Diners, Dives & Dead Ends (30 page)

They brought in a small
rectangular cherry wood table with two matching chairs.  One of the men handed
me an envelope before he left. 

I ripped it open and read
the note. 

Hope you like this.  If
you don’t, please notify my secretary and she will arrange an exchange.

Dad

This was the most thoughtful
thing my father had ever done for me.  Was this a peace offering?  Did my
mother know about it?

I ran my hand along the
smooth cool wood.  It was the most beautiful thing in my apartment.

I called his cell and left a
message thanking him.  It was easier for both of us this way—no awkward pauses.

Roxy arrived at seven with a
duffle bag in one hand and a black backpack slung over her shoulder.  I could
tell by the goofy grin on her face how excited she was.  I, on the other hand,
had spent the past several hours chewing my nails ragged.

“You ready?” she asked,
chomping her gum fast.

“No.”

“Sure you are.  This’ll be
fun.”  She reached into the duffle bag and pulled out black stocking caps,
sweats, leather gloves, and canvas utility belts.

“Where did you get all this
stuff?”

“Sometimes it’s better not
to ask.”

“You didn’t steal these, did
you?”

She looked at me with wide
blue eyes.  “That would be wrong.”

She was right.  I didn’t
want to know.

We took turns in the
bathroom getting ready.  I looked like a dork with the black sweats and white
tennis shoes.

She frowned at my feet. 
“Don’t you have any black shoes?”

“Everything was destroyed,
remember?”

“Maybe we can rub dirt on
them.”

“I am not rubbing dirt on
them.”

“Fine, okay, whatever.”

Ma arrived just before nine
dressed in polyester black pants and an orange Halloween sweatshirt covered
with bats.  Basically, what she wore every day.

Ma held up two Ziploc bags. 
“I made chocolate chip cookies and more Chex mix.”  She shook the bags and her
bootie at the same time.

We headed off to Eric’s
early.  I guess I was the only one who was nervous.  In fact, I was shivering,
despite having the heater cranked as high as it would go.  Ma and Roxy seemed
to be free from the case of nerves that gripped me, as they talked about the
zombie game they played at Eric’s place.  I tuned them out as I drove and mentally
ran through the plan one more time.

Eric and Steve were waiting
for us with a pile of computer bags by the front door.  We each grabbed a bag
and headed out to Steve’s Explorer.  I helped Ma into the front seat and
slipped into the back, wedged in between Eric and Roxy.

As Eric gave Steve
directions, Ma passed out cookies, and I put my head between my knees so I
wouldn’t pass out.

Eric bent down and whispered
in my ear.  “You’re doing this for Axton.  If I were in trouble, I’d want you
in my corner.”

“Thanks,” I whispered back.

Steve made a sharp turn and
I lurched against Roxy. 

“Sorry,” Steve said.  “Now,
where do I turn once I get off the highway?”

“Take a left,” Eric said.

We pulled onto the side of
the road and into a shallow ditch next to the woods that surrounded Sullivan’s
house.  Or what I hoped was his house.  Eric jumped out of the car and stepped
around to the back.  With Roxy’s help he began unloading equipment.

Steve and Eric opened up
their laptops and plugged in their wireless drives.  Roxy and I stood next to
the car, while Ma sat in the passenger seat with the window rolled down.

The night was cold and I
could see my breath as I danced from one foot to the other, my pulse racing so
fast I thought I might faint.  “Okay, are we even sure this is the right
house?”

“Rose, shut up and stop
hopping around.  You’re starting to make me nervous,” Roxy snapped.

Steve pulled out the
headsets.  Eric helped Roxy while Steve handed me the wire so I could feed it
down the back of my sweatshirt, then he plugged it into the receiver.  He
duct-taped the receiver to my lower back.

“I’ll be here if you need
anything, okay?” he whispered in my ear.

“Okay, but I feel ridiculous.” 
I stepped away from Steve and tugged on the hem of my sweatshirt.

Eric squeezed my arm. 
“Hopefully, Axton is in there.”  He slipped a black backpack over my
shoulders.  There might be evidence I needed to take out of the house. 

I tucked Sparky, my pepper
spray, and a small flashlight into the utility belt, and adjusted the headset. 
Taking a deep breath, I looked at Roxy.  “I’m ready.”

“Follow me,” she said.

We’d seen the path that led
to the house on the aerial map.  We would have to climb a small wooded hill
before reaching the house.

The night was clear.  Stars
seemed brighter out in the country.  The harvest moon hung low in the sky and I
took a deep breath, getting a smoky whiff of someone’s fireplace. 

Old dead leaves crunched
under our feet.  It seemed unnaturally loud.  I fleetingly thought about ticks
and snakes and poison ivy and squelched the urge to run back to the car.

Although the moon was
bright, very little light penetrated the thick forest of trees.  I tried to
keep my eyes on Roxy, but found myself tripping over branches and roots jutting
out of the ground.

Roxy didn’t seem to have
that problem.  She navigated the terrain like an expert on one of those
wilderness shows.  If she started drinking her own urine, I was out of there. 

Finally we reached the edge
of the clearing.  Crouching behind a tree to assess our next move, we faced the
house, which stood about two hundred feet from the woods.  Large and traditional
in style, it was comprised of wood shingles and smooth stones.  The windows on
this side of the house were dark.

Despite the cold night air,
sweat trickled down my back.  Getting through the woods was the easy part.  Now
we had to get into the house.

“Okay,” Roxy whispered,
“we’re going to make a run for it.”  She pointed at the side corner leading to
the back.  “Ready?”

“No—”

She took off and I scrambled
after her as fast as I could.  My left side cramped.  I made a silent vow to
start exercising and tried to control my need to gasp for air.

Roxy must have triggered the
motion-activated security lights on the side of the house because they flashed on
brighter than the sun.  I froze.  My gaze met Roxy’s and since no one came
storming outside with weapons raised, I ran the rest of the way.

Roxy peeked around to the
back yard.  She reached in her utility belt and pulled out a little pick and an
Allen wrench.  “Here we go.”

We edged around the corner
and across the lawn to the back door.  There were no interior lights on, and as
I scanned the back of the house, I didn’t notice any cameras either.  Not to
say they weren’t there, just that I didn’t see any.

Roxy, tools in hand, bent
down and examined the doorknob.

“You might see if it’s
unlocked.”  I twisted the handle and the door opened.

“Damn it, Rose, I was really
looking forward to that.”

She stood and pushed the
door open farther, and we walked into the kitchen.  From what I could see in
the dark, it had granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.  No
dishes, no towels, no clutter.

We stood still by the
kitchen door and listened.  I heard a television from another room, probably
the living room, down the hall.

“I’ll take the upstairs and
you take down,” she whispered.

I grabbed her elbow.  “That
was not the plan.  Splitting up was not the plan.  Every time they split up in
a movie, someone gets hacked to pieces,” I whispered.

She shook her elbow free. 
“Calm down.  We’ll meet back here in five minutes.”

“I don’t have a watch,” I
mouthed silently.  I stood in the kitchen and fought the overwhelming need to
get the hell out of the house.  I gave myself a little pep talk. 
Get it together,
Rose.  You are already here and you can do this.  You have to do this.  For
Axton.

I pulled the mini pink
flashlight out of my utility belt and crept out of the kitchen, hugging the
walls as I went.  Outside the kitchen door was a hallway hub.  One dark hall
led to the left, one to the right, and the short hallway in the middle led to
the foyer.  I craned my head and looked into a darkened dining room to my
left.  Empty.  The stairs took up one side of the foyer.  The room on the other
side of the foyer next to the staircase, was obviously the living room.  It was
brightly lit and whoever was in there watched a Seinfeld repeat.  I tried to
imagine Sullivan sitting on the sofa, watching Seinfeld.  Nope, couldn’t quite
picture it. 

I took the hall to the
left.  I flashed my light over the bare walls.  The first door I came to, on
the right side of the hallway, was closed.  I opened it and swung my penlight
over the furniture.  A pool table sat in the middle of the room with a small
bar to one side, barstools in front of it, and a jukebox on the other side of
the room.  No Axton.  I moved on.  The only other room in the hallway was a set
of double doors directly in front of me.

My heart began to pound.  I
wasn’t positive until I turned one of the knobs, but then I knew.  Sullivan’s
library.  The books, the fireplace, the massive desk, it was all familiar.  I’d
picked the right house.  Yay for me.

I shut the door and dabbed
at the sweat on my brow.  The laptop was gone.  I went behind the desk and
tried the drawers.  They were locked.  Damn, where was Roxy and her mad skills
when I needed them?

I hastily looked around for
anything else that might be of use to me, but found nothing.  Feeling defeated,
I opened the door a crack and peeked out before slipping back into the hallway.

I retraced my steps and made
my way down the hall to the right of the kitchen.  Only one door in this
hallway.  Easing it open, I darted in, closing it quietly behind me.

Sullivan’s bedroom smelled
like him: oranges, sandalwood, and hot male.  I took a deep breath, inhaling
his fragrance, and hoped it was lingering cologne not a lingering Sullivan.

But his California King was neatly
made and took up most of this part of the room.  Small bedside tables sat on
either side of the enormous carved headboard.  I wondered what he looked like,
lying there at night.  Did he wear pajamas or go commando? 

   Opposite the bed was a
stone fireplace, a replica of the fireplace in the library, but instead of
windows flanking it, there were bookcases. A sofa and coffee table sat in front
of it.

To the left of the bed was a
door.  I opened it and shined my flashlight around, which reflected on a
mirror, and I got a quick view of myself.  I looked startled.  I gazed around,
taking in the largest, most opulent marble-covered bathroom I’d ever seen.  The
Jacuzzi bathtub was big enough for two.  Without letting my mind wander down
that road, I stepped further into the bathroom and opened the door next to the
large steam shower.

It led to a walk-in closet. 
Row after row of suits, shirts, slacks, coats—divided by length and color—and
shoes stretched out before me.  My mother would kill for this room. 

Built-in wood cabinets stood
along one side, filled with shallow drawers on the top half, deeper drawers on
the bottom.  I pulled each drawer out, one by one.  Time for payback.  I was
rifling through his shit for a change.  One drawer held rolled ties in little
cubby holes.  Others contained watches, socks, underwear.  Sullivan was a
boxer-brief man. 

None of the clothes belonged
to a woman.  That didn’t mean anything, of course, and it wasn’t why I was there,
but still, duly noted. 

I shut the drawers and the
cabinet and walked out of the closet, through the bathroom, back into the
bedroom.

In the sitting area I ran my
penlight over the fireplace and bookcases.  A few books and knickknacks decorated
the shelves.  I stepped closer, shining the light over the titles, when I noticed
a small space between the hearth and the left bookcase.  At first I tried
pushing the back of the shelf and wound up knocking a stack of books onto the
floor.

“Damn,” I muttered, then
stopped to listen.  My clumsiness went unnoticed, thank God.  I picked up the
books and put them back. 

Well, pushing the shelves didn’t
do anything.  I took a hold of a shelf and pulled.  When the bookcase opened outward,
I landed on my butt.  Hard.  Mentally cursing, I picked myself up and crept
into the secret room.  It was approximately the same size as the walk-in
closet