Terri Austin - Diners, Dives & Dead Ends

They were very detailed, containing financial records, personal stats, and the amount each person owed with coordinating dates, times and bets. It was all very factual and impersonal. I read over my own file twice. It was a little sad how thin and boring it was. But at least I didn’t owe Sullivan money.

Ma gave me the day off so I could take care of business. I went to the bank and opened a safe deposit box to hold one hard copy and one set of memory cards. She advanced me a week’s salary to pay for it. I wasn’t too happy about that, but since I’d emptied my bank account buying stuff like underpants and secondhand sweats, I had to suck it up.

I glanced at the clock every few minutes. The woman sitting next to me gave me the stink eye. Probably because I kept shifting in my chair and clicking my nail nubs against the arm rests.

An hour later Dane walked into the office accompanied by a beautiful blonde in an expensive navy suit. She smiled up at him, laughing at something he’d said. A little bolt of jealousy zapped my chest and I jumped to my feet, wishing I’d worn something nicer than break-Axton-out-of-jail sweats.

When he saw me his eyes widened in surprise. “Rose.” The blonde had been mid-hair flick when he stopped. She looked at him in confusion for a second, and then stared at me. And not in a happy way.

“Sorry I’m here unannounced, but I need to talk to you.” I looked from him to the beautiful woman now glaring at me. “In private.”

“Of course. Is everything all right?”

He took my elbow, his companion forgotten, and steered me toward the inner office door.

“Dane,” she said sharply.

He stopped and turned back to the blonde. His hand, still clamped on my elbow, forced me to turn with him. “I’m sorry. Rose Strickland, this is Amy Phipps. Amy, Rose.” He nodded his head between us.

Amy smiled. Sincere, professional, with the right touch of warmth. I wasn’t fooled for a minute. “Are you a client of Dane’s?”

“No, Rose is a friend,” he said, answering for me.

“So nice to meet you, Amy,” I said.

“Excuse us.” Dane led me away again. Over my shoulder, I smirked. Her phony smile turned to a scowl.

He hustled us into his office and shut the door. The office was on the small side, with one window and a large desk. A glass-covered case containing books of codes and statutes stood next to it.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He set his briefcase on the floor and settled me into one ugly green client chair before dropping into the second chair, angling toward me so our knees almost touched.

“Axton’s back.”

“That’s great.” He pulled me into a hug. It felt nice. Plus, he smelled good, like cedar and coffee. He finally leaned back a bit, but kept his hands on my shoulders. My knees were wedged between his now.

“How did this happen? Did Sullivan just let him go?”

I cleared my throat. “Not exactly.”

“Did Axton escape?”

I took a deep breath and shifted my gaze to his tie. It was navy with little red dots in a diamond pattern. “Not exactly.”

He dropped his hands and sat back in the chair. “All right, tell me.”

“Roxy and I broke him out.”

“What?” He stood, and with his hands in his pockets, he began pacing the length of the small office. Six steps to the window, pivot, six steps to the wall behind me. Rinse and repeat.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I needed to get Axton out of there. And since Sullivan has the Chief of Police in his pocket… Anyway, I need to hire you.”

Dane looked out the window, his back to me. I could see the line of tension in his shoulders. “Yes, of course. But you might need a more experienced defense attorney. One of the partners, maybe.”

“Why would I need a defense attorney?”

He faced me then. “I assume you’re worried about Sullivan pressing charges.”

“Sullivan pressing charges against me? He broke into my place first. And he kidnapped Axton. Wait. Before I tell you anything, Dane, I need to hire you.”

He looked at me for a long time. I think he was debating whether or not he wanted me to tell him anything at all. He nodded. “All right. I charge four-fifty an hour.”

I pulled a bill out of my pocket. “I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “God. All right.” He grabbed the money and tucked it in his pocket.

I took a deep breath and paused before unzipping my bag and pulling out the stack of papers. “I borrowed some files from Sullivan and made copies. I need you to take a set and hide them.”

His face blanked, like what I said hadn’t even registered. Then his face turned a dull red. He threw his hands in the air. “My God, Rose, have you lost your mind? You stole…” He realized he was almost yelling and lowered his voice to whisper. “You stole files from Sullivan? The man who kidnaps people? The man who broke into your home and destroyed everything you own? That man?” His brows lowered over his eyes and his jaw began to twitch.

“More like borrowed than stole. And I don’t think he actually did that last one. Destroyed all my things, I mean. I think that was someone else.”

“Who?” he yelled again. “Who else would have done it? That nitwit with the ear holes?”

“Well, I don’t think Kevin did it either.”

Dane sank back into the seat next to mine and thrust his face into his hands. “Do I have gray hairs yet? Because I feel my hair turning gray.”

“Looks all right to me.”

He muffled a laugh and sat up. Then he took one of my hands and kissed my palm before looking at me with resignation. “You are so complicated. You are the only person I know who would do something so foolish and so brave.”

“I just want to protect my friends. That’s how I roll.”

When I left Dane’s office, Amy Of The Frigid Stare And Nordic Good Looks shot me an icy smile and told me to have a good day. At least that’s what her mouth said. The unseen bubble over her head read, “He’s mine, bitch. Hands off.” Frankly, she scared me almost as much as Sullivan. Just in a completely different way.

I figured it was only a matter of time before Sullivan tracked me down, but I wasn’t ready to see him yet. I needed to keep moving. A moving target was much better than a sitting duck, I’d always said. Okay, I’d never said that. But still, my theory was good.

I drove to my dad’s office, which was on the ninth floor of the medical building next to the hospital. He had a spacious waiting room with a slate tile fountain on one wall. I glanced around at the three people in the waiting room. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too busy to see me.

Sally Jenson had been my dad’s receptionist forever. “Rosalyn, honey, it is so good to see you.” She came out of the inner office and hugged me. “You look good.”

I had always liked Sally. She would sneak peppermint candy to Jacks and me on the rare occasions when we visited the office. Although she had to be in her sixties now, she hadn’t changed much. Her blonde hair was styled a little differently than when I had last seen it, but other than that, she looked the same. I wondered what her secret was.

“You look great too, Sally. I like the hair.”

Her hand fluttered to it, smoothing back a strand. “Thanks. I just got it cut.” Her smile withered around the edges. “I’m not sure I like it.”

“Well, I do. It’s very flattering.”

“You’re good for my ego. Now, you want to see your father. Go on back. I think he can squeeze you in.” She winked.

The door to my father’s office stood open, so I went in and sat down. It seemed my mother had gotten her hands on my dad’s office space. I would recognize her bland beige thumb anywhere. Colorless paintings hung on taupe walls underlined by a thick tan carpet. It had been a long time since I had been here. Five years, to be exact. When I told my dad I didn’t want to go back to the all-girls school on Cell Block H.