The Trickster (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 3)

by R. Lanier Clemons

  While she was in Michigan Ben reported absolutely nothing happened at Polly Cole’s house. “Thought I might have a little excitement Thursday night when I saw a light in the front go on around two thirty in the morning. About twenty minutes later, the light went off. No one went in or came out. Figured she couldn’t sleep and went into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. Or whatever. Bottom line is nothing happened. Nada. Nein. Zero. Zippo,” he’d said before Jonelle cut him off.

  In a way she was glad Ben subbed for her for a couple nights. That would provide a different vehicle in the area. Even though Mrs. Cole said she’d given a few discreet neighbors a ‘heads-up’ that Jonelle and her Jeep would be watching the house, Jonelle wanted to be sure that someone out of the loop wouldn’t get suspicious and call the police.

  The cool night ushered in the sound of chirping crickets. Jonelle passed by the craftsman bungalow the first time, looking for a spot that would give her a good vantage point. As she approached the house for the second time, she noticed brake lights on a car parked at the curb ahead of her, its front wheels angled out. “Thank goodness,” she said, slowing to a stop.

  Headlights shone in her rearview mirror. She engaged her Jeep’s blinker to signal her intent to pull into the vacated space. The vehicle behind her didn’t move. Jonelle put her arm out the window and waved the car on. It didn’t work; the car stayed behind her. “Idiot,” she muttered.

  Only after Jonelle had backed into the space did the car pass. Annoyed at the driver’s actions, she glanced out her side window, intent on throwing the occupant a dirty look. The vehicle crept past. As it moved on, she noted two people in the gray sedan. A whiff of marijuana floated through her open window. Jonelle smiled to herself. Even if a person had never smoked the stuff, everyone knew that distinctive smell.

  Jonelle perked up at the possibility the boyfriend had arrived and tonight the daughter would bolt. It’d be great if she could catch the guy in the act of sneaking into the house, thereby resolving the second surveillance case and allowing her to focus on Susanna. Two people in the vehicle bothered her. Would the guy bring a friend? She waited for the car to come back and park, but nothing happened.

  Jonelle checked her watch. Only eleven thirty. She groaned. It was gonna be a long night. She settled down and pulled out her notebook. She’d already gotten some sense, although contradictory, of Barrington Kelly. With pencil in hand, she scribbled a few questions. Most of them focused on Kelly’s last contact with Susanna.

  Finkleberg must’ve contacted Kelly about the missing money when Susanna fled. If Susanna had contacted Kelly, surely Kelly would’ve let Finkleberg know. What if Kelly knew about the embezzlement? Would he help his ex or turn her in? Jonelle made a note to call Burt to see if the Michigan cops had arrived about Susanna and if he’d learned about her ex.

  Jonelle pulled her backpack from the floor onto the seat and scrounged inside for a bottle of water and bag of chips. As she opened the bag, approaching headlights illuminated the inside of the Jeep. Jonelle stopped herself from sliding down in the seat; she wanted a good look. As the car closed in on her location, she noticed the same gray sedan with the same two guys she’d seen earlier. She sniffed. Yep, the sweet, smoky smell of weed hung in the air.

  This time, the person in the passenger seat turned and stared at her. Dark hair drooped over his forehead and ran down his neck, hiding his collar. The car continued down the street.

  The guy didn’t look like any young girl’s boyfriend. He resembled someone whose mugshot would appear on the news. She wanted to follow to see where they went or at least get a look at the license plate. If she left and the kid bolted, then what? How would she explain she’d failed at such a simple task? She shoved the key in the ignition. The hell with it; those guys sent her intuition button into overdrive. If Polly Cole’s daughter made a run for it, well, she’d make some excuse. If those guys were planning something illegal, she couldn’t sit by and let that happen.

  The Jeep turned over and Jonelle sped down the street, intent on picking up where they were headed. Up ahead, brake lights flashed as the car made a right turn. She pressed the accelerator. At that time of night and on a Monday, there wasn’t much traffic. The one constant thing this neighborhood used for traffic control was stop signs. Sure enough, a stop sign ahead forced the sedan to a halt. Jonelle used one hand to scribble the license plate on her notepad before she noticed the rental car sticker. Damn. The car sat there. Jonelle waited. What were they doing? Jonelle glanced at the glove compartment where her Beretta lay.

  The squeal of tires alerted her and she watched the sedan make an abrupt left turn and speed down the street. No point in following now. She had the license plate and would forward the information to the police department if necessary. Still. Jonelle felt the men had things on their mind other than robbing the neighborhood where she happened to be watching. Plus, she hated coincidences.

  She made her way back to Polly Cole’s house. Nothing looked out of place as she pulled into the same spot. Settled in once more, Jonelle believed the men had nothing to do with Polly’s daughter, and burglars wouldn’t slow down and draw attention to themselves. The only other possibility was that they were following her.

  CHAPTER 21

  After having spent most of her fledgling PI career with her butt ensconced in plastic chairs in various waiting rooms, Jonelle was happy to relax in a plush, upholstered chair in the reception area of Schein, Morrow and Kelly. The petite Asian American woman behind the curved, wooden reception desk smiled at her again. “Sorry for the delay,” she said, showing even, white teeth beneath bright red lipstick. “The doctor is still with his last client.”

  Jonelle returned the smile. “No problem. I’m not in any particular hurry.”

  A few minutes later, a male voice interrupted her as she read about the latest exploits of yet another celebrity couple she never heard of.

  Jonelle looked up as a man of medium height and slender build approached. “Ms. Sweet?” he asked. Since the only other person there besides herself and the secretary was an elderly man, Jonelle thought his question somewhat redundant. As she stood to greet him, the first thing she noticed was his sad, what they used to call bedroom, eyes. Those eyes took her by surprise, as did the rest of his rather ordinary appearance. Somehow he didn’t match up with the man she supposed someone like Susanna Quinley would date, much less marry. She was glad she’d swiped a business card that displayed his picture since she wasn’t sure she could remember what Kelly looked like after she left.

  They shook hands and Kelly indicated a long hall to the right of the secretary. “Follow me to my office?”

  “Sure,” Jonelle said. “Lead the way.”

  Plush, gray-green carpeting muffled their footsteps. In between closed doors on both sides of the hallway were posters of abstract paintings. Jonelle wondered if they were supposed to be substitutes for those, “what do you see” blotches she’d heard psychologists used, then remembered he wasn’t that kind of head doctor.

  Kelly opened a door with his name in raised, pewter lettering and suggested she sit in a black, leather chair in front of his desk. He went around and sat in a similar but high-backed chair. Jonelle noted the prints on the walls in his office resembled those in the hall. She took in the wine-colored leather sofa against the left wall. Floor to ceiling bookcases covered the space behind Kelly’s desk. Framed photographs faced him, preventing her from seeing the subjects. A three-sectioned, two-drawer mahogany file cabinet filled the area under the one window. A tall, yellow vase with streaks of red splashed through it perched on top of the cabinet. To her disappointment the flowers inside looked fake.

  “So,” he said, drawing her attention back to him. “You’re here to talk about Susanna.”

  Jonelle liked it when people got right to the point. “Yes. The first thing I’d like to know is how you found out about her death. Did you hear about it on the news? Read it in the newspapers?”

  He shook his head.
“Not from the papers. I only read the Wall Street Journal. I seldom watch local news because frankly, all they’re about ninety percent of the time is reporting crime. No,” he said, picking up a pen and holding it horizontally between the fingers of both hands, “I first heard about her death from Norman Finkleberg.”

  “Did he also tell you what she’s accused of?”

  “He said she stole money from the county.” He made the statement as if he’d just been asked to describe his favorite sweater.

  “You’re not surprised?”

  He shrugged.

  Jonelle waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she decided to back up and start with what she’d heard when she was in Michigan. “I understand you two had a rocky marriage. Is that a fair assessment?”

  Kelly turned and looked toward the window. “We never should have married. I lusted after her all through high school, like most of the other guys. She was so pretty. So popular. Of course I never thought she’d go out with someone like me. But, one day, I got the courage to ask her to a movie and she said yes. My feet didn’t hit the ground all week.” He paused, a slight smile of remembrance on his face. “We dated off and on all through high school and right before college we decided to go ahead and get married. Our parents were against it, but you can’t talk to kids.” He hesitated again. After a few seconds, he turned and faced Jonelle.

  “Truth is, they were right. We were awful together. Argued from day one. I seemed to annoy the hell out of her just by breathing.”

  “Tell me about school. I heard the twins sold drugs. Were you into that scene?” The doctor didn’t look the type, but one never really knew.

  “I don’t do drugs. Never have, never will.”

  “You knew she did though, right? Did it bother you?”

  Kelly blinked several times. “I knew and no, it didn’t bother me. She wasn’t addicted or anything. They stopped dealing when things started getting a little, uh, hairy in the places that attracted that sort of people.”

  “‘They?’”

  “Sophia got involved in that nonsense for a while also.”

  Jonelle didn’t think that selling drugs in high school would provoke someone into killing one of the women years later, yet she knew people killed for far less.

  “Were they ever threatened? Did the other dealers object to them selling on their turf?”

  “I have no idea. They weren’t serious. To them it was another way of pushing everyone’s buttons.”

  Although no one had mentioned it in Michigan, Jonelle wondered if that lifestyle carried into the twins’ adult life.

  “Do you know if Susanna, or Sophia for that matter, continued their involvement with drugs?”

  Kelly’s eyes widened. “Of course not. That all ended years ago.”

  Jonelle appreciated his candor and wondered if that was a personality trait of his position. She decided to press on. “I heard different rumors about how you and Susanna sometimes argued to the point the police were called. Some say you not only verbally, but also physically abused her, while others said she fought you. Physically, I mean.” Jonelle watched his expression.

  Those hazel eyes gave up nothing, though the sides of his mouth curled down a bit.

  “I don’t hit women. Never have, never will. Whenever Susanna felt she wasn’t winning whatever argument du jour she’d throw things … whatever was at hand. Occasionally her fists connected with my nose.” A sad smile crossed his face. “Two years or so later, we’d both had enough.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Funny. The only thing we agreed on was divorce.”

  “Why did you come all the way to Maryland for school? There are many prestigious colleges between the Upper Peninsula and here.”

  “True. But I got a full scholarship to Hopkins. My parents weren’t as rich as Susanna’s. They couldn’t help with my education. If I wanted a better life for myself, I had to do it on my own. Besides, I wanted out of that place. Too many eyes. Too many wagging tongues.” He cocked his head to one side. “I bet you noticed that when you were there. Am I right?”

  Jonelle agreed. “Very close-knit community. I guess that’s one reason why Finkleberg was so shocked at what Susanna did. Did she ever give you any indication that she’d steal from the town?”

  He shook his head and turned to gaze toward the window again. “The police kept asking me who would do such a thing to Susanna. I knew they considered me a suspect until I produced a solid alibi.”

  “Mind telling me what it was?”

  He smiled ruefully. “I was hosting a birthday party for a friend of mine on my boat. It’s moored in southwest DC. At least twenty people vouched for my whereabouts.”

  Kelly put the pen on his desk and picked up one of the framed photographs. “My girlfriend hates that I still have this, but Susanna was a part of my life.” He turned the picture so Jonelle could see. It was of the two of them, taken on their wedding day.

  “Very nice,” she said. “I know what you mean. You can’t flick your emotions on and off like a light switch. It takes time.”

  Kelly replaced the photo in the exact spot on his desk. “So. When Finkleberg told me about the missing money, I refused to believe she’d done it. Not until he said they arrested that other woman and she confessed.”

  “When was the last time you talked to Susanna?” Jonelle watched him carefully. Finally, she noticed a slight change in his eyes.

  “I haven’t seen her since I left Michigan. That was years ago.”

  “I understand, Dr. Kelly. But what I’m asking is, have you talked to her? Communicated with her in any way, either on the phone or maybe by email?”

  He sighed. “I told the police I got a phone call from Susanna about five, six months ago. She said she was coming to the area to, uh, look for another job and wondered if she could stay with me for a while. I told her no. That I was involved with someone and we were living together.”

  “Is that true?”

  He frowned. “Of course.”

  “Did she say why she was looking for another job?”

  He shook his head.

  “How did she react when you rejected her suggestion?”

  “Typical Susanna fashion. She got mad. Called me a spineless wonder, said I should grow a pair, etcetera, etcetera.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I have another client scheduled in a few minutes.”

  “Okay. Just a few more quick questions. Did she know anyone else in the area?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “The biggest thing that doesn’t add up is why, after you rejected her request to stay with you, she chose to come here anyway and live on the street? Why would an attractive white woman, with money no less, want to live with a scuzzy-looking black guy on Baltimore’s mean streets?” Sorry, Luther.

  “I have … ,” his voice cracked. “I have no idea.”

  He stood. Jonelle followed suit.

  “What about Sophia?”

  Kelly started to come around his desk and stopped. “What about her?”

  “Did you two get along?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. She’d left the U.P., after high school.”

  “True. But she came back for your wedding.”

  “And left right after. So, if you don’t mind … ” He walked over to the door and held it open.

  “You talked from time to time. Right?”

  A flash of anger in his eyes. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because she told me what your specialty was. How would she know unless you told her?”

  “Susanna must’ve said something.”

  Jonelle didn’t buy it. “But you said the only contact you had with Susanna was about six months ago. She’d already left Michigan under a cloud of suspicion. So, how would she know anything about you, unless the three of you kept in contact with each other.”

  Kelly looked as if he was having second thoughts about telling Jonelle anything. She waited for his response. She didn’t have to wait long.


  “Okay. This is how it happened. Right after Susanna called—”

  “How long after?” Jonelle interrupted.

  “Not sure. Couple days maybe. Anyway, I got a message to contact Norm Finkleberg. He and I remained friends after I left. He told me what happened and asked if I knew where she was. I told him she’d called me, wanting to stay with me a while but I turned her down. I said I had no idea where she was staying. Norm said he’d contacted everyone else in the family and they claimed they didn’t know where she was either.”

  “When did Sophia contact you? Before or after you talked to Susanna?”

  Kelly returned to his chair, leaned back and gazed at the ceiling. “After. All this was after. If I’d known what she’d done, I’d have said she could stay with me, and then when I got the call from Norm I would’ve told him where she was.”

  Jonelle didn’t believe him. Even though Susanna stole the money he still had strong feelings for her. Why else would he hold on to their wedding picture?

  “What happened next?”

  He rose again. “Nothing. Until a few days ago when Norm called to say he’d heard from you and you said Susanna was killed. I already knew, of course. Sophia told me.”

  “How?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Did she call you at home or here on your work phone?”

  “Here. Of course.” He stared pointedly at his watch.

  “Thanks for your time.” She held out her hand and they both shook. Instead of exiting through the door she entered, Kelly walked around her to another door Jonelle hadn’t noticed before.

  He opened it and pointed down a short, narrow corridor. “Follow the hallway to the first corridor on the left. That leads to the elevators. Most of my patients prefer leaving this way.”