Read Online Last Diner Standing by Terri L. Austin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Terri L. Austin
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was no appointment for today’s date, so I flipped through the last week. Crystal had a very busy life of manicures, salon trips, waxing appointments. Then I saw the name ‘Daddy’ and flipped the book to show Roxy.
“So, she had lunch with her dad,” she said.
“At three on a Wednesday afternoon? There were no pics of him in the place. Strippers tend to have daddy issues.” I checked back a few weeks. “Lots of Wednesday afternoons with Daddy.”
Roxy glanced at me, her blue eyes wide. “Sugar daddy?”
“That would be my guess.” There was no contact info listed in the address part of the book. No personal info on Daddy at all. “But we still don’t know who he is.”
“Do you think that’s who she was talking to on the phone?”
I sighed. “Don’t know.”
Our next stop was the muffler shop. According to Sondra, Asshat used to work here, and from what Janelle told me this morning, his friend Marcus still did.
I pulled into a lot with at least a dozen other cars. A dark tow truck was parked off to one side. Being here reminded me I needed an oil change. And if I still had my car, I’d totally get one.
I strode into the waiting room and Roxy followed behind. A strong mix of rubber, oil, and gas filled the air. Banging and clanging sounds from the garage echoed through the room. A man in a filthy blue shirt with an embroidered nametag that read ‘John’ stood behind the counter.
“Is Marcus here?” I asked.
He scratched his cheek with an oil-stained hand. “Who’s asking?”
“A friend of Sheik’s.”
“Just a minute.” He left through the glass door that led to the garage. While I waited, I glanced around at the plastic tan chairs, the coin op toy machine, and the empty coffeepot in the corner.
A tall, cute African American man walked through the door, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so. We’d like to talk to you about Sheik.”
His eyes flicked over me. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jane.”
Roxy, who had stuck two quarters in the toy machine and was turning the knob, waved. “I’m Elizabeth.”
Marcus looked a little taken aback by her outfit, then lowered his brows. “What do you want to know about Sheik?”
“We’re interested in all that money he was throwing around.”
“What the hell business is it of yours?” He narrowed his brown eyes and set his fists on the counter, the rag clenched in one hand.
“From what I hear, he’s unemployed,” I said.
“So where did it come from?” Roxy asked.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are—”
“Friends of Janelle’s. She’d like a piece of Sheik’s pie.”
“She’s got kids to feed, you know,” Roxy said.
The waves of anger coming off him beat at me. “That bitch tried to kill my Holmes. She’s lucky she’s in jail where I can’t touch her.”
“She didn’t hit Sheik, Marcus. She’s innocent.”
He scoffed. “If she didn’t do it, who the fuck did?”
“Crystal?” I asked.
“Nah, Crystal’s got a temper. She’d bitch slap someone, maybe take off her shoe and whack him, but she wouldn’t put him in a coma.”
“Crystal and Sheik had a big fight at The Bottom Dollar last week,” I said.
Roxy walked up to the counter to stand next to me. “And she was arrested for domestic assault twice.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s a matter of public record,” I said. “Who else was Sheik dating?”
“Sheik doesn’t date, he hooks up.”
“Who was he hooking up with?”
“It doesn’t matter. Janelle’s the one who did this. End of story.” He strode toward the glass door, jerked it open so hard the handle banged against the wall.
“That guy’s got some anger issues.”
Roxy held up a rub-on flaming heart tattoo she’d gotten from the machine. “For sure.”
We made one more stop at the vet clinic to talk to Sheik’s sister, Roshanda. It was after five and the office was surprisingly busy. While Roxy and I waited in line for our
“So, she had lunch with her dad,” she said.
“At three on a Wednesday afternoon? There were no pics of him in the place. Strippers tend to have daddy issues.” I checked back a few weeks. “Lots of Wednesday afternoons with Daddy.”
Roxy glanced at me, her blue eyes wide. “Sugar daddy?”
“That would be my guess.” There was no contact info listed in the address part of the book. No personal info on Daddy at all. “But we still don’t know who he is.”
“Do you think that’s who she was talking to on the phone?”
I sighed. “Don’t know.”
Our next stop was the muffler shop. According to Sondra, Asshat used to work here, and from what Janelle told me this morning, his friend Marcus still did.
I pulled into a lot with at least a dozen other cars. A dark tow truck was parked off to one side. Being here reminded me I needed an oil change. And if I still had my car, I’d totally get one.
I strode into the waiting room and Roxy followed behind. A strong mix of rubber, oil, and gas filled the air. Banging and clanging sounds from the garage echoed through the room. A man in a filthy blue shirt with an embroidered nametag that read ‘John’ stood behind the counter.
“Is Marcus here?” I asked.
He scratched his cheek with an oil-stained hand. “Who’s asking?”
“A friend of Sheik’s.”
“Just a minute.” He left through the glass door that led to the garage. While I waited, I glanced around at the plastic tan chairs, the coin op toy machine, and the empty coffeepot in the corner.
A tall, cute African American man walked through the door, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so. We’d like to talk to you about Sheik.”
His eyes flicked over me. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jane.”
Roxy, who had stuck two quarters in the toy machine and was turning the knob, waved. “I’m Elizabeth.”
Marcus looked a little taken aback by her outfit, then lowered his brows. “What do you want to know about Sheik?”
“We’re interested in all that money he was throwing around.”
“What the hell business is it of yours?” He narrowed his brown eyes and set his fists on the counter, the rag clenched in one hand.
“From what I hear, he’s unemployed,” I said.
“So where did it come from?” Roxy asked.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are—”
“Friends of Janelle’s. She’d like a piece of Sheik’s pie.”
“She’s got kids to feed, you know,” Roxy said.
The waves of anger coming off him beat at me. “That bitch tried to kill my Holmes. She’s lucky she’s in jail where I can’t touch her.”
“She didn’t hit Sheik, Marcus. She’s innocent.”
He scoffed. “If she didn’t do it, who the fuck did?”
“Crystal?” I asked.
“Nah, Crystal’s got a temper. She’d bitch slap someone, maybe take off her shoe and whack him, but she wouldn’t put him in a coma.”
“Crystal and Sheik had a big fight at The Bottom Dollar last week,” I said.
Roxy walked up to the counter to stand next to me. “And she was arrested for domestic assault twice.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s a matter of public record,” I said. “Who else was Sheik dating?”
“Sheik doesn’t date, he hooks up.”
“Who was he hooking up with?”
“It doesn’t matter. Janelle’s the one who did this. End of story.” He strode toward the glass door, jerked it open so hard the handle banged against the wall.
“That guy’s got some anger issues.”
Roxy held up a rub-on flaming heart tattoo she’d gotten from the machine. “For sure.”
We made one more stop at the vet clinic to talk to Sheik’s sister, Roshanda. It was after five and the office was surprisingly busy. While Roxy and I waited in line for our
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