Peter sneered and waved the gun in her face. “Just keep going straight. We’ll make our own damn path. Looks like nobody comes through this way. If I’m lucky, you won’t be found for a long time.”
Jonelle remained rooted to the spot. “I can’t believe you’re doing all this because of some damn relationship with a trans person. Especially, if… I get it now. LucieBlu discovered your secret. Isn’t that right? You really are a whack job, you know that?” Jonelle decided that going out with a bang was far preferable than leaving this life with a whimper.
Peter glowered at Jonelle.
“It wouldn’t have come to this if that damn, mousy busy-body of a friend of hers, had just left well enough alone. After a few days, everyone would have assumed LucieBlu just took off. Or she’d just be another missing person that disappeared into thin air. But no, she had to go and hire you.” Peter tightened the grip on the gun. “LucieBlu would’ve died on that street. Problem solved.”
Jonelle felt circumstances shift to her advantage. “See, Peter, that’s where you’re wrong. There was a witness that night at the warehouse. A homeless man watched the beating. He’s the one who shouted at you. Remember? He took care of LucieBlu and it was fate more than anything that led me to her. So, it was only a matter of time until you were identified.”
Predator and prey stared at each other, insects swarming around their heads. Peter slapped something on the side of his neck and swore.
“Shut up and keep moving.”
Jonelle continued on, fighting her way around trees and bushes. Her chest hurt from forcing air into her lungs. Her hands were cut and sore and for a moment she hoped there wasn’t any poison ivy. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she realized how ridiculous it was. A case of poison ivy was the least of her concerns.
The ground sloped again. Trees and bushes closed in. Directly in front of Jonelle, an immense downed tree blocked her way. Beyond that, a small stream, its bed bordered by rocks, flowed below. She stopped.
“Hey. I said keep moving. We need to go deeper.”
“I can’t go through the damn tree,” she shouted, pissed at the mess she got herself into. “This is absurd.”
“Then go around it,” he said, poking her in the back with the barrel of the gun.
Jonelle sought another route. Several feet to her right, the branches of the tree were smaller and looked as if they could be separated far enough to allow her to slip through. They also gave her an idea. She kept walking until she reached the top most part of the tree. She lifted her hand.
“Watch it,” Peter said.
“For all my many talents, being able to walk through solid objects isn’t one of them.”
“You know, I never really liked you,” Peter said. “I could sense from that first time we met, that you were a smart ass who didn’t know her place. Just like LucieBlu.”
Jonelle raised an eyebrow. “And if I knew then, what I know now, we could’ve saved us both a lot of time and effort. ‘Course I would like to thank you for the meals. For what it’s worth, you had me fooled.” And she hated that. Is this what the quest for companionship does to a person? She should have stayed with her first impression of the man. She reached for the branch again. With her hand up, she grasped the limb, pushed it forward and ducked under. As soon as her head and feet cleared, she released the branch. She heard Peter yell as the limb swung back and slammed into his face.
The blow knocked him off balance. Jonelle saw the gun fly from his hand and had a split second to decide whether to make a run for it, or try to get the gun. She wanted that gun.
Jonelle fought her way back through the branches as Peter struggled to his knees. As his eyes scanned the ground looking for the gun, Jonelle raised her leg and kicked him on the side of his head, drawing more blood. He screamed. “You crazy bitch.”
“Takes one to know one.” Jonelle looked around for the weapon and didn’t see it. She picked up a large rock, aimed for his head and threw it at his face. The rock connected with his nose.
Peter’s face erupted in a fountain of blood. He grabbed his head with both hands and screamed.
Jonelle flung branches and leaves aside hunting for the gun. While Peter moaned in pain, she kicked around at the undergrowth a few feet behind him and saw it. The gun rested next to a rotting tree trunk. She picked up the automatic and aimed it at the back of Peter’s head. With her other hand, she wiped sweat from her eyes.
“Thanks for a crappy date,” she said. “Come on, get up. As hot and upset as I am right now, I don’t think you should doubt whether or not I’d shoot if I had to.” Fact is, the gun’s smooth surface felt comfortable in her hand. One quick squeeze and it would be over. Jonelle shook her head to clear her mind.
“You’ve got to help me.” Peter whimpered. “I think I’m bleeding to death.”
Jonelle snorted. “That would save everyone a lot of time and expense if you were. But I don’t think so. I’m not going to say this again. Get. Up.”
Peter leaned against the fallen tree and pulled himself up. He wobbled but did not fall.
His handsome face now covered with blood, attracted more flies and insects. He swatted at them in a feeble attempt to keep them at bay. Jonelle almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Despite everything, based on what she’d learned about the trans lifestyle, she’d continue to refer to Peter as “him.”
They walked back the way they came. Peter stumbled and fell every time Jonelle urged him faster. She stayed a few feet behind and made no attempt to help him to his feet. As they hiked along, Jonelle realized she had to find some way to bind him up to prevent him from trying to get the gun back. She didn’t have anything on her that would serve as a restraint.
A glance at the thin, leather belt around his waist gave her an idea, but she discounted it almost immediately. Jonelle doubted she could tighten the belt enough to keep Peter’s hands secure.
“Can we please stop and rest?” Peter asked. He propped himself against a tree. The swelling in his nose and face muffled his voice.
“Nope. Wasn’t my idea to hike so far in these woods. Keep going.” The longer they walked the more determined she became to see the man in front of her prosecuted as far as the law allowed. He should pay not only for what he did to LucieBlu, but also for what he wanted to do to her.
As time passed, Jonelle felt uneasy. Never good at directions, she wondered if they were headed the right way. Almost as soon as she imagined that Peter had some kind of plan for keeping her in the woods, she glimpsed something shiny winking through the trees. The angle of the sun, positioned lower in the sky, reflected off the car’s bumper. She almost shouted with joy. Jonelle, with Peter struggling in front of her, made it to his BMW.
With her hand closed around the gun and pointed at Peter, she rushed to the driver’s side. She didn’t worry he’d bolt. Where could he go? Back in the woods? One look at his bloated and bloodied face dispelled all worry. Peter looked defeated. All the bravado he displayed before evaporated. The man in front of her looked as soft as ice cream on a hot summer day. For one very brief moment she considered letting him sit in the passenger seat beside her while she drove back to town.
Her training as a PI won out and she shook her head, remembering again that the man was an actor. That made the decision easy. She reached in the car and popped the trunk. She smiled at the luggage sitting inside. Grabbing a small roller bag and laptop case, she threw both in the convertible’s back seat.
She pointed to the trunk’s interior. “Get in,” she said.
CHAPTER 41
Jonelle found the roundtrip indicator on the car’s GPS and reversed the directions which would take her back to the theater parking lot. Unconcerned with how much air Peter might or might not be getting, she nevertheless didn’t want to waste time with a body in the trunk.
Jonelle settled the car on the main highway and called Burt. She told him she was bringing in the suspect LucieBlu identified. Next, she phoned Rainey who advised Jonelle t
hat a detective North needed to speak to her regarding Sally Piedmont. Jonelle’s heart sank when Rainey told her the police had charged Sally with the murder of Hugh Rhys-Morton.
Forty-five minutes later, two uniforms and two detectives, including Burt, stood waiting for Jonelle as she pulled in front of the station. Burt’s eyes widened as he took in the silver convertible.
“Not mine,” Jonelle said as she got out.
“Good lord, you look a mess,” Burt said.
“Thanks a bunch for that.” Jonelle pointed to the trunk. “He’s back there. Hold a sec.” She popped the latch.
“Jeeze, ma’am. What did you do to him?” one of the uniforms asked. “Should we call the EMT’s?” He looked at Burt.
The other uniform helped Peter out of the trunk. The hot enclosure hadn’t dried the blood so it was still wet. His face appeared more swollen, but the fire in his eyes showed he was more angry than hurt. To his credit, Peter managed to remain standing on his own.
“We’d better get them over here, just in case,” Burt said. He looked at Jonelle with a mixture of humor and respect.
Jonelle lowered her voice. “Just so you know, Peter’s a little different.”
Burt frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Think LucieBlu, but in reverse.”
Burt opened his mouth, then closed it again. He shook his head over and over. He rubbed thick fingers through close-cropped hair, and walked around the car several times.
Jonelle waited a few minutes while Burt composed himself before handing over Peter’s gun. “I didn’t fire it, and neither did he. At least not at me. You should find both our fingerprints on it. I have no idea if it’s registered or not.” Burt took a pen from his pocket and slid it through the barrel so as not to touch the weapon and motioned to a uniformed cop who produced an evidence bag. “I think we’ve got a first here, Jonelle,” Burt said. “As far back as I can recall, I don’t remember having a suspect delivered directly to our door.”
The whoop, whoop of sirens announced the ambulance as it pulled into the lot. One officer took Peter Dell’s arm and led him to the waiting vehicle. “I’ll inform the intake sergeant of Peter Dell’s unique… circumstances.”
The adrenaline rush Jonelle felt earlier had dissipated and exhaustion took hold. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this tired. All she wanted was to go home and take a hot bath. “Glad I could help,” she managed. “Say, do you think when I’m done here someone could take me to where I left my car? I need to talk to detective North first. He’s supposed to have more information about my other case. After that, I’m going home to lie down.” She yawned.
Burt put his hand on her shoulder. “We need you to make a statement first. Tell you what. I’ll take you to your car after you’re done with North. Come get me when you’re ready. Okay?”
Jonelle nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” After the ambulance left with lights flashing, Burt signed her in and they walked upstairs in silence. He used his badge to let them both in the division offices. Jonelle slumped down in his one guest chair without waiting for him to offer.
“Ready?” Burt asked. Jonelle nodded. He powered up his computer, clicked a few keys and began. “I’m going to read the information received from victim LucieBlu Bonderant regarding the night she was attacked.” He paused and looked over at her. She turned tired eyes on him, one arm on his desk, hand under her chin to keep her head from falling.
“Right. Ms. Bonderant says she was awakened by bus driver Marty Hunt in the early morning hours of Sunday, August twenty-third. She said she didn’t mean to fall asleep, but had too much to drink at the club… uh,” Burt squinted at the screen, “oh yeah, Rainbows and Lollipops. It’s a LGBT club,” Burt said.
“I know, I’ve been there a few times,” she said. Burt started to say something, but shut his mouth and continued reading.
“Ms. Bonderant admitted that she should have just waited for another bus, but felt so depressed she wasn’t thinking clearly. She just started walking with no destination in mind. She told us she wasn’t familiar with the area she found herself in, and that after a while started to feel nervous. There wasn’t much foot traffic and not that many cars. At about the time she said she thought of walking back to catch the next bus, she noticed a car behind her.” Burt stopped. He looked at Jonelle, who indicated with her hand for him to continue.
“At first she was scared until she recognized the vehicle,” Burt said.
“Let me guess, silver BMW with Peter Dell behind the wheel. Right?”
Burt nodded. “She told us Dell hopped out of the car. She thought he came to take her home, but instead he moved toward her with what she said looked like a tire iron. She screamed and ran toward a large building, trying to escape. According to her, she’d almost made it through the fence when Dell grabbed her by the hair and started hitting her, over and over. All she had time to do was try to protect herself. She remembered screaming and begging for him to stop, before blacking out. When she came to, a strange man with a rank odor,” he looked at Jonelle, “her words, not mine, and torn clothes was trying to get her to eat something. She doesn’t know who he was, but says he saved her life.
“That’s all we have from her so far. We’d like to find the homeless guy so we can corroborate her story. Our people have looked through that warehouse and patrolled the area and still can’t find him. It’s vital we speak to him, Jonelle.”
She leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “You can make your case against Peter without him. He didn’t see who attacked LucieBlu. If I come across him, I’ll tell him you want to ask him some questions.” She heard Burt’s frustrated sigh, but didn’t care if he was annoyed with her.
“Fine. I’ll leave the homeless guy. For now. Tell me everything that happened today between you and Peter Dell.”
With her head supported against the back of the chair, Jonelle went over her lunch date with Peter, from the time he picked her up, to the struggle in the woods, and their arrival at the station. Jonelle told him how she stumbled onto Peter’s secret. “LucieBlu figured out that Peter was also transgender. She got angry at his hypocrisy and according to him, she threatened to tell everyone his secret. He couldn’t let that get out, especially since he’d just gotten an audition in Hollywood, so he tried to silence her. Forever. To tell you the truth, when I looked at him, and thought back to the condition she was in when I found her, in addition to what he tried to do to me… Well, it’s a good thing I’m a professional or the raccoons would be feasting on him tonight.” She turned her head. Burt had a smile on his face.
“I had a feeling it was probably not a good idea to get on your bad side,” he said.
“Got that right.” Jonelle eased into a sitting position. She grimaced at the pain in her body. “Could you please call detective North over here? I know where his cubicle is, but I’m not so sure I have the strength to walk over there.”
“Why don’t we leave now? You can come back tomorrow.”
“No. Sally might need me.” Jonelle closed her eyes. She heard Burt pick up his phone but didn’t register what he actually said.
A few moments later, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Jonelle opened her eyes and saw North staring down at her.
“Go ahead and sit here,” Burt said to his colleague. “I’ve got to run down the hall for a few minutes.” Burt touched Jonelle on the arm. “I’ll be back when you’re done.”
Jonelle nodded. “Thanks, Burt.”
“I started to suggest you come to my office while I fill you in on the status of Mrs. Piedmont’s case, but the way you look, I can just as easily tell you right here.” North sat in Burt’s chair.
“Gee, thanks,” she said. “Guess I must really look bad.”
The grin on North’s face widened. “Let’s not press our luck, okay?”
Jonelle nodded, afraid of what was coming next.
North cleared his throat. “There are two types of cases that I hate. Those that involve kids and
those that concern the elderly. Every time I have to charge an older person with a crime, I think of my parents.”
A sense of profound sadness washed over Jonelle. She felt as if she she’d just received a dreaded three a.m., phone call. “Go on,” she said in a hushed voice.
“It’s pretty conclusive,” he said. “As I stated before, Mr. Rhys-Morton died of arsenic poisoning and had traces of it in his system over a period of time. Once we determined death came as a result of poisoning, forensics went back to her place. The first time the team was there, they just searched inside the house and the small storage shed out back. Nothing. The next time, they combed the grounds around the house and found a small green container with rat poison buried in between two rose bushes.” He shrugged. “She claims not to know anything about it.”
“There you are, then,” Jonelle said. “Anybody could have planted that in her garden. No way could she have poisoned Hugh. They were friends.” Even as the words left her mouth, Jonelle didn’t really believe them.
“The only prints on the box were hers.”
As tired as she was, Jonelle’s brain refused to give up trying to find some way to save her client. “When I was in her house, it looked as if heavy items were moved around in the attic. There’s no way she could’ve done that. I tried and couldn’t, and I’m at least twice her size.”
North sat back and played with his tie. Jonelle ruefully noted that it was just a plain old striped one. The tie reminded her of Burt’s whimsical ones and that she wished now she’d taken up his offer to escort her out of there.
“What about her son? How can you be so sure, he didn’t have anything to do with killing Hugh?”
Gone Missing: A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 2 Page 23