Jonelle crinkled her nose in distaste. “Fruit? I was thinking more along the lines of candy and chips.”
Rainey laughed. “Go on, you. I got work to do.”
Jonelle turned and headed back to her office.
The rest of the morning flew by. Jonelle stopped for lunch and walked to the deli a block away. She ordered a tuna salad sandwich on rye with a pickle and iced tea to go. After eating the lunch at her desk, Jonelle debated what to do about Sally’s case.
Both her uncle and Rainey were right. Technically, she should close Sally’s case. Still, Jonelle hesitated. She stared at the computer screen with all her notes on the case. While she recovered the missing jewelry, who put the items in the chest, and why, still nagged at her. Yet, Sally only wanted the jewelry back and Jonelle had recovered both items. She typed “closed” at the bottom of the form, and pressed the send button.
At four twenty, Jonelle called Marcella’s office. The two agreed to meet in front of LucieBlu’s apartment at five o’clock that evening.
CHAPTER 15
Jonelle pulled in front of the garden-style apartment building and parked next to the curb. Two stories tall, and made of red brick, LucieBlu’s home was surrounded by neat hedges on the front and around the sides. “The Chateau” printed in white in old English script on a blue awning, hung above the entrance. She looked around, but didn’t see Marcella’s car. A quick check of her watch revealed she was five minutes early.
Jonelle grabbed her camera. Once outside the car, she studied the area. Across the street were two large, Victorian style houses. Both places had a “Room for Rent” sign out front. Zoned for multi-use, and with a college nearby, Jonelle assumed most of the rooms were rented to students. Which was a good thing for a person like LucieBlu. On the one hand, most students tolerated people’s differences. On the other, some of the cruelest acts involved young people.
A faint car honk caught her attention. Marcella’s white car passed by and pulled in a spot a few spaces away.
Jonelle stood under the awning and waited.
Marcella ambled up, swinging a lanyard in her hand. On the end of the cord were two keys. She inserted one key into the outside lock.
“Does the apartment key also open this outside lock?” Jonelle asked.
“No,” Marcella said, shaking her head.
“Then how… never mind,” Jonelle said. Since Marcella had only given Jonelle the apartment key, she wondered how she would’ve gotten in if she’d been by herself. Was Marcella deliberately hindering Jonelle, or was the woman just dense?
“You go first,” Jonelle said.
Marcella walked past a row of mailboxes set flush against the right wall. Straight ahead three carpeted steps led up to a landing. After the steps, Marcella took a sharp left turn and went up two more, short flights of stairs. At the top, overhead recessed lights illuminated a narrow hallway. She stopped in front of apartment thirty-six.
“This is it.”
Jonelle inserted the key in the lock and the two entered.
Several posters covered the walls. Jonelle recognized recent Broadway plays—a few dramas, but mostly musicals—as well as community theater productions. She wondered why LucieBlu would want a constant reminder she lost the lead in each one. The kitchen and dining room blended together. The living room was bigger than Marcella’s, minus the balcony.
Jonelle snapped pictures of the red leather sofa and matching chair. A console with a small flat screen television sat in a corner against the wall. Magazines, papers and letters covered an end table and the small dining room table. Most of the envelopes looked like bills and all were unopened. A quick glance revealed the latest postmark date was over a week ago.
“Did she have any trouble paying her bills?” Jonelle asked.
“No. Sometimes she was late, but that was more because she forgot, not that she didn’t have the money.” Marcella reached for one of the envelopes.
“Don’t touch anything,” Jonelle said. “If this turns out to be more than a missing person’s case, I don’t want anyone accusing us of messing things up in here. Not anymore than it’s already messed up.”
Jonelle turned toward the tiny kitchen. There was a bowl, a plate and two mugs in the sink. She motioned Marcella over.
“Any idea why there’d be two mugs? Do you think she had company?”
Marcella shook her head. “The one thing she liked was her coffee. For some reason, she didn’t like using the same mug. Whenever she wanted more coffee, she’d get a clean cup.”
Marcella opened a top cupboard. “See? Two whole shelves with just coffee mugs. She collected them whenever we went someplace new.”
“Okay,” Jonelle said. “What else can you show me?”
“The bedroom’s down here.” Marcella headed down the hallway and stopped at an open door on the right.
Jonelle peered inside. Clothes covered the bed and the floor. On top of the dresser, makeup competed with underwear.
“Goodness,” Jonelle whispered.
“I know,” Marcella said. “She wasn’t very tidy. Yet, she kept her desk neat at work. Go figure.”
Jonelle tip-toed into the room, trying hard not to step on anything. “How on earth can you tell if anything’s missing?”
“Believe it or not, there’s actually a method to this madness,” Marcella responded. She waved her hand around the room. “As you can see, the dresser is reserved for all her makeup and some underwear. The floor is where she flung her work clothes, hence all the skirts and tops. And,” Marcella turned toward the bed, “this is where she threw the clothes when she had a hard time deciding what to wear when we went out.”
“Amazing.”
Marcella moved a few dresses over to one side and sat on the bed. “This place looks the same. I don’t see anything different.”
Jonelle snapped more pictures. She motioned Marcella away from the bed. “Put the clothes back the way they were please.”
Marcella did as instructed.
After photographing the bed, Jonelle focused on the walls. Photos covered most of the space. The vast majority of the pictures came from magazines. Some looked as if they were taken with a camera. Jonelle squinted at a few. There were a lot of pictures of Marcella and LucieBlu on the beach, in front of historic-looking cathedrals and standing below England’s Big Ben.
“The two of you took vacations together?”
“Sure. I’ve always liked to travel, but… I had a hard time getting someone to go with me. When I met LucieBlu she said she also liked traveling. So whenever we both could afford it, we took a few trips.”
“Like where for instance? Just curious.”
“Well,” Marcella began. She walked toward the closet and tripped over a shoe.
“Careful,” Jonelle warned.
Marcella ran her hand over the clothes hanging on the rod. “Other than her favorite green dress, everything else is here.”
“Okay. About the vacations.”
“Right. Well, last summer we went to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We were there a week.” Marcella walked over to the photo wall and pointed to one of the pictures. “We got a nice couple to take this picture of us in front of one of the dunes.”
Marcella fingered the picture. “We were making plans to visit Rome before she… ”
Jonelle waited for Marcella to finish. When she didn’t, Jonelle decided to explore the relationship between the two friends.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Marcella,” Jonelle said. “But it seems as if you two really needed each other. More so than average, adult friendships would warrant. Do I have that right?”
With her eyes still on the photos, Marcella traced the edges of some of the pictures of the two of them together. “Um, um, okay, okay. I guess that’s right,” she said.
Marcella turned and faced Jonelle. “LucieBlu needed help adjusting to being transgender as smoothly as possible. She often called just to talk about what it was like knowing most peo
ple considered you a freak.” Although Marcella smiled, Jonelle noted the sadness in her eyes.
“I did the best I could. We tried hard to convey we were just two regular girlfriends going out and having a good time. Most of the time we succeeded. When we didn’t, well…” Marcella shrugged. “Sometimes people got nasty.”
“How did the both of you handle that?”
Marcella smiled. There was a spark in her eyes. “We got real good at throwing zingers at all the up-tights. That’s what we called them. You know the type. They walk around like they’ve got crap in their noses and a pole shoved up their ass. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I’ve experienced those types of people as well.” Jonelle shifted her gaze back to the dresser. She noticed there were no family pictures.
“What do you know about her relatives?”
“Not much. That’s the one area she pretty much kept to herself. Every time I brought it up, she’d change the subject. I got the feeling they weren’t close. That’s one of the reasons I came to you instead of the cops. I don’t know how to contact her family.”
Jonelle said nothing for a moment. “Do you think they’re still alive? Maybe the reason she didn’t want to discuss them is because they’re deceased.”
Marcella shook her head. “No, that’s the one thing she said. Both her parents are alive. They live somewhere in Illinois.”
“What about names?” Jonelle took the small notebook out of her purse.
“Her father’s name is Steven Brown. That’s Steven with a ‘v’ not ‘p-h.”
“Got it. What’s her mother’s name?”
“Caroline. And she has one brother. His name’s Frederick. I have no idea where he lives.”
Because of the mess, the area seemed smaller. Much smaller. Jonelle’s chest felt as though something heavy was lodged inside.
“What else can you tell me about her? I’m starting to get a real feel for the type of person she was, I mean is. It might help in finding her.”
“Well,” Marcella began. “She liked fixing broken appliances. Stuff like toasters, blenders, mixers, that kind of thing. She was really good at it. Oh, and don’t let her see a stray cat or dog anywhere. I’d have to stop, she’d run out and get it and then we’d have to find a vet to take it to.” Marcella smiled. “We’d try to find different vets, so they’d keep taking the animals and not think we were just dumping critters on them.”
“But she doesn’t have any pets, right?”
With a shrug, Marcella wagged her arms around the room. “She’d lose a poor animal in this apartment. Besides, management said no pets allowed.”
Something bothered Jonelle. Her eyes landed on the open closet with all the clothes crammed inside.
“Step over here a minute,” Jonelle said.
Marcella obliged and stood next to Jonelle.
“You said you knew which dress and shoes were missing, right?”
“Um, um, okay, okay, yes. Yes, I think I did.”
“Well, what I’m wondering is how? This place is a mess, plus she’s got a lot of clothes. I have a best friend who seems to wear a different outfit every time I see her, but I don’t think I could figure out what was missing from her wardrobe. Unless I went through each and every item. And even then, I’d be hard pressed to be all that accurate.” Jonelle looked Marcella in the eye. “So, how can you be so sure?”
After shifting her weight from foot to foot, Marcella turned and marched back to the living room. Without saying a word, she plunked down on the sofa, arms crossed. She looked like a teenager who’d just been caught sneaking in her bedroom window.
Jonelle waited for the mini tantrum to pass.
“I did not lie to you. I was honest about the last time I saw LucieBlu. It’s just that, the uh, circumstances were different.”
“How so?”
Marcella reached for her hair and stopped. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “I know what she had on because I saw her later that night.”
Jonelle felt her blood pressure rising.
“She didn’t see me,” Marcella said. “She was at our usual hangout, and it was crowded. Everyone was talking about the parade earlier that day. I was there with someone else. I didn’t want her to see who I was with.” Marcella hung her head. “LucieBlu was still there when I left.”
The leather chair creaked under Jonelle’s weight as she sat down. Once again, she caught Marcella holding back information. She doubted the woman would understand that omission was almost the same thing as outright lying.
After a few moments, Jonelle felt confident enough to speak without shouting.
“Why didn’t you want her to see who you were with?”
“Because Autumn is another trans, and they don’t get along. Autumn is nice and wanted a friend who wasn’t transgender. So I offered to be there for her whenever she needed to talk. But we didn’t have the same friendship that I had, have, with LucieBlu.”
“Why didn’t LucieBlu like her?”
“She felt Autumn wasn’t a ‘true’ trans. That she was pretending to be one. Just for the attention.”
Jonelle frowned. “Kind of a weird way to get attention. Why not just cross dress or something for crissakes?”
Marcella shrugged. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Did you ever witness any of their interactions?”
Marcella looked away. This time she allowed her fingers to delve into her hair. “Well. This one time Autumn came up to me and LucieBlu drinking at the bar. At first, everything was friendly. You know, in a ‘how’s it going’ kind of thing. Next, Autumn starts poking fun of LucieBlu’s clothes. Saying she’d given that same dress to Goodwill last week. They started yelling at each other. I had to drag LucieBlu away before things got really ugly.”
Jonelle made a mental note to check out Autumn. She put the camera back in her bag and looked around one more time. “I’m done here for now,” she said. “I need to go to that club.”
“It won’t be any good going tonight. The regulars won’t be there. During the week it’s just a place where office workers get lunch. Monday through Thursday they close at seven in the evening. Friday is when you’d most likely find someone who could help.”
Jonelle hesitated. She weighed what Marcella said and decided it made sense.
“Fine. You and I will go there this Friday. I need to talk to everyone who knew LucieBlu. Especially Autumn.”
Marcella nodded.
“Oh and one other thing,” Jonelle said.
Marcella stopped just outside the apartment.
“Do not, I repeat, do not call anyone at the club—including Autumn—to tell them I’m coming.”
Marcella opened her mouth to say something. She closed it without comment as she registered the look on Jonelle’s face.
“One more thing. When the two of you went out, who usually drove?”
After locking the apartment and testing the knob to make sure, Marcella faced Jonelle. “You know, for all of LucieBlu’s cries of wanting to be an independent female, she never learned to drive.”
CHAPTER 16
While seated at her desk the next morning, Jonelle transcribed the notes she’d made from the visit to LucieBlu’s apartment. She uploaded all the pictures, included them in the report and also set up a separate photo file. Should the case evolve from a missing person and into a crime, she wanted to hand over everything and avoid throwing any suspicions on herself. “If the police end up giving Marcella the third degree, I’ll not stand in their way,” she said to herself.
Jonelle checked her watch. Ten o’clock already. She examined the community playhouse production sheets and called the backstage number. A female voice answered. Jonelle asked which cast members were rehearsing today.
“Is this the detective from the other day,” the voice asked.
“Yes,” Jonelle replied. She thought a moment. “Is this Elissa?”
“Sure is. How are things going, with uh, you know.”
&
nbsp; “Fine,” Jonelle said, “making progress. Is today a good time for me to stop by? Maybe talk to Peter and Kendra?”
Jonelle heard muffled movement in the background. It sounded as though Elissa had covered the phone.
“Sherman says come on over.”
Jonelle agreed to arrive at the back door instead of the front.
After informing Rainey where she’d be the rest of the morning, Jonelle headed out to the theater. While she had asked to talk to both Peter and Kendra, Peter was her main target. She wanted to find out more about his relationship with LucieBlu.
Jonelle pulled into the parking lot at the rear of the playhouse. A plain gray door with “Staff” stenciled in black, was the only means of entry on that side of the building. There was no door knob, but Elissa left it cracked open so Jonelle could enter.
Once inside, Jonelle removed the broom handle wedged in the door. She stood still a moment while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Up ahead a faint glow beckoned and she moved toward the light. Afraid she’d stumble over something, she held her hands out in front of her like a caricature of Frankenstein attacking the villagers.
“Hello,” Jonelle called out to the people moving about on the stage. A few turned at the sound of her voice. Sherman stood stage left and waved when he saw her.
“Hope I’m not disturbing anything,” Jonelle said.
“Not at all,” Sherman replied.
Jonelle took in everyone on stage. She recalled a game she played as a child and tried to pick out the person that would most likely to… whatever. In this case, her eyes rested on a sandy haired young man. He had a runners body and the practiced stubble of a guy who knew just when to shave and how much to keep in order to maintain that practiced, rugged look. Jonelle pegged him as Peter Dell.
“Come,” Sherman said, motioning for Jonelle to follow him. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”
Jonelle noted a few surprised looks as Sherman announced her occupation.
“A detective?” This from an attractive light-skinned black man.
Jonelle turned toward him. She quickly gauged him to be in his early thirties, around her age, stocky but not fat and a few inches taller.
Gone Missing: A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 2 Page 9