“I’ll say this for you, Doc,” she murmured. “You do run a clean and orderly operation.”
Unable to delay any longer the main reason for being in the lab, Jonelle braced herself to do what she came to the lab to do in the first place—search for Del’s body by checking out the cadavers under the sheets.
“Here I go,” she said out loud. “Christine Columbus setting off to explore the dead.” She shuddered. “Easy, Jonelle. You’re startin’ to sound like you’re a few bells short of a jingle.” With arms pinned to her sides, she returned to the middle of the aisle.
Two rows of forms lay under robin’s egg blue sheets. She counted nine forms in each row, laid out on steel dissection tables. Her hands shook. She grasped them together so tightly her knuckles ached.
“Focus on the task,” she said.
The bodies were arranged feet first toward the center. Since the space between the two rows of forms was wide—over twenty feet or so—Jonelle decided to search one row to the end, walk over to the other row, and finish up at the front.
“Okay. Let’s see what’s here.”
Jonelle knew that a person’s hands were one of the body’s most unique features. Except for the face, it was the part of the body people saw and remembered the most.
She delicately lifted the sheet and exposed the right hand of the first cadaver. The pale skin looked a waxy gray. The chubby hand had thick brown hair above and below the knuckles. Jonelle relaxed and moved on to the second body, relieved the initial exam was over. She raised the sheet of the second body and exposed more gray waxy-looking skin and was shocked to see this cadaver had bright red nail polish. Somehow she had always associated nail polish with the living, not the dead.
An unsettling thought struck her. What if the bodies lacked pigmentation because of the chemicals pumped into them? Surely dark pigmented bodies stayed dark. Right? The idea of uncovering the faces in order to find Del filled her with enormous dread.
“I’ll try a few more,” she muttered.
Jonelle continued on to the third body in the row, and stopped. She sensed movement out of the corner of her eye. Her head turned in all directions as she scanned the room. Nothing appeared out of order.
“This place is starting to creep me out.”
She resumed the task at hand. Jonelle lifted the sheet from the third cadaver. Dizziness overcame her as she stared down at the body. The room started spinning. She held onto the end of the platform in an attempt to regain her equilibrium. This cadaver had dark pigmentation. Tightness gripped her chest as if someone had put a hand around her heart and squeezed. She forced herself to look closer. Long, thin fingers flared out from a thin hand and delicate wrist. Definitely not Del. Relieved, yet strangely disappointed, Jonelle gently replaced the sheet and stopped. She cocked her head and listened. What was that?
She moved away from the cadaver and turned toward the sound which emanated from the front of the room. She stared at a spot to the right of the entrance. Something seemed different yet nothing appeared changed.
“Now you’re seeing and hearing things. The faster you get this done, the faster you can get outta here,” she said under her breath.
She hustled over to body number four. Her hand reached out and… there goes that noise again. This time she knew it wasn’t her imagination. She touched the pistol and tried to locate the source of the sound. Jonelle stood immobile as if the act of moving would disturb her concentration and prevent her from determining where the sound originated.
Everything still looked the same, except…
The door was closed.
Jonelle thought she’d left the door open slightly when she entered the lab. Or did she? Did someone, or something, close the door? Was that the sound she heard? And was that metal cabinet always that close to the door? Jonelle nervously counted the forms draped under the sheets. Still eighteen cadavers.
“Hello? Who’s there?”
No response.
The sensation of being watched filled her with dread. The cadavers, the smell, everything added speed to Jonelle’s movements. She finished looking at number four’s hand—with the tip of the pinky finger missing—and rushed over to number five.
As Jonelle reached for the sheet, a loud click resounded through the lab.
Darkness followed.
CHAPTER 32
Jonelle screamed. She pivoted and bumped into the cadaver. Pain shot through her hip.
“Who’s there? What’s going on?” she gasped. Deep laughter hung in the air like fog hovering over a still lake.
“I said, who’s there? What kind of stupid joke are you playing?”
More laughter rumbled through the lab.
“If this is some kind of prank, you’re in big trouble. I’m a security officer on this campus.” The threat sounded weak, even to Jonelle’s ears.
“Security officer? Not tonight you aren’t.”
Sweat popped out on Jonelle’s forehead in spite of the cool air in the lab. Her hands shook. She took several deep breaths of the rancid air and tried not to panic.
“At least turn the lights back on.”
“Hmm. Nope, don’t think so.”
“Why the hell not?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Startin’ to get under your skin, huh? Good.”
Although unable to see anything, Jonelle could tell the speaker was male, and he stood in the front of the room, somewhere around Hammond’s desk.
“How’d you get in here without me seeing you?”
“You are one nosey demandin’ bitch, you know that?”
Jonelle’s stomach dropped. That voice.
“Calvin?”
“Bingo! Give the little lady a prize.”
The stakes were now raised to a level she had not anticipated. Jonelle only wanted to search for Del and then confront the doctor with what she knew and hear his side of the story. But with Calvin in the room playing cat and mouse, all of that changed.
While it wouldn’t be easy getting her bearings in complete darkness, Calvin faced the same circumstances. Before the lights went out, Jonelle stood beside cadaver five. Based on what she remembered of the room’s layout, cadaver fourteen was directly opposite, across the aisle. Cadaver number eighteen was closest to the door leading out into the hall.
Jonelle could not pinpoint Calvin’s precise location, and to ensure her exact position remained a mystery to him, she needed to move. With arms stretched out sideways, Jonelle sidled across the aisle. Her hand nudged what felt like a bookstand. It wobbled but didn’t fall.
“Don’t try it, girlie. I ain’t lettin’ you leave here—you know that, don’t you?”
Footsteps shuffled on the floor. Calvin had changed his position.
Reaching inside herself to fill her voice with a confidence she didn’t feel, she said, “People know I’m here, so whatever you’re planning, it’s not gonna work.”
“That right? I’m guessin’ you went to some trouble to make sure nobody actually saw you come in here.” He chuckled. “So, by the time you’re found, well, it’ll be too late.”
Even though darkness filled the lab, Jonelle closed her eyes and concentrated on the steady hum of the air conditioning unit. She focused on her mantra.
Slow your pulse… slooow your pulse.
Jonelle’s senses remained on high alert. Her wits were the only chance she had of surviving whatever Calvin had planned.
“Just tell me this,” she said, opening her eyes again. “Is my husband someplace in here? In this lab?”
Calvin sighed dramatically. “She never shuts up,” he mumbled. “Tell you what. I ain’t in any hurry, and since you ain’t goin’ noplace neither, what the hell.
“Yeah, the body Manross and the Mexican dug up is in here. Stupid assholes. Diggin’ up the wrong body.” He snorted. “Wasn’t for them, this gravy train woulda just kept on chuggin’ along as usual, an’ I wouldn’t be standin’ here in this stinkin’ death pit, listenin’ to you runnin’ off a
t the mouth.”
He sighed again. “Think of this as Calvin’s version of grantin’ you your last meal. Go ahead, girlie. What else you wanna know?”
Jonelle swallowed hard. Keep the man talking.
“Did you know my husband personally?”
“Naw, lady. Didn’t know the dude. Somebody tole me I prob’ly seen him around the saloon, but I don’t really look at the bodies I bring to the doc. To me, he was just another stiff. Who gives a shit, anyway? Dead is dead.”
Jonelle struggled to control herself. “I give a shit.”
“Good for you.” Calvin snickered. “We usually bring two or three stiffs to Hammond each semester, so all the ones dug up from the Rest are in here.”
An odd feeling of relief mixed with sadness washed over her. At least I’ve found out where he is. She blinked rapidly to prevent the tears in her eyes from flowing down her cheeks.
Now that she had her answer, she wanted to change the subject. Getting angry with the man would get her nowhere. “Did you kill Manross? Or was it Hammond?”
“Hammond?” Calvin laughed. “The doc ain’t gonna get his hands dirty. Naw, he jus’ loaded up the syringe with that junk they got around here. I found me a big ole branch, bashed Manross in the head, and then I poked him with the needle. It was as easy as fartin’ after a big meal. He dropped like a stone, right into the hole.” He chuckled. “’Course, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldnt’ve done it at all. You wouldn’t leave well enough alone. Just kept on nosin’ around.”
“I had a right to know what happened to my husband,” she said, raising her voice. “Anybody would’ve done what I did. Don’t try to blame Manross’ death on me. What I don’t understand is why you had to kill him. Weren’t you all in this together?”
“Manross said he was riskin’ too much, and he wanted more money. Said if he didn’t get it, he might not be able to keep you from goin’ to the cops. We couldn’t let that happen.” Calvin’s voice hardened. “Lady, you was gonna spoil the easiest money I ever made in my life. Diggin’ up bodies nobody cared for in the first place and sellin’ them to the doc.”
Footsteps scraped on the floor.
“Hell, way I look at it, I’m doin’ my part for educatin’ the young.” The sound of Calvin’s voice shifted. He had moved closer.
“I got other customers besides Hammond. Not just in Maryland, but DC and Virginia. Like to spread myself around, give ever’body a fair shake. Money’s good. Couldn’t afford the Jag just diggin’ graves. And then you came along like a rat sniffin’ out garbage.”
“Maybe that’s what I’ve found,” she shot back, then immediately regretted it.
“Oooo, aren’t we the clever one? We’ll just see who’s gonna end up like garbage when this is over.”
A sudden realization hit her. Calvin was using the sound of her voice to pinpoint her position. Jonelle didn’t reply. Instead, she stooped down, used her hands as a guide, and eased around the bookstand. If her memory of the lab’s layout was correct, next to the bookstand a dissection table supported cadaver number fourteen. Two bit bins sat underneath the table on a small shelf. Jonelle felt around and grabbed the closest container.
“What the hell’re you doing?”
She stood and with both hands threw the bin hard to her right. It clattered against something solid and crashed to the floor.
Calvin fired at the noise, the report of his gun echoing throughout the lab. The gunfire confirmed her worst fears—he was armed.
Jonelle knew a person usually fired from a standing position, especially if they assumed the individual they were shooting at wasn’t armed. She had every intention of defending herself against this crazy person. She crouched and removed the Beretta from her waistband and released the safety.
“I ain’t playin’ with you, lady. You wanna make this hard, fine. Results are gonna be the same.”
Jonelle needed to get to the door.
Jonelle stood as quietly as possible and slid her hands along the sheet that covered the cadaver. She extended her arms out to the sides, and crept soundlessly to the left.
Why was it still so dark? Where’s the damn light I saw in the back before?
With a sinking feeling, Jonelle realized the light she’d seen in the alcove earlier was off.
“Okay. Game time’s over, lady. I got places to go, people to see.”
Jonelle didn’t respond.
She kept moving and stopped when she touched something solid. She had reached the far wall. Her fingers explored a cool, smooth object. It must be the whiteboard. Jonelle lowered her hand and felt around the narrow ledge. Her hand wrapped around a hard, rectangular object. Jonelle flung it toward the front where she thought Calvin stood. It landed against something solid with a thud and fell to the floor.
“Hey! What the fuck!” Calvin fired again. The shot whizzed high above her head.
Jonelle ducked back down.
“You’re really startin’ to piss me off, bitch,” he shouted. “You think hidin’ behind a few dead bodies is gonna get you outta here in one piece?” His voice broke on those last few words. Some of the bravado Calvin displayed earlier faded from his voice.
Good. If she could keep him off balance, maybe she’d be able to get out of this mess alive.
By her own reckoning, Jonelle figured she stood next to cadaver number sixteen. Only two more positions away to the classroom door and freedom. Jonelle crab walked forward a few steps. The promise of freedom also meant getting closer to Calvin, but it was a chance she had to take.
From what she remembered, a skeleton hung nearby. In order to use it as a diversion, she’d have to risk further exposure.
Jonelle felt around for the skeleton’s support pole opposite the whiteboard.
“What’re you doin’? Answer me, bitch!”
She fumbled around for the wheel lock, found it, and flipped it up, soundlessly unlocking all of the wheels. Afraid she would not have enough leverage to move the skeleton quickly from the bottom with one hand, Jonelle made a decision. In spite of the peril involved, she stood. Her left hand traced the sharp spine and followed the bones up to the neck. The skeleton felt substantial enough to create a good deal of noise.
Jonelle grasped the pole near the top. As she turned slightly to the right, the skeleton moved. The tinkling noise filled the lab as if there were a hundred skeletons, all shifting at once.
Calvin fired.
Jonelle screamed as searing pain exploded in her upper left arm. Blood flowed warm and sticky, down her arm. She slumped over on top of the cadaver.
Hysterical laughter filled the lab.
“Gotcha!”
Jonelle pushed against the cadaver to right herself. Wincing with pain, she raised the pistol still clutched in her right hand. Unable to use her left hand for support, she willed all of the strength she could muster into her gun hand and pointed the weapon straight ahead and thirty degrees to the right.
The darkness slowly faded in the lab as the lights came up.
Objects took shape. She blinked rapidly to clear the tears that threatened to blur her vision. Jonelle made out a form behind Hammond’s desk. She shifted position.
Calvin turned at the sound.
In the dim light she saw his eyes widen. He raised his arm, gun in hand and aimed at her.
Jonelle fired.
Calvin’s mouth opened in a soundless scream as a dark stain erupted from his chest. He dropped to the ground, his gun clattering to the floor.
Jonelle tried to ignore the hot pain throbbing in her arm, and cautiously approached his body. Calvin lay motionless. She kicked his gun away. With her left arm hanging loosely at her side, she placed her gun on the desk, reached down, and felt his neck for a pulse. It was weak, but Calvin was still alive.
Jonelle stared at the ever-widening stain covering his chest, more proof his heart was still pumping. As the full force of what she’d done hit her, she leaned over Hammond’s desk and vomited until there was nothing left except
dry heaves.
“I’ve gotta get out of here,” she said as if each word required tremendous effort. Jonelle grimaced at the foul taste in her mouth. She wiped away the vomit with the end of her shirt grabbed her gun and stumbled out of the lab. The intensity of the bright overhead basement lights almost forced her back into the lab, but she continued down the hall.
A steady stream of blood ran down her arm. She shoved the gun in her pocket, clamped her free hand against the gash, and resisted the urge to look at the wound, fearful that if she did, that would somehow make the pain worse.
After tripping and falling on the stairs, Jonelle finally arrived on the main floor. No one was around. She weaved from side to side down the corridor, which seemed longer than usual. Jonelle stopped twice to catch her breath before reaching the end of the hall. She leaned against the heavy door and pushed it open just wide enough to slide through.
Outside, the warm air did nothing to help her dizziness. Through blurred vision, Jonelle made out the headlights of an approaching car. As it passed, she saw the word Security on the side.
With legs heavy as lead, Jonelle staggered to the street.
“Wait!”
Her voice sounded far away, as if it belonged to someone else. “Come back.”
The car kept going.
Everything around her started spinning.
The last thought she had before she collapsed was why didn’t it stop?
CHAPTER 33
A tall figure draped in a long, black coat stood over her. A hood concealed the face. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The shape reached down and grabbed her arm, squeezing it so hard it felt as if the bones were being crushed. She struggled but couldn’t break free. The shadow pulled a long knife from the folds of the coat, raised the weapon, and brought it down again and again, stabbing her over and over. Blood spurted everywhere.
God, the pain!
Jonelle groaned.
“I think she’s waking up, Marvin.”
The sound of her aunt’s voice encouraged Jonelle to open her eyes. The harsh fluorescent lights forced them closed again.
Burial Plot (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 1) Page 22