Diners, Dives & Dead Ends

I swiveled on my stool and checked out the place. The room was full, and I saw at least four of my parents’ friends. I swiftly turned back toward the bar so I wouldn’t inadvertently make eye contact and have to participate in small talk about my career choice. Or lack of one.

Fifteen minutes later, Dane returned a little flushed and out of breath. “Sorry about that, I ran into a client and everybody wants free advice.”

“No problem.” With my elbow propped up on the bar, my chin in my hand, I watched Dane grab the cutter.

He held up the cigar. “You have to snip the end off like this,” he said demonstrating. “Then you light the edges.” He proceeded to rotate the cigar, charring the edges he’d snipped.

“Seems like a lot of work.”

“It’s worth the effort.” With narrowed eyes he put it in his mouth and gently puffed. I got a little turned on, watching it.

We started chatting and Dane was good at drawing information out of me. I found myself telling him everything, from the decrypted list, which I pulled out of my purse and handed to him, to BJ, to the tanning salon visit, but leaving out the bitch slap I gave Manny. He glanced through the pages, then looked over at me.

“I don’t understand. What does this have to do with Axton? And why the hell didn’t you call the police when those two men broke into your apartment?”

Good questions. “BJ made it sound like going to the police was a really bad idea. And I have no proof he was even there. He may have broken in the first time, but there wasn’t any damage.”

“And you still don’t know what he wants?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s after the hard drive.”

“This guy means business or he wouldn’t keep showing up. You have to go to the police with this, Rose. Please. I know some cops, good men. They’ll be discreet, I promise.”

“I don’t know…”

“Maybe they’ll take Axton’s disappearance more seriously if you report this.”

What if that was true? Time was getting away from me. Axton had been missing for five days and I wasn’t any closer to finding him now than I had been on day one. Besides, he needed to show up for that drug test on Monday or he’d be out of a job. Then how would he pay his mortgage, his car payment, or keep Stoner Joe in chips and ganja? I missed him so much I ached with it. But the police? I wasn’t convinced it was the right move.

“Trust me. Please,” Dane said, taking my hand.

Tears stung the backs of my eyes. I was so tired, so weary, and I missed my friend. I cleared my throat. “I need to use the restroom.”

As I made my way toward the ladies lounge, a door on my right opened and a server stepped into the hall. I peeked in before the door closed. Through the thick gray haze, I made out a group of men gathered around a table, playing cards. I wondered how they could breathe through all that dense smoke.

After making use of the facilities, which turned out to be larger than my apartment and much, much nicer, I checked myself in the mirror, making sure my mascara hadn’t smudged and touched up my lipstick before heading back to the bar.

I sipped my wine and Dane swirled his cognac and smoked. While he was occupied I turned things over in my mind. Where did this whole NorthStar thing fit in? Just because Axton wrote it down didn’t mean it was connected to all this. Axton would no more have been at home in this place than he would have at Honky Tonk Heaven or Chucky’s or a pseudo-antique store.

“You know, I can’t help but wonder if this is a waste of time,” I said. “Axton doesn’t hang out in places like this. He doesn’t even go to bars much, except The Carp. The thing at the tanning salon could just be a coincidence.”

“The man who broke into your apartment, how did he know you’d been looking for Axton? Have you noticed anyone following you?”

“No, and I’ve been checking, believe me. Unless they’re ninjas, no one has been tailing me.”

“Do you think someone from one of the businesses tipped this guy off?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“What about Packard or Axton’s roommate? Could either of them be working for BJ?”

“Stoner Joe? He can’t remember what day it is. Packard?” I thought about Manny’s reaction to hearing Packard’s name. But Pack knew Eric had the hard drive. He would have passed that info on to BJ, so no need to harass me.

“I don’t know what to think. I just know that I have to find Ax. And wherever he is, I hope he’s safe.”

Dane slipped a hand down my back. “You’re a good friend.” He looked into my eyes and leaned in. Our lips almost touched when my purse vibrated.

“Sorry,” I whispered. I dug my phone out and glanced at the ID. It was Roxy.

Chapter 15

Joe Carpino, also known as The Carp, opened his bar when avocado green was all the rage, burnt orange counter tops seemed like a good idea, and fake wood paneling was somehow more attractive than real wood paneling. But he featured live music and had cheap — albeit watered down — booze.

Roxy waited for us outside the bar, where smokers huddled in circles and people drifted in and out of the building. Each time the door opened a wave of music and a roar of chatter spilled out onto the sidewalk, where Roxy paced, chewing a wad of gum as if her life depended on it. She kept smoothing her hands down the black ruffled skirt and her large hair bow was a little cockeyed.

“Jeez, Rose, what took you so long?” She didn’t even glance in Dane’s direction.

“Dane,” I said, “this is Roxy.”

He seemed stunned, but he recovered quickly. “Hello, Roxy, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” she said, smacking her gum. She grabbed me by the shoulders, her mouth tilted down at the corners. “I am so sorry. I mean, I had no idea this would happen.”

“Okay Rox, just calm down and tell me.”

“I came to The Carp tonight because TurkeyJerk was playing.” She glanced at Dane and angled her head toward my ear. “And I didn’t want to drag you along because of you know who. But I wanted to meet Spork, the drummer.”

“Okay…”

“But then I saw you know who,” she said in a low voice, “and he went ballistic. He was all ‘Where’s Rose? I know she was with someone. Some guy answered her phone the other night. Who was he?’ And I was all, ‘What the hell does it matter to you? She dumped your lame ass.’ And then Spork was all ‘Hey man, don’t talk to Spaz that way.’ I’m really sorry.”

I guessed Kevin — let’s face it, I was never going to call him Spaz — was upset because BJ answered my phone. Why the hell had he answered my phone? And what else had he done while he was waiting with Henry in my apartment?

Roxy squeezed my shoulder and I filed BJ away for now. “Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Here’s the bad part. Kevin is all ‘I’m going over to Rose’s right now’ and Spork is all ‘Don’t let that bitch get you worked up’ and I’m all ‘Don’t you call my friend a bitch’ then Kevin is all ‘Yeah, don’t talk about Rose that way’ and then Kevin punched Spork.”

I looked up at the night sky and sighed. This was my life. I couldn’t believe this was my life.

“Is everything all right?” Dane asked.

I turned and looked at him. He was so handsome. And normal. “It’s fine. There’s a guy inside that I broke up with. We barely even dated. But he’s harmless. I think I just need to go talk to him. I’ll be firm, make him understand it’s over.”

“I’ll go with,” Roxy said.

“Rose,” Dane said. “I’ve dealt with men like him. You shouldn’t confront him, you should get a restraining order.”