Free Diner Knock Out (A Rose Strickland Mystery Book 4) by Terri L. Austin Page A

shoulder, he peered down and scowled. “I’m serious. Beat it, kid. Or I’ll kick you out myself.”
    Beat it? Had I time warped into 1955? “I need to talk to you about Rob Huggins, and I’m not leaving until I do. In case you didn’t get the memo, Butterfly , he’s missing. And if I tell the police he was involved in an illegal fight club, they’ll be all kinds of interested. Don’t you think?”
    “How do you know about the club?” His narrowed eyes turned to cold blue chips. “And did you just threaten me?”
    “Um, yeah.” I furrowed my brow at him. “I thought that was pretty obvious.”
    My heart pounded as he stared me down. I hoped he wouldn’t throw me over his shoulder like a Hefty bag and toss me out on my ass.
    After a long moment, he barked at the guys in the ring, told them to continue sparring. “I’ll give you five minutes.” Striding past me, he deliberately bumped my shoulder on his way to the back of the room.
    I shifted my glance from side to side as I followed, trying to commit a few faces to memory. But my attention was drawn to a white guy in the corner sporting a mohawk and a blank expression. He kept his eyes trained on me, watching my progress across the room. Hello, creeper . At his intense scrutiny, a shiver slid down my spine.
    I tore my gaze away and trailed after Buster, who stomped through the office and sank into a chair behind a cluttered desk. “Shut the door.”
    I did as he requested and gazed out the picture window next to it. Roxy had cornered a guy, keeping him from jumping rope. I smiled at her fierce stance—hands on her hips, feet braced wide apart. I was glad to have her back on my team.
    I turned to Buster. “When was the last time you heard from Rob?”
    “What are you, another girlfriend? He didn’t knock you up too, did he?”
    I didn’t bother to answer. Just crossed my arms and gave him my death ray stare.
    He sighed. “Look, I don’t know where Rob is. Frankly, I don’t care what my fighters get up to in their spare time. If you want to rein him in, that’s your business. I don’t get involved in domestic disputes, sweetheart.”
    “Glad to hear it. Speaking of disputes, I’d love to get a ringside seat at the next fight club.”
    “Do you think you’re being cute? You better not mention the club to anyone, you got that?” He pointed his crooked forefinger at me. “Not unless you want a whole world of trouble to come crashing down.” I jumped a little when he pounded his fist on the desk for emphasis.
    His threats were scarier and more effective than mine, but I wouldn’t be deterred. Not when I had a hot case on my hands. “Rob Huggins is missing.”
    Buster lowered his bushy brows until they obscured his eyes. “Who are you? Why do you care about Robbie?”
    “As I said, my name is Rose Strickland. I work with the Thomas Detective Agency, and I’m looking into Rob’s disappearance.”
    He stood then, but kept the glower firmly in place. From the pictures in the hallway, back in the day Buster had been muscular but lean. In the intervening years a layer of flab had developed around his abs. His large, scarred hands bunched into fists. “Disappearance? What the hell are you talking about? If Rob didn’t tell you about the fight club, how did you find out?”
    “May I sit?” I pointed to the ratty faux-leather chair in the corner. I didn’t wait for permission and pulled it up to his desk. The metal feet made a scraping noise across the gray concrete floor. I balanced on the edge of it and crossed my ankles. “Did he mention taking some time off? Where would he go?”
    Buster’s brows lowered even further, wiggling like two gray caterpillars. “Who hired you?”
    “I can’t say. Client confidentiality. Help me out here, Mr. Madison. Would Rob have skipped town? Does he have any enemies at the fight club?”
    He flung his hand toward the window. “Look at ’em out there. They’re all enemies, fighting for the same