Adrienne added, “Speaking of damage. When I got to the lab that night, I noticed vomit on the desk. Jonelle, did you puke all over Hammond’s pristine desk?”
Embarassed, Jonelle nodded. “Yes. Hate to admit it, but when I saw Calvin lying there and realized I could’ve been killed, the horror of it all traveled up from my stomach and out of my mouth. So much for wanting to be a cop. Guess I don’t have what it takes after all.”
“If you had felt nothing,” Marvin said, reaching over and taking Jonelle’s hand in both of his, “we would’ve escorted you directly from the hospital room to the psych ward.”
Jonelle didn’t say anything for several moments. No longer hungry, she pushed her plate away.
“Well,” she said, removing her hand, “seems like I may be unemployed for a while. Good thing I’ve got some money saved.”
She took stock of the sad expressions on everyone’s faces. “I know I messed things up, but, frankly, except for maybe telling a few more people what I was up to, I’d do pretty much the same thing all over again.”
Teresa spoke up. “I know you would, Jonnie. That’s why your uncle has an idea.”
All eyes settled on Marvin.
“One of my employees is leaving in a few days to go back to school full time,” he said. “Wants to be a forensics tech instead of working as a private investigator. Damn CSI crap, he was a good worker.”
“Get to the point,” Teresa said.
“Right. Anyway, I’ve got an opening for an investigator, so I figure, why not hire you? In spite of everything, you proved you can handle yourself in extremely stressful situations. And this way I can keep my eye on you.”
A lump formed in the back of Jonelle’s throat. “Really?” She cleared her throat. “I can work for you?”
Marvin nodded.
Grinning from ear to ear at everyone seated around the table, she shouted with joy. “Awesome! The experience is just what I need. You can give me whatever cases need handling, no matter what it is, I—”
“Slow down, Jonelle,” her uncle said. “You’ll be on probation for six months, just like any other employee, and during that time you’ll mostly handle surveillance. I always start my new hires out that way.”
“I’ll do my best for you, don’t worry. Who knows? Maybe in a few years the sign on the office door will change.”
Marvin looked puzzled. “Change? Why would it change?”
“Can’t you see it?” Jonelle asked, a sly look on her face. “Instead of just Shorter Investigations, how about Shorter and Sweet Investigations.”
Once the laughter subsided and everyone had finished their dessert, Teresa and Adrienne cleared away the dishes. Jonelle got up from the table and walked over to the bookcase where the brass urn containing Del’s ashes rested. Her hand gently brushed the vase’s cool, smooth surface.
“I’ve been thinking that he needs to be somewhere other than resting next to some books, and no way am I putting him in another cemetery. I finally figured out a good place, and I want you all to come.”
CHAPTER 36
The sun blazed across the cloudless sky. Gentle breezes carried soft murmurs around the open space. Jonelle left the gate to the security fence open so guests could gather in her backyard to once again pay their last respects to Delbert Sweet. Most of them heeded her “please dress casual” request on this unusually warm day. Everyone either stood in groups of three or four or sat around an assortment of tables and chairs with food and drink in their hands.
Jonelle had invited them to attend her goodbye service for Del, although, truth be told, most of the guests were her friends, not his. While it made her a little sad at the lack of any of his close associates in attendance, she was still glad to see most of her friends wanted to pay their last respects.
She walked over to one of the three picnic tables that Marvin and Tyrone arranged on the patio. An array of food covered the table’s surface. The aroma of casseroles and other prepared dishes mingled nicely with the sweet smells of homemade pies and cakes. Jonelle smiled to herself, glad about the tradition of bringing food to the deceased’s widow.
Someone tapped her on the arm. Jonelle turned and looked down at Kenny standing there, covered dish in hand.
“My mom dropped me off and told me to give you this.” He held out the dish to Jonelle. “She had to work today but wanted me to tell you that if you need anything to let her know.”
“Thanks, Kenny.”
“It’s lasagna and it’s really good. Just about the best thing she makes.”
Jonelle smiled down at the twelve-year-old and took the still warm container from his hands. She rearranged some of the food and placed the lasagna between a large tray of cut vegetables and a bowl of fruit salad.
“Be sure to tell your mom thank you. Sorry she couldn’t make it, but I’m glad you’re here.” Jonelle affectionally squeezed his arm.
Kenny shuffled from one foot to the other. He pointed to Jonelle’s left arm, still in a sling.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Not much. My physical therapist says I should be able to remove this thing next week.”
“That’s good.” Hands thrust inside his jean’s pockets, Kenny eyeballed the different clusters of people.
Jonelle figured the young man had pretty much exhausted his grown up talk and helped him out. “Grab a plate and some utensils, Kenny, and help yourself to whatever you want. As you can see, we’ve got plenty of food.”
“Cool.”
She pointed over to a small group of people standing and talking to her right. Next to the group were two boys around Kenny’s age.
“Go on over and introduce yourself. The taller one is Michael, and the one with the red shirt is Anthony.”
Jonelle left the boy to pile his plate with food, and turned in time to see Franklin and Mathilda Brobish approach. Franklin carried a slow cooker.
Mathilda spread her arms wide and embraced Jonelle. “How are you feeling, dearie?”
“I’m good, Mathilda.”
Franklin made room for the pot on the table.
“Really?” Mathilda reached up and placed her hand on Jonelle’s cheek.
Jonelle nodded.
“Well, considering all you’ve been through, if there’s anything Franklin and I can…” Mathilda looked past Jonelle and frowned. Jonelle followed her gaze. “ Franklin!” Mathilda shouted.
Franklin jumped at the sound of his wife’s voice. He reluctantly moved away from Sheila and slumped back toward his wife.
“Honestly,” she hissed. “We’re here for Jonelle, not for you to—”
“Food smells good, Mathilda,” Jonelle interrupted. The last thing she wanted was an argument between her elderly neighbors. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yep,” Franklin replied. “My famous meatballs. I know how much you like ‘em. Anytime you want me to make you a batch, just let me know.”
Jonelle leaned over and kissed Franklin lightly on the cheek. “You guys are the best. Help yourself to whatever you like,” she said. “Behind this table are coolers of bottled water, soda, and also beer if you’d like something stronger.”
“Water’s fine,” Mathilda said. Her stare forced him to replace the bottle of beer he’d picked up.
“What pretty flowers,” Mathilda added, indicating another picnic table. On top were several small plastic pots of yellow, lavender, and white mums.
“Those are for later,” Jonelle said. “My uncle Marvin and my co-worker, I mean, former co-worker, Tyrone ‘double dug’ the flower bed on the south wall, so the dirt’s nice and soft.” Noticing the puzzled looks on the Brobish’s faces, she added, “I’ll explain in a few minutes. Excuse me.”
She left the couple to fill their plates, and wandered over to where Sheila, Adrienne, and Tyrone stood around talking, drinks in hand.
“Nice sized crowd you’ve got,” Adrienne said. “I’m surprised we all fit back here. Hope I brought enough deli wraps.”
“There’s more than enough food,” Jonelle said. She pointed to Adrienne’s outfit. “Is that your idea of dressing casual?”
Adrienne stared down at her rust-colored leggings, topped by an orange, yellow, and white checkered tunic top. “Look, girlfriend, this is as casual as I get out in public. What’s going on, anyway?” She squinted at Jonelle. “Am I gonna have to get my hands dirty? Is that what the flowers are for?” Adrienne fanned acrylic nails, done in a starburst of orange and gold in front of her eyes. “Not so sure my nails can take it.”
Sheila smiled, and Tyrone started to laugh until he caught the look on Adrienne’s face.
Jonelle pointed to her neighbor. “Sheila had the right idea.”
Sheila wore jeans and a white cotton sleeveless blouse. Even casually dressed, she radiated elegance. Those who didn’t know her would never guess the woman’s profession.
Jonelle’s eyes roamed over the guests and stopped at Marvin and Teresa, sitting next to Gordon Tankersley. She caught his eye. He smiled and lifted his bottle of beer in a salute.
“Be back in a minute,” Jonelle said to her friends. She ambled over to the detective.
“Glad you could make it. And congratulations. I hear you are officially retired.”
Tankersley took a generous swig of beer before responding. “Yep, I am officially free of any and all responsibility to the county police department. Cleaned out my boat, organized my tackle box, and plan to go fishing as often as I can. I’m trying to convince the old man here to join me.”
Marvin smiled. “Some of us still have jobs, you know.”
“With this young lady joining the business,” Tankersley responded, gesturing toward Jonelle, “I’m guessing you can retire yourself pretty soon. Isn’t that right, Teresa?”
Teresa stared back in mock horror. “Marvin? Retired? He doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”
“I’d get bored,” he said. “Still, maybe I will take you up on the offer to go fishing on that boat of yours.”
“Anytime. Just gimme a call.”
Jonelle took advantage of the break in the conversation and looked tentatively at the detective. “I know you’re not involved anymore, but… um… have you heard anything else about Del’s case?”
“Jonelle,” Marvin said in a stern voice, “Gordon’s through with all that.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Tankersley replied. “Fact is, I do have a bit of news on the two cases involving Del from Stan Eiser.”
“You mean there’s more than one case?” Teresa frowned. She stared at Marvin.
He patted her hand. “I’ll fill you in later. Go on Gordon.”
“Both Ms. Montgomery and Mr. Chasson have been charged on several counts of solicitation, as well as violating several child endangerment laws. Unfortunately Jonelle, you may be called as a witness since Del was your husband. Their lawyers are pleading not guilty. Sorry,” he said.
Jonelle shrugged. “Not your fault. I’ve already come to terms with what he did. What about an update of what happened at the med school?”
“Seems like Cornelius Manross had a niece and nephew who actually worked at the university,” Tankersley said. “The niece was some kinda clerk but the nephew worked in maintenance. Detectives are looking into whether there’s a connection to them and how those extra bodies actually ended up inside the lab.”
Jonelle slapped the table, making the plates jump. “I knew it! I figured someone on the inside must have had something to do with this.”
“Remember when you came to the office and I introduced you to Thelonius Burton?”
Jonelle nodded.
“He’s working the cases with Eiser now, so give him a call. He won’t be able to tell you everything, but he’ll keep you in the loop.”
Jonelle planted a quick peck on Tankersley’s cheek, excused herself, and headed back to where Tyrone and Adrienne were still talking. Jonelle looked around but didn’t see Sheila.
“You know, I thought this day would make me really sad,” Jonelle said as she joined the group, “but seeing everybody here, I feel good about today.”
“Hmm,” Adrienne said, frowning at her hands.
“Stop worrying about breaking a nail,” Tyrone said. “Marvin and I dug the dirt several times and added some peat moss, so the soil is very soft and easy to work in. You shouldn’t have any trouble.”
Jonelle added, “In case you’re that worried, Adrienne, I managed to find a lot of garden gloves from the dollar store. They’re on the table with the flowers. Next to the mums are some trowels. Those who want to participate will share those.”
Adrienne beamed at her friend. “Works for me.”
Minor problem averted, Jonelle looked around her yard.
“Where’d Sheila go? Poor Mathilda has had enough trouble keeping Franklin away from her,” Jonelle said.
Almost as if on cue, Sheila emerged from inside Jonelle’s condo. Jonelle gestured toward her upstairs neighbor, who carried a Bose music system.
“You brought music?” Jonelle asked.
“I brought Hamilton,” Sheila responded.
“You mean that cutie won’t be here in the flesh? Bummer,” Adrienne lamented.
Sheila grinned and patted Adrienne’s arm. “He’s here in spirit.”
“Spirit?” Adrienne said. “I can’t do anything with his spirit.”
“I’m here,” Tyrone said. “Will I do?”
“Not the same thing,” Adrienne grumbled.
“Anyway,” Sheila said, “Hamilton has something special for Jonelle.” Gliding over to the table with the plants, Sheila placed the Bose down. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
“In a minute.” Jonelle took a deep breath. “I just want to say a few words first.”
She moved over to the center of the yard. “Everyone, can I have your attention, please?”
The talking slowly died down, and all eyes turned toward Jonelle.
“I want to thank you all for coming. It warms my heart to see everyone here.” She paused. “I will always think of Del with a smile, grateful that he gave me so much joy in so little time. I’ll walk out in this garden and gaze at the place where he’s resting and know that, for however briefly, I loved and was loved in return.
“Before I ask those of you who would like to come get a flower from the table to plant in the garden where Del’s ashes are buried, I think Sheila has something from Hamilton.” Jonelle turned and faced Sheila.
Sheila nodded. “Hamilton is in concert in London, but he wanted to share this with Jonelle.”
Sheila touched the play button. The rich, warm sounds of his cello filled the air.
People smiled at each other. Some began to hum, and a few softly sang the well-known words to “Somewhere Over The Rainbow.”
“Perfect, just perfect,” Jonelle whispered. She picked up a bright yellow mum and walked over to her husband’s final resting place.
The End
Dedication
For my mother, Lola and my sister Tracy,
I wish you were here to share the joy.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank all the members of my Dreamweavers Ink family for their insightful and honest critiques. You helped make my words sound better on the page. A special thank you goes to the group’s fearless leader, author P.J. O’Dwyer for her expertise and words of encouragement. Thanks also to editor Amy Harke-Moore for steering me in the right direction.
About the Author
R. Lanier Clemons was born in Vermillion Parish, Louisiana and was employed as a corporate journalist for several years. She lives in Maryland with good friends Lucy the cat and Ramsey the horse.
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Burial Plot (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 1) Page 24