Diner Impossible (A Rose Strickland Mystery) (22 page)

Chapter 25

We hit the road, but since it was close to six, I didn’t have time to stop by Club Saturn. And I was going to have to bring Roxy with me to Captain Bentley’s house. If Hard Ass didn’t like it, too bad.

Captain Charles Bentley lived just north of Apple Tree Boulevard, in an established neighborhood. I parked along the curb and took stock of the house. Nothing fancy. A seventies ranch with brick exterior and a small yard. The neighborhood looked middleclass. The homes were definitely older, but well cared for.

Andre had parked in the drive and emerged from his SUV as soon as I turned off my engine. When he glanced at Roxy and her rainbow lollypop dress, his eyes flickered shut for a millisecond.

“Miss Strickland, what is your colorful friend doing here?”

“I’m Roxy.” She held out her hand. He stared at it for an eternity before giving it a half shake.

“Roxy’s okay.” I turned to her. “Captain Bentley has lung cancer. We only have thirty minutes with him.”

Her jaw stopped chomping. “From smoking?”

“Yes,” Andre said. “And don’t mention it unless he does. He’s a very proud man. If I feel this is too much for him, we leave. Understood?”

Rox and I nodded then tailed him to the front stoop.

A tall man, bald and emaciated, answered the door. His skin was grayish and his sunken cheeks bore evidence of recent weight loss. As did his plaid shirt and navy slacks, which, while neat and pressed, swamped him. Though his upper lip had been frozen into a permanent scowl, his mouth split into a grin at the sight of Andre.

“How you doing, Thomas?”

Andre
actually smiled
. “Can’t complain, sir. Thank you for taking the time to see us. This is Rose Strickland and her friend, Roxy.”

Captain Bentley’s eyes worked their way from Roxy’s blue braids to her pink shoes. “Why do you dress like a kid? You look like that what’s her name—Pippi Longsocks, but with blue hair.” He stepped aside. “Come on in. Take a load off.”

He gestured to the tiny living room. A striped sofa backed up to formal blue curtains. The blue recliner across from the television had a permanent butt imprint. This was the Captain’s chair. And nobody sat in it but him.

Fish mounted to wooden plaques hung on all four walls. The carpet was faded blue shag that showed a flattened, dirty path from the front door to the Captain’s recliner.

“Would you like some coffee?” he asked. I glanced at his left hand—married. I wondered where Mrs. Bentley was.

“No thank you, sir,” Andre said. He motioned for Roxy and me to have the sofa and he stood near the door, his body ramrod straight, hands clasped behind his back.

We sat while the Captain walked to the chair and slowly lowered his tall frame onto it. “Not as limber as I used to be. Goddamned—pardon me, ladies—chemo has taken the piss right out of me. Now, Thomas here says you want to talk about that son of a bitch, Martin Mathers.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “He’s being detained and questioned for the murder of Delia Cummings right now.”

He threw out a rusty laugh that sounded phlegmy and was followed by a coughing fit. He grabbed a tissue and spit into it. “Good. I hope he gets a life sentence and they stick him in Gen Pop. Convicts will probably kill him in the first week. Bastard.”

“What exactly happened between you two?” Roxy asked.

“He cheated me out of my pension,” he said. “I’ve had to do a reverse mortgage on this house to pay for my medical bills, that’s what happened.”

“Do you mind explaining from the beginning, sir?” Andre asked.

Bentley leaned his head back. “Three years ago, some of my officers caught a drug dealer selling pot and pills right across from the high school. He wasn’t the big fish, but he was a decent catch. Mathers, on the other hand, wanted me to cut him loose. I said no, let the PA cut him loose. Our job was to stop the bad guys. I suspected Mathers was on the take. Too many suspects were either given a slap on the wrist or let off altogether. That David Ashby was in on it too, working it out with Judge Keeler. All of them live a hell of a lot better than they should on a public servant’s salary. God, they make me sick.” He cast his eyes to his loose wedding band and twirled it around his finger. “Before I knew it, not only had they let the drug dealer go, I was charged with taking bribes and obstructing justice. Suddenly my bank account had a five thousand dollar deposit. They framed me. Ashby told me that if I left without making a scene, they wouldn’t press charges and all I’d lose was my pension.

“My wife, God rest her, was dealing with complications from diabetes. I didn’t want to put any more stress on her, so I quit. Now she’s gone and here I am. Dying. I got nothing left for my kid. All he’s going to get are those damn fish you see on the wall.”

“How do you know Keeler was in on it?” I asked.

“Because they worked together. Mathers would either let the perp go or if it got to court, Ashby would plead it down to some ridiculous charge and Keeler would give parole. Not one of them gave a damn about sending the bad guys to jail. They did everything they could to let them off. Unless the thug wouldn’t pay up. Dirty. That’s what those three are.” He started coughing again.

I nudged Roxy’s leg and stood. Captain Bentley couldn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know.

Once he stopped hacking, I smiled. “Thank you so much for your time.”

Then the front door opened and Jason Hall, sometimes bartender and all around pain in the ass, walked through the door.

He took one look at Roxy and me and strode toward us. “What the hell are you doing here?” He glanced at the Captain. “Why are they bothering you, Dad?”

“Hey, kid,” Bentley said, “they’re my guests. Now act like your mother taught you some manners.”

Roxy stepped forward. “Oh, so now you recognize me?”

“They were at the club the other night,” Jason said, “asking questions about Delia Cummings.”

“And now they’re asking about Mathers. Sit down, Jason, and stop itching for a fight.”

The bluster left him, but his eyes were still wary. “Why are you bothering my dad about all this? He’s sick.”

“It’s all right, kid. I told Andre they could come.”

Jason glanced by the door where Andre still stood at attention.

I resumed my seat. “Why were you at the funeral home and why is your last name Hall instead of Bentley?”

Roxy flopped down next to me, crossed her arms and legs, and popped her gum as she gave Jason the evil eye. “Yeah. What she said.”

“He’s my stepson,” Bentley said. “Been raising him since he was a baby.”

Jason, dressed in tight jeans and a t-shirt, ran one palm over his head, lifting his free hand toward the ceiling. “Delia was a pain, but I’d known her for years. She died in such a horrible way, I just wanted to pay my respects. Satisfied?”

“In the week before her death, she had an argument with a man at her condo. Was that you?” I asked.

Bentley glanced at his son. “I told you to leave that girl alone. I may not be at the station any more, but I’ve kept my ear to the ground. She was a nasty piece of work and Mathers used her to collect information on everyone.”

“Exactly,” Jason said. “She could find the information to clear your name, Dad.”

Bentley breathed a tired sigh and rubbed his face. “Jase, we’ve been over this. It doesn’t matter. Even if they reinstated my pension tomorrow, it’s not going to bring your mom back, and I still have cancer. I’m just glad I stuck around long enough to see Mathers get what he deserves.”

Jason wasn’t a jerk. He was an adult child who was about to lose his remaining parent. And I’d bet anything the reason he had such a spotty work record was because he took care of his dad.

“Were you the one arguing with Delia that night, Jason?” I asked.

“Yeah. I was trying to get her to dig through the police chief’s personal files and find evidence to get my dad’s pension reinstated. But she was loyal to Mathers even though he was pissed she was pregnant. Told her to get an abortion. She’d already had a miscarriage, though. The night I went to her house, I caught her crying about it.” He gave a little laugh. “She was mad because I saw her at a weak moment. She always tried to act so tough, you know?”

My eyes drifted toward Andre then back to Jason Hall. I stood and tucked the borrowed gray clutch under my arm. “I’m sorry about Delia.” I walked over to the Captain and held out my hand. “Thank you for taking the time to see us, sir.”

He started to stand, but I shook my head. “We’ll see ourselves out.”

He began to have yet another coughing fit. Covering his mouth with one hand, he waved with the other.

At the door, I glanced back and saw Jason rubbing his dad’s shoulder.

Outside on the concrete walk, Andre turned to me. Fine mist covered his glasses. “What do you think, Miss Strickland?”

“Jason Hall just fell off my suspect list.”

“You seem to make snap judgments without a lot of facts. What if he lied about his relationship with Delia? They could have been lovers.”

“Is that what you really think?” I asked.

“It’s worth checking out.” He looked toward the street where the lights outlined the drizzle gently falling to the pavement. “I checked into the electronic list from the lock box on Delia Cummings’ condo. Julia Baxter had used her e-key to enter the home one month ago. I informed the detective in charge of the case. He wasn’t interested in hearing my theories.” Something in his normally controlled voice sounded different.

“Did you get into trouble?” I asked.

“Let’s just say I wasn’t awarded for my initiative. Keep me posted if you find anything new.” He nodded at Roxy. “You and your friend stay safe.”

Chapter 26

In real life, K’Nera AKA Melissa Sue Johnson, was an HR rep for a national office supply chain. She lived right on Huntingford’s dividing line, between the upper crust and the lower half. Her three bedroom house was situated in a newer subdivision of small raised ranches.

I’d stopped to pick up Ax and Dale on the way. As one, we all got out of the car and ran to her front door. The rain had picked up and fell in heavy, cold drops. I shivered in Jacks’ shoes and watched my breath visibly form a frosty cloud.

Ax rang the doorbell and as we waited, I glanced over at Rox. She played with one braid, but she was hanging tough. Getting her out of the apartment and focused on something other than Tariq was a good idea.

I didn’t recognize the woman who answered the front door, but I recognized her voice. Out of Klingon gear, Melissa Sue was pretty. She had a voluptuous figure and an asymmetrical bob of brown hair. No ridgey forehead either.

Her mouth dropped when she saw Dale. “What are you doing here?”

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet on the wet porch. “Rose insisted.”

Melissa’s eyes drifted over him before dropping. “Come on in.”

Delicious, homey scents escaped the kitchen, making my stomach rumble. Those six chicken nuggets hadn’t done the trick.

She took our coats and hung them in the closet. “Sit down, please.”

Her house was lovely. Dark, hard wood floors, old dressers and chests congregated with modern furniture, giving it a cozy, country vibe. She’d laid appetizers and wine out on the trunk that doubled as a coffee table.

We all huddled on the sofa while Melissa Sue balanced on the edge of a comfy-looking red chair. Awkward silence descended. Finally, I jumped right in.

“Melissa Sue, why don’t I help you with dinner?”

“Yeah, okay.” She pointed to the tray of food. “Everyone, help yourselves to wine and cheese. Everything should be ready in fifteen minutes.”

In her small, but well-equipped kitchen, she shot me a glance. “I can’t believe you brought Dale here and didn’t tell me. Ask your questions while I mash the potatoes.” At the tiny butcher block island, she set about loading the cooked spuds with butter, salt, and real cream. Then smashed them all to hell.

“I talked to Sid about your breakup,” I said. “He’s still heartbroken. And angry.”

She nodded. “I know. I never meant to hurt him. I was going to go through with the wedding, even though I wasn’t in love with him. I’m not getting any younger. I just wanted to settle down, have a couple of kids, raise a family. We have so much in common, I thought we could make it work.”

Melissa grabbed a large serving spoon from the counter next to the sink and scraped the sides of the bowl. Adding a little more cream, she mashed some more.

“Then that thing with Dale, it took me by surprise. We’d been to a KAW meeting and after everyone else left, we were still talking. And then we stopped talking. That was our first time together. It was so damn hot.” A little smile hovered around her lips.

I tried to stop the visual that was running through my head. Too bad I didn’t have that kind of will power. “I have absolutely no right to ask, but were you guys still in costume?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, nodding vigorously. “It was rough and feral.” She stared at the dishwasher, lost in the memory. “But, when Sid caught us, we ended it.” She glanced at me and winced. “Afterward, Dale and I just felt too guilty to get together. Now Sid ignores me. And Dale won’t look at me either. Here I am, all alone.”

“Do you think Sid could have taken the uniform?”

She quit murdering the potatoes. “I doubt it. We KAWs have a sense of humor about dressing up and snarling at people. It’s fun. But the SPuRTs—to them this is serious business. They have to take classes and prove their worth. No matter how angry he is, I doubt Sid would ever damage his reputation within Starfleet.” She checked the timer and shut it off. “Grab the meatloaf out of the oven, would you?”

I donned the oven mitts that looked like Star Trek insignias and removed the tangy-smelling meatloaf. Melissa Sue led the way to the table and set two extra plates while I placed the meat on a trivet.

If what she said was true, then who in Starfleet would risk their reputation to steal the uniform? They may have a code, but just like the Chief of Police, some people thought they were above the rules.

I helped Melissa Sue bring out the rest of the dishes and Roxy filled water glasses. When we all sat down, I almost fell onto my plate. That Melissa Sue cooked a mean meatloaf.

However, Axton and I seemed to be the only ones with an appetite. Melissa stared at her meal like the green beans were fascinating, Dale left his fork on the table and rubbed his thumb along the curved edge. Roxy just shoved food around on her plate.

I scarfed down a second helping and once I came up for air, I glanced at Divak/Dale. “Let’s talk.”

He nodded and led the way down the hall—obviously very familiar with the layout of Melissa Sue’s house. “This isn’t her room. It’s a spare, for when her parents come from Iowa.”

I sat on the bed and ran my hand over the pretty blue and white quilt.

“She made that,” he said. “She sews a lot.” He sat next to me and propping one ankle on his knee, bounced his foot up and down.

“So what’s going to happen to you and Melissa Sue?”

“Nothing. I told her I loved her, but if she couldn’t commit to me, then we’d better end it, before we destroyed each other and the group. She wouldn’t move forward with me, so here we are.”

“To hear her tell it, you won’t even look at her.”

His eyes grew wide. “Of course I can’t. I love her. How can I look at her, knowing we’ll never be together?”

What Melissa had done to Sid was horrible—cheating, planning to go through with the wedding when she was in love with Dale. The only one free from guilt was Sid, but everyone was suffering.

“What about the fight you got into with Sid at the end of the laser tag game?” I asked.

“Never should have happened. He’s pissed and rightly so. I’m the one to blame in this whole mess. Sid’s a decent guy.”

“Do you think he could have left the bar and taken the uniform?”

“Anything’s possible, I guess, but I don’t think he’d do that to his fellow Fleeties.”

“Why would any of the SPuRTs steal the uniform?” I wondered out loud.

“I can’t imagine. Mark Smith keeps such a tight reign over there that
even Ray Jones can’t advance from ensign, no matter how hard he tries. And Katherine. Smith has a real thing about women in power. She only made Lieutenant Junior Grade because her dad is Smith’s landlord.”

I sat up. “What do you mean?”

“Smith owns the theater, but Katherine’s dad owns the building. Smith gets reduced rent because he’s a fellow SPuRT.

“You want to know what upsets me the most?” he asked. “The blanket I used to wrap the uniform? Melissa made it for me. It was just this bright fleece throw. Every day I’d look at it and remember what we had. I miss her so much.”

Call me a stupid romantic, but my heart nearly broke in half at his confession. These two crazy kids were in love.

I mentally rolled my eyes at my own sentimentality. Standing, I grabbed his hand. “Come with me.” I stalked out of the room and barreled into the kitchen, where Melissa Sue stood at the sink washing dishes, while Axton dried.

“Melissa, Divak/Dale loves you. And you love him. Stop being a couple of knuckleheads and get together already.”

She looked up at me, her yellow sponge dripping water all over the tiled floor.

I dropped Dale’s hand and gave his shoulder a shove. “Go kiss her,” I whispered.

Dale marched forward and grabbed Melissa, bent her over his arm, and kissed her like a romantic hero from the cover of a romance novel.

Roxy had walked into the kitchen and stood in the corner, sniffling. When she started the slow clap, Ax and I joined in.