Sally crinkled her nose. “William? Oh, no. Not after the way he acted when you were here.” Her face brightened. “I gave my extra set to Hugh.”
Jonelle’s hand hovered over the door knob. “Hugh?”
“He’s my neighbor. He and I have tea every afternoon. His full name is Hugh Rhys-Morton.” Sally leaned in toward Jonelle. “He’s British,” she said in a stage whisper. “They like their tea, you know.”
“Do you think it’s wise to give out your new keys?” Jonelle asked, her voice tight.
“Sure,” Sally responded. “If I lost one, then I know Hugh would have the spare.”
“I… suppose… so,” Jonelle said, eyebrows knitted together. “How about you introduce me to Hugh. I’d like to meet him.”
As the two stepped onto the porch, Jonelle gazed at the house on the lot next door and the one directly across the road. “Tell me, Sally. Which house is Hugh’s?”
Sally pointed. “That one.”
The nosey neighbor. The one who kept Jonelle in his sights every time she visited Sally.
CHAPTER 11
Jonelle checked her watch. Since the bank closed late on Fridays, they still had plenty of time to get there.
The rain had stopped. Jonelle welcomed the cooler air left by the brief rainstorm, knowing it was only temporary. Next to the porch, the sweet smell of lilac bushes draped their fragrance on the gentle breeze.
“How about we go over and meet Hugh,” Jonelle said. She ushered her client across the street.
The white house with black shutters was a smaller version of Sally’s traditional farmhouse. While Sally’s porch wrapped all the way around the front and included the sides, this house’s landing stopped at the front corners. Boxwood hedges stood like sentries on either side of the steps. Unlike Sally’s yard which was awash in irises, lilacs and roses, there were no flowers. This lack of color gave the property a bleak and rather sad look. Odd. Jonelle thought the English loved their flower gardens.
Jonelle helped Sally step onto Hugh’s porch, and resisted the urge to look in his windows.
After knocking twice, the door opened and a pink-faced fellow, with thin, wispy gray hair at the temples, stared out. His pale, watery eyes looked first at Jonelle and then Sally.
“Good afternoon, Hugh,” Sally said, with a lilt in her voice. “Afraid I won’t be able to have tea today. Ms. Sweet and I are going to the bank.”
“Afternoon,” Hugh replied. He made no move to invite the women inside.
Since tact sometimes eluded Jonelle, she took the initiative. “Okay if we come in for a minute? I told Sally I wanted to meet you. Especially since she’s a client of mine and you have copies of her new keys.” Jonelle studied the man, waiting for his reaction.
He hesitated. Jonelle held his gaze. After a moment, he gave a quick nod and stepped to one side. With a wave of his hand, he motioned for the women to come inside.
“Nice place you have Hugh,” Jonelle said. Her eyes swept the room, noting the small brown leather couch with matching recliner and ottoman.
“Thanks.” As if remembering his manners, he added, “Would you like to sit down?”
Jonelle flashed her best smile. “No, thanks. Sally said you were from England. I was there once, a long time ago. Beautiful place. Whereabouts are you from?”
“Penzance.”
“Ah. Cornwall then. Gorgeous scenery. Why on earth did you leave? Weather’s better there than in most other parts of the country.”
Hugh’s left eye twitched. Aware of the eye dance performance in front of his guests, he placed his index finger on the orb and rubbed.
“Wanted a change,” he said. “I’ve got family north of here in Westminster and I just decided to relocate. I want to spend my remaining days closer to relatives.”
Jonelle peered at Hugh. She surveyed his gray pants, blue striped shirt and navy blue suspenders—“braces” she thought they were called in England—and decided he looked about ten years younger than Sally.
“Hugh used to be a solicitor,” Sally said. “That’s what they call lawyers in England.”
Jonelle nodded. She had exhausted most of her repertoire of idle chit chat. Time to move on.
“I don’t know how much Sally’s told you about me, but I’m a private investigator. What I do for her is confidential, but I guess… ,” Jonelle looked at Sally. The elderly woman blushed. “I guess it’s up to Sally what she does or doesn’t want to reveal.
“In any case, since she’s given you a set of her keys, I’d like to request you don’t take them out of this house.”
A silent Hugh crossed his arms in front of his chest. He did not meet Jonelle’s eyes.
Indifferent to Hugh’s feelings concerning Sally’s keys, Jonelle glanced at her client. “I’d hate for the keys to get lost. Or fall in the wrong hands.”
Sally looked from Hugh to Jonelle and back again. She said nothing.
Hugh pursed his thin lips. “I have no intention of using them,” he said. “They’re just here for safe keeping.” He walked over to a two shelf bookcase next to the stairs and picked up a small wooden box. He lifted the lid and removed two keys. “You can have them back if you want,” he said.
“Oh no,” Sally said. “I know they’re safe right where they are. Ms. Sweet just wanted to meet you.”
“That’s right.” Jonelle watched him return the keys to the box. While Hugh had offered them a seat, he hadn’t offered anything else. Pleasantries over and point made, she turned toward Sally. “If you’re ready, we can go to the bank now.”
Sally nodded.
Without further comment, Hugh escorted them onto the porch and closed the door. A little too loudly, in Jonelle’s opinion.
“I don’t understand why he acted like that,” Sally said. “He’s usually such a charming man.” The two walked back to Jonelle’s car. She ushered the elderly woman onto the passenger seat.
“Hmm. Up to you, but I’d be a little reticent about how much information you tell Hugh about your case. At least wait until all the issues with the jewelry have been resolved.”
“If you say so, dear.”
“Also, if you notice anything else missing or out of place, let me know right away. Especially if the missing items follow visits from other people.”
Sally nodded.
After Jonelle buckled her seatbelt, she turned toward Sally.
“Is it still okay for me and a friend of mine to come back tomorrow to do a more thorough search of your attic? And maybe the closet?”
For a moment Sally said nothing. A worried look clouded her face.
Jonelle waited for her to speak.
“Okay,” Sally managed. Her hand fiddled with the top button on her blouse. “I suppose I should tell you about the closet. Why I’m not comfortable talking about… ”
Jonelle placed a hand gently on Sally’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. You can let me know all about… whatever… when you feel comfortable.”
While Sally’s lips smiled, Jonelle noted the sadness in her eyes. “Well,” Sally said. “I’m glad he didn’t ask for his keys back.”
Jonelle didn’t think she heard right. “Are you saying you have a copy of Hugh’s keys in your house?”
The bright light that had faded in Sally’s eyes, returned as she nodded in response to Jonelle’s question.
Before she pulled her Jeep away, Jonelle looked across the street. Hugh stood at his front window. This time, when Jonelle looked at him, he stared back at her.
CHAPTER 12
“Excuse me,” Adrienne said. “But you do not have to tell me how to act. I am a professional woman, holding down a professional job in a very diverse environment. I know how to talk to people. Even white people,” she sniffed.
The two women stood on opposite sides of Jonelle’s SUV in front of Sally’s house. “I just wanted you to know that Sally is over eighty and a bit fragile, that’s all. No need for the attitude.”
Adrienne rolled her eyes to th
e sky. “Remind me again why I’m giving up a perfectly gorgeous Saturday to go rummaging around an old dusty attic. I’m not gonna get too dirty, am I?”
Jonelle ignored her best friend’s question. While the urge to look across the street was strong, she resisted and instead led the way to Sally’s house. Fully expecting Sally to appear as soon as they both stood on the porch, Jonelle was surprised she had to knock.
After a few moments Jonelle heard a few clicks. Sally opened the door with an apology.
“Sorry about that. I know you’re always on time, but it took me a while to find the damn… oops, excuse my French! I mean darn key.” Sally beckoned them inside. “Is this your little friend?”
Though both Jonelle and Adrienne towered over the tiny woman, Adrienne was often asked if she did any modeling. No one ever asked Jonelle that question. Not wanting Adrienne to comment on the ‘little friend’ remark, Jonelle quickly made the introductions. “This is Adrienne. She and I have been friends since elementary school. Adrienne, this is Sally.”
Adrienne smiled at Sally and held out her hand. “Nice meeting you. Jonelle told me what a lovely home you had. And she’s right.”
Jonelle breathed a sigh of relief.
Sally took the offered hand. “Pleasure is all mine. My goodness. You have such lovely fingernails. How long did it take you to get them like that?”
Adrienne fluttered her hands. “As long as it took Sun Ming to interpret the design I wanted. Gotta admit I was a little worried she wouldn’t get the right pink and purple Art Deco look I was going for, but it’s spot on.”
The banter between the two women amused Jonelle, so she was in no hurry to spoil the mood. She knew some people found Adrienne a bit overwhelming. It seemed, however, that her client and her best friend were hitting it off.
Sally cocked her head. “Didn’t Ms. Sweet, Jonelle, tell you it’s dusty in the attic? I’m afraid those pretty lavender shorts you’re wearing will get dirty.”
“Not to worry,” Adrienne said. “These are actually my old clothes.” She glanced over at Jonelle, decked out in a cotton sleeveless blouse and jean shorts. “I see how you could be confused. Especially considering it’s nearly impossible to tell whether Jonelle is wearing her ‘old’ clothes, or her everyday clothes.”
A tiny giggle escaped Sally’s lips.
“Party’s over, you guys,” Jonelle said, clapping her hands. “Okay if we go on upstairs?”
“Of course.” A gleam shone in Sally’s eyes. “It’s so nice to have such pleasant company. And I have a treat. I’ve made lunch for you two, whenever you’re ready.”
“You shouldn’t have gone to any trouble,” Adrienne said. She lifted an eyebrow in Jonelle’s direction. Jonelle knew her friend didn’t want to spend any more time in the house than necessary.
Sally dismissed the idea with the wave of a hand. “Nonsense. Just let me know when you’re through up there.”
Disappointed at the possibility of spoiling everyone’s light-hearted mood, Jonelle still needed to ask Sally about getting into the closet.
“Here’s what I have planned. I’d like to start with the locked closet in your room and then go on up to the attic. If that’s okay.”
The change in the room was palpable. At the mention of the word ‘closet’, Sally seemed to shrink into herself.
Jonelle walked closer to the woman and held her eyes. “William told me about Vera,” she murmured. “I understand how you feel. I’ll look as quickly as I can. If you prefer, I can take the key. That way, you don’t need to open the door. I’ll make sure to lock it again.”
Without a word, Sally turned and went to the kitchen.
“What—” Adrienne began.
“I’ll explain later,” Jonelle said.
Sally returned, arm outstretched, key sitting in the middle of her palm.
“Thank you.” Jonelle patted Sally’s shoulder. “I promise we won’t disturb anything.”
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Adrienne added. She winked at Sally. “You just take it easy. We’ll be through in a jiff.”
Sally visibly relaxed. “Take your time, dears. I’ll be down here if you need anything.”
The two friends made their way upstairs, with Jonelle leading the way. Neither spoke as they moved from the landing into Sally’s bedroom. Jonelle waited until she was certain Sally could not hear them.
“Boy, are you full of surprises. I didn’t have to apologize for your behavior once.”
“Told you I knew how to act,” Adrienne said. “Besides, I really like her. What a sweetie. Now what’s all this about a closet?”
As Jonelle inserted the key into the door, she explained Vera’s suicide.
“Oh, my God. No wonder the poor thing reacted that way,” Adrienne said.
Jonelle nodded. She turned the knob. The door creaked open. Though the closet didn’t have a light-bulb, the sun streaming through the bedroom window made it easy to see inside. No clothes hung on a rack. No shoes crowded the floor. Not even any boxes or containers took up space. Jonelle looked up. A horizontal metal bar floated below the ceiling and was attached to opposite sides of the wall.
“Well, that was uneventful,” Adrienne remarked.
Jonelle knocked against the sides of the wall.
“What are you doin’ that for?” Adrienne asked.
“I just want to… what’s that noise?”
Adrienne frowned. “What noise? I don’t hear anything.”
“Shh!” Jonelle eased further into the space. “Listen. Don’t you hear it? It’s a little louder right here.” She indicated the back closet wall.
Jonelle moved over and Adrienne stepped inside. The two women looked at each other as faint music came through the wall. “Hey, sounds like some kinda new-age tune,” Adrienne said.
Goosebumps erupted on Jonelle’s arms. “It reminds me of somebody playing a harp.”
The music stopped.
“Sound travels funny in these old houses,” Jonelle said, as if trying to convince herself of that fact. “Sally must be playing a record downstairs. Yeah, that’s it. It’s a record.”
Adrienne looked sideways at Jonelle. “Uh-huh. We done here?”
“You better believe it,” Jonelle replied. She locked the door and put the key in her pocket. “Next is the attic.”
“Oh, goody. You owe me big time for this, girlfriend.”
In the hall, Jonelle found the light switch for the attic and pulled the string. Both women stared at the steps leading upward.
“You first,” Adrienne said.
“Right.”
After Jonelle used her weight to test the bottom step, she climbed up the rickety stairs. Adrienne came up behind.
The wooden attic floor groaned in protest as both Jonelle and Adrienne stood and looked around the dust covered space. The overhead light illuminated a small circle around the opening, with the rest of the area remained wrapped in darkness.
“So, explain to me again what it is—” Adrienne sneezed. “Shoot.” She began again. “What are we looking for? I’m not used to all this filth. Where’s your flashlight?”
In answer to Adrienne’s last question, Jonelle pulled a penlight from her shorts pocket. She flicked it on.
Adrienne glared at the feeble light. “You’re kidding, right?”
Jonelle shook her head. “Forgot to bring the real ones, but this’ll give me enough light to see what I need to see. I want to be absolutely sure her missing jewelry is not up here.” Jonelle turned around. “This place isn’t that big.”
“Looks pretty damn big enough for me,” Adrienne said.
“You take the left side, and I’ll go right.”
As Jonelle started to move off, Adrienne grabbed her by the arm. “Wait a minute. You’re the one with the light. You got another one?”
“Use the flashlight app on your phone. It’ll show as much as what I’ve got.”
Jonelle didn’t want to aggravate her claustrophobia by spending any mo
re time in the attic than necessary, so she ignored Adrienne’s protests and wandered to the right. She started closest to the opening where the overhead light shone brightest. She looked around and underneath two wooden, cane backed chairs. Three dusty candlestick floor lamps rested close to the wall. Jonelle explored around each base. Nothing.
“How are you doing over there,” she called out to Adrienne.
The reply came in the form of a loud sneeze, followed by another one.
Jonelle smiled to herself.
The penlight’s narrow beam played over covered shapes. After a slight hesitation, Jonelle reached over and with thumb and forefinger, lifted the sheet closest to her. Underneath was a stuffed chair upholstered in the same chintz as the chairs in the living room. Several deep rips were gouged in the seat. As she released the covering, she sensed movement. Jonelle aimed the feeble light toward the back wall.
“Um, Adrienne?” Jonelle called out. “How come you’re not saying anything?”
A loud sniff. “’Cause every time I start to say something, I get a sneezing fit… See what I mean? Dammit!”
“All right. You about done?”
“I guess.”
“Find anything?” Jonelle asked.
The answer came in the form of a loud sneeze. “You think I’d still be in this mini version of a Kansas dust storm if I did? Gimme a break.”
Jonelle approached the far wall where a low, rectangular shape rested, draped in a white sheet. As she stood transfixed, she thought she saw something on top move. Jonelle’s heart thumped in her chest. Her pulse raced. The floor seemed to tip and roil beneath her feet. It felt as if she were on a boat being knocked about by several large waves.
“Uh, oh.” She muttered. She grabbed the arm of a cloaked chair to steady herself. Her heart pounded. “Gotta hurry,” she said out loud, afraid her claustrophobia was taking hold.
The floor rippled beneath her feet again. It stopped just as she tasted bile in the back of her throat. The room started spinning.
Gone Missing: A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 2 Page 7