Best Enemies (A Triple Trouble Mystery)

by Lynn Emery

“Shut your mouth, Doris. You’re scaring her sister,” Frankie snapped at her friend. She patted Willa’s shoulder. “I’m sure Jazz is just pulling one of her little drama moves.”

  Willa thought about Jack and the unnatural ways the young could die. “Please hurry and open the door.”

  “Just make sure you back me up by saying you had reason to worry about her.” Doris had already sorted out the master key. She opened both locks then pushed the door wide. All three peered into the small foyer that led into the living room.

  After a few seconds Willa walked in. Frankie followed her inside with Doris bringing up the rear. “Nothing looks out of place. Jazz, you in here?”

  “Jazz, holler if you here, girl.” Frankie’s voice boomed.

  “Too quiet if you ask me,” Doris muttered.

  Willa went to the kitchen first. Dirty dishes were still in the sink. “Frankie, check down here and I’ll go upstairs.”

  “Okay. Be careful.” Frankie looked in the downstairs half-bath. Then she went into the dining room. “Her furniture is still here. Wonder what she was moving?”

  Doris took another cautious step then another. Soon she seemed to relax. She opened the pantry and then the kitchen cabinets. “All her dishes are still here. Leftovers in fridge, too.”

  Willa had started up the stairs then paused. Frankie came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Come on, I’ll go with you,” Frankie said firmly. “Doris, we’ll be right back.”

  They went up the stairs to the master bedroom first. Jazz’s clothes were tossed over the stuffed chair next to the bed. More clothes were on the floor. The walk-in closet had a lot of empty hangers.

  “She didn’t take all of her clothes and shoes so she must be coming back,” Frankie said. She stood with both hands on her hips.

  “Without these empty hangers I couldn’t tell you what was missing.” Willa picked up a tank top. “I rarely see my own sister.”

  “Honey, I could write a book on not getting along with family.” Frankie pursed her lips. “My parents and brothers quit speaking to me years ago.”

  Willa chewed her bottom lip. “Looks like she left in a hurry. I’ll call her boss.”

  Frankie nodded. “Good idea.”

  Willa dialed up the club. Jazz’s boss answered on the second ring. What she had to say wasn’t reassuring. Lorraine peppered her speech with a lot of expletives as she explained Jazz hadn’t been at work. After listening to her complaints about losing money, being too nice to some people, etc., Willa finally managed to end the call.

  “Child, I heard Lorraine way over here. I hope Jazz has another job lined up. Maybe that’s what this is about. She just wanted out and took off for a few days.”

  “Jazz has been known to take off without saying goodbye.” Willa looked around the condo. Nothing seemed radically out of place. But then Jazz was such a horrible housekeeper.

  Frankie followed Willa’s train of thought. “Yeah, if there was a fight up in here it would hard to tell. Her house cleaning service obviously hasn’t been by in a while.”

  “You’re telling me Jazz has a maid service?” Willa picked through some of the piles.

  “Yeah. Her name is Debbie. I use her every once in a while.” Frankie swept a hand out at the chaos around them. “Jazz gave her a few weeks off by the looks of this place.”

  “I can’t believe Jazz let anybody in here. You know how guarded she is about her space.” Willa shook her head. “Hell, this is my first time in her bedroom.”

  “And girl, she’d be ready to cut us both if she was here,” Frankie said with a laugh.

  “Call that cleaning lady and ask when she last talked to Jazz.” Willa stepped over a heap of jeans on the floor. She peered at the vanity then carefully opened the drawer set into it. “Most of her cosmetics are gone.”

  “Bet she took her favorite thongs and dance costumes, too. A girl gotta earn a livin’ no matter. Hey, Debbie. Girl, how are you?” Frankie walked out into the hall to get better reception on Willa’s cell phone.

  Willa looked around at a rare glimpse into her half-sister’s life. Jazz had no family pictures around. She had one poster on the wall. The legendary black stripper from decades ago, Satin Doll, smiled alluringly, a huge fan of feathers hid most of what looked like a fabulous body. Was that Jazz’s hero? Willa walked closer to examine the vintage poster.

  “Debbie says she cleaned up last week. Jazz paid her for the month and said she’d be in touch.” Frankie handed Willa the phone. “Satin Doll.”

  “Famous?” Willa faced her.

  “Black folks say she had ten times more talent, beauty and class than Gypsy Rose Lee.” Frankie’s husky voice lowered in reverence as she walked to the poster. “Duke Ellington even wrote that famous song Satin Doll about her. Damn, this is an autographed poster. Must be worth a small fortune. Now where would Jazz get that kind of money?”

  “Good question. Let’s search the two guest bedrooms and— ” Willa froze. A beefy man stood in the bedroom door scowling at them. He wore his hair cut short. The part on one side was in the shape of lightening bolt.

  “What the hell y’all doin’ up in here?” The man said.

  “Hi, Kenton. You remember me, I’m Jazz’s neighbor. This is her sister.” Frankie nodded in Willa’s direction but kept her eyes on the man. “Willa, this is Kenton Turner, one of Jazz’s friends.”

  Willa noted the inflection in Frankie’s voice on the word friend. “Nice to meet you. I was worried about Jazz when I couldn’t get in touch. The landlord said it was okay for a relative to make sure she’s alright.”

  “She’s okay. I came by to pick up a package, so y’all can go now.” Kenton jerked a meaty thumb in the direction of the stairs.

  “Maybe we can help,” Frankie offered. “My husband is probably home from work by now and— ”

  “Don’t need no help. Jazz don’t like nobody up in her business so bounce,” Kenton said with a sneer. He gave Frankie a head to toe glance and snorted.

  Frankie stood straight to her full six feet two inches. “Don’t be uncouth with me. I may be a lady, but I’ve still got enough muscle to— ”

  “Maybe we should just leave.” Willa placed a restraining hand on Frankie’s arm.

  “How we know you’re supposed to be here,” Frankie said without moving.

  “Frankie, I really think it’s time to go, girl,” Willa said through a tight smile. “Tell Jazz to call me first chance.”

  “Where did you say she was?” Frankie tossed in.

  “She’s going on vacation with her man, Felipe.” Kenton looked at her. “Not that it’s any of your damn business.”

  “Maybe we better call the po-lice,” Frankie drawled out the word. “Uh-huh, cause both y’all got a history of violence against women. How we know you haven’t done something to her? Huh?”

  “Frankie, be cool. Jazz has taken off with a dude before,” Willa said quickly. She looked at Frankie as though she’d lost her mind. “Let’s just go.”

  “Y’all all right up there?” Frankie’s husband yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “

  “Kenton was about to tell us where Jazz is.” Frankie really got an attitude now that reinforcements had arrived.

  Kenton licked his thick lower lip and muttered a cuss word. “I’m the only one with Jazz’s okay to be in her place. Everybody get the hell out.”

  “So you say,” Frankie shot back without moving.

  Howard’s heavy footsteps made Kenton frown. Seconds later the hefty man appeared. With a shaven head and full beard Howard might have been intimidating except for his wide placating smile. “Look, pal, we just worried about little Jazz. Her sister here got a right.”

  “I said she’s on vacation so ain’t no need to worry,” Kenton shot back. Still a sheen of sweat on his forehead indicated he was anxious.

  “All right, man. It’s cool. Let’s go, ladies.”

  Howard gave Frankie a look that she obviously understood. W
ith one last glare at Kenton Frankie swept past him and out into the hallway. Willa followed and in minutes the three of them were outside on the sidewalk. Only then did Willa let out a long sigh of relief.

  “Frankie, you are real brave to challenge that guy. He looks like a dude who carries a gun,” Willa snapped as she faced Frankie with both hands on her hips.

  “He’s tough with a bunch of his boys to back him, but alone he’s a coward. You saw him break a sweat.” Frankie wore a look of scorn.

  “Yeah, well I’m glad we didn’t keep testing that theory.” Willa pushed Frankie ahead of her as they walked back toward the manager’s office.

  Once Willa returned the key they went to Frankie’s condo again.

  “Something was odd about Kenton showing up. You notice he still hasn’t left. His raggedy car is still parked in Jazz’s space.” Frankie stood at her window. She stared out through a part in the curtains.

  “Might be a good idea to call the police.” Howard said and rubbed the smooth skin on his shaved head.

  “You think he may have hurt her for real?” Willa felt as though a belt had been pulled tight around her chest.

  “Real strange. Wonder what’s taking him so long.” Frankie planted a fist on one hip while the other hand held back the curtain.

  “Put that curtain down. Kenton’s going to see you,” Willa said.

  “I want him to know we’re keepin’ an eye on his chump ass.” Frankie looked in another direction then turned around. “Did you call the police, honey?”

  “No, it was still up for discussion.” Howard joined her at the window.

  Willa followed him. The flash of blue lights lit up the surrounding apartment buildings. “Oh crap. I wonder what’s going on.”

  Moments later the manager hustled toward Jazz’s condo. A uniformed police officer marched along side her. The officer guided Doris aside once she opened the door to Jazz’s condo. Another office led her away to stand next to a nearby police cruiser. Shouts followed. More police cars arrived with officers running around the building that housed Jazz’s condo and three others. Soon two officers came back dragging Kenton between them. Just then an unmarked car pulled up. Willa knew Miller and his partner the minute they emerged. The landlord pointed toward Frankie’s condo. Miller and his partner turned and looked straight at them.

  Frankie let go of the curtain. Howard sighed, and Willa felt a tension headache grip her head in a vise.

  “Oh crap,” all three in unison.

  Chapter 12

  “So when did you last see your sister?” Detective Miller asked again. Of course he phrased it differently, but it was the same question.

  Willa tapped her foot nervously. She glanced around to see Miller’s partner questioning Frankie. Howard was separated from her by several yards and was talking to a uniformed officer.

  “Not for days and days. Maybe almost two weeks. What’s going on?” Willa stretched to look around him.

  Miller leaned with her. “How well do you know Kenton Turner?”

  “Never met him before today. Look I’m worried about my baby sister. So if something has happened to her I’d like to know.” Willa crossed her arms and looked at Miller.

  He heaved a sigh. “We found a body inside her apartment.”

  Willa went to her knees, bent double. Her stomach clenched and the nausea was so strong she felt dizzy. Air seemed to have been sucked from the room. She covered her face with both hands as she gasped for air. Miller grabbed her elbow and led her to chair. Frankie ran to the door with a policewoman right behind her.

  “Sir, I mean ma’am.” The policewoman grabbed at Frankie’s arm and missed.

  Frankie moved too fast for the officer, despite being at least thirty pounds heavier. She rushed over to Willa and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  Willa shook her head. “I should have tried harder to be close to her. She went through a lot as a kid.”

  “Had a rough time, huh?” Miller perched on the edge of chair.

  “She had a worse stretch in foster care than I did. That’s why she was so hard core on the outside.” Willa swiped at the tears rolling down her face. “What happened to her?”

  “Too soon to say. She worked at Candy Girls as a dancer. Pretty, uh, colorful place. Fights, drugs not good.” Miller sighed again as if that explained it all.

  Willa’s head snapped up. “What’s that supposed to mean? That it’s okay she’s dead?”

  Frankie’s arm closed into a hold to keep Willa from jumping up. “Take it easy, sugar. I’m sure the detective wasn’t saying that.” Frankie glared at Miller as if ordering him to fix his mistake.

  “Of course not. I believe every victim deserves justice,” Miller answered promptly. He didn’t look at Frankie, but gazed intently at Willa’s face.

  “We’ll see,” Frankie mumbled.

  Miller’s partner came to the door and waved for Miller to join him.

  “Excuse me for a minute.” Miller strode out. Moments later he came back in.

  “Your sister had a troubled life you were saying.” Miller sat down again.

  Willa rubbed at the numbness in her arms. She wondered if somehow her body was trying to deaden itself to the pain. “She made mistakes with men especially. Like that scumbag Kenton.”

  “And what connection did she have with your late husband?” Miller said, changing the subject.

  Willa shook her head. “She said something about Jack dating some dancer she knew. I— ” Willa stopped when Frankie gave a slight shake of her head.

  “Take it easy, sugar,” Frankie said quietly.

  “That’s all she told me,” Willa finished, now on alert. “Why would you ask me that?”

  “He hung out at strip joints. So did your son. Not a coincidence they both ended up at Candy Girls where your sister works. And now we’re at your sister’s place with a dead body, a known felon and she’s run off.” Miller took a small digital camera from his pocket.

  Willa shook her head to clear the fog of grief. “What did you just say?”

  “Recognize this person?” Miller showed her the LCD screen on the camera.

  “Your sister left this behind in her spare bedroom. I can understand why she didn’t pack him for the trip.” Miller’s voice drove home each work like a steel knife. “I want to know what brought you here.”

  Willa swallowed hard as she gazed at the picture. The digital photo showed a man sprawled out on a floor. The back of his head was bloody. She closed her eyes for a few seconds then she looked at Miller. “You let me think my sister was dead so you could pump me for information? You’re even lower than scum.”

  “That’s some cold-blooded shit,” Frankie spat at him.

  “I’m investigating two murders, and it looks like they’re connected. I keep finding crumbs of information that lead me back to your son. Now why is that?” Miller stood and looked down at them.

  His partner joined him. Both men frowned at the women with expressions that said they did what they had to and would do it again. Howard stood in the door making subtle hand signals to Frankie. He mouthed words that Willa understood to mean they should say nothing.

  Willa rejected his advice. “What are you saying about my son?”

  “We found a certain shoe print at the scene of your ex-husband’s murder.” Miller’s partner rumbled ominously. “Then we dropped by his school to look around. Anthony happened to be coming out of class just as we arrived. He was wearing those very same pricey athletic shoes. Now how lucky was that?”

  “You picked him up?” Willa jumped to her feet.

  “Steady, honey. They can’t interview a minor without his legal guardian.” Frankie spoke fast in a low tone close to Willa’s ear.

  “Yeah, your baby boy is gonna need a good lawyer. Why don’t we follow you home so we can all talk? ” Miller’s partner raised eyebrows that looked like twin wooly caterpillars.

  “Down at the station,” Detective Addison added.


  “Oh my God.” Willa found it hard to breathe. She seemed to be smothered under a wave of fear.

  ***

  By eight o’clock that night they were home. Willa had hugged Anthony so many times her arms ached. Aunt Ametrine stirred a pot of her famous spaghetti sauce. Aunt Beryl was with Mikayla, distracting her with bedtime stories. Anthony joined them, so thankful to be home he didn’t mind hanging out in his baby sister’s bedroom listening in. In fact, the two had been inseparable. Mikayla had stuck close to her brother since they’d come home. She seemed to sense some force wanted to take him away.

  Papa Elton sat on one side of Willa at the kitchen table, Mama Ruby on the other. Willa’s twin brothers had their heads together for a time. Then Dion started working his cell phone.

  Shaun joined them at the kitchen table. “Did you call the lawyer?”

  “Sure did. She came to the police station fast. Thank goodness her office is downtown.” Willa shuddered from the chill she felt. “Just the thought of Anthony sitting in jail.”

  When the doorbell sounded Shaun got up. “I’ll see who it is.”

  Moments later Willa heard MiMi’s familiar flirty laugh. She rubbed her forehead. “Why now, Lord?”

  “What?” Papa Elton glanced at the kitchen door.

  “Don’t get your blood pressure up, Willa,” Aunt Ametrine cautioned.

  MiMi walked beside Shaun with a hand on his arm. Shaun nodded as she chattered. He glanced at Willa with a helpless expression until finally Willa decided to rescue her brother.

  “MiMi, what are you doing here?” Willa got up and pried MiMi’s hand from Shaun’s arm.

  MiMi brushed Willa’s grasp off with a hurt expression. “Good evening to you, too. I’m sure your mama taught you better manners.”

  Mama Ruby stood and shot Willa a stern glance. “Yes, I did. How are you doing? You might not remember me from the funeral.”

  “Yes, ma’am, Miss Ruby. And how are you, Mr. Wilson?” MiMi beamed at Willa’s father.

  “Just fine, young lady. Have a seat.” Papa Elton didn’t look at Willa as he spoke.