Diner Impossible, page 17
He grinned. “Nope, sorry. Just my luck.”
I tapped my pen against my lower lip. “So, why aren’t you a higher rank? I mean, ensign’s pretty low on the Star Trek totem pole, right?”
The smile faded. “You’d have to ask Captain Smith about that.” Hmm. There was a story here.
“Captain Smith seems very…intense about all this. He’s the one keeping you from advancing? That hardly seems fair when you’ve got degrees and everything.”
He paused for a moment. “Okay, I’m going to tell you this, but you have to swear to secrecy, by the laws of the Alliance.”
“Of course.” What were the Laws of the Alliance again?
“Captain Smith and I were at a Con four years ago and we both finaled in the Picard tribute video contest. I won. He’s been mad about it ever since and refuses to recommend me for promotion.”
“That must be rough. Why don’t you stage a coup? Overthrow the Captain and take control?”
He looked at me like I’d suddenly turned into one of the Borg collective. “That’s treason.”
We sat in silence for a few.
“Would you like to see my entry for this year’s Con?” he asked.
No. “Love it.” He handed me his phone and I scrolled through the pics.
“I painted a portrait of Spock in his dress uniform,” he said. The painting wasn’t half bad. For a portrait of Leonard Nemoy.
But jeez Louise, Ray Jones was a slob. I quickly tapped his screen and saw pics that included his bedroom. Piles and piles of dirty laundry covered the floor in front of the easel. And he had Trek posters hanging all over the walls. “You’re really talented, Ray.”
“Thanks.”
I handed his phone back. “Did you see anything strange the night the uniform was taken?”
He shook his head. “Not that I can remember.” He pointed to the overhead screen. “It’s my turn. Nice to meet you, Rose.” Then he hurried off.
I glanced around, searching for Roxy. She stood in between two Starfleet guys, her hands feeling up their biceps as she giggled. She glanced back at Brian more than once, but he showed no signs of noticing.
Ma, arms crossed over her I’m Not Irish, But Kiss Me Anyway sweatshirt, bobbed her head at the bald man she sat next to, listening as he talked. Ma was an excellent listener. Hopefully, she was uncovering a clue or two.
As I was contemplating what Ensign Jones had said, Beehive slinked her way toward me. “Hello, I’m Lieutenant Junior Grade Katherine Donner.” She sat in front of me and crossed her long legs. Even though the go-go boots stopped mid-calf, she flashed more leg than a Rockette doing the can-can.
Roxy started to storm our way, but with a little shake of my head, I held her off. “So, tell me about the laser tag.”
She sat up straight, making the most of her torpedo boobs and checked to see if Brian was watching. He was. “I was hit midway through the game.”
“Where did people go when they got zapped?”
“To the little concession area down the hall or off to the side to watch the action. We brought sub sandwiches and the KAWs brought dessert and chips. We all wandered around, talking to each other.”
“Where were you?”
“In the concession room.”
“Did you ever leave the room?”
Her brown eyes darted around the alley. “I went to the restroom once. And Brian and I slipped behind the theater for a bit of fresh air.” She frowned at me, causing a little crease to appear between her eyes. “You don’t think I took the uniform, do you?”
I was tired of people asking me that question. Of course I suspected them. I suspected everyone. Guilty until proven otherwise. “Did you meet any of the Trekkers outside?”
“No. Brian and I were too busy with each other. You know what I mean.”
I knew exactly what she meant. And that was bad news for Roxy. She was obsessing about Brian because she didn’t want to dwell on her breakup with Tariq. And Brian was turning out to be a dick.
“What about the rest of the night? Anyone missing?”
“I don’t remember seeing Axton. And Sid was in the bathroom for a long time at The Carp. I remember because he seemed really upset when he went in and much calmer when he came out. Anyway, everyone knows the KAWs took the trophy. They’re the only ones who could have.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but one thing I was certain of, Axton didn’t take that uniform. “I heard Melissa Sue was engaged to a Fleetie. Can you point him out?”
She glanced toward the lanes. “Chief Petty Officer Sid Rivers.” He’d been the man talking to Ma. Tall, thin, nerdy, round glasses. And he’d just bowled a strike.
“Tell him I want to see him next. By the way, how long have you been crushing on Brian?”
“Since he got into town almost a year ago,” she said, lifting her shoulders. “Why?”
“Into town? From where?”
“Nebraska. He was a Cornhusker KAW and switched chapters.” She patted the top of her wig. “Did he say something about me?”
“Nothing at all,” I said. “In fact, he claimed he didn’t have a girlfriend. When I saw you throwing your goodies at him, I thought you were just another Klingon groupie.”
She stood, placed her hands on her hips, which made the hem of her dress rise to panty-flashing levels. “I was not throwing my goodies, okay? It may not be official, but we’re going out.”
“Sorry. I guess I got my wires crossed.”
She dropped her hands and ran them over her short uniform. “You did.” She straightened her shoulders before sauntering off.
Katherine Donner and Brian deserved each other. I hoped Roxy would come to that conclusion as well.
Melissa Sue’s ex-fiancé stepped up next. “I’m Sid Rivers.” He didn’t sit but hovered over me with a scowl on his face. “Let’s get this over with. No, I didn’t take the uniform. Yes, I was engaged to Melissa Sue and yes, it hurts like hell, but that doesn’t mean I’m a thief. Are we clear on that?”
“Clear. So when did you break up?”
He pulled a square of bright purple cloth from his pocket and nervously rubbed it between his fingers. “When she hooked up with Dale. We were supposed to be married next month. A Trekker wedding.”
“Divak Khard? That Dale?” Hmm. There was a twist for you. But curiosity won out over a missing Kirk shirt or a Trekker love triangle. “What’s a Star Trek wedding look like?”
“We were going to dress in our uniforms and serve Trek dishes, like groat cakes—crepes. Gagh. Noodles, not real worms, of course. We even hired a decorator to replicate the bridge of the Enterprise.” He cast his eyes down to the cloth and wadded it in his fist.
“I’m so sorry.” Despite Sid’s protests, he could have taken the uniform to get back at the KAWs. I remembered Ax saying something about Divak Khard and Sid getting into a fight at the end of the battle. I thought it had been about laser tag, but they were fighting because of Melissa Sue.
Lifting his lenses, he rubbed at his eyes. “We had a love that was as undeniable as the fact that The Wrath of Khan was the best movie featuring the original cast.” He shoved the square of material back in his pocket and stumbled up the stairs toward the bar.
I talked to the rest of the Fleeties and heard the same song and dance. No one saw anything. The thief must be a KAW.
After a while, Ax climbed the stairs and sat next to me. “Any news?”
“Captain Smith is an asshole, Ensign Jones can’t get promoted, Sid still loves Melissa Sue, and Brian played Roxy.”
He shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against my arm. “I already knew all that.”
“So Melissa Sue canceled her wedding because of Divak/Dale? You might have mentioned it.”
“It happened months ago. Sid found them in bed together.”
I gasped. “Isn’t that cause for termination from the group or something? I thought you guys were all about honor. There’s not much honor in cheating.”
“That’s part of the Klingon way. Divak Khard was the stronger of the two men, strong enough to get the girl.”
“But Ax, you’re not really Klingons. And that had to kill him, seeing his fiancé in bed with someone else. At the very least, his pride took a serious hit.”
He nodded. “I’m not condoning what they did, Rose. This is why everyone suspects Dale. He stole another dude’s girl, why not the uniform?” He bumped his fist gently on my knee. “How’s the other thing going? You making any headway in finding the killer?”
I laid my head against his shoulder. “I don’t know. Probably not.”
Ax patted my hair. “You will. And you’ll find out who stole the uniform, too. It’s what you do, Rosie.”
I wished I felt as confident in my abilities as he did. I opened my mouth to tell him that when a high-pitched scream echoed through the room. Ax and I both jumped to our feet at the same time.
Roxy and Beehive faced off near the ball return, yelling at the top of their lungs.
“Then why was he with me last night?” Roxy yelled.
“He’ll be with me tonight, bitch.” Beehive slapped her hands in the middle of Roxy’s chest and shoved her back three steps. Oh hell no. Big mistake.
By the time Ax and I rushed toward the lanes, the Starfleet crew had crowded around the two women, obscuring our view. I pushed my way through the group to find Captain Smith trying to pry them apart. But Roxy had pulled off Beehive’s wig and flung it at him. It looked like he was getting face-humped by a hairy, blonde alien.
Then the two girls clung to the other’s arms, each grappling for the upper hand. But Beehive’s slick boots were no match for Roxy’s thick-soled lace ups. Standing her ground, Roxy gave a final push and sent Beehive sliding over the foul line and down the lane where she waved her arms like a pinwheel before landing flat on her butt. Her real blonde hair lay in a messy tangle down her back, and sitting with her legs wider than a wishbone, Beehive screeched her plans for revenge and tried to stand, only to slip and fall all over again. On her stomach this time, causing her skirt to fly up over her ass.
Captain Smith straddled the gutter, carefully making his way toward her. Grabbing her boot, the captain pulled her to him, causing her dress to ride up to her boobs. When the bare skin of her belly kept her from being dragged further, her boot popped off, and Smith went sliding like penguin on ice into the other lane.
I snatched Roxy and Axton’s arms and yanked them backward. This wasn’t going to end well.
Ma stood on the outer edge of the group. I caught her eye and jerked my head toward the front of the building. She nodded and grabbed her ball, shoving it in her bag.
Ma had thrown on her coat, and the four of us made like the wind and scampered up the steps, leaving the mayhem behind. I cast one last glance over my shoulder. Beehive still couldn’t gain any footing. The captain’s bare belly hung free from his too-tight uniform as he scooted his butt toward the crowd.
We were almost to the double doors when Wanda and her cigarette moved to block our exit. “You need to take your friend with you. We have a lane surfing policy.” She pointed to the other end of the building where Stoner Joe slid up and down the last lane in his stockinged feet.
From the other direction, Beehive was trying to free herself from alley purgatory, all the while wailing and pointing in our direction. Shit.
Ax thrust Ma’s bowling bag in my arms. “Take this and get them home. I’ll grab Joe and catch a ride with Brian. And remember, live long and prosper, dude.”
Chapter 21
I dropped Ma off first, carrying her heavy bag to the front door and waited until she slid the lock home before heading back to the car. As I did, big, fat drops of rain splatted to the ground.
Roxy had climbed in the front seat and stared forlornly out the window. I hated seeing her depressed like this. And it wasn’t because of that ass, Brian. “You were a great girlfriend, Rox. Tariq’s going to be sorry he let you go.”
She sniffed. “I know.”
“Want to go with me to Bar None? I’ll make Dane buy you lots of cocktails?”
She shook her head. “No. You go investigate. I’m tired.”
I dropped her off and watched her and her drooping shoulders disappear through the front door.
Sitting in the car, I texted Dane and told him I’d be a few late. Roxy’s apartment wasn’t that far from Jason Hall’s complex. I could swing by, grill him like a weenie about his relationship with Delia, then head to the bar to meet Dane.
I took the highway and drove south until I reached Cedar Ridge Apartments. Built in the late seventies, I imagined it was the type of place that housed newly divorced dads before they hooked up with wife number two. Or three. The gray concrete structures must have been designed by a defector from the Soviet Union, because bleak didn’t begin to cover it.
I found Jason Hall’s building and strode inside. The smell of cabbage and onions was strong. Almost stronger than the undertone of musky cologne and moldy, stained orange carpet.
I booked up the stairs to apartment 3A and rapped on the door. When he didn’t answer, I knocked louder. No sounds came from the apartment, but the TV boomed from the unit across the hall, so I tapped on that door, too.
A man with a sparse mustache and even sparser hair—five greasy strands made their way from one ear to the other by way of his bald head—answered the door. “Hello,” he hollered over the TV. Placing one hand on the doorjamb, he leaned toward me. “What can I do for you, lovely lady?”
“Have you seen Jason around?” I hiked a thumb at the apartment behind me.
He smiled and let’s just say oral hygiene didn’t seem like a top priority. “Not today. Why don’t you come in and wait for him?”
“When does he usually show up?”
He shrugged. “He’s gone for days sometimes.” I turned and made for the stairs.
“Wait,” he called. “Come back. I have a waterbed. And light beer.”
Hard to resist an offer like that, but I managed. Hopping back behind the wheel, I drove to my meetup with Dane.
Bar None sat back from the road. A brick building with an overflowing parking lot, the bar had become a popular, sophisticated place just a block into the poor side of town. Which made it a draw for the Richie Riches in Huntingford. Just lowbrow and jazzy enough for them to feel safe, yet hip, at the same time.
The room was dark—not Bob’s Fine Italian dark though. This place had ambiance and the subdued lighting added to it. I walked further inside. Voices, laughter, and a bluesy-voiced African American woman stood near a baby grand singing The Girl from Ipanema. Her silver, beaded dress was a striking contrast against her dark, toned legs.
I spotted Dane immediately. He’d been on the lookout and waved me over to a two-person table close to the stage.
He placed both hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek. He waited until I sat, then skirted his chair around the small table until he was right next to me, rubbing his knee against mine. I pulled away and moved my legs a few inches to the left.
Handsome, tall, and muscular in all the tasty places, Dane’s good looks were enhanced by his baby blue eyes, which twinkled at me. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Even though you only call when you need something.”
The chiding words made me feel the slightest bit guilty. While I liked Dane, I didn’t want to lead him on. “Sorry about that,” I said. He’d ordered me a drink—white wine, which he knew was my go-to cocktail. I took a sip. Cool, dry, and very refreshing. Much better than the box o’ wine I usually guzzled. I reached into my purse and dug out my trusty little notebook.
“So, what’s the scoop on Delia?”
He tugged the notebook from my hands. “Let’s drink and enjoy the music. Just half an hour. Is that too much to ask?”
I shrugged and sipped at my wine, listening to the lady’s sultry version of a Frank Sinatra tune. I felt myself relaxing a bit. Maybe it was the wine or the soothing music, but when Dane’s arm slid along the back of my chair, I didn’t move away.
When she finished singing, we all clapped, and I snagged my notebook back. “Okay, solicitor, it’s time to give me the scoop. Delia Cummings and Martin Mathers. Go.”
Dane sighed. He leaned toward me, speaking low into my ear as he gave me the rundown. “Rumor had it that Delia and Martin were an item. Had been from the moment she started working for him. I believed it. She watched him constantly and acted as if every word out of his mouth was a nugget of gold.”
I leaned my head away to glance at him. “I know all that. But didn’t she care that people were talking about her? It didn’t bother her at all?”
“I think she liked it. She made it her business to hear all the courthouse gossip and ran right back to Mathers with it.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. I knew all that, too. “What about David Ashby? What’s he like?”
“What’s he got to do with this?”
I just stared at him until he sighed. “Fine. Ashby is ambitious. Word is out that the Prosecuting Attorney is going to make a bid for Lieutenant Governor. Ashby wants the head PA spot so badly, he’s practically drooling.”
“Do you like him?”
“No. He’s an arrogant jerk. Very guarded, very phony. Even when he’s talking sports or the weather, you see the wheels turning in his brain. I don’t trust him.”
Sullivan thought Delia had been screwing Ashby on Martin’s orders. What if she threatened to disclose their affair? Sullivan thought David Ashby could ride out a scandal and land on his feet, but what if all he wanted was to climb the political ladder? Delia Cummings might have gotten in his way.
“What about his wife, Charlotte?” I asked.
Dane raised his brows. “I’ve met her a few times. She’s okay. Doesn’t seem very bright. She’s quite a fangirl, though. Comes to court and watches Ashby.”
I made a note of everything he said. “How well do you know Annabelle Mathers?”
“Not well at all. Met her a couple times at the club. She’s one of those women who sort of blend into the background. But from what I understand, their kids are a mess. The youngest one’s been to rehab several times and the oldest has mental issues.”
