I reached over, grabbed the remote control from his lap, and turned off the television.
He gazed at me, his brow furrowed. “What’d you do that for?”
“Axton hasn’t shown up for work, he hasn’t been home, and he left the house last night without taking his car. I’m worried about him.”
He reached for the remote control, but I tossed it over my shoulder and heard it thunk against the wall. “Joe…Axton is missing.”
“Dude, that was so uncool.”
“Focus. Where did Ax go the other night? The club, where was it?”
“Um, can I have the remote back, please? I need to see if Samantha’s mom turns Darren back into a dude.”
I leaned down, my face inches from Joe’s. “She does.”
He blew out a breath and I winced. “Man, I hate spoilers. You are seriously harshing me.”
Straightening up, I closed my eyes for a second. I obviously needed to go about this in a different way. I settled myself on the edge of the sofa and patted his shoulder. “Joe, we need to find Axton. I’m afraid he’s in trouble.”
He nodded, seeming to understand. Okay, we were making progress.
“Did he tell you anything about the club? Anything at all?”
With his mouth hanging open, he lowered his brows and rolled his eyes upward. Awww, he was trying to think. Mostly though it looked like he was trying to poop. “I know he said something about an invitation.”
“Right,” I nodded. “Do you know where he was going?”
“Um…some club? It sounded kind of boring.”
“Where was the club, Joe? Think really hard, because this is important.”
He scrunched up his face and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked like a sad puppy that had peed on the carpet. “I don’t know.”
“What about last night? What did Axton say when he got home?”
“He told me to save him a piece of pizza.” He gestured toward the empty box. “And like, I totally would have if he hadn’t skipped out.”
I sighed. “Where did he go last night, before he came home, I mean?”
He shrugged his bony shoulders. “Sorry, Rose. Can I have my remote back? I Dream of Jeannie is on next. I love her, man.”
I rubbed my temple. I was starting to get a headache to go along with the pain in my ass named Joe. “Sure. I’m going to check out Axton’s room, okay?” Not waiting for his reply, I walked down the hall.
After climbing through the window last night, I’d unlocked Ax’s door. I hadn’t wanted to search his room then, because it seemed like such an invasion of his privacy. Today it seemed like a good idea.
It was even more of a wreck in the daylight and the sour, musty smell hit me hard, just like it had the night before. The bed was unmade and I had trouble telling whether the sheets had once been white or if they had always been that shade of gray. Little mountains of clothes were piled up across the floor.
I surveyed the room and tried to figure out where to start. The desk was as good a place as any.
It was one of those discount store models you put together yourself. The top was cluttered with jewel cases filled with burned CDs and gaming magazines. I looked in the cubbyholes and found a bag of pot — no surprise there — and not much else. I flipped through the gaming magazines to make sure there were no loose papers between the pages.
Glancing around the rest of the room, I realized was going to have to touch that bed. My whole body shivered and I took a deep breath, wishing like crazy I had thought to bring gloves.
Under the bed were dust balls and spank mags, featuring women with novelty breasts the size of beach balls. I did the same thing and shook them to be sure there were no loose papers inside. Some of the pages were stuck together. I gagged a little. I lifted the twin mattress and found bubkes, as Ma would say.
Next I carefully made my way to the small bookcase where books had been haphazardly shoved on the shelves. All science fiction — natch — and as I thumbed my way through the pages, I noticed a theme. Most of the covers depicted large breasted women in skimpy outfits. Some wielded swords, some stood tall, their legs in a wide stance, their ginormous breasts thrust out. Axton really liked the boobies.
The closet yielded nothing but a few faded t-shirts, one pair of khakis, and a dirty pair of tennis shoes on the floor. A cardboard chest of drawers held his socks and a lone pair of underwear.
I glanced around the room one more time, trying to take in anything that might hold a clue, and spied two pairs of jeans tossed in the corner. I picked my way through the dirty boxer bombs to get to them. Holding up the first pair with two fingers, I felt around in the pockets. Nothing. But in the front left pocket of the second pair, I found a folded yellow Post-it with the words NorthStar Inc. written in Axton’s blocky handwriting.
I smiled. I didn’t know if this was a clue, but I felt kind of excited.
With the paper tucked in my pocket, I scooped up all the burned CDs from the desk and slipped them into my purse. I doubted they contained any clues to Ax’s whereabouts, but I wanted to be sure. I left the bedroom and went into the living room for one last attempt at Joe.
“Joe?”
“Mmm?” he didn’t look away from the TV.
“Joe?” I said, louder this time.
His glassy gaze drifted my way. “Hey, Rose, you still here?”
“What did Axton wear to the club?”
He blinked, and seemed sharper, more alert for a moment. He grinned and snapped his fingers. “He had on this jacket, like you wear to funerals and stuff.”
“A suit jacket?”
“Yeah, and pants.”
“Slacks?” In all the years I’d known Ax, I’d never seen him in a suit. I didn’t even know he owned one.
“Yeah, not like jeans or anything.” He stared at the wall next to my head, the glazed look back in his eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Kind of like the dude who dropped by earlier.”
“What?” My heart hammered in my chest. “What dude?”
“Some tall dude who looked in Ax’s room.”
I stomped over to the TV and shut it off, then blocked it with my body. “What tall dude?”
“I don’t know, man. A guy showed up and asked for Ax…,” he looked up at the ceiling, “this morning?”
I buried my face in my hands. So help me God, I was going to strangle this moron with his own hat strings. I took a deep breath. “Joe. Start at the beginning. A dude came to the house. What did he look like?”
He scratched the top of his head. “Like a funeral guy, I told you.”
“What did he say? Tell me exactly.”
His stomach rumbled and he looked up at me. “Huh, did you hear that?”
“What did he say?” My jaw was clenched so tight, I could barely move my lips.
“Man, chill. He said Ax had something important and he needed to search the Axman’s room. Like you did.”
I stepped closer to Joe. “Did he find anything? Please Joe, please focus.”
“No…” he tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes for so long I thought he’d fallen asleep. Then they popped open. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ah man, I don’t know.”
I could tell I wasn’t going to get any more out of him, no matter how much I pushed. “Joe,” I said slowly, “I want you to call me if the man comes back.”
“Sure.” He dug into the chip bag and brought out a handful of crumbs. Half made it into his mouth and the other half landed on his shirt. “No problem.”
I stared at him in frustration. I had no doubt Joe would completely forget our conversation, let alone his promise to call, if this guy showed up again.
As I left the house and made my way to the car, I dug in my purse for hand sanitizer, pouring half the bottle into my palm. The bright blue October sky was completely at odds with my dark mood. There was just a little breeze, a nip of fall in the air. Still, I was freezing.
> I now knew Axton wore a suit to a club, had the name of a company that may or may not, in any way, be related to Axton’s disappearance, and knew a man had searched Ax’s room before I got there. It had to be the same mystery man I’d met in the woods. What was this guy looking for? And what would happen if he found Ax before I did?
Chapter 5
On TV they say you must wait forty-eight hours before a person is considered missing. I hoped that wasn’t the case in real life. I knew Axton was missing and I needed him back.
I drove to the better side of Huntingford where the police station resided. The old station had been an historical landmark, but the city built a new one fifteen years ago. It was now a generic brick box.
As I walked through the doors, my feet met industrial grade dark green carpet. A large framed aerial view of the city hung on the off-white wall to the right. Except for a few people in police uniforms milling around, it wasn’t at all what I imagined a police station would look like. Where were the criminals handcuffed to chairs? Where were the hookers in bad wigs? I didn’t think we had a large hooker population in Huntingford, but I still felt a little let down.
I walked to the window near the front door where a uniformed female officer sat behind a desk and stared, unblinking, at a computer. “Can I help you?” she asked in a bored voice.
“Uh, yeah, I’d like to report a missing person?” My hands felt clammy and I wiped them on my jeans. I didn’t know why I was nervous. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
She looked up at me then. Her gaze took in my hair, face, and red t-shirt. “Who’s missing?”
“My friend, Axton.”
With a sigh, she stood. She wasn’t very tall, but she was sturdy, like a fire hydrant with big boobs. Just Axton’s type. “How long has your friend been missing?”
“Since last night.”
She sighed again and sat down. “I can take an information report, put his name in the database. If you want to make a missing person report, you need to wait forty-eight hours. Thank you.” She dismissed me and returned to her computer.
“He called me for help, but we were disconnected. He gave me his backpack. He’s never without his backpack.” I did a little jazz hand move, trying to get my point across. “He left his home without his car and no one’s heard from him. He didn’t show up for work today. Don’t you think that’s suspicious? Because, personally,” I pointed to my chest, “I find that very suspicious. And there’s a man in a suit looking for him.”
She held up her hand to stop me. “Ma’am, you need to lower your voice.”
I took a breath and nodded. “Sorry. I’m just very concerned. This isn’t like him at all.”
“Give me his name and DOB and I’ll put him in the system.”
I did, and she tapped on the keyboard and fiddled with the mouse for a couple of minutes, and then eyeballed me. “He’s got two misdemeanors for marijuana possession.”
“So?”
“Most likely he’ll come home soon. They usually do. If you haven’t heard from him in forty-eight hours,” she stressed that part, “then you can make a report.”
This time I didn’t argue with her, even though irritation churned in my stomach. I was about to turn and leave when someone called my name.
“Rosalyn? Rosalyn Strickland?”
A man walked toward me from the main hallway branching off the foyer. He had very short brown hair with a hint of wave to it. He carried a briefcase and the tailored navy suit he wore complemented his light blue eyes. Not my type, but yummy in a corporate way.
He caught up to me and smiled. He was handsome before that smile appeared, but after… Let’s just say there were dimples involved.
“It is you. Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself,” I said, not knowing who the hell he was.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Um…”
He laughed. Those dimples returned, and they were darn cute. “I’m Dane Harker.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry…”
“We went to school together until I moved away in eighth grade.”
“Ah, okay.” I still had no idea who he was.
“I sat right behind you in Mrs. Henky’s sixth grade class. I wore hideous glasses, had a mouthful of braces.” He pointed to his face.
Then I saw it, the nerdy boy who used to shush me. He’d really changed. “Right, Dane. How’ve you been?” I suddenly was very conscious that I hadn’t yet showered, wore no makeup, and my blonde hair — one of my best features — was pulled up in a half-assed ponytail. I touched it nervously. I wondered how he even recognized me.
“I’ve been well.” His smile widened. “So what are you doing here?”
A light bulb went on over my head. Maybe this guy could help me. “Are you a cop?”
“No, an attorney. I was here to see a client.”
“Oh.”
“But I know some. Cops, I mean. Do you have a parking ticket or something?”
“No, nothing like that. Thanks, though. It was good to see you.” I turned toward the door, but his voice drew me back.
“Rosalyn. I may not be a cop, but if you tell me what’s wrong, maybe I could help.”
“I don’t think you can. And I couldn’t afford you anyway.” My gaze slid over him, from head to toe. “You look expensive.”
He laughed. “I am expensive. But for an old friend, I’ll give a discount. I haven’t had lunch yet and I’m starving. Buy me burger and I’ll listen to your problems.” He shifted the briefcase from his left hand to his right and glanced at his watch. “I have forty-five minutes.”
I shrugged. “I could use someone to bounce ideas off of.”
We wound up at The Burger Barn down the street from the police station. I got the Barnyard burger with special sauce and tater tots and Dane got a triple Moo with curly fries. Once we tucked ourselves into a yellow plastic booth, our food in front of us, Dane took the lead.
“What are you up to these days, Rosalyn?”
I raised my chin and sat up a little straighter. “I go by Rose. I take night classes at the city college and work at Ma’s Diner as a waitress.”
“Wow, I haven’t eaten there since I was a kid. Are the pancakes as good as I remember?” He got a faraway look in his eyes.
“Yeah, they’re delicious.” He hadn’t even flinched. A point in his favor. Usually when I mentioned my occupation to people from my old life, they shifted their eyes away in embarrassment, as if I’d blurted out I had a yeast infection instead of the fact I served flapjacks for a living.
He pulled himself back from short stacks of yesteryear to the present. “What kind of trouble are you having?” He had his burger in one hand, a curly fry in the other and alternated bites, burger, fry, burger, fry. Seemed he had a system.
“My friend, Axton Graystone, is missing and the police won’t take a report until he’s been gone forty-eight hours.”
He nodded. “That’s standard procedure. And I think I remember Axton. Scrawny kid, blond hair?”
“That’s him.”
Sucking on his strawberry milkshake, he narrowed his eyes. “Is Axton related to Packard Graystone?”
“Yeah.” I swirled a tot in pool of ketchup. “They’re brothers.”
“I see Pack at the country club from time to time. He’s got a mean golf swing. How long has Axton been missing?”
“Since last night.”
“Have you contacted his family?”
“Not yet.” I shared all the crazy of the last two days including the Post-it I found and the man in the woods.
“You have no idea who the mystery man is and all you have to go on is this NorthStar Inc.?” He’d finished eating and now leaned back, wiping his hands on a paper napkin.
“I don’t know where Ax is or where he went last night or if NorthStar has anything to do with his disappearance. And I have no clue why this guy wants Axton.”
He propped his elbow on the table and looked at me
like he could see right through me. Uncomfortable with that level of scrutiny, I shifted in my seat.
“Do you want me to look into this company for you?”
“I told you, I can’t afford you.”
His light blue gaze never left my face. “You’ve already paid me with a Moo burger,” he said with a smile. “I haven’t had a Moo in years.”
The way he said Moo sounded naughty. I stared at a cartoon picture of a cow on the wall next to us. “Sure, that would be great.” I glanced back at him. “Why are you doing this for me?”
“It’s the least I can do.” He gathered up the trash and put it on the tray.
“No, the least you could do is nothing.” Why would some guy I barely remember go out of his way for me? And no, I wasn’t always this suspicious, but the last couple of days made me wary.
“Fine. I may have had a very small crush on you back in the day. It was probably all that time I spent staring at your head.”
“You were always telling me to shut up.”
“You were noisy,” he said. “And it got you to turn around and look at me.”
I laughed. “That’s diabolical.” I grabbed my purse, pulled out a pen and a piece of paper then wrote down my home and cell numbers. “Here.”
A half smile teased his lips. “See, I got your number.”
“Yeah, and I’ve got yours.” I scooted out of the booth, dragging my purse behind me.
Dane did the same, except without the purse, and slipped on his suit jacket. He pulled a white business card and a gold pen from his pocket and wrote something on the back of it. “Here are my numbers — business, home, cell. If you need any help or get into trouble, give me a call.”
I shoved his card in my pocket as we left The Burger Barn, then crossed the street at the light. A large black SUV with tinted windows slowed to a stop across the road. I remembered seeing one just like it outside the diner the day Axton disappeared.
Black SUVs weren’t a rarity. I saw them all the time. But ever since Axton gave me his backpack, I’d been paranoid about everything. I blinked as the car drove off and thanked Dane for his help.
As I watched him walk away, the wind tugged at the edges of his suit jacket and lifted his tie, which he caught and held down with one hand. Tilting my head, I admired the view. He sure hadn’t been this cute in grade school.
Diners, Dives & Dead Ends Page 3