Read Online Diners, Dives & Dead Ends by Terri L. Austin - Free Book Online Page B

away.  I felt unsettled, sad and
angry at the same time.   
    But in a way, she was right.
 Although I’d rather stick a shrimp fork in my eye than admit it to her. 
Lately, I felt like life was passing me by.  I’d been coasting. 
    I diddled my time away,
taking classes like Film Appreciation and Sex Throughout History for the past
five years without any direction whatsoever.  I couldn’t decide what to do with
my life, and it scared me I might never figure it out.
    I blew out a breath.  What I
needed was action, not introspection.  I wasn’t going to find Axton by driving
around feeling sorry for myself.
    I pulled into a Quickie Mart
and asked for directions. 
     
     
    Packard Graystone lived on
the outskirts of Huntingford in a development so new half the houses were under
construction.  Silhouettes of backhoes and earthmovers, their jagged claws
hovering in the air, bordered the neighborhood.  I got lost driving down
partially finished streets that led to nowhere.  Kind of like my life.
    The luxury homes all looked
the same in the dark.  Cookie cutter housing for the professional set.  I
finally found Packard’s house—two chimneys, two bay windows, and a four car garage—in
the middle of a cul-de-sac.  A white SUV sat in the driveway and most of the
lights were shining from inside the house. 
    I grabbed my purse and keys,
marched up to the front door, and knocked.  Axton’s niece or nephew—I couldn’t
tell which because it had one of those floppy haircuts and long
eyelashes—answered.
    “We don’t want any,” he/she
said and started to close the door.
    I wedged my foot in the
gap.  “Get your dad, kid.”  Ax never talked about his brother or this kid. 
Axton was on the outs with this family, even more so than I was with mine.  But
it was going to drive me batty.  Was this kid a boy or girl?
    The child looked at me, then
my foot, and proceeded to yell at the top of its lungs, “Dad!”
    Packard walked toward the
door, wiping his hands on a green and white plaid dishcloth.  He resembled
Axton, but where Axton was small and scrawny, Packard was taller, beefier, and
almost fifteen years older.  The wiry blond hair was obviously a family trait,
but Packard wore his short and full of hair product. 
    “May I help you?”
    “Hi.  I’m Rose Strickland.” 
I waited, but there was no look of recognition on his face.  “I’m a friend of
Axton’s.”
    “Jordan,” he said to the
kid, “go finish your homework.”
    Darn, I still didn’t know if
that kid was a boy or a girl.  Jordan could be used for both, right?
    When the kid zoomed out of
sight, Packard narrowed his cold blue eyes.  “Listen,” he pointed a finger at
me.  “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but that little shit has
nothing to do with me.”

Chapter 10
     
     
     
    My mouth hung open a second
before I snapped it shut.  “When you say ‘little shit’ are you referring to
Ax?”
    “That’s right.”
    His brotherly concern was
underwhelming.  “Axton is missing.  Like really missing.  I’m filing a police
report tonight because it’s been forty-eight hours.  He’s in trouble, Packard.”
    He threw the dish towel over
his shoulder and rubbed his forehead.  “Is it a drug thing?”
    “No, and he’s not really
into anything but pot.”
    “Hey,” he said, “pot is a
drug.  It’s an illegal substance.”
    I rolled my eyes and sighed. 
Packard was working my last nerve.  “Yeah, yeah, I know, but this isn’t a drug
thing.”  I peered over Packard’s shoulder as a tiny woman walked up behind him.
    “Pack, what’s going on?  Who
is this?” she gestured in my direction.  Her brows drew together over light
brown eyes. 
    “She says she’s a friend of
Axton’s.”
    I smiled and held out my
hand.  “Hello, my name is Rose.”
    She stared at my hand a
moment before shaking it.  “Hello, Rose.  Where’s Axton?  Is he with you?”
    “She—” Packard