A familiar voice said, “Hello? You there? Well, call me at the university as soon as you get this.”
Jonelle threw the briefcase on the floor next to the dining room table. On the wall behind the buffet were several framed photos. Most were of her and Del, and some were just of Del alone. She snatched a photo of him taken on the beach in Cancun and hurled it against the wall, the glass shattering and tinkling to the floor.
Jonelle ignored the crunch of glass beneath her shoes and seized the rest of the photos from the dining room wall. She marched into the kitchen and grabbed several large plastic bags. She methodically went through each room in the condo and gathered up every framed photograph of Del within easy reach and dropped each picture in a bag. Jonelle sealed the bags, carried them to the trashcan in the utility closet, and threw them in the garbage. She’d deal with the pictures in the albums later.
Once again the phone rang, and she considered flinging that against the wall as well. Adrienne’s voice sizzled over the machine.
“Hey! Pick up already. I get you’re in a bad mood for some reason. Are you dying? Is someone you know dying? ‘Cause somebody better be for you to be hanging up on me like that.”
There was a pause, and in a softer tone Adrienne asked, “Are you there? Is everything all right? If you don’t call me in the next twenty minutes, I’m gonna assume you’re being held at gun point and call the cops.”
Jonelle heard a deep sigh. “I’m running out of patience here, Jonelle, so call me. Dammit!”
Jonelle ignored Adrienne’s pleas to answer. Instead, she retrieved the police report from her briefcase and carried it to the small spare bedroom used as a home office.
She sat at the old oak desk they’d found at a flea market. Her hand rubbed the rough surface. She remembered how they both fell in love with the desk’s heavy, worn look. Del had replaced the brass hardware with black wrought iron drawer pulls, which gave the desk its aged look.
Her eyes wandered around the room. Jonelle recalled how they had argued playfully about what to put on the sand-colored walls. She wanted Jacob Lawrence prints, and Del had insisted on NASCAR posters. They finally agreed on watercolor landscapes done by local artists.
The problem of Del and his outside “interest,” loomed large. Jonelle opened the folder and carefully read each word of the report. There was something vaguely familiar about the place where the police had set up their surveillance. An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of her stomach.
The sound of the outside buzzer startled her.
Instead of answering the intercom, Jonelle pulled out a county map from the bottom desk drawer and spread it out in front of her. She searched for the address on the map and had almost found it when the buzzer sounded again. Someone’s finger pressed on the button and didn’t let up.
“Shit!” Jonelle said, running to answer the intercom.
“Who is it?” she yelled.
“Who is it? Buzz me in or I’ll break the damn door down.”
“Not now, Adrienne, okay? Come back later.”
“Uh uh. I left work for this. I’m not leavin’ until you open this door.”
Jonelle released the outside lock and opened her door.
A few moments later, the two friends stared at each other.
Jonelle broke the silence first. “Today’s your pink day I see.” She turned, headed to the living room, and flopped down on the couch, leaving Adrienne standing in the doorway.
Adrienne slammed the door shut. She stomped over to Jonelle and glared down at her friend, hands on hips encased in a pink leather mini. A lavender tube top and pale pink linen jacket completed the outfit.
“Well, at least I don’t shop at the House of Gap,” Adrienne retorted, pointing at Jonelle’s yellow sleeveless polo and khaki shorts. Her eyes wandered over to the glass on the floor. She pointed. “Want to talk about it?”
Jonelle shook her head.
“That picture over there just fell off the wall I suppose.”
Jonelle pulled herself up from the couch. Without a word she went to the kitchen and returned with a brush and dustpan. She swept up the shards of glass and broken frame, and after dumping the mess into the waste bin, returned to the sofa.
An awkward silence passed between the two.
“Remember that time in college when we double-dated at the fair and you went with that guy who bragged he could shoot? Remember? And then, when it was obvious he couldn’t hit a target if it was painted on the ass of an elephant, you grabbed the gun and hit the bull’s-eye about twenty times? Remember that?”
Jonelle looked up from the pillow she was clutching and smiled wanly. “I wanted the giant panda bear, and I wasn’t going to get it with the way he was shooting. He was kind of cute, though. I felt bad all that next week when he never called back.”
They laughed at the memory.
Jonelle turned somber. She thought about the police report lying on her desk. There was something familiar about the location of Del’s other business, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“At breakfast this morning, Marvin gave me a copy of a police report. It was about Del.”
Jonelle outlined what was in the report without going into too much detail. Though she trusted her friend, there were some things in it she wasn’t quite ready to disclose.
“Wow,” Adrienne said. “No wonder… never mind. Can I do anything? Have you talked to Sheila? Maybe she can, you know, ask around to see if anyone she knows would’ve heard anything. That being sorta her line of work and all.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Before she leaves tonight, I’ll ask her about it. I know she would’ve told me if she’d heard Del’s name mentioned, but maybe one of her friends or clients knows something about a… ” Jonelle swallowed. She couldn’t bring herself to actually say the words out loud.
Adrienne nodded.
Jonelle checked her watch. She pulled herself up from the couch.
“Look, I need to get to the Laurel racetrack before the last race.”
“Why?”
Without breaking her stride, Jonelle answered, “I have to see if Manross is there.”
Adrienne sighed. “What for?”
“I don’t know if Manross has anything to do with Del’s missing body or Del’s other… whatever… but I intend to find out.”
Jonelle turned and faced her friend. With eyes flashing, she said evenly, “I’m sick of dancing around the edges. This man is going to give me some answers today or… ”
“Or what?” Adrienne asked.
“Or I’ll do whatever it takes to get the information I need from him. Manross is not going to keep jerking me around.”
CHAPTER 14
A deep rumble sounded in the distance. Thick dark clouds formed an ominous line across the western horizon, their color reminding Jonelle of the Beretta nestled in the lockbox of her car. Yet above the parking lot of the suburban racetrack just north of Washington, DC, the sun beamed in the sky. Jonelle stood outside her Jeep, waiting for Adrienne to park.
“Come on, let’s go,” Jonelle urged as Adrienne walked up to her. “I don’t want to miss him.”
“That’s if he’s here at all,” Adrienne grumbled, struggling to keep up.
They hurried across the parking lot. Jonelle frowned at the large number of cars parked there; nearly every space was taken. That meant it would be crowded inside, and she might have a hard time finding Manross.
The two reached the entrance and Jonelle paid for two tickets.
“Hey, hold up a minute.” Adrienne handed the man in the kiosk three dollars for a program. She thumbed a few pages. “Got some real cute names in this one,” she said, following Jonelle up the stairs to the club.
“Thought you were gonna help me find Manross. I don’t think he’s in that program you got there.” Jonelle nodded at the paper in Adrienne’s hand.
“Oh, keep your drawers on. Describe him for me again, so I’ll know who to look for,” Adrienne said, still sc
anning through the pages.
“He’s about, oh, I dunno, five seven, five eight—”
“Little guy, huh,” Adrienne broke in.
Jonelle ignored the comment. “And he’s a little lighter than me, but with pale blue-gray eyes.”
“Blue eyes? You mean like that cute dude used to be on that CSI TV show?”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t call Manross cute. He’s got this funny-looking scar on the right side of his face, like he came out on the losing end of a knife fight. And he’s got a voice like a two-pack-a-day smoker.”
Adrienne looked sideways at her friend, eyes bright with mischief. “Doesn’t sound like too much of a threat to me. ’Course sometimes those little ones can get nasty. Sure you don’t want Marvin to handle this?”
Jonelle shook her head. She gaped at the scene in front of her. The familiar tightness in her chest started to spread. People, mostly men, milled about, their voices loud and indistinct from each other, like drones in a giant beehive. Her knees wobbled, and she grabbed hold of Adrienne’s arm.
“Uh oh,” she wheezed. “It’s really crowded in here.”
Across the expanse of people, Jonelle made out huge floor-to-ceiling windows. She noted where the exits were and willed her breathing to slow down. Relax, she thought. You’ve got work to do.
“How you doin’?” Adrienne asked. “You up for this now, or should we come back later when there may not be so many people?”
Jonelle shook her head. “I’ll be okay.” Her breathing slowed and gradually returned back to normal. “New places do this to me sometimes. Anyway, I don’t need Marvin’s help. I’m not looking to get physical with Manross. If I get in a bind, I’ll just start yelling.”
“And I’ll come running,” Adrienne replied, as they walked around the betting area. “Have you given any thought as to what you’re gonna ask him?”
“I’m just going to tell him I don’t care at this point about the why of what happened.”
“You don’t?”
“Not yet. First I wanna know where Del’s body is. I mean, what if they threw him in the woods somewhere and animals are picking at him or something.” Jonelle shuddered. “In spite of everything, I can’t bear the thought of his remains being scattered all over who knows where.”
As they stopped near the betting windows, Adrienne received her fair share of admiring looks from the men standing in the long lines. She scratched her palm.
“Hey, my left hand’s itchy. That means I’m gonna get some money. I’d like to go over there and place a bet, unless you need me to help you look for Manross.”
“Hmm.” Jonelle searched the faces milling around her.
“Hey, you hearing me? Oh, wait a minute,” Adrienne said, standing on tiptoe. “I think I see someone from the university. Wonder what he’s doing here? If it’s okay with you, I’m gonna run over and say hi.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jonelle waved her friend off and started walking clockwise around the perimeter, not confident enough yet that the closed-in feeling had completely passed. She didn’t feel ready to plunge directly into the throng of people.
Jonelle scrutinized each face as she strolled along the edge of the large room. Nearing the spot where she began, Jonelle spotted Manross.
Dressed in his work clothes, Manross talked to a tall, chunky man, similarly dressed, but in navy blue. The two men stood in front of each other, their faces contorted in anger. Moving in closer, Jonelle recognized the one in blue as the man from the Laughing Moon Saloon. She watched him point his finger in Manross’ face. Manross slapped it away. She edged closer to hear what they were saying.
“Don’t you ever put your fuckin’ finger in my face again, Calvin. Not unless you want to lose it.”
“Lose it how, Manross? What the hell’re you gonna do about it? Seems to me you’ve screwed this deal up good. That… holy shit, I don’t believe it.”
The small group Jonelle hid behind shifted, exposing her to both men. They turned as Jonelle walked up to them.
Manross’ eyes widened in surprise. A few seconds later his face clouded over with anger.
Calvin pointed his finger at Jonelle. “See, this here shit is what I’m talkin’ about,” he said, spitting the words out. “This bitch is gonna mess everything up.”
“Shut up, fool,” Manross hissed.
“Mess what up?”
Neither man answered.
Jonelle eyed the two cemetery workers. “Now, how does this work? One digs the bodies up and the other covers for him? Is that it?” Jonelle asked, her voice tight with anger.
“I got nuthin’ to say to you, lady,” Calvin said.
“Whatever. But I do have some business to discuss with Manross right now, isn’t that right?”
“Business, huh? Right,” Calvin snorted.
Jonelle watched as he stomped away. After a few feet, he stopped and turned. Calvin formed a make-believe gun with his hand and pointed it at Jonelle. He mouthed the word, “pow,” laughed, turned on his heel, and faded into the crowd.
“Nice company you keep, Manross,” Jonelle said, her voice sounding a lot calmer than she felt.
He invaded her personal space but she held her ground. She was pleased she didn’t have to look up at him; the two were practically eye to eye. Her nose twitched. The little man reeked of cigarette smoke, and an underlying odor of something else she didn’t recognize. She sneezed.
“Hey! Watchit!” he shouted, jumping back. “Why the hell don’t you cover your mouth?”
“’Scuse me,” she sniffed, not meaning a word of it. “We, you and me, are going to talk about my husband’s missing body. Right now.”
“What is with you, lady? I keep telling you that I don’t know nuthin’ about what happened to the dude’s body.”
“And I don’t believe you. So I guess you wanna discuss this standing here. Fine with me, I got all day.”
Manross’ eyes darted back and forth. People standing around began staring at them. His eyes locked on something or someone behind Jonelle. Something shifted in his eyes. Was it fear? Or something else?
“What’re you looking at?” She started to turn around.
“Nuthin’,” he said, his tone forcing Jonelle to focus her attention on him again. “Okay, uh… let’s go somewhere else, where we won’t be overheard.”
“Good enough. But, first, let’s get one thing straight. I’m asking the questions, and you’re giving the answers. Those are the rules. Got it?”
Manross shuffled back and forth. “Look, I said let’s discuss this somewhere else. Maybe I do know somethin’,” he whispered. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Come on, already. Let’s git outta here.”
Jonelle hesitated. She wondered if she should go find Adrienne, let her know she was leaving with him. A quick glance around did not reveal her friend, so Jonelle followed Manross to the far left corner of the room and through a side door marked “Members Only.”
On the other side, a long hallway curved off to the left. Across the hall a series of windows bathed the enclosed area in light. A staircase lay to the immediate right of the door they’d just entered. Manross opened the door and moved quickly down two flights of narrow carpeted stairs and out the door at the bottom. Jonelle followed close on his heels.
Outside, sunshine gave way to thickening clouds. The wind kicked up, stirring leaves and causing tree branches to sway. Manross walked briskly, the soles of his work boots thumping on the narrow concrete walkway.
“Hey,” Jonelle called to his back. “Where are we going?”
They approached a chain link fence with a narrow opening. Two rectangular white signs with red letters announced, “Restricted Area.”
He turned around and waited for her to catch up. Manross went through the opening first, with Jonelle close behind. For a few moments, they walked side by side in silence. To Jonelle, the man seemed preoccupied. She held her tongue and swiftly took in her surroundings. As they passed several storage and utility sheds, s
ome new, most old and dilapidated, Jonelle could hear sounds off in the distance ahead, but she saw no one. Jonelle regretted she didn’t alert Adrienne that she was leaving the clubhouse.
As she watched him out of the corner of her eye, it seemed that Manross was weighing how much to tell her. Well, she’d wait him out if necessary.
He turned right from the concrete walk and marched along a narrow dirt footpath. The further they got from the clubhouse, the more nervous Jonelle became.
“Hold up,” she said. “This is far enough. I’ve got some questions to ask you.”
He turned and looked at her, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Let me tell you something, lady,” he said. “I’m gonna answer your questions because you are gettin’ on my very last nerve. And I got a feeling that if I don’t, you’re gonna keep following me around like a fart follows warm beer.”
“I only have one main question to ask you,” Jonelle said, surprised that the man was actually going to let her question him this easily. “What did you do with Del’s body?”
Manross rolled his eyes upward. He sighed heavily. “Lemme explain this to you slowly, since you seem to have a problem understanding. There’s just me, Jorge, and three part-timers that dig graves at Perpetual Rest.” He ticked off each one with his fingers. “On an average week, we got two bodies that need burying or placed in the mausoleum. Yeah, I know,” he said as he noticed the incredulous look on her face, “the cemetery doesn’t look that big, but it is. And Clarkson is actually expanding part of it. You only saw a little bit. The cemetery goes way back behind the church, and Clarkson has permission to take down some trees to use the land to the west.” He crossed his arms. “People die every day, and the community around the Rest is an old one. Not many houses go up for sale—very few young people making tons of money look for homes in the area. What you got instead is an older community with deep roots.”
“That’s nice, but you didn’t answer my question.”
Manross took a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket.
Jonelle thought of the butt she picked up in the cemetery’s parking lot. He was smoking Marlboros, and she didn’t remember if the butt she found had any indication of the brand. She needed to compare the two cigarettes and wondered how she was going to get the one he was smoking.
Burial Plot (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 1) Page 8