Up ahead, two other police officers were talking to a man dressed in khaki work clothes. She eased over in that direction, taking advantage of a line of trees on either side of the path. All the while the police talked to him, the Hispanic man kept shifting from one foot to the other and shoving his hands in and out of his pockets.
She sidled closer and overheard one of the officer’s say, “We may need to get in touch with you later, so leaving the area is not an option. Comprende?”
The man replied, “Yeah, I git it awready.” As the officer turned to leave, the man mumbled something. One of the cops turned and glared at him.
“What was that?”
“Nuthin’.”
Adrienne saw one cop say something to the other and slap him on the back. They both laughed and sauntered down the path. The Hispanic man spat on the ground and said something in Spanish.
Adrienne didn’t understand the words, but she could sense the anger radiating from him.
The man turned around, shocked to find Adrienne standing there, looking at him.
“Who’re you?”
“Just someone who stopped by to pay my respects to a loved one,” she said. “What’s going on?”
Cold brown eyes stared at her for several seconds. His eyes traveled slowly from her face down to her feet and back up again.
“Can’t nobody go in now.”
Adrienne swallowed back what she really wanted to say.
“Yeah, I can see that. So, can you tell me what happened?”
To her amazement, his eyes softened. He looked off in the distance and muttered something under his breath.
“Huh? What’d you say?”
“I said, frien’ a mine got killed.”
“Killed? For real? What happened?”
The man indicated a group of cops standing in the distance.
“They ain’t sayin’ how, but I’m the one found Manny’s body. He was just lyin’ there in that hole. Not movin’. His head twisted all funnylike.” He sniffed loudly. “I knew right away he was dead.”
Adrienne clutched the flowers to her breast. “Do you think it was an accident? Or—”
“Wasn’t no fuckin’ ‘accident.’ Manny was always careful. Always makin’ sure we did things right. Me and him wasn’t just workers, we was frien’s. Every Friday we’d go grab a few beers after work.”
“Oh, well… um, sorry for your loss. Listen, my name’s A-, uh, Monique, what’s yours?” Not really wanting to, but reminding herself she had promised Jonelle to find out what she could, Adrienne held out her hand.
He looked at her zebra-striped manicured nails for a second, then took her hand in his grimy palm. “Name’s Jorge.”
“Monique” flashed Jorge a 300-watt smile. She pulled away from his grasp and struggled against the urge to reach in her purse and retrieve a wet wipe.
The corners of Jorge’s mouth turned upward in what Adrienne assumed was his idea of a smile.
“So,” she began, walking a little closer to the church. “How did you find him?”
Jorge fell in step with her. He pulled out a package of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.
“Usually Manny’s here firs’, gittin’ stuff ready for the day, and me, on Mondays I start the mowin’.”
Jorge stopped. He watched two men with “Medical Examiner” stitched on their jackets carry a stretcher with a body bag, duck under the police tape, and walk through the cemetery’s gate and down to a dark blue van parked at the end of the slope.
Adrienne waited. Jorge’s expression told her he and the dead man really were close friends.
“Anyways, I looked in the shed.” He sighed deeply. “But I din’ see him.”
The back of the van slammed shut. They watched as the vehicle pulled slowly away from the cemetery. There was no need to rush.
Jorge didn’t speak again until the van moved completely out of sight.
“So, I start lookin’ for him. I had a message to give him from… somebody… and I had to find him quick like.”
Again, he paused.
“What happened next?”
“Started walkin’ around, callin’ for him. Checked all the buildins, even went into the church, but din’ see him nowhere. I knew he was here, ’cause I seen his car in the lot.” Jorge stopped and lit the cigarette he was carrying.
She noticed he didn’t offer her one.
Adrienne plucked a few petals off the flowers. She didn’t want to hurry the man, but she’d have to leave for work soon. “Then what?”
“This place is bigger’n it looks. I went back and started mowin’. I always start on the outside and work my way in. When I git to the top part, I notice some loose dirt, near the drainage ditch, which was weird.” Jorge took a huge drag from the cigarette. He blew a stream of smoke over Adrienne’s head.
“When I git closer, that’s when I notice the hole. And then I see Manny, just lyin’ in there. Not movin’ or nuthin’.” Jorge rubbed his neck. “I jus’ stood there and looked.” Jorge sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Then, I took out my phone and called the cops.”
Adrienne exhaled deeply. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. “Was he shot? Did you see any blood?”
Jorge peered closely in Adrienne’s face. “Who’d you say you were agin, lady?”
“Just somebody who stopped by to pay my respects to a relative—Dalton Street. Name ring a bell?”
Jorge shook his head.
“You sure about that?” Adrienne stared at Jorge.
“I said no, dint I?” Jorge frowned.
“Okay. So, anyway, I came here to leave a few flowers and next thing I find out is someone got murdered in the cemetery.”
She put her hand on her hip. “What kinda place is this?” she asked, forcing outrage in her voice. “I understand my, um, cousin is already dead, but seems to me that having a person murdered here won’t be too good for business. On top of all that, I gotta get in there and these damn cops won’t let me. I’m supposed to find someone named Cornelius Manross. He’s supposed to show me where Dalton is buried.”
Moisture filled Jorge’s eyes. He stared out into the distance. “Cain’t very well find him, since I just tole you he’s dead. I gotta go. I’m done talkin’ to you, lady.” Jorge stomped off.
Adrienne gasped. Manny is Cornelius Manross and he’s dead?
Her eyes followed Jorge as trudged up to the church. A few feet from the red door, something caught his attention, and he turned. Adrienne saw another man in dark work clothes, standing near a clump of trees, motioning to him. She recognized the man as the one who flirted with her at the Laughing Moon Saloon.
Jorge approached the man, shaking his head. The man put his arm around Jorge’s shoulders, and they both turned away from the church, their backs toward where Adrienne stood. Jorge shrugged the man’s arm off and shuffled away, taking the path to the cemetery. Two policemen guarding the entrance waved him on through.
The other man, Calvin, she remembered his name was, stared for a few moments then walked down to the street and got in a blue pickup truck.
After watching him drive slowly away, Adrienne glanced at her watch. It was getting late. “Hope I can remember everything Jorge told me,” she said to herself, running back to her car as fast as her slingback sandals would carry her.
As Adrienne clicked the key fob on her Saab, she spotted Jonelle’s Jeep pulling into a space at the curb behind several cars.
“Am I glad to see you,” Adrienne said, arriving at Jonelle’s driver’s side door. “You’re not gonna believe what’s happened.”
“I think I can guess. I heard on the radio that somebody’s dead here. Do you know who it is? Were you able to get in?” Jonelle looked past Adrienne and eyed the cops milling about in front of the church.
“Yes and no. I talked to the Mexican guy you told me about—Jorge—and he said he was the one that found Manross. Already dead, his body lying in a hole.”
“Manross is dead? Oh
migod. Hold on. Lemme get outta here.” Jonelle got out and stood next to Adrienne, gazing over at the now dwindling crowd.
“What else did Jorge say?”
Adrienne filled her in on the entire conversation.
“I couldn’t see anything for myself because when I tried to get close, some pushy cop kept blocking my way. Didn’t realize until the end that the Manny he kept talking about was Manross,” Adrienne said. “So what are you gonna do now?”
Jonelle stared at the cemetery.
“Jonelle? You listenin’ to me?”
“I hear you. I think I’m gonna hang out here awhile. See what I can find out. Listen, thanks for the info. It’s a good thing you got Jorge to open up a bit. I seem to be on that guy’s shit list for some reason.”
Adrienne shoved the flowers into Jonelle’s hand. “Here, take these. I’ll call you later. I’m already late for work.”
***
Adrienne arrived at the university’s faculty and employee parking lot and parked in her reserved spot. As she set the alarm on her car, she noticed Dr. Richard Hammond pulling into his own space.
You’re not gonna ignore me now, she thought.
Adrienne waved both hands over her head. “Hey, Dr. Hammond. Over here.”
The doctor turned at the sound of her voice. Instead of moving toward her, he frowned and started to walk away.
“Wait a minute, please.”
The tone of her voice stopped him.
He smiled sheepishly as she approached. “Nice to see you, Miss Roth. Help you with something?” He looked at his watch.
“This’ll only take a minute. I’m just wondering why you ignored me the other day at the Laurel racetrack. All I wanted to do was say hi.”
“You must’ve been mistaken. I don’t gamble. In fact, I’m allergic to animal hair.” Dr. Hammond turned to go.
“Hold on a sec.”
“Really, Miss Roth, I’m in a hurry.”
“Yeah, me too. Let’s walk and talk.” She motioned with her hand. “See, thing is, I saw you where the bets are placed. Aren’t any horses in there.” Though the two of them only had a casual working relationship, Adrienne didn’t like being ignored.
Hammond stopped and glared at her. “And I just told you, it wasn’t me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got several warm bodies and a few cold ones waiting for me.”
He moved away from her.
She called after him. “You know, the university spends a lot of money on these computer-generated anatomy models. Since we’re now in the twenty-first century, you might consider using the program one of these days.”
Hammond stopped walking and turned slowly around. A dark look crossed his face.
Adrienne glanced around the lot. The two of them were alone.
“Look, I’ve been real patient with you Miss Roth,” he said, marching up to her. “You can tell whomever you want there is no way in hell I’m going to use any computer to teach my class. There is no substitute—none—for a student actually touching the inside of a body. How can a computer show you what it feels like to hold a human heart in your hands?”
Adrienne stepped back at the force of his words and found her way blocked by a parked car.
Hammond’s eyes flashed. “Are you telling me you want someone who looked at a computer for most of his education to open you up on the operating table? Is that what you’re saying?” His eyes bored into hers.
She raised her hands in anticipation of warding off whatever came next.
“All I’m saying,” she said, lowering her voice, “is that with the shortage of cadavers around, it’s getting harder and harder for you doctors to teach anatomy the way you used to. And, besides, the computer models are not replacements. They are designed to supplement your teaching. In your classes, well, you’re going through an awful lot of cadavers, aren’t you?”
Hammond’s face softened. “I’m sorry I went off on you like that. It’s been a rough day. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class waiting for me.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
As he did so, Adrienne noticed the bottoms of his navy blue trousers were dirty.
CHAPTER 20
Jonelle leaned against the door of the Jeep, and absentmindedly plucked petals off the flowers Adrienne had thrust in her hands. The sun shone directly in her eyes. She had to squint at the police cars crowding the entrance to the church and at all the looky-loos milling about on the sidewalk in front of the Perpetual Rest Cemetery.
The irony that Manross ended up dead in a hole while Del was missing from one wasn’t lost on Jonelle. She blinked rapidly and shook her head to clear her vision. The images across the street now appeared more clearly. Jonelle watched a procession of techs appear, lift up the crime scene tape in front of the cemetery gate and scoot underneath, walk down the short path, and place their evidence bags in the van. While the wrought iron gate was clearly visible, only the church steeple to her right peeked through the trees.
Jonelle flicked sweat from her forehead with her index finger, tossed the flowers in the backseat, and grabbed her shoulder bag.
She crossed the street and inched along past the curious. She found a spot on the sidewalk near the path that led up to the cemetery gate. Three policemen stood guard, eyes scanning the crowd which was beginning to thin out, now that the main show was over. One cop’s eyes rested on Jonelle, silently telling her not to come any closer. She stopped. Satisfied, he nodded and moved his gaze away from her.
Jonelle needed to know how Manross died and she couldn’t do that standing around.
Itching to do something and realizing she could not get past the cops and into the cemetery from the front, Jonelle wandered over to the second path Adrienne told her about. This one curved around several bushes bordering the tree line and led up to the church.
She needed to confront Jorge and ask him more about his relationship with Manross. And Calvin. Somehow Calvin was involved in all of this. Jonelle needed to find out exactly what role he played.
She recalled the image of his hand pretending to shoot her. Jonelle wondered if Calvin’s threatening gesture at the racetrack symbolized more than she originally thought. At the time, while shocked at the boldness of his actions, his warning seemed nothing more than just an overload of male testosterone asserting itself. But the darkened shed wasn’t a bluff. It wasn’t attitude. It was real. As real as the scar on her head. She still felt the hands that pushed her in the back.
Jonelle looked up at the gray stone church. She wondered what secrets lurked behind its weather-darkened façade. Many paths led to and away from the church. The mazelike pattern invited churchgoers to wander through the trees and provided shelter from the hot sun. She’d noticed a few benches here and there, and several varieties of hosta and pink and white astilbe plants dotted the gently sloping grounds.
A flash of movement on her right caught Jonelle’s attention.
A woman, dressed in green, head bent down and with arms crossed tightly in front her her chest, rushed from the church and headed down the hill on the path where Jonelle stood. She recognized her as the office clerk.
Jonelle stepped in front of her.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
The woman stopped. She looked at Jonelle and her eyes widened. She pointed a shaking finger. “You!” she gasped.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jonelle whispered, hoping the cops weren’t paying attention. She looked around. Only two guarded the front, and a few police cars were starting to pull away.
“Look, I’m really sorry about how I behaved the other day. It’s just that I was really upset about not being able to find my husband’s body. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m really a very nice person. Just ask all my friends.” Jonelle smiled at the woman.
“So, you found your husband?” The woman’s eyes glanced up at the church.
Jonelle sighed. “No, not yet. But I’m working on it. Tell you what, let me make up for my rudeness from the other day. How about I treat you to lu
nch?”
The clerk gripped her handbag so tightly it seemed as if she was trying to squeeze the navy off the blue. “Well, I dunno. The pastor said I could go home.”
“Would you like a lift somewhere?” Jonelle knew the parking lots were to the side and in back of the church, and the clerk was leaving from the front.
The clerk shook her head. “I don’t live far. I always walk to work. But since I can’t get to the shortcut I usually take through the back woods, because of what happened… to… uh…” Tears welled in her eyes.
“Please,” Jonelle said, “I can see you’re upset. Let me buy you lunch. Sometimes it helps to talk things out. I should know—I work in security at the university, and I’ve developed a rapport with some of the kids just by talking to them. I let them know they can approach me with any of their problems. How about it? My treat.”
Unsure if it was the word security or the mention of the university that did the trick, but Jonelle watched the clerk’s shoulders relax and the vise grip on the purse loosen up.
Jonelle reached into her shoulder bag and handed the clerk a tissue. “Your name’s Marcia. Am I right?”
Marcia took the tissue. “Yeah, that’s right. Kinda surprised you remembered.”
“I’m really good with names.”
“I guess I could maybe eat a little something,” Marcia said, blowing her nose. “There’s a real good deli near here.”
“Super. Are you talking about the one in the strip mall a few miles up the road? I stop there sometimes. They do a wicked ham and swiss on rye.” Jonelle motioned across the street. “My car’s right over there.”
Jonelle started walking away but stopped when she noticed Marcia wasn’t following her. She turned around and waited for the clerk to make her decision. After a few moments, Marcia walked up to Jonelle, and they made their way in silence over to her vehicle.
Marcia’s hand hovered over the Jeep’s door handle. She looked back at the church. Her eyes filled up again, and she let out a deep sigh.
Afraid the clerk was going to cry once more, Jonelle said, “Hop in, Marcia. After lunch I’ll be more than happy to take you home.”
Burial Plot (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 1) Page 13
