Inkslingers Ball (A Forensic Handwriting Mystery)

by Sheila Lowe

  “Great. That just about makes my day.” Jovanic clicked off and after getting a refill on his coffee, checked his iPhone for directions to the Genessee Avenue address.

  ***

  Tuesday noon, traffic felt like moving through sludge. By the time Jovanic reached West Hollywood it was close to 1:00 and he was glad for the apple fritter he had eaten.

  The area in which Jack Solis lived was, for L.A., considered lower-end real estate, which meant houses went for around three-quarters of a million bucks. Small homes built around the turn of the last century, mixed with newer apartment buildings. It was one of the latter that housed Solis. According to the parking signs, Tuesday was trash day and there was no parking on that side of the street during the morning.

  Lucky for Jovanic, the pickup had already been made. He maneuvered around the empty wheelie bins lining the street and parked, then took the flight of stairs that ran outside the building to the second floor. He had not called ahead, preferring to catch Solis off guard.

  The upstairs landing was surrounded by a tall wooden lattice overgrown with crimson Bougainvilla, leaving barely enough room for Jovanic’s six-two frame on the porch. A heavy duty security screen which secured the front door, was locked. Before he could ring the doorbell, what sounded like a small dog began barking inside the apartment. He pressed the bell and stepped down onto the top stair, leaving some room.

  Inside, a woman yelled in an East Coast accent, “Rocco! Rocco, knock it off!” The dog took no notice and as the front door opened continued to yap loudly. The iron mesh screen made it impossible to see inside, but the barking came from up high and the dog, in its owner’s arms, tried to lunge for the screen.

  Jovanic held up his badge wallet. “Detective Joel Jovanic with LAPD. I’m looking for Jack Solis.”

  “That’s me.”

  “You’re Jack?”

  “Short for Jacqueline. This about Trav?”

  “Yes, I’d like to talk with you for a few minutes. Could I come in?”

  There was the metallic click of the lock and she pushed open the door. The dog, a teacup Yorkie, squirmed in her grasp, struggling to free itself. Jacqueline Solis raised her voice over the continuing racket. “Rocco! Stop! Come in, Detective. Let me put him in the bathroom.”

  “Feisty little guy,” Jovanic remarked as Solis returned, followed by the sound of miniature claws scratching at the bathroom door.

  “He weighs all of four pounds, but he’s got the heart of a Pit Bull.” She gestured Jovanic toward a table next to the kitchenette. “Come, sit. Let’s go over here.”

  Solis was almost as tall as Jovanic, with a muscular build and a diamond stud piercing her nose. A fringe of black bangs framed ironed-straight fuchsia colored shoulder-length hair. A black spaghetti strap T-shirt displayed a tattooed water lily on her right shoulder and barbed wire ink around her left bicep. The tail of a blue dolphin peeped out from the bottom of her cutoffs. West Hollywood. With those broad shoulders, she might be a man in drag.

  “I understand you had an appointment yesterday with Travis Navarette,” Jovanic began.

  Solis’s liner-rimmed eyes filled with tears, which she dabbed with a fingertip. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe he’s dead. Is this really happening?”

  “How well did you know Travis, Ms Solis?”

  She let out a long breath. “Not all that well, but still. He did some work on me.” She pointed at the dolphin on her thigh. “He was covering up someone else’s shitty work.” Her voice cracked. “How could anyone do that to him?”

  “Any idea who might have had a beef with him?”

  “Hell no. Travis hadda be the sweetest dude on the planet. He would never hurt anyone. Why would someone kill him?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out. How did you meet him? Were you referred by someone?”

  “Yeah, a guy I know knew him from when he was working up the street at Dragon House ‘til he went out on his own.”

  “Travis worked at Dragon House?”

  “Yeah, that’s where he started out.”

  “What’s this guy’s name, your friend who works over there?”

  “Big Carl. I don’t know his last name.”

  “Do you know any of Travis’s other clients or friends?”

  “Not really. A few people came by while he was working on me, but I don’t know any of them.”

  “Anyone you saw more than once?”

  “Sometimes there was this girl, but she wasn’t a customer. She just hung out. Like a tat groupie, you know?”

  “Was she Travis’s girlfriend?”

  Jacqueline Solis pulled a skeptical face. “A wannabe more like it. Little ho kept gettin’ in his face, trying to turn him on, even while he was working. She was über obvious about it.”

  “I guess that’d be pretty flattering for a young guy like Travis.”

  She thought about it, then shook her head again. “Trav treated her nice, like he did everyone. He wasn’t interested in fucking that little piece of jailbait ass.” Solis snapped to attention. “Hey, you don’t think she did it, do you?”

  “Right now, we’re just gathering information. Do you have any reason to think she might have some involvement in Travis’s death, Ms. Solis?”

  “It’s just, she seemed kind of desperate to get his attention. Maybe she set the fire and didn’t know he was inside. Maybe she didn’t mean to kill him.” Her face hardened. “This is so fucked up.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Jovanic agreed. “Do you happen to know this girl’s name?”

  “Uh, Angie, Angela; something like that.”

  “Any idea how old? High school? Out of school?”

  “Teenybopper,” Jack Solis said with certainty. “She talks like a kid. I’d swear she’s no older than sixteen. She’s got a few miles on her, though. She could maybe pass for eighteen.”

  “Can you think of anything else that might help us locate her?”

  “You should check with Big Carl at Dragon House.”

  “I’ll do that.” Jovanic rose and held out his hand. “I’m very sorry for the loss of your friend.”

  Chapter Eight

  Claudia was wrapping up her report on the insurance case when she heard the back door slam, signaling Annabelle’s arrival home from school. “I’m in the office,” she called out.

  “Okay, be right there,” Annabelle called back, her footfalls pounding on the stairs. For someone who was four-ten and weighed about eighty-five pounds, she had a way of sounding like a herd of wild elephants. She had sounded reasonably cheerful, which was a relief. At least the dark moods that used to sometimes last for days at a time now seemed to clear up much faster.

  Ten minutes later, having switched her school clothes for shorts and T-shirt, Annabelle sidled into the office. “Is it okay if I go to Tyler’s and get my phone back from my friend?”

  “No, it isn’t okay. You’re grounded, remember?”

  Annabelle wrinkled her nose. “It was worth a try.”

  “Well, it didn’t work. There are consequences to sneaking out and getting inked.”

  “But I need to get my phone.”

  “Of course; what’s life without a phone?”

  “You said Angel was going to bring it. You wouldn’t want her to show up for nothing, would you?”

  “Oh, you’re going to lay a guilt trip on me, are you?” Claudia grinned. “Come on, let’s go. I want to meet this Angel person.”

  A look of alarm crossed Annabelle’s face. “You don’t have to. I can walk down there.”

  “I know you can. And I still want to meet her.”

  “Seriously, you don’t need to. Look, I’ll come right back, I promise. I just want my phone.”

  “Is there some reason why I shouldn’t
meet her?”

  Annabelle hesitated. “Well—noooooo, but, I just don’t want you asking her a bunch of dumb questions and embarrassing me.”

  “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I will sit silent and keep my lip zipped up tight.”

  “Like that ever happened.”

  Claudia hiked a brow. “Are you saying I have a big mouth?”

  “Well…not exactly, but…”

  “Face it; if you want your phone, you’re going to have to stand my company. But here’s the good news—I’ll pay for the drinks.”

  ***

  There were two customers at Tyler’s when Claudia and Annabelle walked in, both male. Annabelle grabbed a table near the front window so she could watch for her friend. Claudia went to the counter and ordered a green tea Frappuccino for herself and a chocolate smoothie for Annabelle.

  A few minutes later she set their drinks on the table. “I tried calling your phone again this morning to make sure she was still coming, but she didn’t pick up.”

  “She said right after school,” Annabelle retorted. “At least, that’s what you told me.”

  “I know.” Claudia broke off, still wishing she could have persuaded Angel to confide in her when she had phoned the night before. She tore the wrapper off her straw and twisted the paper into a little ball between her fingers. “So, tell me about her. Were you close friends at the Sorensen Academy? How come I’ve never heard about her?”

  “Noooo, not close. She’s a year older than me, but we both hung out with the same people.” Annabelle blushed. “Actually, we got arrested together the time I got sent to Juvie. Our parents knew each other and they decided to put both of us in Sorensen.”

  “Ah.” That was before Claudia had met Annabelle. Before the girl had attempted suicide.

  “Angel got out of Sorensen before I did,” Annabelle continued. “That was the last time I saw her ‘til the other day. I mean, we’re not exactly Instagram friends or anything.”

  “What about her parents? Does she live with both of them?”

  “Uh uh. Her mom is always going to Europe. I think she’s an actress or something. Her father’s kind of like mine—not my real father. Nick. Her father got married to someone else and then her stepmom had a kid, so he has his new family and they live in New York. He never calls Angel. So, anyway, since both her parents don’t care about her, she went to court and filed some kind of papers to divorce them.”

  “She’s an emancipated minor?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. The court said she could dump her parents if she could support herself. So now she lives with her boyfriend and his brother’s family. She takes care of their kids.”

  “I wonder if it was her boyfriend she was afraid of.”

  “How would I know?” Annabelle shot an accusatory glance across the table before scooping whipped cream off the top of her smoothie and licking it from the spoon. “You didn’t let her talk to me.”

  Claudia glanced at her watch. They had been at Tyler’s for fifteen minutes and so far there was no sign of Angel or Annabelle’s cell phone. There had been no opportunity to say anything to Jovanic about the late night call from Angel, or to ask his opinion on what to do about Annabelle’s tattoo. After dozing in the living room the night before, he had stumbled up to bed and fallen straight into a deep sleep. When Claudia awoke, he was long gone. She had learned to expect the long hours when there was a homicide investigation on his rotation.

  They had shared a quick phone call mid-morning while he was driving to West Hollywood to interview a witness. This afternoon she knew she would not hear from him, as he would be continuing his part of the investigation into the background of the firebombing victim.

  Claudia pulled her attention back to Annabelle, who was griping about having to prepare for an upcoming exam at school. “Why do I have to learn science, anyway? I’m not going to be a scientist.”

  “There’s plenty of stuff you learn in school that you think you’ll never use, but you might be surprised. You like baking, right? A cake recipe is a scientific formula,” Claudia said. She could not explain the itchy feeling she had about Angel, but she wasn’t going to project it onto Annabelle.

  “Dissecting frogs isn’t like baking cakes.”

  “Suck it up, kiddo. On some things we don’t get a choice and that includes school. It’s something you have to get through.” Claudia paused, then changed the subject. “Where does Angel live?”

  “I don’t—”

  Before she could finish her answer, Claudia’s cell phone rang in her purse. Poker Face. Annabelle’s ringtone. Angel.

  “Let me talk to her please!” Annabelle begged as Claudia dug the phone out of her purse.

  Claudia held up a restraining hand and slid her fingertip across the screen to engage the call. “Hello, Angel?”

  There was a pause, then the same voice she had heard last night came on the line, normal now, not whispering. “Yeah, it’s me. Is Annabelle there? Can I talk to her now?”

  “Are you okay? We’re at Tyler’s. I thought you were coming to return her phone.”

  “I know. I got stuck with the kids. I can’t leave right now.”

  “Why don’t you give me the address. I’ll drive Annabelle over and she can get the phone from you.”

  “No! It would just create a bunch of hassle for me. Could I please just talk to her? Please?”

  On the other side of the table, Annabelle was bouncing in her seat, dying to get hold of the phone. Realizing she was not going to get anywhere with Angel, and relieved that the girl was okay, Claudia handed it over. Annabelle jammed the instrument to her ear and told the caller to wait, then jumped up and slipped through the front door.

  Claudia watched her through the window, talking animatedly to her friend. Annabelle’s face underwent a whole series of expressions, none of them happy. Then, as if realizing she was being observed, she turned her body away so Claudia could no longer read her face, but her body language spoke volumes. She was not enjoying the conversation.

  The call ended less than five minutes later. Returning to their table, Annabelle plunked into her chair and returned Claudia’s phone to her with a mumbled thanks. “That was quick,” Claudia remarked. Did she tell you what happened last night?”

  “She couldn’t talk about it right then. She’s gonna get a ride over to your house and drop my phone off later.”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah, tonight. After Ariceli gets back and Angel can leave the kids.”

  “And Ariceli is—”

  “Mouser’s brother’s chick.”

  “I take it Mouser is Angel’s boyfriend?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Who’s giving her a ride?”

  Annabelle gave the shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Sorry, but I am worried about it. I don’t like the feeling I’m getting about this whole situation. I don’t like it that this girl left you with some strange guy in a grungy van. I don’t like you hanging out with someone who’s scared enough to call after midnight, looking for help. You’ve gone through enough of your own stuff.”

  “Omigod, I’m just supposed to ditch my friend?” Annabelle protested hotly.

  “I thought she wasn’t such a close friend.”

  “What difference does it make? Anyway, she’s still got my phone.”

  “Yes, there is that.” Claudia groaned inwardly. Most of the time, she enjoyed Annabelle, but right now she was anticipating the girl’s father returning home and relieving her of the responsibility. She put on her firm voice. “When Angel shows up tonight, you are to bring her in and introduce her to me, got it?”

  Annabelle’s mumbled response could have been anything.

  “I’m serious,” Claudia said. “Don’t try to wiggle out of
it.”

  “Are you going to ask her about Crash?”

  “Guess.”

  “I knew you were going to embarrass me. And you still don’t get why I don’t want you to meet her?”

  Annabelle’s voice had risen an octave. A customer who had just entered turned a disapproving glare on them.

  “Keep it down,” Claudia cautioned. “We don’t need a scene.”

  “I told you I won’t do it again. Why can’t you just let it go? Crash was nice to me. He didn’t try to hook up with me or anything like that.”

  “That’s supposed to make it okay, because he didn’t rape you? It’s not just the illegal tattoo, Annabelle. He also gave you alcohol. That’s not acceptable. And this is non-negotiable. I want to meet Angel.” Her silent thought continued: And if “Crash” is the one who gives Angel a ride over, he’d better be prepared to face me.

  She got the one-shoulder dismissal. “Whatever.”

  Claudia was not surprised when Angel was a no-show that evening and she didn’t phone again. Annabelle, who ate dinner in virtual silence, went upstairs as soon as she had helped to clean up the kitchen, and stayed in her room all evening, claiming to be studying for her science test. She didn’t seem too upset at being stood up by her friend, causing Claudia to wonder whether the girls had plotted something during their short conversation that she ought to know about.

  Jovanic dragged in around nine and they had a repeat of the previous evening. He did not want to talk about his case.

  He and Claudia watched a mindless sitcom together while he ate the dinner she had put aside for him. He looked so exhausted that once again, she did not have the heart to burden him with her quandary about Annabelle. When they went to bed together at eleven, he was too tired for sex. Claudia, whose mind was still on the unreliable Angel and her situation, cuddled against his back and fell asleep early.