“Can’t let you get involved, Adrienne,” she said, shaking her head. “You could get hurt.”
Adrienne leaned against Jonelle’s car. She tapped one pink-tipped fingernail on her right cheek and studied her friend. She pointed over in the direction of the small stand of trees.
“It didn’t bother you to go in there?”
Jonelle hesitated. “I forced myself to. Didn’t see anything, though,” she quickly added.
“Well, good for you. That’s progress,” Adrienne said. “Maybe you’d make a good crime solver after all. Still, don’t most of those people have help?”
“This is my problem, and—”
“Remember that time in the tenth grade when Lakesha Johns wanted to jump you ‘cause she thought you thought you were better than everybody else?”
Jonelle sighed. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Remember, you were all ready to get it on, and then she shows up with two other girls?”
Jonelle nodded. Boy did she ever. Kicking one ugly girl’s butt was one thing. But three of them? Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t even say anything clever when the girls began to taunt her.
“And what happened next?” Adrienne asked.
“Okay, I see where you’re going with this.”
“You got it. I followed you, saw what was happenin’, and you and me kicked some serious behinds.”
“And got seriously suspended for two weeks. And, if I remember correctly, the skinny girl turned tail and ran, so it ended up being just two against two.”
Adrienne placed both hands on lean hips. “Point is we kicked ass. You and me together. So it’s time you stopped playing Wonder Woman or whatever. If you insist on pursuing this, let me do something to help.”
“I’ll think about it. For now, though, help me get this thing in the trunk.”
Holding her end of the tire with the palms of her hands so as not to break her nails, Adrienne helped Jonelle load the damaged tire into the back.
“Shoot, got dirt on me.” Adrienne teetered over to her car in her pink sling-backs and got a tissue. After a few attempts to clean the smudge off her hot pink skirt, she gave up. Jonelle tossed her a wet wipe.
“Here, see if this’ll help.”
“Naw, it’s just getting worse. So, where do we go from here? We gonna lean on this Manross guy?”
Jonelle groaned. Adrienne watched way too much television.
“Nope, not yet anyway. I think I need to start at the place where Del was run over.”
“Hmm. You think maybe Del’s death wasn’t an accident after all? I was just wonderin’ out loud the other day when I said that, but I didn’t really mean it. If it’s true, boy, that’d creep me out.”
“I’m not saying that. Just covering all the bases. Look, I was serious about you not getting involved. If you don’t wanna come, I’ll—”
“No way. I’m seein’ this thing through.” Adrienne smiled. “You think maybe I could get a gun, too?”
Jonelle stared open-mouthed. “You? With a gun? Heaven help us!”
Looking slightly offended, Adrienne said, “You could teach me to shoot.”
Jonelle didn’t want to start an argument. “Let me think about it. Right now, though, let’s get on down to the Laughing Moon Saloon and see if we can get a line on Manross.”
“Laughing Moon Saloon,” Adrienne murmured and giggled.
Jonelle frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“Sorry. This isn’t the time to be silly. I’ll behave. I promise.”
A rumble of thunder filled the air, followed by the crack of lightening too close for comfort. Both women jumped.
“Shit!” Adrienne yelled.
Big, fat raindrops plopped on the two women’s heads. Adrienne ran to her convertible while Jonelle clambered into her SUV.
Shouting instructions to follow closely so as not to get lost, Jonelle started the engine and waited for Adrienne to pull in behind her.
Jonelle paused to let a few cars pass but failed to notice a dark-colored vehicle idling at the curb across the street.
As the Jeep and Saab turned onto the main road, the dark vehicle followed the two women as they headed east.
CHAPTER 9
The rain hammered the roof of Jonelle’s Jeep. She checked the rearview mirror and noticed Adrienne, still following closely, had turned on the Saab’s headlights. If Jonelle remembered correctly, the bar’s location lay somewhere past the strip mall with the Big Frank’s convenience store but before she got to the small community dinner theater. She spotted it on the right. She slowed, engaged the blinker, and turned into the lot.
The blue neon sign advertised, “Laughing M on Salo n.” She smiled. Illuminated by the streetlight and perched above the sign was a large, round white moon with a huge red mouth, wide open, as though it had just heard a great joke. The laughing moon reminded her of the opening credits of the old Honeymooners show on cable.
The low square brown building sat by itself, about twenty feet from the street, surrounded on three sides by a parking lot that looked much too large to accommodate the small structure. Yet, as Jonelle pulled in, it appeared as though all of the spots were taken. She followed the driveway around the back. As luck would have it, a car pulled out in front of her so she grabbed the spot near a large dumpster. She watched Adrienne slow down, pass, and continue on.
Behind Adrienne, a dark car with parking lights crept forward but, instead of passing by, backed up and turned down one of the rows behind Jonelle.
Jonelle grabbed her purse, ran to the building, and stood under the sloping roof, next to a few patrons who hovered under the shelter, smoking cigarettes. Breathing through her mouth to avoid inhaling too much smoke, she saw Adrienne hopping along as fast as her heels allowed, arms crossed and held over her head to protect her hair.
“You ready to go in?” Jonelle asked, trying hard not to smile at her damp friend.
“No, I wanna stay out here and soak in the ambiance of the place. And wipe that stupid grin off your face.” She motioned to Jonelle to go inside.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Jonelle noticed the saloon was bigger than it looked from the outside. A long polished bar occupied one wall, with a brass foot rail attached to and running along its length. All of the wooden bar stools were filled, mostly with men. Ceiling fans, one above the bar and the other in the center of the room, circulated the warm air. The place smelled of stale beer, cheap wine, and bodies in need of a fresh washing to cleanse away the problems of the day. The saloon was crowded but not packed. Jonelle forced herself to breathe slowly and made note of the only window, positioned low and to her left.
Adrienne poked her in the ribs. “You gonna be okay in here?”
“Yeah, it’s not bad. But let’s hang around near the front for awhile, in case a table near this window becomes vacant.”
Jonelle watched the crowd. A few patrons had turned to look as the two women entered but then just as quickly went back to their drinks. The people here appeared older than the trendy “happy hour” places she frequented before getting married. The diverse group looked like it just wanted a quick drink and a chance to see old friends.
Some of the men wore suits, but most were dressed for working outdoors. The few women in the place sat mainly at the tables, with the fanciest dressed among them wearing skirts and blouses. The saloon was one of those places where, once the after work crowd went home, the barflies settled in, and someone would mute the television above the bar. John Legend, B.B. King, and Ray Charles with some Willie Nelson and Blake Shelton thrown in for good measure would fill the air from the sixty’s style jukebox.
Adrienne whispered to Jonelle. “Del hung out here?”
Jonelle shrugged. “This is where he was killed. Well, not in here. In the parking lot. Besides, I’m not convinced he hung out here. I’m thinking maybe he just stopped by for a quick drink.” Jonelle looked around and lowered her voice. “Though there are nicer places c
loser to home.”
The place didn’t jibe with the Del she knew. With his custom-made suits and silk ties, he would definitely look out of place. An unsettled feeling gripped her. When the police first told her about the accident, grief had quickly turned to shock. Jonelle had never heard of the Laughing Moon Saloon; he’d never mentioned it.
After his death, she had looked the place up and drove by one afternoon. She had stood in the parking lot and stared at the spot where he died and tried to feel his presence, regretting she never had the chance to say goodbye.
“Hey.” Adrienne pointed. “Those guys over there are leaving.”
The two rushed over and grabbed one of the two green vinyl-covered booths.
She hurried over and snatched the window seat and noticed a lighter shade of green plastic tape covering tears in the bottoms of both seat cushions. As she sat down with a loud scrunch, Jonelle moved the many beer glasses covering most of the surface of the brown wooden table. Paper placemats of a drawing of a moon with that cartoonish laugh sat on top.
A harried-looking woman holding a tray and wearing black shorts, a white sleeveless blouse, and green apron approached. She grabbed the few bills the men left and shoved them in the apron’s pocket. The waitress cleared the table, swiped it with a rag, and whipped out two clean placemats. She then placed a bowl of pretzels and one of peanuts, still in their shells, on the table. Taking a pencil out of blond over-sprayed hair, she asked, “What can I get you ladies?”
“You got any McEwans?” Jonelle asked.
“Don’t get much call for it, but, yeah, we got it. And what would you like?”
“I’d like a vodka gimlet.”
Jonelle kicked Adrienne under the table.
“Hey!” she said, rubbing her shin and glaring at Jonelle. “But I’ll settle for some wine. Got any Cabernet?”
“Haven’t checked the wine cellar lately, but we got somethin’ red. Would the house wine suit madame?”
“Yeah, fine. No need to get pissy.”
The woman turned on her heel and made her way back to the bar.
“Nice going. We haven’t been here fifteen minutes, and already you’re ticking people off. I need to keep everybody happy if I hope to find out anything.”
Adrienne snorted. “All I did was ask for a drink.”
The waitress came and placed the drinks on the table, gave Adrienne a withering look, and left to take another customer’s order.
After swallowing a few large gulps of beer, Jonelle looked around. “I need to talk to the bartender. If anybody knows anything, he will. You stay here and scope out the customers. See if anybody looks familiar.”
Adrienne looked aghast. “See anybody I know in this crowd?”
Jonelle removed a picture from her purse. “Just do it. Please. I’ll be right back.” She took another large swallow of beer and, glass in hand, weaved her way through the crowd to the bar.
She lifted her finger and the bartender wandered over.
“Another one?” he asked, nodding at the mug in her hand.
“Got a minute? I’d like to ask you a couple questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Don’t have time to chat unless you’re buyin’ somethin’ lady.”
Jonelle sighed. “Okay. I’m drinking McEwans.”
“Be right back.”
He returned with a bottle, topped off her glass with the dark ale, and put the bottle on the bar. “I’m kinda busy here. What is it you want to know?”
“Did you know this man?” Jonelle showed him the picture. “He was tall and thin, well-dressed, and his name was Delbert Sweet.”
The bartender barely glanced at the picture. “Can’t say as I do. Look around, lady. We got our share of tall, thin black guys in here.”
“Do they all get run over in your parking lot?”
The man flinched and held out his hand.
“Lemme see that picture again. Oh, him. You a friend of his?”
“I’m his wife. So you did know him.” It was more a statement than a question.
“Only to see him. Never knew his name.” He placed the picture on the bar. “And never knew he was married. Hate to say it, lady, but he didn’t seem the marrying type. If you know what I mean.”
Jonelle ignored the insinuation. “Can you tell me anything about that night? Was he, uh, with anyone in particular?”
The bartender shrugged. “Didn’t notice. The only reason he stuck out in my mind at all was that he was a pretty sharp dresser, especially compared to most of the other guys here. I know the ladies really like, uh, liked him. Smooth talker is what I heard.”
“Do you remember if he walked out with anyone the night of the accident?”
“Like I told the cops then, and I’m tellin’ you now, I don’t know nuthin’ about that. ’Scuse me, got a customer.”
The bartender wandered to the other end of the bar. When he returned, she tried another tack.
“Does a short black guy with pale eyes and a scar running down the right side of his face ring a bell? His name’s Cornelius Manross.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a guy who hangs out here a lot. Usually buys his pals a round whenever he scores at the track. He’ll probably be in here later. What’re you after, lady?”
She ignored the question. “Were Manross and Del friends?”
“How am I supposed to know that? Look, I’m busy here. You got any more questions, you’re gonna have to buy a lot more than just one lousy beer.”
Jonelle snatched Del’s picture from the bar, turned to walk away, and nearly collided into a heavyset dark-skinned man in navy blue work clothes. The name stitched in white above his pocket said Calvin. He smiled at her, exposing a large front tooth ringed in gold.
“Hey there, good-lookin’. I hear you’re searchin’ for someone special.” He spread his arms wide. “Well, here I am.”
She winced from the man’s rank breath. “And here I go, if you’d just get out of my way.”
“Hey, Jonnie, what gives?” Adrienne came up and stood next to Jonelle.
“Well, now,” the man said, looking Adrienne up and down. His eyes settled on her chest. “This must be my lucky night.”
“And just how lucky do you think you’re going to get?”
Jonelle glared at her friend. “Come on, Adrienne, let’s—”
“Hold on, Jonnie. Let’s not be too hasty.”
Calvin looked from one to the other. “Adrienne, huh? Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Buy you a drink?”
Jonelle groaned.
Adrienne placed her hand on her hip. “Now, you look like a smart man. Ever hear the term, quid pro quo?”
The man’s smile faltered.
“How about, you wash my back and I’ll wash yours?”
Calvin’s grin covered the entire lower half of his face.
“Thought so. See, my friend here,”—she pointed at Jonelle—“needs some information. You tell her what she wants to know, and maybe you and I can, well…” She lifted one eyebrow.
Jonelle imagined gears shifting in the man’s head.
He forced his eyes away from Adrienne’s chest. “You a cop?” he asked Jonelle.
“No. I’m just trying to find out what happened to my husband. He had an accident in the lot out back and was killed. I need to know if anyone remembers anything about that night—who he was with, if he argued with anyone.”
“Yeah, heard about that night. Wasn’t here then, but I’m here most nights about this time. I remember him bein’ a fancy dresser. Kinda snooty. Came here a few times a week.” He turned back to Adrienne. “He was real popular with the ladies.”
“Any lady in particular?” Adrienne asked, not looking at Jonelle.
Calvin frowned. “Don’t know. Alls I know is he came by hisself and left by hisself. Rest of us was always glad to see ‘im go, if you catch my drift.”
Jonelle changed the subject. She didn’t want to hear about Del’s exploits, at least not yet. “Do you know Corneli
us Manross?”
The man’s eyes darted left and right. He stopped smiling.
“How do you know Manross?”
Adrienne touched the man’s arm, and he relaxed slightly. “Are you saying my friend’s husband knew this guy Manross?”
“No, I ain’t sayin’ that. I never saw ‘em talkin’. At least not that I remember.”
Even in the subdued light, Jonelle watched Calvin’s eyes flick back and forth like windshield wipers in a rainstorm. Worry lines creased his forehead
She wanted to keep him talking, so quickly asked, “Are you a good friend of Manross?”
“Him and me’s track buddies. When we see each other here, we drink, talk about the ponies, that’s all.” Something caught his attention behind Adrienne, and he clamped his mouth shut.
“Look, you two are makin’ me nervous with all your damn questions. I gotta go.”
“Just one more thing,” Jonelle said. “Do you own a blue pickup?”
The man stiffened, turned away, and retreated to the opposite side of the room. He glanced back once, the nervous look still on his face.
“What was that all about?” Adrienne asked. “That guy Manross in here?”
Jonelle scanned the room. She didn’t see Manross, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just a few people leaving.
“Look, I’m getting hungry. Let’s go back to my place. I’ve got something we can snack on.” Jonelle set money and her empty mug on the bar. “I think I need to decide when to make a trip to the racetrack.”
“What for? To see that weird guy and this Manross fella together? Why bother? If we wait here awhile, he might show up.”
Jonelle shook her head. “That’s not the only reason. Didn’t you notice something about our friend Calvin?”
“Like what? Something more potent than his stinky breath?”
“Like what was on his shirt. Right below his name was the name of the place where he worked.”
“Which was?”
“Which was St. Augustine’s cemetery. Two cemetery employees, one who works where Del was buried and from where Del is now missing. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
Burial Plot (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 1) Page 5
