t want to hurt him, I really don’t. I don’t care what Packard’s done, as long as it doesn’t involve Axton. Every time I’ve needed him, he’s been there for me. He may be flaky in some areas, but as a friend, he’s as steady as they come. I need to find him.”
Finally, she looked up at me. “Okay. I’ll check his phone tonight.”
I pushed my chair back to leave.
“Rose, if he has been talking to another woman?”
I waited.
“I want to know.”
I mulled over our conversation on the way to my apartment. I hoped the phone numbers would yield some results, but I wasn’t holding my breath. Ax and Pack weren’t close. I wasn’t even sure why Ax called his brother the night he disappeared. It was odd.
As my mind wandered, I drove past a strip mall that housed a tanning salon. Something about it niggled at the corner of my mind. I had seen the name of that tanning salon before.
Making a U-turn, I drove back and parked in front of a row of small shops. I dug in my purse for the list of businesses owned by NorthStar Inc., then looked up at the Sun Kissed Tanning Salon with a big ass grin on my face. Shoving the list in my purse, I got out of the car and walked inside.
A girl in her early twenties stood at the counter, rows of tanning products lined the glass shelves behind her. She smiled when I walked in. “Hi,” she said, “how are you today?” Her skin — the color of a radioactive carrot — clashed with her purple tie-dyed bikini.
“I’m great, thanks, and you?”
“I’m great, too.” She flipped her bleached hair over her shoulder and continuously petted it with two hot pink-tipped hands. “You look like you’re in the right place.”
I raised my brows. “I do?”
“Definitely. You’re really pale.”
For some reason I thought she was going to blurt out everything about NorthStar Inc. and how it was connected to Axton. All my questions would be answered. Instead she just wanted to orange me.
