Diner Knock Out (A Rose Strickland Mystery Book 4)

by Terri L. Austin

  We stood in comfortable silence for a few moments. Then she sneaked a peek at me. “You think of me as family? Like, for real?” Threads of disbelief and hope wove together, making her sound very young.

  “Yeah. I told Jacks about Sullivan, and now she’s not talking to me. You’re my sister as much as she is. Maybe more, because we chose each other. These last few weeks without you have been awful.”

  She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “See, you say that crap and make me all emotional.” I handed her a paper towel and she blew her nose. “I feel the same, you know, about the sister thing.”

  “I had a big fight with Sullivan this week too. He blames me for not taking our relationship public. But he didn’t give me a key. How am I supposed to take that?”

  “Oh God, here we go again. Are you still babbling on about that key? Why don’t you just ask him for one?”

  “It’s the principle,” I snapped. “He keeps stuff from me all the time.”

  “You keep stuff from him too.”

  Rubbing the center of my forehead, I closed my eyes. “He’s a criminal. He’s secretive. And I’m crazy about him. Why couldn’t I have picked a nice, average guy to fall for?” My eyes popped open when Roxy busted out laughing. “What’s so damn funny?”

  “You are,” she said, once she sobered enough to talk. “Nice? Average? You’d be bored in thirty seconds. Rose, look at your life. You chose me as a best friend.” She swept a hand over her purple satin heart-shaped bodice. “Axton is a sweetheart, but he’s a goof. And Ma? She’s a straight-up looney toon. Like you said, you picked us. All of us, and we’re weirdoes, especially you.”

  “No, I’m the normal one.”

  “You’re the biggest nut in the cluster. You’re shocked that you fell for an illegal kingpin? You love sniffing out clues. Sullivan has a murky past. I’d say you’re a perfect match.”

  When she put it like that, I got a glimmer into myself that I didn’t have before. The details of Sullivan’s life, his past, were shrouded in mystery. There was nothing I loved more than solving a mystery. “Oh God. I’m kind of a freak.”

  “You’re a complete freak, which is why we get along so well.”

  Roxy and I stared at each other and grinned. In that moment, I knew we were back. “Move it.” I shooed her away from the door. “We need to get to work.”

  “So we’re good?” she asked.

  “We’re good.”

  The morning was a slow one. I brought Henry the Lumberjack Special that had a little bit of everything in it. He ate it all and asked for seconds.

  Ma never came into the diner, and I wondered how things were going with her love rival, That Sally Dawkins. The person I felt sorry for was Byron Metzer. The poor old man probably didn’t have a clue all the ladies were fighting over him like the last pair of size eight Miu Miu shoes on the discount rack.

  Half an hour before closing, I got a call on my cell. I plucked it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. Kai Adams.

  “Rox? Can you take my customers?”

  Henry watched me closely, but I waved him off and hurried down the short hallway to the office-turned-supply closet. “Hey, Kai.”

  “Rose, Rob’s dead. Sofia called. She said she stopped by to see you yesterday.”

  I closed my eyes and mentally kicked my ass. I should have called him immediately, but with everything else going on, it slipped my mind. Which made me a very thoughtless person.

  “I’m so sorry. I should have called you.” I could have offered excuses, valid reasons why I hadn’t contacted him, but really, no excuse was good enough. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No.” His voice became thick with emotion. “I probably should have gone straight to the police and insisted they look for him.”

  “Kai, there’s nothing you could have done to change the outcome. I promise you. The police wouldn’t have looked for him, no matter how hard you pushed. Please believe that.”

  He cleared his throat. “The cops suspect suicide. Evidently he took a bunch of pills. I still can’t believe it, but you were right. He was using, and I never suspected a damned thing. The police told Sofia steroids can trigger deep depression. Maybe after she left him, things seemed hopeless.”

  “I don’t believe Rob committed suicide.”

  “Whether it was intentional or not, Rose, he took his own life. I’m still racking my brain, searching for signs. But Rob was always so confident about turning pro. I believed him.”

  “Listen to me, Kai. I found Buster Madison’s body last night. He was murdered.” His swift intake of breath told me he hadn’t heard the news. “I think whoever killed Buster also killed Rob. Can you think of any reason why someone would want both of them dead?”

  “God, no. But I didn’t know Buster personally. Some of the guys in my Muay Thai class work out at the gym, though. Do you want to talk to them?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “I have a class tonight. Starts at six and goes to seven thirty. Why don’t you get here around seven fifteen? Afterward, you can question the guys about Buster. They all knew Rob too. Maybe you can find out who did this. I don’t know whether I’m relieved that Rob didn’t kill himself or not. Thinking he was murdered—it’s almost too awful to accept.”

  I didn’t know what to say to him. No words would take away the pain of losing his friend to a death. The only thing I could do was find the killer. “I’ll be there at seven fifteen. Thanks, Kai.”

  Before heading back to the dining room, I called Sullivan.

  “Is everything all right? Is Henry with you?”

  “Yes and yes. I have a question about Buster. He was on your payroll, right? You and the other three Horsemen?”

  “We paid him equally and very well. Although I’m not sure how Sanders managed these past few months.”

  “If you paid him so well, why is his house in foreclosure?”

  “How do you know this?”

  “You mean I know something you don’t? Has the world stopped turning on its axis?”

  “Now’s not the time to gloat.”

  Point taken. “When I was in his office, he spilled some papers on the floor. One of them was a foreclosure notice.”

  He said nothing for a few beats. Then, “You’re staying with me tonight?” At least it was a question and not a demand.

  “Yeah. Only for a few days.” I wanted to be clear from the start.

  “Good.” My phone went dead. Why couldn’t he say goodbye like a normal person?

  I’d just walked back into the main dining room when my phone rang again. Roxy gave me a look, and I turned and headed back to the office. It was Andre.

  “Miss Strickland.” Always so formal. “How are you doing? Last night was very difficult.”

  That was one way of putting it. “I’m all right. Did you find any info on Dr. Ethan Cadewell?”

  “Nothing stood out. Are you coming in today?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I won’t be here. I’m following Mr. Benson, and it’s his day off. I left something for you in my office.”

  “A pink slip?” I joked.

  “Don’t tempt me. Goodbye.” See? Even Hardass could say it.

  Now curiosity gnawed at me, like a dog with a juicy bone. What had Andre left for me? Something to do with the case? Hopefully it wasn’t a pile of background checks needing immediate attention.

  I went back to work. After our last customers left, I bussed tables, and Roxy wiped down the counter. Henry finished his umpteenth cup of black coffee.

  Since we’d had a light turnout this morning, it didn’t take long to restore order. As I was about to gather my things, Axton walked into the diner, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his wallet chain bouncing against his thigh. He waved at me,
then nodded to Henry. “How’s it shaking, my man?”

  Henry raised his cup. “Right and tight.”

  I stacked the four remaining donuts on a plate and slid it in front of Ax. “I didn’t expect to see you. Roxy just finished cleaning the coffeepot, but I could make you a fresh cup.”

  He squatted on a stool and hefted his bag on the counter next to him. “No, I’m cool.”

  “How’s the secretary wooing? Any success?”

  His neck turned red. “Yeah, kinda. She’s, like, amazing. I thought I was going to be way too geeky for her, but we actually have stuff in common. Turns out she’s a huge Doctor Who fan, she loves Tolkien, and she told me I’m cute.”

  I reached out and pinched his scruffy cheek. “You’re adorbs.”

  He batted at my hand with his cinnamon sugar-coated fingers. “Stop.”

  “She sounds perfect, Ax.”

  “Not perfect, but close. She has one big flaw—she thinks George Lucas is overrated. Can you believe? Anyway, we had lunch together at my desk.”

  Seeing Ax so happy made me smile. “Maybe you can work through your Lucas differences. Hey,” I slapped his arm, “I thought you were swamped this week. What are you doing here?”

  He took a bite of powdered donut and glanced up at me. “Ma wanted to see me. Said it was really important. We’ve been taking staggered breaks, and it was my turn to get out of the office.”

  Roxy stepped through the connecting door and grinned when she saw him. “Hey, Axman.” She grabbed her poodle purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder. “Rose, be careful today.” She glanced over at Henry. “Hey, mutant. If you don’t take care of her, I’ll kick your ass.”

  “You’ll have to get in line, shorty,” he rumbled.

  “I’ll see you tonight, Rose?” she asked. “Ten o’clock?”

  “What’s at ten?” Ax brushed the crumbs from his beard.

  Roxy thrust her hand into her purse. “Sugar’s having a show at Ruby’s Roadhouse. Here are the tickets.” She placed four on the counter.

  Right. The burlesque thing. “Yep, I’ll be there.”

  Once she left, I turned my attention to Ax. “What did Ma want? She hasn’t been in all morning.”

  “Something about a dating profile.”

  Oh, boy. “Want me to call her?”

  “No, I’ll hang around. She’ll show up eventually.” Leaning forward, he slid his gaze to the left. “Why is Henry here?”

  “Sullivan insisted. I found a dead body last night.”

  “Again? Dude. Are you all right?”

  No. Sort of. Not really. “I’m okay.” No sense in worrying him. “And I’ve got Henry to protect me, so I’ll be fine.”

  “Listen, if you’re in trouble, call me. New servers be damned. I’m there for you, Rosie.” That was my Ax. He shoved the ticket to Sugar’s performance across the counter. “Too bad I can’t make it. I’ll be pulling another late shift.”

  As I stuck it in my purse, a brilliant idea sparked my synapses. I could call Candi Carlucci, see if she wanted to go to Sugar’s show. That way, I could quiz her in a casual setting. I wondered if she knew about Buster’s demise.

  Before changing clothes, I dialed her number. She answered on the third ring.

  “Yeah? Who’s this?”

  Interesting greeting. “Hi, Candi. This is Rose Strickland. We met last night. I was wondering how you were?”

  “Oh, hi. I stayed up late, rereading all of Rob’s texts. I just can’t believe he’s gone.” I heard the pain in her voice. Rob really meant something to her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  “Listen, I know it’s short notice, but maybe getting out of the house would do you some good. A friend of mine is performing at Ruby’s Roadhouse. There’s a burlesque revue tonig—”

  “I’m totally down with that. I need to get out of here and be around people. What time?”

  “It starts at ten.”

  “Pick me up at nine. We can synchronize our outfits and make sure we coordinate.” Remembering her lime green peek-a-boo dress, I was almost certain that Candi and I would never coordinate. “Should I go full-on skank or classy slut?” she asked.

  “Is there a difference?” I’d never been to a burlesque show, but I doubted anyone would notice what Candi wore. All eyes would be zeroed in on Sugar de la Tarte and her twirling tassels. “I’m sure whatever you wear, you’ll look fab.”

  “You’re a sweetie, Rose. You know my addy, right?” She rattled it off, but I already knew how to get to the Carlucci estate, having driven by and seen the security cameras for myself. “See ya.”

  I shoved my phone in my purse, and after changing clothes, I emerged from the office and signaled to Henry it was time to go. “Call you later, Ax. And don’t let Ma do anything too crazy.”

  With a full mouth he nodded and gave me the thumbs up sign.

  I walked back through the kitchen, told the boys goodbye, and Henry and I headed off to job number two.

  “What are we doing for lunch?” he asked. “Should I stop somewhere?”

  “You ate two breakfasts. Besides, we don’t have time to stop.” I was too anxious to get to the office and see what Andre had left for me.

  With only a few grumbles, Henry chauffeured me across town. On the drive, something kept haunting me: that bag full of drugs hidden in Rob’s recovery powder. Though it was low on my list of unanswered questions, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. If Rob didn’t use drugs, where did he get them? Why did he have them? What did he plan on doing with them?

  Once we reached the office, I had Henry park around the side of the building. My car was sitting in the lot. Andre must have retrieved it for me, which was really thoughtful. Oh God, I was growing fond of Hardass. Who’d have thunk?

  Unsnapping my seatbelt, I glanced at Henry. “This is where you and I part ways, Jeeves.”

  “Forget it. Sullivan said I had to stick close.”

  I pointed to the door. “I’ll be right inside that building. When I leave, you can follow.”

  He was out of the car before I could finish the sentence. Must be a real thrill, watching me serve coffee all morning. I hoped Sullivan was paying him double for hazard duty.

  Inside the building, I unlocked the door and pressed the security code. After flipping on the main lights, I whizzed past Henry into Andre’s office. As soon as I saw what Hardass had done, I gasped.

  Chapter 19

  Before me was a thing of true beauty. “Holy cow. Andre made me an evidence wall.”

  Henry plastered himself to my back, but I was too excited to care. Andre had used the big blank wall next to his desk to tape up enlarged driver’s license photos of our suspects, our victims, and several different colors of yarn crisscrossing back and forth, like a psychedelic spider web.

  Henry pushed my shoulder blade. “Move, would you?”

  I approached the wall with reverence. This must have taken Andre hours to complete. On index cards tacked beneath each photo, his neat handwriting stated names, alibis, and motives.

  I dropped my purse on the desk and yanked out my phone to call him. “This is awesome,” I said when he answered.

  He cleared his throat, like he was embarrassed. “It’s all about organization. There are more index cards and yarn in the top drawer if you need them. Gotta go. Mr. Benson is on the move.”

  I turned to see Henry standing behind me with a weird look on his face. “What?”

  “You get excited about the strangest shit, Rose.”

  Yep, it was official. I was the biggest nut in the cluster.

  “Okay, H., let’s get started.” I opened my notebook. “I’ll methodically examine each suspect. I’ll give you my theories, and you try to prove me wrong.”

  He pocketed his phone,
sighing. “If I have to.”

  “First, we have Sofia.” I followed her red string to Rob. “She had motive—Rob Huggins drove her batshit and wasn’t financially taking care of his kid, but she loved him.”

  “That’s your motive right there,” Henry said. “Love can turn to hate real quick.”

  “Not this time. First of all, she wouldn’t have made it look like a suicide. She has a restless baby and a full-time job. Her brains are too scrambled to be that calculated.” I pointed at a photo of Buster, but there was no yarn linking the two. “And see? No motive to kill Buster.”

  Henry shrugged out of his jacket, revealing his gun. “You’re assuming the two murders are connected.”

  “What makes you think they’re not?”

  “Just playing devil’s advocate here.”

  I tapped my notebook against my chin. “Rob’s death was a setup.”

  “Not necessarily. He could have really offed himself.”

  “He didn’t use pills. Didn’t drink. And he owned a gun. Why kill yourself in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of pills—which I’ll admit, he had access to—knowing your body might not be found for days? Worrying your fiancée who’s already stressed with money problems and single parenthood?”

  Henry crossed his arms. “Because people who commit suicide aren’t thinking about anybody but themselves. They’re selfish. Who cares if someone finds the body? It’s all about their pain.” His gravelly voice became harsh, unyielding. Was he speaking from personal experience? I wanted to ask, but knew he’d shut me down. Why waste my breath?

  “Back to Buster,” I said. “He wanted to tell me something about the club, but he was killed in a very slapdash manner. Rob’s death was planned. Buster’s was on the fly. Which says my killer was rattled.”

  “Unless you have two killers.”

  Fine. It was a possibility. But I didn’t buy it. These murders were connected somehow. I just needed to prove it.

  I crossed through Sofia’s name in my notebook. She was devastated over Rob’s death.

  “Moving on.” I tapped a picture of Sofia’s brother, Franco. “Franco hated Rob, thought Sofia could do better. A couple of weeks before Rob disappeared, Franco stomped into the gym and picked a fight with Rob. Rob didn’t retaliate, which showed a great amount of restraint on his part.”