Last Diner Standing, page 12
He frowned at me. “What’s she doing here?”
“See anything?”
“No.” Henry turned his gaze back to the monitors.
Sullivan shoved me back into the hallway. He strode further along the darkened corridor to a room on the right.
He flipped a switch and light flooded the cavernous space. It was my apartment times three, and all it contained was a metal desk, a laptop, and a sofa angled in one corner.
Sullivan moved behind the desk, typed on the keyboard, ignoring me. Did he plan on keeping me prisoner here? Well that wasn’t going to happen. I had things to do, people to question, lunch to serve.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked.
He still ignored me.
I hoisted my purse higher on my shoulder and walked out of the room. This was a crappy neighborhood, but Ax would come and get me. No worries.
I pulled out my phone and began a text, when Sullivan snuck up behind me and plucked the phone from my fingers.
I pivoted and glared at him. “Give it back.” I glanced from his face to his clothes. He wore a smooth black sweater and dark jeans.
“No.” He shoved the phone in his front pocket.
“You can give it back or I can take it back.”
If he thought I wouldn’t fish my hand in there and retrieve it, he was in for a big surprise.
I probably was, too.
“Now that might be interesting.” He was still pissed, but there was a little twinkle in his eye. He was laughing at me. I hated it when he did that.
“I need to get out of here. Now, I can walk, but this is a very bad neighborhood and I know you don’t want me to do that. I can call Ax to come and pick me up, but then he’d know the whereabouts of your secret bat cave. Or you could drive me home.”
He crossed his arms. “Option four: I keep you here and out of my way.”
I wasn’t that wild about option four, but I wouldn’t put it past him. I thrust my hands in my coat pockets and stared at him.
He stared back.
Oh good Lord, this could have gone on all night, so to expedite things, I gave in first. “Sullivan, cut the bullshit and tell me what’s going on. Why were you at the strip club tonight? Were you following me? And why is Henry all black ops in that room instead of hauling your ass around town, like he always does? Who’s been following you and taking notes? Where did the money come from? And where are all your other henchmen?”
“Henchmen?”
“Yes, henchmen. Where are they?”
He shifted his stance, his eyes hardened. “I cut everyone loose except for Henry.”
“Why?” My brain began churning. Why would Sullivan get rid of his muscle? Someone was watching his every move. Someone who worked for him? “Did they turn on you? Is the hit an inside job? How do you know you can trust Henry? I never liked him.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.” He sighed. “Come back in the office and we’ll talk.” Without waiting to see if I followed, he walked away.
Of course I trailed him. He still had my phone after all. I parked on the nubby green sofa and crossed my legs. “So, talk.”
He sat down next to me, hunched forward, his hands dangling between his knees. “I wasn’t following you. I came to the club for other reasons and saw you flying through the parking lot being chased by Stuart.”
“Stuart Weiner?”
He raised a brow at me. “You’ve been very busy.”
“Yes, and I’m not going to stop until the prosecutor drops the charges on Janelle.” And until Sullivan was safe. But I didn’t want to cop to that one. At least not out loud.
I studied his tension-filled face and bloodshot eyes. “When was the last time you slept?”
He laughed. “Don’t remember.”
“Tell me about Clay,” I said.
He lounged back against the sofa as he rubbed his eyes. “Not much to tell.”
“Why is he always at the strip club?”
I was cold now. I buttoned my too thin coat and pulled on my one glove, shoving my bare hand under my arm.
“He owns it. And he likes to keep a finger in every pie.”
“I thought Freddy Libra owned it,” I said.
“Freddy’s a shill.”
“The strippers are afraid of Clay. They won’t talk about him.”
He raised a brow at me. “That’s because Clay Davidson is a ruthless motherfucker.”
“You’re not exactly a Sunday school teacher.” I glanced over at him. Up close and personal, I could see the whiskers on his face. I fought against reaching out and rubbing my ungloved palm against the roughness.
“He’d pimp his mother on a street corner if he thought she could make money.”
That was pretty ruthless. And now Clay had seen me twice. Sent Stuart after me. That was a little frightening. “Maybe we should work together,” I said. “Pool our resources? Share information?”
“We have separate agendas. And what resources do you have?” He shook his head. “Besides, you’re a distraction I don’t need.”
I wasn’t sure if I felt flattered or insulted. “You know Asshat’s involved in all this. He had pictures of you, your itinerary. And what about Crystal? She’s been looking for the money, too. Maybe she knows who’s behind the hit?”
He stood. “I don’t think so.”
“Fine. I’ll continue on my own.” Dismissing him, I reached into my purse and pulled out my little notebook. I scribbled in the new info about Clay Davidson and Stuart Weiner.
Sullivan peered over the book. “Is that your crib sheet?”
“I have a hard time keeping track of all the players otherwise.” I snapped it shut and stuck it back in my purse.
He looked amused. “Tell me who the players are in your little drama.”
Now that just pissed me off. “It’s not a little drama, jackass, it’s Janelle’s life.” I hopped up from the sofa and planted myself in front of him. “If I don’t find out who bashed Asshat, she’s going to jail for years. I think Asshat was attacked because of the money. The money that leads back to you and the surveillance stuff I found at his house.”
He sighed. “All right then, tell me everything new.”
I went over Muffler Shop Marcus, Vi, the hairdresser from hell, and Bank Teller Brenda. “Brenda’s husband is a possibility of course, but this doesn’t feel like a jealous husband thing to me. The missing money keeps rearing its head. I think whoever hit Asshat was after it.”
He stared through me. “And you say this Marcus is missing, too?”
“Well, he didn’t turn up for work yesterday.”
“Maybe he and Crystal took the money and are in it together. You said he gave her a ride from the strip club.”
“Maybe.” I tapped my chin and paced in front of the sofa. “Why would someone put a hit on you? Who did you piss off?”
He shrugged. “I have a successful business. If I’m out of the way, it’s up for grabs.”
His business? Illegal endeavors was more like it. Sullivan was a criminal. Period. Of course he would be a target for other criminals who wanted to move up the food chain. I forgot sometimes who he was, what he did. “What were you doing tonight at The Bottom Dollar?” I stepped toward him. “It’s Clay, isn’t it? Clay wants you dead. Clay wants your business.”
Sullivan just stared at me.
I placed a hand on his chest. “My God, you’re so stubborn.”
He covered my hand with his own, stroked my wrist.
“Boss.”
We jerked apart and turned our heads toward Henry, who stood in the doorway. “Just heard on the police scanner, the cigar bar is on fire.”
Chapter 15
Sullivan swiftly pulled his phone out of his pocket, realized it was my phone and thrust it at me. I took it and slipped it in my coat pocket while he called someone. “What’s happening?” he asked. “Do you know how it started?” His eyes narrowed as he listened. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up. “I’ve got to go. Henry, stay here, keep watch.” He stormed out of the room and down the hallway. I had to run to keep up with him.
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
“I think I should go with you, too, boss. This sounds like a way to draw you out.” Henry followed us.
“I agree,” I said. “Let Henry drive.”
Sullivan stopped and I ran into his shoulder blade. I rubbed my nose and took two steps back.
“Fine,” Sullivan said.
“Let me grab my stuff,” Henry said.
I wondered if by stuff he meant guns and illegal weapons. I kind of hoped so. Made me feel safer.
I climbed into the backseat of the SUV and Sullivan took shotgun. Henry trotted toward us a moment later, pulling his coat over his brawny shoulders. I caught a glimpse of a holstered gun strapped to his side. He slid behind the wheel and when the factory door slid up, he backed out of the building.
Henry shifted out of reverse when I heard a deafening crash. For a second, I tried to figure out what had happened. Then I realized a bullet had ripped through the cargo door window and whizzed past my ear.
Sullivan threw himself into the backseat, tossing me down until I lay across the floor. He covered me with his body. “Get us out of here,” he yelled.
Henry peeled out, balls to the wall. I heard two more pings.
Oh my God. Someone was shooting at us. My brain finally caught up to the reality of the situation. Took it long enough.
We raced through the streets, twisting, turning, with the wind whipping loudly around us through the shattered window. I felt nauseous and scared. My cheeks were cold, but the rest of me, covered in Sullivan, was warm. He placed his hand protectively on the top of my head, his other hand on my hip.
Eventually, he eased off me just a bit, his knee wedged between my thighs. “Are they still behind us?” he yelled up at Henry.
“Don’t see ’em.”
“Keep driving, make sure.”
He moved away from me and the cold hit, making me shiver. He sat on the bench seat, poking his head up, looking out of the busted back window.
Then he faced forward, keeping his head low. I crawled up to join him, but he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Stay down,” he yelled above the howling wind.
I sat on the floor but leaned my back against the door. What a crazy freaking night. I glanced at my phone and read the message from Ax. He and Stoner Joe were home, but hadn’t discovered anything about Crystal from the other dancers.
After half an hour of circling the city, we finally stopped on a dark, deserted road. When Henry pulled over to the shoulder and the wind died down, quiet descended over the car. I blew out a breath, could see it fog in front of my face.
“What now?” Henry asked Sullivan.
“We need to get to one of the safe houses,” he said.
“How do you know they haven’t all been compromised?” I asked. I stretched my legs and climbed up onto the seat next to Sullivan. I ran a hand through my cycloned mane, trying to brush out all the tangles.
“I don’t.” He rubbed his forehead.
“There’s no place safe, boss. She’s right, we have to assume they’re all a target.”
“I know a place,” I said, “but you’re not going to like it.”
*
“It’s not much, but I’ve got some sleeping bags you can pitch down here. You’ll have to use the bathroom upstairs,” Axton said.
I glanced around the dated rumpus room. Red and white shuffleboard tiles covered each end of the long narrow floor. The walls were patterned in green and white checkered wallpaper that gave me eyestrain, and two burnt orange lamps hung on chains in opposite corners.
Sullivan nodded. “I appreciate it. But you can’t tell anyone we’re here.”
Stoner Joe stroked a braided string on his purple tuque. He pointed at Henry. “Dude, you look familiar. Did I see you in an episode of Law and Order?”
I rolled my eyes. Poor Joe’s brain was fried. I didn’t think he was all that smart to begin with but add in years of pot usage and he was down to a handful of functioning cells.
“Ax, why don’t you take Henry upstairs and show him the facilities?”
Axton glanced from Sullivan to me. “Right. Come on, Joe.” I was surprised Ax didn’t whistle and pat his leg, like he was calling a dog.
Joe shuffled after Ax and Henry. Once I heard the door shut, I gazed up at Sullivan.
“What’s going to happen now?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry I put you in danger tonight.”
Sullivan feeling guilty. That was a new one. And I realized he wasn’t going to help me find Asshat’s assailant. We weren’t going to team up like Superman and Batman to stave off the forces of evil—oh my God, I was starting to think like Axton. I rubbed my temples.
I was on my own in the Asshat investigation. Sullivan had his own problems, but his new threat added to my worries. It was important to me that he was alive and well and involved in various criminal enterprises. Well, I wished he would get out of his various criminal enterprises and go legit. I cared about him.
Damn it, when did that happen?
I realized I’d been staring at him like he was an alien pod person from one of Axton’s movies, so I looked away. “I’ll bring sheets and towels tomorrow.”
He pulled out his wallet and handed me a wad of cash. “Take this. Bring some food, too.”
“You know, I think I’ll start calling you the Bossy Jackass again,” I said, tucking the bills into my pocket. That’s what I called him before I discovered his name. Apparently it still fit.
“Do you want me to beg?”
I scoffed. “Yes, I’d love it. But I’ll settle for a please.”
He glared at me instead.
“Fine, I’ll be by tomorrow evening.” I moved to climb the stairs, but his hand snagged mine, pulled me back.
“Thank you.”
I didn’t linger. I was afraid I might hop on him and ride him like one of the strippers at The Bottom Dollar.
I jogged upstairs to confer with Ax in the dining alcove and looked around the house for the first time. Green garland, two decorated trees—with dueling themes of Star Trek and Star Wars—and mistletoe abounded. There was even a miniature snow-covered village set up on the dining room table with X-men figurines mingling amongst the villagers.
“Ax, it looks like Christmas threw up in here.”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans and grinned. “I like it. It’s the season of yuletide and cheer and all that. You need to give in, Rose.” He unpocketed one hand and poked my shoulder. “I know you, like, harbor the spirit of the season somewhere.”
I couldn’t even begin to think about the season and presents and cheer. I had too many problems. “Nobody can know that Sullivan’s staying here. He’s not trusting his own people at this point.”
Ax nodded and stroked a patch of facial hair. “You got it. What else do you need?”
“Clay Davidson and Stuart Weiner.”
I waited until he finished laughing. “Yes, I said Weiner. That’s Baldy and Weasel to you. Anyway, Stuart chased me through the parking lot of the strip club tonight. That’s where Sullivan picked me up.”
“I’m on it,” he said, still grinning.
“I’m going to get some supplies and bring them over tomorrow. You have to keep Stoner Joe in the house. He’s like a geyser, you never know when he’s going to spew out information.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I’ll make up a batch of brownies and dole them out, judicious like. Just make sure you bring over lots of chips tomorrow. And Funions. He loves those.”
I touched his shoulder. “Ax, I know you might have some bad feelings about Sullivan and you have every right—”
“Rose,” he grabbed my hand and patted it. “He helped you, man. I’m not harshing on the dude.”
Axton Fuller Graystone had the purest heart of anyone I’d ever known.
*
The next morning, I filled Roxy in on the excitement of the previous night. Except the kiss. I wanted to keep it to myself.
My tale was a long one and she had oodles of questions. We continued to talk as we got ready to open for business. “You can’t tell anyone about Sullivan, Rox. I mean no one.”
She shoved a second piece of gum into her mouth. “I got it. But shit, someone shot at you?”
“Say it a little louder next time. I don’t think they heard you over in Kansas.” I didn’t want Ma to get wind of what went down. She’d only worry and she had enough on her plate. Namely chicken. She remained in the kitchen, stirring some chicken concoction over the stove as if it were witches’ brew.
Roxy glanced over her shoulder to make sure we were alone. “You get so dramatic when it involves Sullivan.”
“Not the point,” I said. “You have to be discreet. Also, I texted Janelle last night after I got home. We’re going to put some pressure on Sheik’s brother, LD, see if he’s heard from Marcus.”
She grabbed the napkin holders on the counter and shoved two in my direction. I automatically began filling them.
“Why the personal visit?” she asked.
“He probably won’t talk to us over the phone. Janelle threatened to rip his balls off the last time we saw him. We’re going to his garage this time.”
She made a face as she attempted to stuff more napkins than the holder could handle, causing one side to bulge. “What makes you think he’ll talk to you in person?”
“I’m not sure he will, but we have to try. I stopped by Crystal’s last night, but she wasn’t home. And other than Bank Teller Brenda’s husband, which is number two on my list of places to visit, LD’s the only angle I can work right now.”
She sighed dramatically. “All right, I’ll come with you. You never know when you might need a little backup.”
I gazed at the flounces, bows, and ruffles on her red and white dress. She looked like a five-year-old on her way to a birthday party, not ball-busting backup. But I wasn’t picky and I knew how scrappy she could be.
