Gone Missing: A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 2

by R. Lanier Clemons

  Jonelle noticed the tables were exact replicas of the ones downstairs. Pink tablecloths covered each surface and in the middle a small lamp with three white cloth shades concealed low wattage bulbs. Four chairs surrounded each table. Up above, ceiling fans circulated cool air. Few of the tables were occupied.

  A quick glance at a waiter placing food before a customer brought Jonelle back to the reason why she was in the club. “Are these the usual servers?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Marcella said, looking around. “I don’t see anyone new. The faces are familiar, but I don’t know all their names. Whenever LucieBlu and I came here to eat, we always tried to sit at this table. Curtis usually waited on us.” Marcella moved around in her seat. “Don’t see him though.”

  “Doesn’t matter right now.” Jonelle noticed a woman standing off to one side, dressed in the black slacks, white blouse, black vest and striped bowtie the other wait staff wore. “What about her? Do you think she’d remember seeing LucieBlu?”

  “Malcolm?” Marcella smiled at Jonelle’s confusion. “He’s a queen. Sure, he’d remember. And good for you, he likes to talk.” Marcella waved Malcolm over.

  “Hello, dears,” he said. He wiggled a finger at Marcella. “Now, you know this isn’t my table. Curtis will have a fit if he thought I was stealing his tips.” Malcolm zeroed in on Jonelle. “You’re not a regular, are you?” Before she could answer, he narrowed his eyes and stepped back a few feet. “Are you a cop? I can smell them a mile away.” He frowned at Marcella. “I hope you told your friend here that this is a legitimate place.”

  “Relax,” Marcella said. “She’s a private investigator. I’ve hired Ms. Sweet, Jonelle that is, to find LucieBlu. She’s missing.”

  “O… M… G… ,” Malcolm said, as he plopped down next to Jonelle. “I knew I hadn’t seen her in a while. Whatever do you think happened?” He cupped a hand under his chin and stared at Jonelle.

  “That’s what I’m here to find out,” Jonelle said. She cleared her throat and tried not to stare at Malcolm’s thick, fake eyelashes, electric blue eye shadow and shoulder length Tina Turner blond wig.

  “When was the last time you saw LucieBlu?” Jonelle asked.

  Malcolm stared at the ceiling. “Well, let me marinate on that a second. Hmm. We get a lot of guys and dolls in here.” He looked over at Marcella. “Would that be around the parade?”

  Marcella nodded. “We think she was here that Saturday with a guy. Light skinned, African American. Real attractive.”

  “Oh, yes,” Malcolm said, snapping his fingers. “I remember now. I’d seen him here before. He’s hot, but kind of stuck up though. Excuse me, but that’s how he appeared. He always looked at us as if he just sucked on a lemon.” He shot a sideways glance at Jonelle.

  “Anyway, I can only tell you what went on up here,” Malcolm continued. “They already had drinks in their hands when they sat in my station. I noticed right away because I remember thinking LucieBlu and the dude must be getting serious. I mean, more than one date with the same person is serious stuff in my world. They hadn’t been here long before Autumn sashayed over and said something to them.”

  Jonelle noticed Marcella blanched when he mentioned Autumn.

  “What did Autumn say? How did they respond?” Jonelle wanted someone to corroborate Peter’s version of the story.

  “Don’t know what they were saying because I couldn’t hear,” Malcolm said. “Anyway, whatever it was must’ve been funny, because Autumn laughed as she strutted away. When I went over to take their order, LucieBlu looked pissed. She shouted at me. Told me not to rush her; to come back later.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Gave her a dirty look and walked over to another customer.” Malcolm’s expression showed the memory of LucieBlu’s reaction was still fresh.

  “Was her response unusual?”

  “Sure was. She was always a sweetie when she was with Marcella here.” Malcolm patted Marcella’s hand.

  Marcella beamed at the compliment.

  “What else do you remember?”

  “Well,” Malcolm said. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I went over to the side and shot them both my best dagger look. But it was useless. They were too involved with each other. I could tell that they were having some kind of argument.” Malcolm hesitated. “Say. Do you think the guy had something to do with LucieBlu going missing?”

  Jonelle ignored the question. “Could you hear what they were quarrelling about?”

  “Not a first. After a bit, the hunk motioned me over. LucieBlu was saying how she’d had enough with all the phonies. She said she was sick of frauds like him.”

  “What did he do?”

  Malcolm shrugged. “He was actually pretty cool. Said he wanted another drink. Then he asked her what she wanted and she said, this is a direct quote, ‘I’d like for you to get the… f-bomb… out of my life, you flamin’ hypocrite.’ Except she used the word, you know?”

  Arms folded on the table, Marcella stared at Malcolm, mouth slightly open. “Then what happened?” Marcella asked. “Sorry, Jonelle.”

  “No problem. What happened next?”

  Malcolm stood. “Mr. Handsome left her sitting there. Which is part of why I thought he was a shit. He must’ve known LucieBlu didn’t drive, so how did he think she was going to get home? I feel bad now, considering, but at the time, I was kinda glad he left her there. Served her right for being rude. Oh, damn. I shouldn’t be saying that. What if…” He sighed.

  “Peter mentioned she might have gotten a ride or took the bus home from the club,” Jonelle said.

  Malcolm giggled. “Peter? His name is really Peter? That’s rich.”

  “What do you think?” Jonelle asked Marcella.

  “The bus stop is right outside and it drops her off less than a block from her apartment. It wasn’t a problem. She did it a lot when I couldn’t come with her. She knew the regular bus driver real well.”

  A young man with pale blue eyes walked up to the table. He tapped Malcolm on the shoulder. “Get away from my customers, you old crone. You know the rules.”

  As Malcolm turned toward his accuser, Jonelle raised her index finger to indicate she still had a few more questions to ask. “Just a sec. Malcolm and I were discussing LucieBlu Bonderant. You’re Curtis I presume?”

  The young man nodded. “Why are you interested in LucieBlu?”

  “She’s missing, Curtis,” Marcella said. “Jonelle is trying to find out what happened to her.”

  “Oh. Sorry,” Curtis said, looking at Malcolm.

  “Better be,” Malcolm said. He turned on his heel and stomped off.

  Rather than go after Malcolm, she figured Curtis could provide the information she needed. “So, Malcolm said he last saw LucieBlu Saturday night sometime after the parade with an African American man who left her here,” Jonelle said. “Do you remember that?”

  “Not really,” he said. “Don’t recall seeing her that Saturday night because I was downstairs helping out behind the bar.”

  As if on cue, the noise from downstairs erupted as more dancers gyrated in time to the music. Jonelle peeked over the railing and saw she’d have to fight her way through the crowd to get to the front door. She handed Curtis two cards. “Please give one to Malcolm. If either of you remember anything else about LucieBlu’s last time here, please give me a call.”

  Curtis studied the card. “Sure. Don’t you wanna know about Sunday?”

  “Sunday?”

  “Right. I saw her come up the stairs. She sat down by herself and ordered her usual stuffed mushrooms and nachos with the works. To top it all off, she ordered a bottle of champagne. That was a new one.”

  Jonelle looked at Marcella. The expression on her face was blank.

  “Just to be clear. You say she was here by herself Sunday. Correct?”

  Curtis nodded.

  “Do you remember what she was wearing?”

  “Her favorite green dress. She really looked hot in
that dress.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Jonelle did not look forward to going back to Rainbows and Lollipops the next night. LucieBlu was seen at the club two nights in a row, and Jonelle needed to find out what happened. Marcella had a date and couldn’t go with her, or so she claimed. She advised Jonelle to go to the club after midnight, because that’s when everyone would be there. Try as she might, Jonelle could not convince Adrienne to accompany her either. Before she left home, Jonelle drank two cups of strong coffee.

  Uncomfortable and caffeine nervous, Jonelle stood outside the club and checked her watch. “Damn,” she said to herself. “Only ten minutes after midnight.” This time she didn’t care about blending in or not. She wore a plain white sleeveless blouse, black skirt with gold belt and gold Mary Janes. Good work clothes. She took two, deep breaths and entered.

  Instead of going upstairs, Jonelle fought her way over to the bar, avoiding eye contact with everyone she passed. Again, her awkwardness surprised her. Some private detective she was. Afraid of… what exactly? Jonelle took another deep breath. Behind the bar, three bartenders served customers stacked two deep. She used her height to advantage and waited for one of them to acknowledge her presence. She caught the eye of the shortest bartender and signaled for his attention.

  A few moments later, he approached. Before Jonelle could ask him about LucieBlu he looked her up and down with amusement. “You’re that detective looking for LucieBlu,” he said more as a statement than a question.

  “How did you know that?”

  “We already got the down low from Curtis and Malcolm.” He shouted to be heard above the din. “We’re real busy so you better ask your questions quick like.”

  A dull pain began at the back of her neck and migrated to the top of her head. At this rate her head would explode if the noise stayed at the same level. Two women squeezed next to her, one on either side. At least she thought they were women. One had more piercings than her granny’s old pin cushion. The other leaned in and pressed against Jonelle’s hip. Jonelle moved away. The woman giggled. Somewhat unnerved, Jonelle yelled her question.

  “I heard that LucieBlu came alone that Sunday. Do you remember if she was by herself all evening?”

  The bartender pointed to his ear and shook his head. He motioned for her to follow him down to the far end. He said something to the red-haired bartender and went out from behind the bar. Jonelle moved as fast as she could away from the two women. She kept her eye on the bartender’s back as he zig-zagged through a throng of people and pushed his way beyond two double doors. She found herself in a large, brightly lit kitchen. The clanging of pots and pans and the occasional shouts for order requests was welcome to her ears.

  “Whew, this is better. How do you stand the noise out there?”

  The young man shrugged. “You get used to it. Now, what were you saying?”

  Not wanting him to disappear before she could ask him questions, Jonelle used a short hand version. “LucieBlu. Sunday. Alone. Did you notice?” She ticked each point off her finger.

  “Yes. I noticed. I have a soft spot in my heart for all trans people. In some ways, they have it harder than gays and drag queens. Imagine being born biologically one way, yet your soul knows it goes the other. Brutal.”

  There was something different about the person standing before her. “What’s your name?”

  He smiled. “Not important.”

  She matched his expression. “You’re straight, aren’t you?”

  “Gotta earn a living,” he said with a shrug. “I go to law school during the day and I work here weekends. The pay is okay, but the tips are awesome.”

  “You don’t mind… you know.” She cocked her head toward the double doors.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Most know I’m straight. And before you ask, sometimes I do get asked out. When I say I’m into women, they back off. No harm. No foul.”

  The smell of meat sizzling in pans and vegetables cooking in pots, combined with the warmth in the kitchen took hold of Jonelle and made her drowsy. The feeling in the room reminded her it was past her bed time. “Let’s get back to LucieBlu. Tell me what you remember the last time you saw her.”

  “I thought about this,” he said.

  Jonelle waited.

  “Most of what I know I heard from other people, ‘cause I’m mostly stuck behind the bar. That night, she was trying too hard to have a good time. Know what I mean?”

  “Not really.”

  “She was brandishing a bottle of champagne, hanging all over people, telling risqué jokes. That wasn’t like her. She drank way more than she usually did.”

  “Was there anyone in particular she was hanging with?”

  “Not that I heard, but -”

  The doors opened. The red-haired bartender pointed to his co-worker. “Hey. We need you out here. Now.” He gave Jonelle a dirty look and left.

  She ignored the look. “But what?”

  “Some of our regulars pointed out a few guys who gave them the creeps. This place gets its share of gawkers. Mostly its guys who swear they’re not gay, but still like to come in and stare. Once they’ve seen the place, they don’t come back.”

  “What made these guys creepy if all they did was stare?”

  He moved toward the door. “That’s just it. They kept taking pictures with their phones. And one person swears they were in here the day before doing the same thing.”

  Jonelle still didn’t see what the problem was and said so. “Maybe they were tourists and wanted to go back to Idaho or wherever to show the folks what life was like in the big bad city. Did this person notice if they were taking pictures of LucieBlu?”

  “Oh yeah. In fact, they seemed to only take pictures of the women.”

  Jonelle found that curious. “Before you go, let me ask you something. Would you know if these same guys are here tonight?”

  With one hand pressed against the door, the bartender turned and looked at Jonelle.

  “Oh, they’re here all right. I saw them before we entered the kitchen.”

  CHAPTER 22

  With her headache reduced to a mild throb thanks to the cup of coffee she received from the bartender, Jonelle wandered around the edges of the club. She felt sure she could spot the picture taking tourists. They would stick out as much as she did.

  What if LucieBlu didn’t take the bus and instead gotten a ride with a stranger? Even worse, if she did take the bus, considering the state she was in, was it safe that late at night? The air in the club was heavy with the scent of competing fragrances and sweaty bodies. As Jonelle wandered through the crowd, she kept an eye out for the gawkers. She checked her watch. Only a quarter to one. Jonelle suppressed a groan. She was starting to appreciate the regular hours of Sally’s case. Never mind whatever creepy-crawlies were in the attic. Jonelle shuddered at the memory.

  The crowd at the bar had grown in size from the time she went into the kitchen, to the time she came out again. No one paid any attention to her constant “excuse me’s” so she stopped saying the words. Instead, she kept her eyes up, mouth set, determined to reach the stairs leading up to the second floor.

  Once upstairs, she peered around the room, hoping to see either Curtis or Malcolm. She spotted them bustling around, taking care of customers. Jonelle stood on the top step and leaned against the railing. She studied the crowd below, looking for anyone who appeared out of place. Bodies writhed to the pulsing beat of the music played by the DJ in the far corner. Before she realized it, she was swaying in time to the music. The hypnotic scene playing down below almost lulled her into a sense of forgetting why she was there in the first place. She shook herself. Concentrate. You’re here to work, not play.

  Her eyes moved to the area opposite the bar and she came to attention. Up against the back wall, phones raised in their hands, stood two men. Both were dressed in leather jackets and jeans. Jonelle watched one elbow the other and point to a woman in a tight red dress and spiked heels. They both laughed. Jone
lle observed one of the men aim his camera in the woman’s direction.

  Afraid she wouldn’t be able to find them again in the crush of bodies downstairs, Jonelle looked around and spied Malcolm. She caught his eye and summoned him over.

  “Hiya, doll,” he said. “You’re gonna have to wait for a table to clear if you’d like anything to eat.”

  “That’s not why I called you over,” she said. “I need you to do me a favor.” Jonelle pointed to the two men, still standing in the same spot. “See those two dressed alike with the camera phones?”

  Malcolm’s eyes followed where Jonelle pointed. “Those two guys? Yeah, I see them. Looks like the same yokels that were here last week.” He frowned. “That’s strange. We don’t usually get repeat tourists in here. Once is usually enough for those people.”

  “Do me a favor. I want to talk to those guys, but I’m afraid I might lose them in the crowd downstairs. As long as they don’t move from where they are now, I shouldn’t have a problem. Keep your eye on them. I’ll look up here and if I’m still going in the right direction, give me a thumbs up. If I’m losing them, give a thumbs down. Okay?”

  Malcolm’s blond wig bobbed up and down with delight. “You bet,” he said. “Wait until everybody hears how I helped in an investigation.”

  Jonelle smiled at his enthusiasm and rushed down the stairs.

  CHAPTER 23

  Jonelle wound around the dance floor and headed toward the back wall where she last saw the two men. She risked a quick look upstairs. Malcolm gave her a thumbs up. Unlike at the theater where she found few people willing to talk without prodding and prompting, everyone at Rainbows and Lollipops seemed all too willing to help. At least so far.

  Jonelle advanced behind the last row of tables as fast as the crush of bodies allowed. In order to help keep her claustrophobia at bay, she thought of finding LucieBlu. She hoped she would have the opportunity to meet her. In spite of the initial embarrassment of searching for a transgender, Jonelle found the woman’s life fascinating. Jonelle stopped several times and allowed people to pass on their way to the dance floor. She tried hard not to stare. Pink hair, purple hair, and wearing more makeup than at a Macy’s cosmetics counter, this crowd was far more flamboyant than the Friday night group. More leather, studs and piercings were displayed in the club than at a punk concert. At least she thought so, since she’d never actually seen a punk band in person. She wondered what her co-workers would think of her mingling with this group. At the next staff meeting, she might leave this part out of her report.