The Trickster (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 3)

by R. Lanier Clemons

  The blue Ford put on its left turn signal and drove down a narrow dirt drive. A rustic sign announced the community park with another replica of a moose carved into the wood, taking up half of the signage. Jonelle followed Ayasha onto a paved lot and parked next to her. Three other vehicles, all pickup trucks, filled the rest of the lot.

  Both women pulled over at the same time. Ayasha pointed to a picnic table in a small clearing. “We can sit over there,” she said.

  Jonelle got in step with Ayasha. Neither woman said anything until they sat down across from each other.

  “I hear you’re investigating Susanna’s death,” Ayasha said. “That right?”

  Jonelle knew word travelled fast in small towns, but even this seemed like some kind of record. “To tell you the truth, I’m not investigating her death. That’s up to the police. What I’m doing at the request of her sister is investigating her life. I’m trying to figure out how she got from here to Maryland.”

  “Yeah, okay. But she was murdered right? And you’re working with the police, right?” Ayasha’s eyes sparkled.

  Jonelle nodded. A tightness started in the pit of her stomach. She remembered the waitress’s words about the woman sitting across from her. “As a private investigator, sometimes I do work with the police. In this case I need to find out as much as I can about Susanna. Whatever I find out I’ll share with the detectives in Maryland.”

  Ayasha placed elbows on the table, her fists under her chin. She leaned in close, eyes still bright with interest. “So, what happened? How’d she die?”

  Jonelle decided to keep her answers short. “Someone cut her throat.”

  “Whoa.” Ayasha sat back. “You know, if someone had told me one of ’em would get themselves killed, I would’ve picked Sophia as the victim. Or, hell, I’d even pick her as the, uh, perp. Isn’t that what murderers are called? She was the wild one; the one who kept getting into trouble when Susanna went around acting like she was getting her life together.”

  Time to turn the interview around, Jonelle thought. “Could you tell the difference between the two?”

  Ayasha shifted position. “Well, Sophia preferred her hair shorter than Susanna. People said it was Sophia who initiated all the crazy schemes. That’s one of the reasons why their daddy made sure Sophia went away to college. Guess he hoped that when they separated each would straighten out.” Ayasha shrugged. “Guess it worked, ’cause we heard Sophia married some rich guy.”

  “Speaking of marriage, what do you know about Susanna’s husband, Barrington?”

  Ayasha looked perplexed at first. “Oh, you mean Barry?” She shrugged. “Apparently, he was supposed to be,”—her fingers formed air quotes—“gifted and talented.”

  For someone who sounded like a conduit for even the hint of gossip, Jonelle figured Ayasha knew more about the man than she let on. “So, tell me what you know or have heard about the relationship between those two.”

  “Nuthin’ to tell. Didn’t know the dude personally.” Ayasha’s gaze turned back to the waterfall.

  “I heard,” Jonelle said, grabbing the woman’s attention again, “that there were several domestic calls to the police. You know anything about that?”

  One side of Ayasha’s mouth curled up. “Yeah. I did hear where they had a lot of knock down drag out fights and the cops were called to break it up. Next thing I heard, he left town.” Jonelle studied the woman in front of her. It sounded as though Ayasha was sad about him leaving. Though she wondered what their relationship was, if any, Jonelle had to focus back on Susanna.

  “I’ve already heard about the fight between the two girls at the prom. Were you there?”

  “That fight? That was nothing. Yeah, I was there and a lot of us thought the whole thing was staged. They were both active in the school’s theater group, did you know that?” Jonelle didn’t. She motioned for Ayasha to continue.

  “That whole business most of the white kids started about Sophia being jealous and all was crap. The girls liked to jerk everyone’s chain … make people think of that whole good twin, bad twin thing. Truth is, they were more alike than people thought.” Ayasha paused and glanced around the park. Jonelle sat quietly. After a few moments, Ayasha turned back around.

  “I remember a few times seein’ ’em around town, heads together, whispering and stuff, but as soon as they saw someone from school, they’d split apart like a bolt of lightning struck between them. I also noticed that same weird stuff whenever the school selected that year’s play. In case you’re wondering, I was a part of that whole scene, but never on the talent side. Of course.” There was that slight smile again. “As it turned out, I was more interested in the technical side anyway, especially the lighting.”

  She leaned in again with that gleam in her eye. “You’d think that if they were all that competitive against each other, that it would show up whenever auditions were held for the lead, but it didn’t. If one twin tried out for a particular role, the other would content herself to try out for a lesser part. Or even agree to helping with makeup and costumes, that sort of thing.”

  “No arguments? No yelling or screaming?” Instead of getting a clearer picture of the Quinley twins, things were getting more confused.

  Ayasha shook her head and stared at Jonelle with raised eyebrows.

  Jonelle waited for her to continue and when she didn’t, asked another question. “Do you think maybe their erratic behavior had something to do with not only selling, but also taking drugs?”

  Ayasha stood so quickly, the table shook. “Some folks around here think me and the boys have a problem with drugs. Well, we don’t use any more.”

  “Who’re ‘the boys’?”

  “Cousins. We’re not all that close, ’cause they’re into some really funky stuff.” She scanned the parking area. “I gotta get back to work.”

  “Before you go, I’d like to know your last name.”

  “Why?”

  “For my own satisfaction since you’ve given me so much useful information.”

  She blinked several times before almost yelling, “Yazzie.”

  Jonelle watched her stomp off. No wonder people thought she was nuts. Jonelle shook her head. While the information Ayasha gave her was interesting, that’s all it was. The clearest sign Jonelle had so far of why Susanna left was because of the money she stole. Ayasha left before Jonelle could explore what, if anything, the woman knew about the embezzlement.

  All the way back to her room, Jonelle mused over everything Ayasha said. When she parked in front of the B and B she noticed hers was the only vehicle there. In spite of that, she still called out when she let herself into the home. “Hello? Michelle?” Disappointed Michelle didn’t answer, Jonelle was relieved the Wickham’s didn’t answer either. Just to be sure, Jonelle checked the dining room and found no one inside. The couple’s bizarre habit of dressing like twins was weird, and she’d had her fill of twins, at least for today.

  She climbed the stairs to her room, intent on making notes of her interview with Ayasha while waiting for afternoon tea. Standing on the landing, Jonelle noticed her door slightly ajar.

  Her breath quickened as she tiptoed to the door. She put her hand against it and pushed. Two drawers in the bureau were open; Jonelle knew she’d shut them. A quick search inside revealed several items rearranged but nothing missing. When she left that morning, she’d placed her briefcase on the chair next to the small table. The briefcase now sat on top of the table.

  Her laptop and notebook were where she’d left them. But, the top of the computer was up; she knew she’d closed it. Someone had entered her room and gone through her things.

  CHAPTER 15

  Puzzled at who, and why, anyone would want to go through her belongings, Jonelle sat on the bed and thought about the people she’d talked to since she arrived. The man and woman at the first restaurant were the only two who seemed unwilling to answer her questions and who appeared a bit hostile. In this town, secrets were impossible to keep an
d she felt sure everyone knew where she was staying. Jonelle grabbed her camera and clicked a few pictures. For what purpose, she wasn’t sure, but it made her feel better. She photographed the open bureau drawers that held her clothes, as well as the open laptop and notepad.

  Noise from downstairs caught her attention. She tiptoed to the door and listened. Not hearing a conversation, Jonelle walked out onto the landing and called out. “Michelle, is that you?”

  Michelle appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Hope I didn’t disturb you, I just came from shopping.”

  “Not at all,” Jonelle said. “When you have time, I’d like to show you something in my room.”

  “Sure. Give me a few minutes to put the groceries away.” Michelle walked away and Jonelle returned to her room and waited. Jonelle remembered when she returned from the park she entered the front door with just a turn of the knob. Anyone could have entered. But why go through her things?

  By process of elimination, Ayasha was in the clear, as well as the waitress from the Contented Moose. The city commissioner had plenty of time to leave his office and search her room, but why go through her things? He seemed forthcoming with all the information about Susanna. That left the unpleasant restaurant owner and waitress at the first place she stopped when she arrived.

  A gentle knock at the door. “Come on in,” Jonelle said.

  Michelle entered carrying two mugs of something steaming. “Thought you might like a cup of tea,” she said.

  “Sounds great. Let’s sit by the window.” Jonelle took the offered mug from Michelle over to the small table. Michelle sat across from her.

  “So, how’d it go today?” Michelle asked with a smile.

  Jonelle recited abbreviated accounts of her meetings with Finkleberg and Ayasha. At the mention of the woman’s name, Michelle frowned. “Where did you meet her? She’s not someone I would have introduced to you.”

  “I had lunch after I left the commissioner’s office. She was sitting alone at a table so I asked her to join me. Have to admit she was a bit odd.”

  Michelle looked down in her cup. “That’s an understatement. She and other members of her family have had more drug related run-ins with the law than I can count.” Michelle raised her eyes and gazed at Jonelle. “I wouldn’t put too much weight into anything she told you. She might’ve been stoned.”

  “Hmm. Maybe. Tell me something. I’ve heard bits and pieces about the father, but nothing about the mother. What can you tell me about her? I understand she’s not in the best of health.”

  After a few sips of tea, Michelle put down the cup, sat back in the chair and stared out the window. Jonelle waited.

  “Not sure what I can say about Mrs. Quinley that would help you find out about Susanna,” Michelle said.

  Jonelle waited for her to continue but when Michelle didn’t say anything else, Jonelle wondered what happened to the woman who had no problems spilling information before.

  “That’s okay. I probably should talk to her myself anyway. One more thing, Michelle,” Jonelle said. “When I came back to my room this afternoon, I discovered someone had gone through my things. I know it wasn’t you.” At least Jonelle hoped not. “I could tell someone rifled through my clothes”—she pointed to the still open dresser—“and tried to get into my computer but it’s password protected, so they didn’t get anything. This notebook here,”—Jonelle waved it at Michelle—“was on top of the laptop when I left, but I found it on the desk when I returned.”

  She waited a few beats before adding, “Do you have any idea who would want to invade my privacy like this?”

  The color drained from Michelle’s face. “No one could’ve done this. Are you sure?” Michelle’s eyes swept over the space.

  “Actually, it would have been very easy for someone to search my room. When I got back, your front door was unlocked and the door to my room was open. So, if this place isn’t locked what’s to stop someone from walking in?” Jonelle lowered her voice and smiled softly at her host. “Someone did this and I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out who it could be.”

  Michelle rose and wandered around the room, one hand on her hip and the other placed against the side of her face. “This has never happened before. Sure, a lot of people know you’re here … and why, but I’ve never had to lock the doors before.” She frowned. “Usually, I’m always here, or if I have to go to the store, my husband looks after the place.” A huge sigh escaped her. “Josh said he had to run out for a few minutes. Since we didn’t want to inconvenience you or the Wickhams, we decided to leave the front door unlocked. We’ve done it many times before with no problems.” She stopped pacing and sighed. “Guess I’ll have to change that policy. I’m so sorry.”

  “Do you think the Wickhams might know something?” Jonelle asked.

  Michelle shook her head. “They left this morning shortly after you did and were still gone when I left to go shopping. It’s usually”—Michelle looked at her watch—“around now when they return.”

  “Any new arrivals today?”

  Once again Michelle shook her head. “No one else is due until tomorrow and they’re also return guests. I don’t get this.”

  Michelle crossed her arms. In a quiet voice she asked, “Would you like me to call the sheriff?”

  Jonelle stood. “No. Not necessary. Nothing was taken, so I guess no harm done. It’s a little past three, so I think I’ll go pay a visit to Mrs. Quinley. This is really the only chance I’ll have to talk to her since I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  The lines around Michelle’s mouth deepened. “I’ll make sure no one enters your room while you’re gone.”

  CHAPTER 16

  After Michelle left, Jonelle gathered her notebook and stuck her laptop in a dresser drawer. She left the B and B without seeing anyone and once inside the rental, plugged Mrs. Quinley’s address into the GPS system. That done she called to alert the twin’s mother of her imminent arrival. Jonelle wondered how much information Sophia disclosed to her mother about Susanna’s death. Several minutes later Jonelle arrived in front of an enormous log cabin situated next to a crystalline lake that flowed on as far as she could see.

  Jonelle stepped out of the vehicle and stood on the sidewalk leading up to the front door. The home towered over its closest neighbors a few acres away and illustrated more than anything what little she knew about the family’s status in the town. No sooner had Jonelle stepped onto the porch’s bottom step when the front door opened. A tall, thin woman with short, white hair, stood ramrod straight and peered down at Jonelle. The olive green cashmere turtle neck outlined a protruding collar bone. Dark brown wool slacks hung on her slight frame and ended on the instep of brown leather clogs. Jonelle guessed the woman’s gaunt appearance was more a result of the disease swirling through her rather than some type of chosen diet. “Mrs. Quinley?”

  “You’re the detective lady from Maryland.”

  “Yes. I’m here about—”

  “I know why you’re here,” Mrs. Quinley interrupted. “Sophia called me, though it was hard to understand her. She said she had a bad cold. Plus, you can’t keep anything from the people in this town.” She looked past Jonelle. “You might as well come in before the grapevine explodes.” At that, she turned and walked inside. A brief whiff of something medicinal enveloped the air in her wake. Jonelle noticed the pink scalp showing through the woman’s thin hair and was surprised there were no servants milling about.

  “We can sit in here,” Mrs. Quinley said, pointing to the right at what looked like a sitting room off of the foyer. Sarah Quinley eased down into a dark green leather wing chair with brass studs around the sides and armrest. A thin arm pointed to a matching leather sofa directly opposite. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” In spite of the woman’s frail appearance, she radiated strength and confidence. Cool, blue eyes never left Jonelle’s face. The first thought that came to mind was that the woman sitting before her was used to intimidating people.

 
; Jonelle cleared her throat. “First, let me say I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine how painful it must be to lose a child.”

  Sarah’s eyes flitted around the room. “Have you experienced a death in your family?”

  “My husband died suddenly, last year.”

  “A child’s death is worse. Much worse,” Sarah said. She faced the window and gazed out at the trees. The pause stretched on for several seconds. Jonelle had already decided to break the silence when Sarah crossed her legs and looked directly into Jonelle’s eyes.

  “What do you want to know?”

  On the way over Jonelle had debated what types of questions to ask and whether or not she had to tread softly because of the woman’s health. She didn’t need to worry. Sarah gave the impression she could handle whatever was thrown her way.

  Jonelle took her pad out of her bag. “I’ve received conflicting information on how close the twins were while growing up. Some said they were inseparable until they entered high school and drifted apart. What do you remember about that time?”

  Sarah’s face twisted into a tight smile. “The girls didn’t make friends easily. I suspect it was more a case of the other parents not wanting their children to play with them. My late husband owned a lot of property around here and he ran his businesses with an iron hand. So, with few others wanting to be friends, they relied on each other. I tried to ease the burden a bit, by dressing them different, you know, so as not to emphasize their sameness, but it didn’t work. At first, Sophia seemed stronger and dominated Susanna. The trouble they got into was usually initiated by her with Susanna following along like a happy puppy.”

  “Did it stay that way?”

  “Around the time they turned thirteen, Susanna came into her own and rebelled when anyone tried to intimidate her.”

  “I heard a story about them undressing and harassing a boy when they were young. True?”