He barked out a laugh and shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “You are unbelievable.”
As we continued to sit there, a sense of calm detachment stole over me, as if all this was happening to someone else, like I was watching a movie. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What’s that?”
I pointed toward the file, which now lay on his closed laptop. “If anything happens to my friends or family, if anything happens to Axton, I’ll kill you.”
His gaze flickered over my face. “I believe you, Rose.” He clapped his hands. “Now we know where we stand, don’t we?” He stood up, walked to the door, and opening it, spoke to Henry. “Take her home.” BJ left the room and didn’t look back.
I was hauled out and blindfolded, then shoved into the SUV once again.
Worst. Field trip. Ever.
Chapter 18
Henry all but pushed me out of the SUV and it spun off into the night. I stood there in the rain, watching the red tail lights disappear from view.
BJ had Axton.
When did he take Axton? Where did BJ find him and was he okay?
I picked up my drenched imitation leather purse and my keys still lying next to it on the rain-soaked pavement. I brushed at a wet strand of hair as I made my way to my apartment.
I stripped off my clothes and stood in the shower stall, letting the warm water flow over me as I mulled over my night with BJ. Kidnapping me, showing me he had Ax, those were pretty desperate moves. His threats meant I was on the right track. I was making him nervous. I thought over what I had done the last couple of days. I’d gone to Penn’s Cigar Bar and shown Axton’s picture to the bartender. Went to the tanning salon and tussled with Manny. Saw Sheila Graystone a couple of times. Filed a police report — which I assumed set BJ off, but maybe I was wrong on that score — and ended up with a swanky cocktail dress from Pour Femme courtesy of NorthStar.
That was the key, NorthStar. Had to be. Between Manny and Pour Femme, I was onto something. I smiled at the thought.
This jerk had my Axton, and one way or another, I was going to get him back.
I hopped out of the shower, dried off, and pulled on a pair of sweats. I made myself a pot of coffee. There was absolutely no way I was going to get any sleep. Not after my day. I decided to look up the numbers Sheila gave me.
I booted up my laptop, and using the reverse address, I found the first number. Huntingford Bank and Trust. According to Sheila, the bank called Packard six times in two days. Seemed excessive, but what did I know? My banking needs were small, just like the balance in my account.
The next number belonged to Charles and Willa Beaumont. These two were unfamiliar to me, so I did a little research. Turns out both Willa and her husband Charles were civic-minded citizens. Willa worked with the Historical Preservation Society and Charles sat on the city council with Packard. Seemed legitimate.
The next number was for the Sun Kissed Tanning Salon. Someone — Manny — called Pack once. I gasped in excitement. Finally a tangible link between NorthStar and at least one Graystone brother. I had no idea what it meant, but it wasn’t a dead end, and that had me doing a happy dance. Literally. I got up and danced around my apartment. I may have even pumped a fist once or twice.
After I calmed down, I looked up the final number, the one that popped up nine times. That number, of course, was unlisted.
Although it was close to midnight, I decided to call it. I pressed star sixty-seven before dialing to block my number from Caller ID. Axton taught me that.
A smooth voice answered on the second ring. “Sullivan.”
I froze for a beat in shock before I quickly pushed the end button on my phone. I knew that voice. The Bossy Jackass.
I stared at my phone as if it might reach out and bite me. Sullivan. That was his name. First or last?
I immediately took to the computer and looked up several combinations. Sullivan and NorthStar Inc., Sullivan and Sun Kissed Tanning, Sullivan and Packard Graystone, and every other pairing I could think of. Nothing.
I called Eric and woke him up. “What,” he grumbled.
“I found out who BJ is. I found him, Eric.”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Rose. And I have a link between NorthStar and Packard Graystone.”
“Hang on, give me a minute.”
I continued to punch the word Sullivan into the search engine as I waited for Eric to become coherent.
“All right, tell me again. Slowly.”
I told him about Packard’s call from Sun Kissed Tanning. “And I think I have a name for The Bossy Jackass.”
“How did you find out his name?”
I explained how I had made this amazing discovery, then sat back, feeling pretty darn pleased with myself.
“You rock, Rose.”
I grinned. “I do rock. I rock hard.”
“Let me do a little digging and see if I can turn up anything.”
There wasn’t any more I could do to find Axton tonight. I suppose I could have studied. Instead I watched infomercials until it was time to go to work.
“I’m going to saw my wrists, I swear.”
I walked from the kitchen into the dining room the next morning and saw Roxy holding a butter knife in the air. Ma grabbed it out of her hand.
Pounding her fists on the counter, Roxy glared at her. “I need a cigarette.”
“You’re doing fine, honey,” Ma said, rubbing her back.
I plucked an apron from the hook and forced a smile. “Hey.”
They both looked up when I entered.
“Hey, toots, any news on Axton?” Ma asked.
I debated whether to tell them about Henry’s abduction and Sullivan’s latest threat. It would upset Ma, and Roxy would insist I stay with her. I decided to do some creative editing. “I went to Pour Femme yesterday and told them I was from NorthStar. They gave me a dress. Then I found out BJ’s name and he admitted he has Axton.”
“What?” Ma slammed the knife on the counter. “He has Axton? What does that mean?”
“Sheila gave me that list of numbers. When I called he answered ‘Sullivan.’ He told me to quit asking questions and said he had Axton.” That was creative and no one would worry, right? “Also, Pack and Sun Kissed Manny know each other.”
“What’s the dress look like?” Roxy asked.
Ma lightly smacked her arm. “Is Axton all right?”
I thought about that horrible picture of Ax bound and gagged. He looked terrified. “I’m not sure.”
She came around the counter and pulled me into a hug. “I miss him so much, Ma. I just want him to be okay.”
“Maybe you should go to the police, Rose. I know this Bossy Jackass—”
“Sullivan,” I mumbled against her shoulder.
“I know he said not to, but maybe it’s time.”
“I already went yesterday with Dane. They don’t care. The cop treated me like I was the criminal. He didn’t believe me.”
“Dick,” Roxy said.
“He kind of was.”
“I wish I knew what to tell you, toots.”
“Me too, Ma.”
I went to the bathroom and splashed some cool water on my face. Had I done the right thing not telling them Henry kidnapped me and took me to a Godfather-style sit down with Sullivan? I didn’t know what the right thing was anymore. I was putting everyone around me in jeopardy. Would it be better if I warned them? Or would it just make them as paranoid and jittery as I was?
Sundays were usually our busiest day with people waiting up to thirty minutes for a table. But because the heavy rain continued throughout the morning, we were pretty slow.
Dane showed up at eight. He shrugged out of a wet all-weather jacket and hung it on the peg by the door. Running a hand over his hair, his gaze moved around the diner until it found me in the corner pouring coffee.