Finally, she looked up at me. “Okay. I’ll check his phone tonight.”
I pushed my chair back to leave.
“Rose, if he has been talking to another woman?”
I waited.
“I want to know.”
I mulled over our conversation on the way to my apartment. I hoped the phone numbers would yield some results, but I wasn’t holding my breath. Ax and Pack weren’t close. I wasn’t even sure why Ax called his brother the night he disappeared. It was odd.
As my mind wandered, I drove past a strip mall that housed a tanning salon. Something about it niggled at the corner of my mind. I had seen the name of that tanning salon before.
Making a U-turn, I drove back and parked in front of a row of small shops. I dug in my purse for the list of businesses owned by NorthStar Inc., then looked up at the Sun Kissed Tanning Salon with a big ass grin on my face. Shoving the list in my purse, I got out of the car and walked inside.
A girl in her early twenties stood at the counter, rows of tanning products lined the glass shelves behind her. She smiled when I walked in. “Hi,” she said, “how are you today?” Her skin — the color of a radioactive carrot — clashed with her purple tie-dyed bikini.
“I’m great, thanks, and you?”
“I’m great, too.” She flipped her bleached hair over her shoulder and continuously petted it with two hot pink-tipped hands. “You look like you’re in the right place.”
I raised my brows. “I do?”
“Definitely. You’re really pale.”
For some reason I thought she was going to blurt out everything about NorthStar Inc. and how it was connected to Axton. All my questions would be answered. Instead she just wanted to orange me.
“Are you interested in a spray tan or the beds?” She scrunched her nose. “In your case, I would do both.” Not having tan must be a bummer in her world.
“I’m not really here for the tanning.”
And before I could whip out my picture of Axton, she nodded. “Oh, okay. You’re here to see Manny.”
My hand froze inside my purse. “Yep. I’m here to see Manny.” My heart began to pound. Could this finally lead to a clue? God, I hoped so. I was so tired of chasing my own tail.
“Well, come on.” She motioned for me to follow her down a short hallway behind the counter. Unused tanning beds stood in darkened rooms and posters of sunny beaches covered the light blue walls.
Skin Cancer Barbie opened the last door on the left and stood aside so I could walk through. “Someone to see you, Manny.”
“Thanks, Tif.” A round short man with a Benjamin Franklin hairdo and a green Hawaiian shirt sat behind a desk in the small office. The walls were bare and a computer monitor stood on his desk. He gestured to a folding chair. “Sit.”
I smiled and did. “Thanks.”
“What’s your name?”
Oh, crap. I didn’t know he was going to start with the hard questions. “Sue,” I said.
“Pleased to meet you, Sue.” He picked up a gold pen and began twirling it between his fingers. “Now, what can I do you for?”
I searched for a clue, but there was nothing here. No pictures, no decor, nothing. Maybe he thought I was here for a job. My pale body could be the ‘before’ to Tif’s ‘after.’ “Oh, just the usual,” I said.
“There is no usual, really.”
“I’m just looking at the basics. I don’t want to get too creative.”
“Great. That’s smart.” He tapped his noggin with the pen. “You can screw yourself by getting too creative.”
Kind of like what I was doing at this very moment. I nodded and smiled.
“I just need the name of your referral and we’ll get started.”
Shit. “I don’t really remember. I’m so bad with names.” I laughed and tossed my hair over my shoulder.
The smile dropped from his face faster than a drunken girl’s bikini top on Spring break. “Well, that’s a shame.”
I smiled a real charmer. “Can’t we just skip the referral?”
“No, we can’t.”
“Maybe you could make an exception?”
“We don’t make exceptions.” His voice was as cold as his pale blue eyes. Manny Ben Franklin wasn’t buying what I was selling.
The vibe in the room shifted from benign to dangerous in a second. I didn’t know what they were doing here, but I knew it wasn’t kosher. Probably wasn’t legal, either. I stood up and smoothed my leg with one hand as I hoisted my purse up my shoulder with the other. “Sorry to have wasted your time.”
I moved to the door, but Manny jumped out of his chair and blocked my exit. “You’re not going anywhere. Who told you about me?”
My breath caught in my throat. I gulped and blurted out the first name that popped into my head. “Packard Graystone.” My pulse hammered against my throat and I audibly heard my heartbeat.
“I don’t believe you.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer. He wore strong aftershave that made my nose itch and little beads of sweat dotted his massive forehead.
I yanked my wrist back, but Manny’s hand tightened and pain shot from my wrist down my hand. I struggled against his grip, but he didn’t let go. So I screamed. One of those loud, shrill screams that hurts the ear drums. Then I belted him on the side of his head with my fist and brought my knee up at the same time. I didn’t make contact with his crotch, because he brought up his own knee to block it, but he loosened his grasp.
I took advantage and pulled away, then shoved him as hard as I could with both hands. When he stumbled against the file cabinet, I yanked open the door and ran.
Halfway down the hall, Tiff stood in my way with wide eyes. “What’s going—”
Not slowing down, I slammed my shoulder into her arm.
“Ow, that hurt.” She spun to the side as I ran past her and out of the building.
I jumped into my car, jammed the key into the ignition, and without turning to look behind me, I thrust the car into reverse and hauled ass out of the parking lot.
Chapter 14
I pulled up to Jacks’ house just before six. After my run-in with Manny, I’d taken a long winding way home, checking the rearview mirror more than the road in front of me. My hands shook so badly, I gripped the wheel until my fingers hurt. I replayed the conversation with him over and over. I’d found out two things: the tanning salon was a cover for something shady — no pun intended — and Manny knew Packard Graystone. But I didn’t know how either of these facts tied into Axton’s disappearance.
I was still a nervous mess as I got ready for the evening. After babysitting Scotty, I was meeting Dane and wanted to look nice. Not that this was a date or anything. We were just trying to find Axton. Together. At a bar. An un-date, that’s what it was.
As I got out of the car, I adjusted my dress — the nicest one I owned actually. Black, not too short, showing a little boobage, but not enough to be slutty. I thought I looked pretty spiffy.
Then I saw Roxy.
She wore a ruffled blouse with a short black skirt over layers of stiff white petticoats. She topped it off with an enormous black bow attached to her blue sausage curls.
“You look very pretty,” I said.
We walked up to the door and stood on the lighted porch. She glanced at me. “What happened? You run into that BJ guy again?” Her gaze moved over my face. “You look as tense as shit.”
I had been going for casual hot. Apparently I had the holy-hell-I-got-the-crap-scared-out-of-me-by-a-Ben-Franklin-impersonator look instead. “I’ll tell you later.”
The door flew open and I peered down, saw Scotty, and grinned. “Hey Sport.”
“Aunt Rose! We’re having pizza tonight. No salmon.”
“Yay! I love pizza.”