Diner Knock Out (A Rose Strickland Mystery Book 4) (7 page)

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Authors: Terri L. Austin

Tags: #british cozy mysteries, #mystery books, #detective novels, #amateur sleuth, #women's fiction, #murder mystery series, #cozy mystery, #murder mysteries, #english mysteries, #contemporary women, #female protagonist, #women sleuths, #female sleuths, #murder mystery books

BOOK: Diner Knock Out (A Rose Strickland Mystery Book 4)
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Chapter 7

  

It was after five when I dropped the girls off at the diner. Roxy honked as she sped out, but I sat in the parking lot and called Kai Adams. I wanted to get his take on the drugs I’d found at Rob’s condo. Maybe he could give a concrete answer about why Franco confronted Rob at the gym.

When he told me he was still at the dojo catching up on paperwork, I shot up Apple Tree Boulevard, arriving at Kai’s studio ten minutes later.

The dojo took up an entire strip mall. I knocked on the locked glass door and waited. A minute later, Kai appeared and let me into the large waiting room. Two dozen chairs filled the space, along with a glass coffee table and an enormous Buddha in one corner.

“Come on in, Rose. Do you have any leads on Rob?”

“Not yet. But I’ve spoken to Sofia, and I stopped by Buster Madison’s gym today.” He locked the door behind me and walked down a long hallway, past locker rooms and closed doors. “Are these your classrooms?”

“Yeah.” He stopped at one, opened the door. Though the large rectangular area lacked windows, the wall-sized mirror helped reflect the light. “I have ten of these. Some are used as practice rooms. Come to my office and we’ll talk.” He crisscrossed through the building, leading me to the far corner. His office was a hodgepodge of cardboard boxes and various pieces of equipment. He moved an armful of fingerless gloves off the visitor’s chair so I could sit down.

Once he settled behind his desk, he studied me. “If you haven’t found any leads on Rob, what’s up?”

Straight to the point. I liked that in a client. “Do you know about Rob’s drug habit?”

“You mean the steroids? Sure. You can’t bulk up that much without them. I don’t like it, but it’s Rob’s body, his choice.”

“Is it a new thing with him or has he been taking them for some time?”

He paused and cast his eyes to a poster of Bruce Lee tacked on the wall. “I started noticing over a year ago. That’s when he really blew up. Got stretch marks and everything. Why, do you think it has something to do with his disappearance?”

I ignored his question. At this point, anything could be pertinent. “What about the pain pills?”

His brows slammed together. “Pain pills? What kind?”

“The serious kind. A lot of them.”

“I’ve
never
seen Rob acting high. He’s always in complete control of himself. He doesn’t even take a Tylenol when he has a headache.”

Sofia said the same thing. Rob wouldn’t swallow an over-the-counter pain pill, yet he had no problem injecting synthetic hormones into his body. Maybe Rob was selling the drugs, not using.

If that was the case, I’d love to get a list of his clients and find out the name of his supplier. Although why would he sell drugs when he was such a freak about not taking them? Still, I didn’t rule it out. People did all sorts of strange things for money.

“Any idea where he scored all those steroids?” I asked.

“No.” Kai blew out a pent-up breath. “But to be honest, they’re not hard to get. He probably had a source at the gym. I’ve known high school kids who take them. How did you find out about the pain pills?”

Again, I refrained from answering. “How well do you know Sofia’s brother, Franco?”

He blinked at the change in topic. “I’ve never met the kid, but I know he doesn’t like Rob. Thinks Rob should get a real job and support his family.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “I really can’t believe he’s using pain meds. The steroids were bad enough. The guy’s going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t stop.”

I tapped my chin in thought and then asked, “What’s the deal between Rob and Buster Madison? Do you know what they argued about?”

Again, it seemed I’d thrown him for a loop. Leaning back in his chair, Kai huffed out a little laugh. “It seems you know more about my friend than I do. Drugs, arguments, family disagreements.” His eyes grew sad. “And here I thought we were pals.”

“Where does Rob spend his off hours? Is there a bar or a club he likes to frequent?”

“No. He doesn’t have much downtime. Training takes total commitment. At least that’s what I’ve always thought. But he could be living a secret double life, and I guess I wouldn’t know. Sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. “Thanks, Kai. Don’t get too worked up about Rob’s lack of disclosure. People don’t like to share their dirty little secrets. Especially with friends. He was probably afraid of disappointing you.”

He rose to his feet, shoved both hands into his jeans pockets. “I wouldn’t judge him. He should know that by now. You come in here asking all these questions, I feel like you’re talking about a stranger and not the guy I’ve known for the last four years.”

I hoped my smile was reassuring, but I feared that nothing I said or did could make up for the bombs I’d dropped on Kai today. I sympathized with him. I had someone in my life who kept a lot of secrets. When it came to his past, Sullivan was as silent as a baseball stadium in the middle of December.

Kai ushered me back through the dojo and opened the front door. “Thanks for stopping by. If you hear anything, let me know.”

“Of course.” I stepped outside into the damp heat and climbed into an even hotter car.

I rolled down the window, and while waiting for the air to kick in, called Ax. “So how’d it go? You didn’t give in and buy the orange pants, did you?”

“No way. I now have three new pairs of stylin’ jeans that cost more than your car is worth. And I remember why I never shop. It’s exhausting, man.”

“Good luck on Monday. I’ll be thinking of you.” I hung up and called Sullivan next.

“Rose.”

Hellos and goodbyes were too mundane for him. “What are you doing tonight? Want to meet up at my place? Have some dinner?”

“I’d love to, but I have a business matter that’s come up.”

Disappointed, I propped my elbow on the edge of the door and immediately regretted it. “Ow!” The metal strip burned my arm.

“You all right?”

“Super. Hey, I’m working on this case—”

I heard deep voices speaking in the background. “I have to go, Rose. I’ll call you later.”

Terrific. I’d plowed through my entire list of to-do items and was at a loss. Roxy was busy. Ax had exerted all of his energy at the mall. I was on my own.

So I put the car in gear and went to check out Chez Carlucci. If nothing else, I could get the lay of the land.

  

In northeast Huntingford, where properties came with acreage, I had to wind my way through curvy country roads to find Will Carlucci’s estate. Surrounded by a tall spiked fence and a dense grouping of trees, I didn’t even catch a glimpse of the house itself. The gates were overly fussy, with wrought-iron swirls and gold leaf initials
WC
. My mother would have shuddered at the ostentation. Visible cameras had been mounted on the trees and along the fence. They followed me as I puttered up the street, stopping long enough to get a gander at the setup.

Though I hated to admit it, I couldn’t get through those gates on my own. I needed to get ahold of Sullivan, find out what he knew about Will Carlucci. If not, I’d be forced to ask my mother. I did have a family dinner tomorrow night. It would be the perfect time to talk to her. But first, I’d have to eat a big piece of humble pie—my least favorite flavor.

Giving up on Carlucci for the night, I stopped by the Burger Barn on my way home. Standing at the sink in my kitchenette, I snarfed up a fat-laden burger and monster tots, then, properly sated, fired up ye olde laptop. I wanted to Google Jimmy Duncan, the fighter who’d been talking with Sugar this afternoon, the one with a pair of lips tattooed on his ass.

According to his social media sites, Jimmy worked for Sanders and Associates. And he had a penchant for taking shirtless selfies. I glossed over the selfies and did a search on his employer.

Sanders and Associates was a local land development company. Wyatt Sanders was the head of an ecofriendly firm and a millionaire to boot. His latest project, a holistic hotel and spa located on the outskirts of Huntingford, promised to use the latest green technology.

My spidey sense started to tingle. Could Wyatt Sanders be a part of the fight club? After all, Will Carlucci
owned
Rob. This could be the same type of setup. Jimmy didn’t strike me as an overly bright bulb, and he didn’t specify what type of work he did for Sanders and Associates. I wondered if Jimmy was part of Wyatt’s stable. Andre would say I was jumping to conclusions, but my gut told me I was right. Then he’d argue that my gut wasn’t a good investigative tool, but he wasn’t here, therefore, he could suck it. So sad, too bad, Hardass.

I added Wyatt Sanders to the list of people I wanted to interrogate and fell asleep with my notebook tucked under my pillow.

  

Sundays at the diner catered to early bird sinners and afternoon saints. Since the Fourth of July was right around the corner, Ray added a patriotic item to the menu: blueberry-strawberry pancakes topped with whipped cream. For some reason, people loved themed food.

Throughout the morning, Roxy and I caught snatches of time where we could chat. I briefly told her about Wyatt Sanders and she described Sugar’s new routine. Something about floating scarves.

At eleven, right before the church crowd congregated, Andre stiffly walked into the diner. He marched up to the empty table I’d just finished bussing.

“I see you’ve heard about our patriotic pancakes,” I said with a smile.

To be fair, he didn’t usually return my witty banter with a quip of his own, but today he was even more humorless than normal. “I’d like to speak with you.” He glanced around the diner, his sharp gaze raking over the checkerboard floor, the faded wallpaper. “Alone. Now.”

Whew, someone rebooted on the wrong side of the bed this morning. “Sure.”

Roxy cruised over and gave him a wink. “How’re tricks, Officer Thomas?” Her puffy blue and white dress was very
Alice in Wonderland
, complete with a pair of fuzzy white rabbit ears shooting up from her blue hair.

His eyes did a slow glide over her. “Why do you dress like that?”

She nodded at his navy Dockers. “Why do
you
?”

He sighed and turned back to me. “Miss Strickland. Now.” He strode down the hallway to the small office.

Roxy’s brows shot up. “What’s up his butt this morning?”

I had a sinking feeling that bypassed my stomach and slid all the way to the soles of my feet. Somehow, someway, Andre had found out about my missing person case. “Can you cover my tables?”

“Yep. Don’t keep him waiting or he might bust a microchip.”

“Good one.” I shuffled to the office, where Andre stood with his back to me. “What’s up?”

Pivoting, he clenched his jaw so tightly, I was surprised his molars didn’t dissolve into dust. “There’s only one reason I’m not firing you this minute. One.” He held up a finger to prove his point.

I waited him out, crossing my arms and barely tilting my eyebrow, the way Sullivan would.

Andre dropped his hand and we stared at each other. Hell, I could stand there all day. The only person I could never outlast was my boyfriend. The one who
didn’t
give me a house key or take me out in public. Jeez, every time I broke it down, my relationship with Sullivan sounded pathetic.

“Miss Strickland.”

My eyes snapped back to Hardass. “Yes?”

“I know what you did.”

I kept my lip zipped.

“You took a case behind my back.”

Yep, he’d found out, all right.

“Pro bono, I might add.”

I simply nodded.

“And you’ve been telling people we’re partners.” He said “partners” like it was the vilest word in his vocabulary.

“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, I raised my chin and braced myself for the tongue-lashing I deserved. “So why aren’t you firing me?”

He took two menacing steps forward. Behind his glasses, anger glowed in his hazel eyes. On the outside, he wore a mask of irritation, but inside I sensed he was an active volcano. All that hot, pent-up rage flowing beneath the surface, ready to erupt—I knew it was going to land on me.

“I said I wasn’t firing you
this minute.
First, I want to know everywhere you’ve been, every person you’ve talked to. You better not have tarnished my name as you’ve bumbled your way through this so-called investigation.”

His wording raised my hackles. I might not have been a full-fledged detective, but I wasn’t a newbie either.

“I didn’t bumble anything. I’ve uncovered good, solid clues. If you’d quit breathing down my neck, you’d see how effective I can be.”

He took another step forward, until he loomed over me. A white line of anger rimmed his lips and his eyes burned even hotter. “Do. Not. Test. Me.”

For the first time since I’d met him, I was a little afraid of Andre. We’d never been friends; I’d always viewed him as more of an adversary than a boss. But this fierce, irate man was a stranger, an unpredictable one at that.

“You will be at the office as soon as your shift ends. You will account for every move you’ve made. Am I clear?”

My eyes lowered to the buttons on his golf shirt. “Clear.”

After he left and I reentered the dining room, Roxy rushed over to me. “He found out about the case?”

“Yeah. He sure did.”

“How?”

“Good question.”

Roxy patted my shoulder and moved off to seat a family of four that had walked through the door.

I worked the rest of my shift on autopilot, thinking about what I’d say to Andre. There was no doubt I owed him an explanation. And an apology.

Our last customers didn’t leave until one thirty. Once they were out the door, Roxy began clearing the tables. “Rose, you’d better book yourself over to the office and get this thing with Hardass straightened out. I’ll take care of everything here.”

“I appreciate it.” I removed my apron and gathered my bag from beneath the counter.

“Are we still on for the fight club tonight?” she asked.

“Absolutely. I have a family dinner first.”

She winced. “Your day just keeps getting worse.”

“I’ll pick you up around nine fifteen.”

“Sounds good. Rose…” She clanked the dishes together. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I think I need it.”

During the ride over, my stomach knotted up like a pretzel. Despite what he’d said, I was certain Andre was going to shitcan me. While I deserved it, I’d never been fired before, and I wasn’t looking forward to the experience.

I pulled into the lot and with shaking hands tried to call Sullivan. If I couldn’t reach him, I was going to have to resort to asking my mom about Will Carlucci. My day was shitty enough without adding that particular drama. Unfortunately, I got Sullivan’s voicemail again. This time I left a message. “Hey, I need to talk to you. Call me back when you get this, okay? Will Carlucci, the car guy. Do you know him?” I hung up and exited the car, taking a deep breath of hot, humid air. I wasn’t looking forward to this confrontation.

When I walked into the office, Hardass was waiting for me, like a spider biding his time. His arms crossed, Andre watched me with suspicious eyes as I stepped through the door. Then without a word, he moved into his office and sat behind his desk. I followed and plopped down across from him, fidgeting with my keys.

“Stop that,” he snapped. I tossed them in my purse, then folded my hands in my lap. “Give me the facts, Miss Strickland. In order.”

I started at the beginning, when Kai walked into the office. I tried to explain my motives for taking the case, my willingness to prove that I could handle things on my own. I gave him a rundown of all my activities, everyone I’d talked to, and all the clues I’d found—leaving out the part about the fight club tonight. He’d either insist on coming with me or forbid me from attending. Neither of those choices appealed.

Occasionally, Andre stopped and asked me pertinent questions—“Why on earth did you remove the pills from Rob Huggins’ home?”

challenged impressions that I’d formed—“You can’t automatically assume that Sofia is telling you the truth”

and demanded clarification on why I phrased things a certain way—“Perhaps Will Carlucci isn’t paranoid; maybe there’s a reason he has so much security.”

When I finished telling my story and answering all of his questions—almost two grueling hours later—I was drained. I’d been so busy at the diner, I hadn’t had time to eat anything more than half a bagel all day. After unburdening myself, my stomach unknotted and now rumbled in hunger.

I uncrossed my legs and rubbed at my eyes. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner, but I’m not sorry that I took the case. And I’m not giving up. I promised Sofia I’d find Rob.”

“I’ve already found him, Miss Strickland.”

My heart picked up speed. I scooted to the edge of my chair. “Are you serious? Why the hell didn’t you say something before now?”

“You have your secrets, I have mine.”

That was just…petty, and beneath him. I could wave the bullshit flag later. Right now, I was too excited that he’d found Rob. Sofia would be so relieved. “Don’t leave me hanging. Where is he?”

“In the morgue.” He said it as casually as if he were telling me the time of day. Unemotional. Unaffected. “Rob Huggins has been dead for days.”

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