Terri Austin - Diners, Dives & Dead Ends

“Well, I can get the hard drive.”

Sheila finally piped in. “We need to go to the police.” It was as if someone had flipped her “on” switch.

“No.” Packard pointed a finger at his wife. “We are absolutely not going to the police. Don’t even think about it, do you hear me?”

Sheila stared at him defiantly, lifting her chin in the air. “Why not?”

“Shit, Sheila, he has all sorts of people in his pocket. Powerful people. We do not want to piss this guy off.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you lost so much money,” I said. “What else do you know about Sullivan?”

Packard frowned at me. “What the hell does it matter? He’s the kind of guy you don’t want to be indebted to.”

“Answer the question, Packard,” Sheila said.

“He runs floating poker games. I don’t really know him, okay?”

She jumped up, pounded her hands on the desk, and leaned forward. “You don’t really know him? You don’t really know a man you owe hundreds of thousands of dollars to? A man you gambled our son’s future on?”

Okay then. Jordan was a boy. Good to know.

“A man who kidnapped your brother? Who could have kidnapped our son?” Sheila’s voice rose to practically a screech. “All this for a man you don’t even effing know?”

Packard rolled his chair back a few inches. “Honey, I can make this right. I know I can. I just need a little time.”

She lowered her voice. “You’ve had time. You’ve had time to tell me we’re in debt up to here.” She put a hand over her head. “You’ve had time to go to the police and tell them about Axton. You’ve had time to do the right thing. You don’t get any more time. Just tell her what she wants to know.” Breathing hard, she fell back into her chair and glared at her husband.

Sliding a finger inside his collar, he pulled it away from his throat. “Okay, sweetheart. Just calm down, okay?”

Oh boy. For a doctor, Packard was really, really stupid.

Sheila uncrossed herself and scooted to the edge of her seat. “Do not tell me to calm down. Do you hear me? You do not tell me to calm down.” Her finger punched the air with each word.

“Okay.” He bobbed his head up and down. I’m guessing this was a side to Sheila he’d never seen.

“Now tell her about Sullivan,” she said through clenched teeth.

Packard rotated his shoulders, cleared his throat. “Sullivan started running poker games out of Penn’s, you know the cigar bar?” I nodded. “That was about three years ago. Before that, I’d never heard of him. Bernard Penn owned it. His grandfather was a founding member of the Huntingford Golf and Country Club.”

I made a circular motion with my finger. “Move it along. I don’t need a Huntingford history lesson here.”

“One day, three years ago, Penn up and sells. Never said why, but he moved to Florida soon after. Then this Sullivan comes in. Starts holding these friendly little poker games. Low stakes, no big deal. Not much different from playing at the club.

“But the new manager let it be known to a few people, myself included, when a game with higher stakes was being played. Usually in these out-of-the-way bars.

“Except for that place you followed me to the other night, the games always rotated. One week it might be in the city, the next week it might be a country bar, the next a sports bar in a strip mall. They would always advance you credit when you were down.”

“But do you know anything about Sullivan himself?”

“Not really.” His gaze shifted quickly to Sheila before resting on me. “He’s always around, but no one ever really talks to him. And he’d never called me directly for money before. This guy who works for him, Henry, he always acted as a go-between. Until Axton took the hard drive, that is. Then Sullivan himself called me.”

Now I knew more about Sullivan’s business, but I still didn’t know anything about him personally. “What about Sun Kissed Tanning? What do they have to do with all this?”

“Manny takes bets on the games, football, basketball,” he made a motion with his hand, “standard stuff.”

“I still say we should go to the police,” Sheila said.

“It could ruin me. What about my city council seat? What about running for mayor?”

I raised my brows at Packard’s level of denial. I wanted to tell him that ship had already sailed. But politicians were slippery little bastards, so who knew? Maybe he would become president after all this.

“I’m not worried about your political career, Packard. I’m worried about Axton and our family.”

“Right, of course, sweetheart,” he said in a placating, condescending tone that made me want to pick up the wooden mallard sitting on his desk and throw it at him. “But think about the practice. If I’m involved in a scandal, how are patients going to trust me?”

“Aren’t they going to know about your money troubles anyway?” I asked. “I mean, the car was just repossessed. What about the house? Are you behind on that, too?” I knew it wasn’t my business, but since I’d been dragged into it, I wanted to know.

Packard shot me a look that was pure venom.

“We’re not behind on the house, are we Pack?” Sheila asked. Her voice sounded thready. She clutched her throat.

“Of course not, honey.” His eyes shifted downward.

“Oh my goodness, we are,” she whispered. She looked ten years older now than when we first walked in the room. She’d pulled into herself. All the anger drained out of her and she now sat huddled in the chair.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said.

“Like I said, I can get the hard drive to Sullivan,” I said. “But what about the money?”

Sheila rubbed her arms like she was cold. “Don’t we have that in investments? Can’t we sell our shares in the market and pay this guy?”

Packard bowed his head. “The market’s been crazy this year. I’m not really sure how much we have.”

“You already sold them, didn’t you?” she whispered.

Packard didn’t look at her. “About six months ago.”

“We don’t have anything left? It’s all gone?”

“I’m so sorry.” He dropped his head on his desk and began to weep.

Sheila went over to comfort him. She cradled him in her arms, making soothing sounds like she would with a child.

I quietly let myself out of the office.

I checked my texts on the way to my car. The first was from Jacks. She wanted me to call her immediately. I knew she’d want to talk about my mom’s little tantrum this morning. I was going to postpone that talk for as long as I could.

The second text was from Kevin. I ignored it.

The third text, from Eric, said he was at home for a change, and my computer was ready. As I drove to his house, my mind went over all the information Packard told me. Most of it I had already guessed, but it was good to have confirmation.

Axton stole Sullivan’s hard drive to get the list of people who owed Sullivan money. Now how could I use that information to get Axton back?

I arrived at Eric’s house and knocked the door.

He opened it with a smile. “Hey, Rose.”

I stepped inside. “Hi. How come you’re not in the office today?”

“I’ve been averaging sixty hours a week, so I stayed home to fix your computer problem.” He pointed to a laptop that wasn’t mine. “Ta da.”

“What is that?”

“You’re new — well, newly refurbished — laptop.” He opened the lid with a flourish. “What do you think?”

“I can’t afford this.”

“Don’t worry kid, I had it sitting around. Consider it a loaner until you can buy a new one.” He pressed the power button. “I downloaded your hard drive onto this. Your old laptop was beyond repair. But I was able to salvage all your data.”