Standing in the middle of the street, Dane turned around. “Hey, be careful. You don’t know what kind of trouble Axton’s in and I don’t want you to wind up missing, too.”
Chapter 6
My phone was beeping when I got back to my apartment. I dropped my purse and yanked the phone from its charger, hoping it was a message from Axton. It wasn’t. It was from my ex-boyfriend, Kevin.
Punching the delete button, I put Kevin from my mind and tried to work up the courage for what I had to do next. I reminded myself I was doing this for Axton.
I took a deep breath and dialed the number.
“Hey, Mom,” I said when she answered.
“Rosalyn? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Something truly catastrophic must have happened. Why else would you be calling?”
I went on cheerfully as if she hadn’t said anything at all. I found this was the best way to deal with her — really the only way that didn’t involve heavy meds or jail time. “Do you happen to have Packard Graystone’s phone number? You know, Axton’s brother?”
She clicked her teeth. “Yes, Rosalyn, I know who Dr. Graystone is. Why on earth would you need his phone number?”
I rolled my eyes and held back a sigh. Nothing was ever easy. “Axton’s gone missing and I was wondering if Packard had heard from him. I just want to be sure Ax is all right. Oh, and I need his mom’s number, too.”
“I don’t know if I feel comfortable with this, Rosalyn. You might worry them unnecessarily. He’s probably out getting high.” She whispered the last two words.
“Fine, Mom, just forget it.”
“All right, Rosalyn, calm down. There’s no need to get upset.”
“Do you have their numbers or not?”
“I don’t know. It may take some work to get them.”
She waited two beats for me to tell her how grateful I was. I left her waiting.
“Be here for dinner tomorrow, eight sharp. I may have them by then.” And she hung up on me.
Well played, Mom. Well played.
The campus of Huntingford City College covered three acres of land. There were a total of six trees, the leaves of which had started turning red and gold at the tips, and one gently rolling hill amidst its four squat buildings.
I won’t bore you with the specifics of my ethics test. I was bored enough for all of us. As soon as class let out and I cleared the door, I called Axton’s home number. The minutes on my phone were racking up and my bank account was not going to be happy.
“Speak,” Joe answered, followed by a wheezy laugh.
“Joe, it’s Rose. Have you—”
“Rosalita. Hey man, didn’t I see you the other day?”
“No, Joe, it was this afternoon. Have you heard from Axton? Or the man in the suit? Did he come back?”
“Negative, Rosary.” He wheeze-laughed again and hung up.
The wind picked up to a gust and the temperature dipped as I walked past the lighted parking lot toward my car, which was parked on the street. I had just thrust my hands into my jacket pockets when a hand grabbed my arm and jerked me backward. I yelped and struggled to pull away. Fear flooded my system. The yelp became a scream. I spun around, finally yanking my arm out of my assailant’s grip.
Two good Samaritans hollered from across the lot, a thin African-American guy with a backpack in one hand, a cell phone in the other, and a woman in her forties wearing a baggy sweater over a broomstick skirt. They sprinted toward me, but my attacker didn’t flee. He just stood there, his hands raised in surrender.
“Are you okay, hon?” The woman’s gaze shifted between me and my assailant.
“This man came out of nowhere and grabbed me.” I got a good look at him for the first time. A little over six feet with attractive bland features and clunky black glasses. He wore a white button-down and khakis.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you’re Axton’s friend, right?”
I glared at him. “I don’t know you.”
“We’ve never met. I just started working with Axton in the IT department. I’ve seen a picture of you on his desk. I’m Steve, by the way. Steve Gunderson.” He held out his hand. I didn’t shake it.
I stood on the sidewalk, my heart still pounding, my body still shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline. “What the hell were you thinking? You don’t accost people in a dark parking lot. Especially women you don’t know.”
The guy with the cell phone finally spoke. “Are we good here or what?”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I think there was a misunderstanding.”
“I’m so sorry,” Steve said to me. He turned to the man and woman who’d come to my rescue. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have touched her like that. I just wasn’t thinking.”
The woman jabbed her finger at him. “You don’t grab women, period. It’s not cool.”
Steve nodded. “You’re right. Will never happen again, I swear.”
“Thank you both,” I said.
The man mumbled something as he walked off and the woman gave Steve one last dirty look before leaving.
I turned to him. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t know your name.”
I was still irritated, but told him anyway. “It’s Rose.”
He wrapped both hands around the strap of his messenger bag. “I’d been working late and was ready to go home when I saw you. What’s the deal with Ax? Eric’s pissed that he didn’t come in today. We had a real problem with the servers being down and had to reroute through a proxy server which filtered stuff out.”
“I’m sorry?” I had no idea what he was talking about. My lack of understanding — and interest — must have shown on my face.
“I’m boring you, aren’t I? Yeah, my girlfriend never wanted to hear shop talk, either. Well, my ex-girlfriend, really. We just broke up.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said after an awkward pause.
“Thanks.” He stared at me for a moment. “You know, you don’t really seem like Axton’s type.” I think he realized he might have insulted me, or Axton, or the both of us, so he tried to backtrack. “What I mean is—”
I held up my hand to stop him. “I’m not Axton’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, I thought…I mean he has a picture of the two of you on his desk, so I just assumed…”
“Axton’s my friend.” I felt a mixture of sadness and guilt as I said it. I hadn’t pressed him about the backpack. I should have insisted he tell me the details about the club. I knew he’d been acting unAxton-like in the diner, but I’d let it slide.
A blast of wind whipped my hair skyward. “Wow, it’s getting cold out here.” I rubbed my hands along my arms.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. Can I walk you to your car?”
“Yeah, thanks.” We walked toward the street in front of the campus. “Hey, Axton went to a club the other night. Do you know anything about that?”
“No.”
“Did you notice him acting weird yesterday? Nervous?”
“No.”
I went through my spiel — backpack, mystery man, yada yada. Maybe I should record this little speech because repeating it was getting old.
“I can’t get into his computer,” I said. “Do you think you could?”
“Yeah, probably.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But are you sure he didn’t just leave for a few days?”
While Ax had taken off a time or two in the past, he’d always called to let me know where he was and when he was coming home, and he’d always taken his backpack. “I’m sure. Do you want to meet up tomorrow and take a crack at Axton’s computer?”
“Like for dinner, or something?” He smiled. “I know this Italian place, they make an authentic osso buco—”
“How about I bring it by after I get off work?”
Steve’s smile lost a few watts. “Sure. You know where the IT office is, right?”
“Basement
of Blake Hall. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As I drove home, I kept checking my rearview mirror to make sure no one followed me. Yep, definitely becoming paranoid.
Feeling drained and more concerned about Axton by the minute, I slogged up the stairs to my apartment, sifting the keys in my hand to find the right one. But before I could slide it into the lock, a mountain of a man opened my front door. He loomed above me, his dark hair slicked back from his face. His crooked nose had been broken in at least three places and a long jagged scar ran close to his left eye.
He said nothing, but a deep voice from inside my apartment said, “Come in, Rosalyn.”
Chapter 7
It was the voice. The one belonging to the mystery man from the woods.
I gulped and stood there, too scared to move forward, too shocked to turn around and run. The man at the door snatched my arm and pulled me into the apartment, slamming the door behind me. He plucked the keys from my hand and tossed them on the bistro table.
I sidled to the left, with my back against the wall. I kept him in my peripheral view while I studied the man standing in the middle of my apartment. He was the exact opposite of Scarface. His blue-black hair was combed away from his perfect face. His gold eyes — not golden-brown, just gold — glittered in the faint glow of my yard sale flamingo lamp. With light honeyed skin stretched over strong cheekbones, he was beautiful — like fallen angel beautiful. He wore a dark suit and overcoat. He scared me a lot more than the other guy. It was obvious he was in charge and Scarface was just there for back up.
I didn’t know what he wanted or if he planned on hurting me, but I made up my mind then and there that I wouldn’t go down without a fight. And I wouldn’t let him see how afraid I was either. But between you and me, I think I wet my pants just a little.
“Hello, Rosalyn. Oh wait, you like to be called Rose. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the futon.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll stand, you know, since it’s my apartment and all.”
I felt a massive paw on my shoulder. “Sit,” Scarface said. His voice sounded like crunching gravel.
I twisted out of his grasp and my backpack slid to the floor. I side-stepped away from him, bumping my hip into the closet doorknob. Since I was scared shitless, the pain barely registered.
The boss waved two fingers and shook his head. “Let’s be civil, Henry. Why don’t you wait in the car?”
As soon as Scarface Henry left, the mystery man began prowling around my apartment. He slid his fingertips across the bistro table and snagged my keys, twirling them around one finger. Then he paused and looked at the red rose keychain Axton had given me as a joke. “Original.” He dropped them back on the table.
Crossing my arms to hide my shaking hands, I glared at him. “What do you want?” I kept hold of my bravado, but my knees were knocking so hard I thought I might topple over.
He walked to the kitchenette and looked at the paper hanging on my refrigerator. Scotty had colored a picture of me — my head was ten times the size of my stick body. The mystery man tapped the drawing. “I can see the resemblance.” Then he strolled to the cluster of cheap frames arranged on top of my dresser. He picked up the picture of Roxy and me. We had our arms thrown around each other and were making smootchie faces at the camera. He put it down and moved to the next photo. The one of Scotty when he was about ten minutes old. I rushed toward him and tried to grab it, but he held it just out of reach.
“Put it down.” I grabbed the soft woolen sleeve of his overcoat and pulled, but he didn’t move. I peered up at his face, and he stared back at me. Our gazes locked and held for a moment.
He leaned toward me. He smelled citrusy and spicy at the same time, like oranges and sandalwood. “I want my property.” His voice was silky steel.
I let go of his arm and stepped back. “I…,” my voice cracked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play games, Rose.” He set the photo down and walked to the futon, gracefully folding himself onto it, his arm spread along the back. “You’ll lose.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeated, my voice stronger this time.
He looked at me like he was waiting for something. Eventually, he nodded. “Let’s pretend that’s true, and for your sake, I hope it is.” His gaze flickered from my face to my breasts and back up to my eyes. The whole process took less than a second, but I had the feeling he’d categorized and labeled me in that brief instant.
“Why don’t you just ask Axton where the hell your property is?”
He didn’t move a muscle, but I noticed a shift in him. His eyes seemed sharper and tension ran through his body.
I hadn’t realized until that moment I’d been holding my breath. Air whooshed out of my lungs as relief and hope shot through me. “You don’t know where Axton is, do you?”
“Why don’t you stick to serving pancakes and focus on your classes. A C-minus in accounting? Tsk, tsk.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.
Hearing him casually discuss the details of my life made me almost dizzy. I stood straight and lifted my chin. “You seem to know a lot about me. In the interest of fairness, why don’t you tell me about yourself? Like, who the hell are you?”
“I’m not interested in fairness. And your interference could be detrimental to Axton’s health.”
I took a step toward him, my fists clenched. “If you harm one wiry hair on his head—”
“You’ll what, sling hash at me? If I wanted to hurt your friend, you’d never find the body.” Then he laughed.
Anger rose up deep inside me, crowding out the fear. This smug asshole broke into my home, threatened Axton, and was sitting on my own damn futon laughing at me. I saw red.
I leapt on him, lashing out with both hands and popped him one in the mouth. All of the frustration, anger, and fear I’d bottled up since Axton’s phone call bubbled to the surface. “You’d better not hurt Axton, do you understand me?”
He calmly pinned my hands and held them behind my back, pulling me forward until my breasts smashed against his chest.
I tried to pull away, but he held fast. “Let go of me.”
His eyes darkened to an antique gold. “Only if you promise to behave yourself.”
I didn’t want to behave myself. I wanted to pound my fist into his face a few more times. I leaned my head back, then drove it forward, trying to head butt him in the nose. But he saw it coming and jerked his head to the side at the last second. My forehead grazed his ear.
“That’s enough,” he said.
I struggled to free myself. With both of my hands restrained in one of his, he thrust his other hand into my hair, firmly holding my head still.
“I said enough.”
My breaths came in choppy gasps, my heart beating so fast I thought it might burst. I stopped moving. My body was plastered against his, each shallow breath pushing my breasts even further into his chest with every inhalation. His lips were soft against my cheek, his breath fanned my ear. We stayed like that, pressed against each other, for what seemed like a really long time. It was probably only a minute, but it was intense and awkward.
“Are you okay now?” he asked.
“Yeah.” He slowly released me. I scrambled off him and walked backward until I hit the wall. Neither one of us spoke, we just stared at each other. His chest heaved like he’d run a four-minute mile. I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one affected by that little exchange. Gradually, my own breathing returned to normal.
When I thought I could talk without panting like a dog, I said, “What’s to stop me from calling the cops?”
“That wouldn’t be in Axton’s best interest.” He stood and buttoned his coat as he walked toward me, coming to a stop when his toes bumped mine. “And I’m not a man you want to fuck with.”
After he left, I stood there for several seconds before hurrying to the door, locking it and sliding the chain in place. Tomorrow I was going to get new
locks. I doubted it would keep him out if he wanted to get in, but it would make me feel better. I moved my dresser in front of the door and huddled up in the corner of the futon, fully clothed, until the next morning.
Chapter 8
I took the quickest shower of my life just before five a.m. The two men probably wouldn’t come back and catch me wet and naked, but why take chances. After throwing on some clothes, I made a full pot of coffee, guzzling down most of it.
It was still halfway dark when I left my apartment and crossed the parking lot. Jumpy and alert, I scanned the area, but didn’t see anything out of place. Of course I hadn’t seen anything out of place last night either and look how well that turned out. I hopped into my car and slammed the door, making sure it was locked before I started the engine.
There weren’t many cars on the road this early, but my eyes darted around the gloomy streets looking for anything suspicious. By the time I got to Ma’s I was a shaky mess.
I greeted Ray and Jorge as I walked through the kitchen before making a beeline to the restroom. Ma and Roxy exchanged a glance as I hustled past. When I stepped back into the dining room, I pulled a clean apron from the hook and put it in on.
“Rose, honey, are you all right?” Ma asked.
I gave them a recap of my crappy night. They both made “o’s” with their mouths.
“And the thing is, this guy who broke into my apartment didn’t say what he’s looking for. But I have to find Axton before he does.” I realized I was talking so fast my words jumbled together, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. And I flailed my hands like a loon. “Whoever he was, he was scary. Hot, but scary. No, forget hot. Hot has nothing to do with it. Just scary.” I finally paused to take a deep breath. “Sorry. I drank almost a whole pot of coffee.”
“No, really?” Roxy asked, around a wad of gum. “Why didn’t you call me?”
To be honest, it never occurred to me. I was so used to handling things on my own, I never thought of calling anyone for help. Besides, what if the two men were watching my apartment? I didn’t want Roxy in their crosshairs, too.
Diners, Dives & Dead Ends Page 4