“Hey!” Adrienne called, rushing toward them. “Just where the hell you been?”
She stopped. Her eyes travelled from Jonelle’s wrapped head to Hector.
Hector smiled broadly when he saw Adrienne up close.
“What happened to your head? And who is that?” she asked, jabbing her finger in Hector’s direction.
“Stop yelling. I hurt my head and Hector helped me. I’ll explain everything when we get back to my place. Thanks, Hector. I’m fine now.”
Hector didn’t move. A big grin covered his whole face—his big brown eyes never left Adrienne.
“It’s okay, Hector. You can go now.”
Reluctantly, Hector turned to go, a big loopy smile still on his face. He glanced once over his shoulder and waved.
Jonelle waved back.
Before Jonelle could ask, Adrienne got behind the wheel of the Jeep, and Jonelle eased into the passenger seat.
“Hangin’ out with you lately is starting to make me feel like I’m Annie Oakley at the OK Corral—a little stressed, you know?” Adrienne rammed the key into the ignition.
“First, one of the instructors from school totally acted like he didn’t know who I was. He practically ran away from me when I tried to say hi. Who the hell cares what he does on his own time? And second, I lost twenty bucks.”
“Annie Oakley wasn’t at the OK Corral,” Jonelle mumbled.
“Oh, whatever. Wanna know what I think?”
“Not really.”
“I think they give these horses those little cutesy names just so people can put their hard-earned money on them. Why else would they name an animal Coco-Loco? And the icing on the cake of my day is when you showed up with your head wrapped like a mummy.” Adrienne peeled out of the parking lot. “I don’t think my blood pressure can take much more of this.”
While stopped at a traffic light, Adrienne turned around and looked back the way they came. “Think my car will be all right here?”
“Sure. I’ll call Marvin when I get home and ask him if he can send someone over to my place to drive you back out here tonight.”
“Okay,” Adrienne said, relaxing a little.
Jonelle leaned against the headrest. “Manross set me up,” she said, eyes closed and voice barely above a whisper.
“Huh? What do you mean? Did he do this to you?”
Jonelle slowly shook her head.
“He didn’t actually push me into that shed.” She opened her eyes and looked over at Adrienne. “But he knows who did.”
CHAPTER 16
Jonelle’s head throbbed all the way home, and she felt tired and weary. Not from the superficial head wound she had sustained in the shed, but from a sense that in this odd give and take between her and Manross, she was the one doing all of the giving.
She allowed Manross to take control of the situation at the racetrack and ended up in a dark, dusty old storage shed. She revealed more information than she should have about Del. Manross took what she gave him and offered no useful information in return.
Adrienne parked the Jeep in Jonelle’s assigned spot, and they got out.
Shuffling up the concrete walk to her building, Jonelle stumbled. Adrienne grabbed her arm to keep her from falling.
“I’m not crippled. I can walk!” Jonelle snapped, snatching her arm from Adrienne’s grasp. Adrienne frowned, opened her mouth, then shut it again. Jonelle lowered her voice and added, “Sorry, didn’t mean it like that. I appreciate the help, but I’m feeling a little better now.”
“I’ll see you inside just to be sure. Besides, remember I need to call Marvin so I can go back and get my car.” They stopped next to one of the exterior lights that lined the sidewalk.
“Oh damn, Adrienne, I forgot. Would you rather I drive you?”
“I don’t think it’s safe for you to drive yet.” Adrienne held up her index and middle finger. “How many fingers do you see?”
Jonelle sighed. “Two. Just let me relax a bit, and then we can go get your car.”
“No can do. I’m calling Marvin and that’s final.” Adrienne looked at her watch. “Think he’s still at work? I’d hate to bother him at home.”
“Got an idea. I’ll call Tyrone instead. He won’t mind, and that will save us having to explain anything to my uncle.”
Jonelle led the way into the building. She fished out her door key and paused outside her condo. She turned to Adrienne. “Let’s go up and see if Sheila’s in.”
“Now? I thought you wanted to rest.”
Jonelle pushed past Adrienne and trudged up the stairs to Sheila’s apartment.
While Jonelle knocked, Adrienne tiptoed across the landing.
She leaned over and put her ear to the closed door. “I don’t hear anything,” she whispered. “Think that cute Mr. Yee is home?” A deep bass note hummed from within. Startled, Adrienne scurried back to Jonelle’s side.
“Oh, will you leave Hamilton alone? Every time you see him, you have to get in his face. It’s embarrassing.”
“To him or you?” Adrienne asked.
“Both of us.”
Jonelle started to knock again when Sheila’s door opened.
Sheila stood in front of them wearing a floor-length sage green silk kimono with pale peach calla lilies embroidered on the shawl collar and lapel. The wide sash belted tightly around Sheila’s waist was the same color as the robe. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was damp and her face devoid of makeup. Sheila’s hazel eyes widened in surprise when she noticed the bandage on Jonelle’s head.
“What on earth happened to you? Are you all right?”
“I’ll explain it to you in great detail. Is it okay if we come in for a while? That is, if we’re not disturbing you,” Jonelle said.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.” Sheila stepped aside. “Come on in, girls. ‘Scuse my appearance, but I just got out of the shower.”
Jonelle and Adrienne followed Sheila inside.
“Wow!” Adrienne said, pointing to the cream-colored suede couch set against the far wall. “That’s beautiful. When did you get it? Last time I was here you had a green and white striped one.”
“It’s been what, three weeks since you were last here?” Sheila asked, leading the women to the kitchen off to the left of the entrance. She motioned for Jonelle and Adrienne to take a seat around the highly polished kitchen table. “I’ve had the new sofa for about as long now, and the cream-colored leather chair and ottoman, too. The stripes on the old couch were making me feel like I was in some kind of cage.” She glanced sideways at the two women. “A little too much like work, you know?”
Adrienne giggled. “Girlfriend, you are too much.”
Smiling, Sheila added, “How about I get us some cheese and crackers while Jonnie fills me in on what happened.”
“Don’t go to any trouble on my account. I just stopped by to talk to you for a few minutes.”
Sheila waved Jonelle’s comments away. “What trouble? I’m dying to know what the heck happened.”
“Well, everything started getting weird the day I went to the cemetery and discovered Del’s body was missing.”
Sheila stopped in the middle of uncorking a bottle of wine, turned and stared at Jonelle. “Missing? What do you mean, he’s missing?”
Over a glass of wine, Jonelle told Sheila what happened at the cemetery, how she ended up in a darkened shed, and finally rescued by a racetrack worker.
Sheila refilled Jonelle’s wineglass. “Wow. Sounds like you’ve been a busy girl.”
She tipped the bottle of wine in front of Adrienne. “Top that off for you?”
Adrienne shook her head. “No thanks. I’m good.”
They sat around the table, drinking wine and munching on brie and crackers. Each woman seemed lost in her own thoughts as the silence around the table stretched on.
After a few moments, Sheila got up, went to the freezer, and took out a foil-wrapped pie plate. “Crab and mushroom quiche,” she said in answer to her guests puzz
led looks. “It’ll just take about twenty minutes or so to bake.”
Sheila set the timer on the oven. “Now, back to that wound on your head, don’t you think you should call the police?” she asked, meeting Jonelle’s eyes.
“And tell them what? I want you to arrest this man ’cause he watched someone push me? Oh, and by the way, Mr. Policeman, could you also find out what he did with my husband’s body? Manross is right about one thing—people will probably believe Del’s just not where I thought he should be.”
Sheila frowned. “You certain about that? I sure as hell believe you.”
“Thanks.” Jonelle rested her chin in her hands. “I’m not convinced of anything, anymore.”
Adrienne pointed to Jonelle. “See what I’m dealing with here? That bump on her head didn’t shake up any common sense. The entire way over here I kept saying, ‘you need to call the police’ and she kept refusing.”
Jonelle sat back and folded her arms. “This is my battle.”
Sheila walked over and patted Jonelle on the shoulder. “No offense, Jonnie, but from what I’ve heard so far, it seems like Manross is the one winning.”
“That’s only up to this point,” she said, her eyes shining. “And it’s only because I’ve been approaching this all wrong. I’ve been the victim because I haven’t been proactive. I haven’t had a plan.”
Adrienne and Sheila exchanged glances.
“Do you have a plan now?” Sheila asked.
“Well, no, not yet, but I will. As soon as I think of one.” Jonelle drained her glass. She looked around the kitchen with its ultramodern chrome appliances and glanced at her reflection in the refrigerator’s polished exterior. Jonelle tentatively fingered the wound. She wondered how Marvin would react when she told him what happened.
“There’s more to this than just Manross and his involvement with Del’s missing body and why I was pushed into that building,” Jonelle said. She took a deep breath. “I think maybe Del was involved in something kind of, sort of, illegal.”
“Kind of? Sort of?” Adrienne interrupted.
Jonelle shot her a pointed look. Adrienne sipped her wine.
“Marvin said the police were watching Del,” Jonelle continued. “They thought—that is, they suspected—that he was involved in a so-called escort service. And that some of the so-called employees were underage.”
“Oh shit,” Sheila said.
“Yeah,” Adrienne said. “My thoughts exactly.”
“I was wondering,” Jonelle said, “if you could see what, if anything, you could find out about… it.”
Sheila’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t go there, Jonnie. You know that,” she said evenly. “I’m not involved with kids, no how, no way. And neither are my friends.”
“Yes, of course I know you’d never do anything to put a child in harm’s way,” Jonelle said. “All I’m suggesting is, if it’s at all possible, could you find out if one of your clients, or even an associate, may have heard something about a sex ring operating somewhere in the county.”
The oven pinged. Sheila grabbed some oven mitts.
“Damn that smells good,” Adrienne said as the warm, buttery aroma, with a hint of sweetness underneath, filled the kitchen and helped lighten the mood.
“Once it’s cooled a bit, I’m cutting us all a huge slice.”
Jonelle smacked the table. Adrienne jumped and Sheila nearly dropped the quiche.
“I’ve got it!” she shouted.
“Got what?” Sheila quickly placed the quiche on the counter.
“Whatever ‘it’ is, could you get it a little quieter?” Adrienne replied, her hand over her heart.
“Uh, does ‘it’ mean that you have a plan, Jonnie?” Sheila asked.
“The beginnings of one, but I may need a little help from both of you.” She looked from Sheila to Adrienne. “I promise not to get you involved in anything dangerous. Sheila, if you come across someone who may have heard about Del or his other business, could you ask if they’d be willing to talk to me? Strictly confidential, of course.”
“Sure, no problem,” Sheila said. “I only have two clients tonight, and they’re both into this Wonder Woman thing, so—”
Adrienne squealed with delight. “You’re going as Wonder Woman? That is waaaay cool.”
Sheila pointed to the costume draped over the living room chair. “You want to try it on? It’s okay by me. I’ve got a few hours yet before I need to get ready.”
“Oh, don’t encourage her,” Jonelle said, trying hard not to smile.
Adrienne ran and grabbed the costume and headed for the bathroom. “Be back in a jif.”
Sheila walked over to one of the glass-fronted cabinets and pulled three plates from the shelf. She sliced the quiche and set a piece in front of each place at the table.
“Want some coffee? I was gonna make some anyway,” she said. “You okay talking about all this?”
Jonelle nodded. “I’m pretty much all cried out. And, sure, I’ll have a cup.”
Sheila filled the coffee grinder with beans. “All I’ve got now is some Colombian Roast. Hope that’s okay.”
Jonelle shook her head. “You’re amazing. Tell you the truth, anything hot and caffeinated would be all right with me.”
After the coffee beans were ground to a slow-drip texture, Sheila filled the coffee maker.
“How you and Adrienne manage to stay so tiny is beyond me,” Jonelle said.
“I meant to mention this when you came in, but you look like you’re losing a bit of weight yourself. Now, tell me what you know about Del and his involvement in this prostitution thing. Do the police have any actual proof?” Sheila placed the coffee pot in the middle of the table. She set out mugs, sugar bowl, and creamer, and sat next to Jonelle.
“I only know what’s in the copy of the police report Marvin gave me.” Jonelle added cream to her coffee and took a few generous swallows before continuing.
“A detective friend of his, Gordon Tankersley, gave it to him as a courtesy. Del and I met him at a cookout at Marvin’s in July, and so when he heard the name Delbert Sweet, it rang a bell. Basically, the police not only had Del, but also a black woman and a white man, under surveillance. A police informant had tipped the vice squad off to the possibility of a prostitution ring posing as an escort service. A few that worked there were boys and girls between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. Apparently there’s a high demand for that kind of thing.” Jonelle shuddered and looked down into her coffee cup.
Sheila reached for the pot of coffee. “Want some more?”
Jonelle nodded. “Just a little, thanks. One of the young boys—I think he was sixteen—was picked up after a complaint from a hotel manager. He was a recent runaway and a novice at this, not to mention scared out of his mind. He allegedly told the cops all about Del and his partners and gave them the address where he and the others lived. It was kind of a group house thing. The police started watching the place and tracking all of the adults’ movements, and that’s where the report left off.”
Sheila looked at Jonelle over the rim of her cup and waited for her to continue.
“Anyway, after I read the report, something about the address sounded familiar to me, but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’ll ring a bell with you.” Jonelle felt her face flush. She couldn’t believe she was sitting in a friend’s home, associating her late husband’s name with prostitution. “Hell, I didn’t think adults turned tricks around here, much less kids.”
Sheila ate a few forkfuls of quiche and said, “Unfortunately, this area attracts a lot of runaways and throwaways.”
“Throwaways?”
“Those are kids whose parents kick them out of the house for one reason or another. Most big cities have kids like these. And since we’re situated between two large metropolitan areas—Baltimore and DC—well, they come to the area in droves.”
Jonelle took a small bite of the pie. “This is delicious,” she said. Putting her fork down, she leaned back in her seat.
Something didn’t seem right. “Would the kids come this far out considering we’re in the suburbs, not the city?”
“That’s exactly why some perv, er, people think that if they set up shop away from urban areas, no one will be the wiser. Besides, while pimps may get their victims from the city and the kids may ply their trade in the city, that doesn’t mean the operation has to be run from there. What with smartphones, text messaging, and other social media, the pimps can run their businesses anywhere. The more professional types don’t need to drive around in purple Cadillacs anymore. Did Del operate out of that address mentioned in the report?”
Jonelle shrugged. No one spoke for a few moments. “The information Marvin gave me says the police were about ready to raid the house when Del’s accident happened. I don’t know if they went through with it or not. Or if they did, what they found. I don’t even know the names of the other two partners involved.”
“Interesting. There are a few ladies I work with who also handle real estate. Give me the address you have. I’ll ask them if they know who owns or rents the property.”
“That would be great,” Jonelle said. “This whole thing is making me feel like I’m in the middle of an inner city game of pick-up basketball, and I’m the ball.” She ate more quiche.
“Hey,” Adrienne said, returning to the kitchen. “You guys started without me. What do you think?” She twirled around in full costume.
Both women erupted in laughter.
“Ohmigod,” Jonelle gasped. “Lookit you!”
“I think I look pretty good,” Adrienne sniffed.
“I think it’s the long, black wig, and the pointy gold headband with red star that really sets it off. Don’t you think, Sheila?”
“Nope. I think it’s the red and gold bustier, which, if you don’t mind my saying, looks a bit big for you Adrienne.”
Jonelle added, “I dunno. Those blue briefs with the white stars are bitchin’.”
“Oh, whatever. I think you’re both jealous,” Adrienne said.
Jonelle pointed to the red boots over by the living room chair. “How come you didn’t put those on? You know, complete the outfit?”
“They’re too small, smartass. I don’t need this grief. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom—hope you don’t mind Sheila—and I think I look great.”
Burial Plot (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 1) Page 10