“Are you serious?” I scanned her face to see if she was teasing me. She was not. “So I’m a humpfer. That’s what I am I guess.” No one had ever told me that I made noises when I sleep. “Was it annoying?”
“I got used to it after a while. So, what’s the next step in getting Axton back?”
“I need to take Axton’s computer to Steve.”
“Who?”
“Right, I forgot to tell you about him.” I filled her in on Mr. Grabby. “Then I’m going to have dinner at my parent’s house so my mother can harass me and hopefully give me Packard Graystone’s phone number. I doubt Axton told his brother anything, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Not a great one.”
We sat in silence a few moments. The only sound in the apartment was Roxy slowly and quietly — at least for her— chewing her nicotine gum. The stillness finally broke when my stomach growled.
“I’m going to go see Steve.” I stood up, folded my jeans, and slipped on my jacket, promising Roxy I would wash her clothes and bring them back. I left feeling much better than I had that morning. The coffee was out of my system, I’d slept for over three hours, and my apartment had a new lock, thanks to Ray.
On my way to the campus, I picked up sub sandwiches for Steve and me. It was the least I could do, since he was helping me with Ax’s computer. Plus, I was starving.
The college was fairly quiet. Most of the day students were gone and the night classes didn’t start for at least two hours. I snagged a great spot in the parking lot for a change.
The basement of Blake Hall was dimly lit with gray concrete floors and ugly green subway-tiled walls. Wedged between the men’s room and the supply closet, the tiny IT office was crowded with multiple desks, numerous computers, and two guys.
Both men looked up at me when I opened the door, a sandwich sack in my hand and my backpack over my shoulder. Steve sat in the back corner and Eric, whom I had met before, sat in the middle of the room. The empty desk at the back wall was Axton’s. A wave of anxiety rolled over me when I saw it. Ax should be sitting there, fiddling with… Well, whatever computer stuff he fiddled with. I missed him.
I smiled. “Hello.”
Steve jumped out of his chair. “Hey, I thought you’d forgotten.”
“Sorry, I’m just running late.”
“Rose, this is Eric.”
“Yeah, I know. Eric and I sang a karaoke duet at last year’s Christmas party.” Islands in the Stream. It wasn’t pretty.
“Where the hell is Axton?” Eric asked. “We were in deep shit yesterday with that server.” In his late thirties, Eric’s spare tire was little bigger than the last time I’d seen him and his hair was definitely thinner.
I raised my eyebrows at Steve. “Didn’t you tell him?”
“I kind of forgot.”
I turned back to Eric. “Axton’s missing. He gave me his computer for safekeeping, but I can’t get into it without a password.” I tilted my head sideways in Steve’s direction. “Steve said he’d try to get into Axton’s computer and see if there’s anything that’ll help me find him.”
“Missing?” Eric ran his hand over his stubble-covered cheek and frowned. “Are you sure he didn’t just leave for a few days? He’s done that before, you know.”
“Only for important stuff like Comic-Con or a Trekkie convention,” I said. “I always knew where he was. Besides, he wouldn’t leave behind his car or his backpack.”
Eric’s frown deepened. “Have you called the police?”
“Yeah, but they won’t let me file a report until he’s been missing forty-eight hours.”
“Are you sure he’s not on a bender?” Eric asked.
“He is not on a bender.” Why wouldn’t he believe me? Axton wasn’t off on an adventure or out getting stoned, the guy was missing. “There’s a strange man looking for him, says Axton has something that belongs to him. Do you know what Ax was up to? Do you know anything about a club he went to a couple of nights ago?”
“He didn’t mention it.” Eric reached his hands out to me. “Let’s get a look at that computer.”
I shrugged at Steve. He frowned and shrugged back.
First I handed the backpack to Eric, then I handed the food to Steve. “I brought you a sandwich as a thank you.”
Steve adjusted his glasses. “That was really thoughtful of you. Thanks.”
Eric dug Axton’s computer out of the bag and booted it up. “Where did this internal hard drive come from?” He held up the shiny rectangle.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t even sure what it was. There’s another sandwich in the sack, Eric. You can have it.”
He grabbed a sandwich out of the bag, unwrapped it, and peeked beneath the bread. “Bring ham next time.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re welcome. How long do you think it will take?”
“Don’t know. May take a few minutes or I may have to run a program. Maybe longer if the hard drive is encrypted.” He finally glanced up at me. “You want to come back tomorrow?”
I grabbed my backpack from Eric’s desk. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll probably be here around two-thirty. By the way, if you find anything about NorthStar Inc., pay special attention to that, would you?” I stuck my hand in my purse and brought out all the burned CDs I’d taken from Axton’s desk. “You might look at these, too.”
“Okay. And Rose? You better find Axton soon or he won’t have a job to come back to.”
Chapter 9
When I got home I was disappointed there were no messages from Axton or Dane. There was, however, one from Jacks telling me she was excited I was coming to dinner. That made one of us. And yet another message from Kevin, which I deleted.
Girding myself for dinner with my parents, I straightened my hair, put on some makeup, and donned a pair of black slacks and nice flats. I took one last look in the mirror and made a face.
My parents lived in a subdivision called The Greens, which skirted a golf course — of course. In an effort to downsize, they bought this home a few years back. My childhood home boasted a two acre plot with easy access to horse trails, which we never made use of because we had no horses. My mother was allergic. This newer, smaller house had four bedrooms, five baths, a media room, a state of the art kitchen, and a game room. But it was less of a home, more of a showplace. A sterile, gorgeous showplace.
I parked on the street in front of the house — I didn’t want to hear about my car leaving oil stains — and walked to the front door. My sister’s SUV was already in the driveway. I glanced at my watch. Two minutes early. I admit I felt a little smug when I rang the bell.
Barbara, my mother, answered the door with a glass of wine in her hand. Her champagne blond hair perfectly coiffed, her slacks and blouse fashionably chic. “Hello, Rosalyn. You’re late.” She turned and walked toward the living room, leaving me on the front porch.
I found my family gathered in the ivory and beige living room. Standing by the empty fireplace with a drink in one hand, my father talked hospital politics, gesturing with his glass. My brother-in-law, Allen nodded, a look of concentration of his face. Their plaid shirts, khaki pants and sweater vests were almost identical. Allen, with his sandy blond hair and handsome features reminded me of a younger version of my dad. What that said about Jacks, I didn’t want question too closely.
Jacqueline sat on an ivory chair with a glass of white wine in her hand. Although she was six years older than me, she didn’t look it. She wore her expensive blonde hair several inches shorter than mine and kept herself trimmed and toned by working out at the country club gym. I, on the other hand, kept my girlish figure by not being able to afford a lot of groceries and got my hair cut at Huntingford Beauty Academy.