“Guess you heard that, so if you wanna meet, it’s gotta be in the next hour.”
She agreed and promised to leave right away.
Caution came through the line. “Why’re you interested? Are you a relative or something?”
“No. I’ve heard some things about the case, and it piqued my curiosity.”
“Curiosity, huh?” He snorted. “Can’t pay much, so if money means a lot to you, forget it.”
“I don’t know much at this point, and maybe when I learn more, it’ll be a non-starter. But, well . . .”
“Well, indeed. See you in a few, Miss, uh, Sweet.” He was gone before she could say good-bye.
Figuring she didn’t need to get Marvin upset over something that might not happen anyway, she grabbed her bag and stuffed one of the Notices to Appear next to her .38 and headed out. Marvin’s voice resounded through his open door. She tip-toed past.
“I’m off,” she said.
Rainey squinted at her computer screen. That look told Jonelle that either Ben sent Rainey something she couldn’t decipher, or Omar issued a report she had to rewrite before placing it in the closed file.
“Rainey?”
“Yes. You’re off.” She waved her hand. “If we need you I’ll call.”
• • •
She plugged the address of the Glen Burnie 7th District Court office in her GPS. Instead of taking the building’s elevator, she climbed up to the second floor, her sandals clanging loudly on the metal stairs. A quick walk down a long hallway put her in front of the outer reception area of the public defender’s office. “I called earlier and Mr. Langford said I could stop by.”
The young clerk peered at her from the top of his glasses. “And you are?”
“Sorry. Jonelle Sweet.”
He picked up the phone and announced her arrival. “Go on back. Third door on the right.”
“Thanks.”
She knocked softly and, after a loud “come in” opened the door . . . and stopped. The tiny, windowless office could barely contain the stocky man behind the L-shaped desk.
“Come in, come in.” He pointed to the fabric-covered chair across from him, pockmarked with mysterious stains.
Her chest tightened. Her pulse raced as she took in the four-shelf wooden bookcase filled with law books and the black metal file cabinet crammed against the wall on his left. And the overflowing files taking up every available flat space.
“Give me a sec.” Jonelle breathed in and out, slowly, deeply.
Langford cocked his head. “Problem?”
“Claustrophobic.”
“Ah. Well, go ahead and leave the door open, but unless you wanna talk in the hall, this’ll have to do.”
“Is it okay with you if I move the chair closer to the open door?”
The corners of Langford’s mouth curled up. “Whatever works. We don’t have much time at any rate. What is it you want exactly?”
“I work for Shorter Investigative Services and we never, ever, seek out cases.” Jonelle pulled out a business card and passed it over to the lawyer. She sat on the edge of the chair.
“I happened to be in the area when I heard several people talking about an abducted child. On the one hand, people said that Tamora—that was the name I heard—was a good mother. Yet, she was arrested—”
“She’s out now. Got her released in her sister’s custody.”
“Great. See, I know the system is overburdened and, well . . .” She indicated the papers strewn around the small space. “I also know how busy you guys are, so I decided maybe I could help.”
Langford flicked her business card back and forth between his fingers. “Think I’ve heard of you guys. Minority owned. Good reputation if I remember correctly.” He leaned back in his chair. “Fact is Tamora hasn’t been too open with us. Says she didn’t do it but not much else. Plus, there’s places where she’s flat out lied about little stuff that she refuses to explain.”
Jonelle jumped on the comment. “I’d heard that the police have proof of a lie. Can you share that with me?”
Langford folded his hands behind his head. Jonelle averted her eyes from the sweat stains under his armpits.
“Everything hinges on time,” he said. “She admits she left the child alone to run across the street but insists she was only gone for five minutes. Surveillance tape shows her in the store a lot longer than that.”
“Is she sticking to that time? Five minutes?”
“Yep. But getting information out of her is like pulling a tiny splinter from your hand. You gotta keep digging deeper and deeper. Truth is I thought at first she had a white people problem.”
She frowned at the statement.
He held up his hands as if to ward off an imminent onslaught of verbal abuse. “Don’t get upset. Some of these clients do. Will only talk to black lawyers ’cause they think white folks like me won’t give them a fair shake. Offered to ask the judge to grant her another attorney, but she declined.” He opened the top manila folder and flipped through a few sheets. “I’m thinking she might be honest with you. Something tells me you know how to get people to open up. Here’s what I’ll do. Let me run this by the boss, see what he thinks. If he says okay, and we agree to the terms, it’s a go.”
Now that she almost had what she wanted, she didn’t know what to do next. The whole meeting went far easier than anticipated. Here she’d gone and sold herself to this guy and now had to face the fact that Marvin might not agree. What then? She’d put the name of the agency out there . . . an agency with his name and his reputation all wrapped up together.
“Thought you’d be a little happier than this. You having second thoughts?”
“No, no. Not at all. Thinking of next steps. Supposing your boss agrees and we go forward, I’m assuming I’ll have access to all the documentation you have on the case so far. That right?”
“Of course. We’re all working for the same team.”
“Tell me something,” Jonelle said. “Do you think she had anything to do with it?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. Somethings off about her. Can’t put my finger on what is it though.”
“So. When can I expect to hear from you?”
Langford stood. Jonelle followed suit.
“We’ve got a staff meeting tomorrow, so it’ll either be later that day or, more likely, on Monday.”
“Monday works,” she said quickly. That should give her time to prepare how to present what she’d say to Marvin. “Fact is I also have a staff meeting tomorrow.”
“Good.” He held out his hand and they shook. “You know. When you first called I was a little leery. You’re not the first PI to come begging to help out on cases. No offense.”
“Since I’m not ‘begging,’ none taken. Like I said, the agency doesn’t go out looking for work. What little I heard about Tamora and her child affected me in a way I can’t explain. Plus you know as well as I do that every day that goes by doesn’t bode well for the child.”
She turned to go. “Oh. One more thing. Who called the cops? Tamora?”
“Nope. The child’s father stopped by. He said the door was open. Searched the apartment. Nothing. Thought maybe the kid was across the hall but she wasn’t so he called the police. Good thing he did.”
“Don’t you believe Tamora would’ve called?”
Langford shot her a peculiar look. “You’d hope so, right?”
CHAPTER 3
Why the hell wasn’t the door locked? The door was supposed to be locked. At the very least she should have made it harder. I could’ve put marks on the door like in them crime shows. Give the cops something to think about.
Almost changed my mind. Once inside, I could’ve left the little one where she was—asleep on the one bed, curled up, warm and trusting—and gone away without anyone knowing anything. Her pretty pink pajamas with the butterflies looked almost too warm, yet when I picked her up, she wasn’t sweating. Funny. Never held a child this size before. She smells like the
powder my mama used to rub on me after a bath.
She shifts slightly in my arms and opens her eyes.
Uh-oh. If she gets upset I’ll make some excuse, put her back down, and leave. But she didn’t. The puzzled look changed to recognition as she gazed at my face. She yawned and closed her eyes again. Easy-peasy.
Everything I do in this apartment is for the best. Sure. The child is safe; she’ll be fine. Keep telling that to yourself. That’ll make everything better.
But I feel awful. Why’d the cops arrest the mother? That wasn’t part of the plan.
CHAPTER 4
Unable to put it off any longer Jonelle approached Marvin’s office. “Knock, knock,” she said, tapping on the frame of his always open office door. He raised his head from the papers scattered across his desk and smiled.
“Come on in, Jonnie. Give me an excuse to stop looking at these. My eyes are starting to cross,” he said.
She hurried over to the guest chair, sat, and immediately stood again. “Okay. Here’s the deal. I—the agency—may be able to help in a case involving the abduction of a small child. The cops arrested the mother, but they let her go and its early days yet.”
Marvin stared at her, mouth slightly open. He took off his reading glasses. “All I got from all that was help, abduction, and child.” He pointed to the guest chair.
Jonelle sat as if the principal had asked her to explain why the teacher told her to leave class.
“Clarify. In a logical fashion if you don’t mind.”
She grasped the arms of the chair and took a deep breath. “Okay. After I served the summons this morning I stopped by a convenience store for coffee. While I was there, I overheard conversations about someone abducting a small child who lived in the building across the street, but I’m not one hundred percent certain that’s where the kidnapper grabbed her. When I went over to talk to the apartment manager—”
“You did what?”
She swallowed. “I wanted to know more.”
Marvin’s face clouded.
“Um. Should I tell you the rest?”
“Might as well, considering your visit already happened.”
She twirled her handcuff and pistol necklace round and round between her fingers. “Right. So. The manager, Lorraine Watkins, also said Tamora—that’s the mother’s name—was a good parent, but there was some discrepancy on what she initially told the police and what they later found out.”
He raised his hand. “Bottom line it for me.”
Somewhat chastened, she lowered her voice. “I’ve offered the agency’s services to her court-appointed attorney Paul Langford. I told him I’d like to investigate what happened from the time his client left her apartment to the time the child went missing.”
Marvin leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Correct me if I’m wrong. All new cases go through me first. Is that your understanding?”
She nodded.
“So, on your own, you’ve gotten us a new case, without so much as a heads-up and no regard for what else this agency has on its plate. Is that also correct?”
She stared at her uncle without comment.
“We’re not ambulance chasers. I’ve worked damn hard over the years to get us the good, no, if I’m honest, great reputation we have. And then you go and solicit—”
“No.” Her tone made his eyebrows shoot up.
“I didn’t solicit. I offered to help because it sounded like something we should do . . . help a poor mother who’s probably frantic about what happened to her child.” She fought to push down her anger.
“I’m sorry, but I want to be an investigator and investigators investigate. I know I have to do whatever the agency requires, and I accept that. But all I have on my plate now are a few lousy summonses to deliver. And then what? Yes, I get that we all have work to do, but things have slowed a bit.” She pointed to the papers. “Even you can see that. All I want to do is help. And besides, the attorney doesn’t even know if he can hire us. He has to speak to his supervisor first.”
“You done?”
“Yes.”
Their eyes locked and hardened.
A loud throat clearing turned their attention to the open door.
“You two okay? I only ask because your voices are carrying all the way out to the front.” Rainey looked from one to the other, concern clouding her pale blue eyes.
“Sorry. Please close the door. We’ll be done in a few minutes,” Marvin said.
“I’ll tell Ben and Omar the weekly meeting will begin a little late. It’ll give Ben more donut eating time.” With a quick glance at them both, she gently closed the door.
Marvin leaned back in his chair. “You did all this because you’re bored. Does that sum it up?”
“Partly,” she admitted. “I don’t mind the grunt work . . . at least not much. But I’m starting to feel like one of those commercials where someone is pedaling like mad on a stationary bike, sweat pouring down their face, and going absolutely nowhere.” There. She said it.
“In that scenario are you the person or the bike?”
He had her there. “Both,” she said.
“Reputation is everything in this business, Jonelle—”
“I know that.”
He slapped his hand on his desk and leaned forward.
Her eyes widened in alarm.
“Let me finish. If people think we’re going around trolling for business by passing leaflets on the corner, or flipping a sign through the air, or even passing out business cards to whomever will take one, I’ve gone from top of the line to bottom of the barrel.”
She loved her uncle. But his rigidity when it came to the agency got on her nerves. After silently counting to ten, she lowered her voice and continued. “Look at it this way. No matter how great a company is, if somebody comes along who does something better, reputation makes no difference. People want results. What’s the difference if people find us through small print or digital ads, word of mouth, or active, uh, participation?”
“You went behind my back,” he said, in a voice resembling a six-year-old boy instead of a sixty-plus-year-old man.
So that was it. “This was a spontaneous thing. I didn’t go out seeking a client. If I hadn’t gone in that place for coffee, I’d have never known about the child. Burt didn’t even have any details.”
Marvin laced his fingers together, placed them on top of his head, leaned back, and stared up at the ceiling.
“I called Burt to see if he knew anything about the kidnapping,” she said. “He told me the district, and got the public defender’s name.”
He lowered his eyes and hands and stared at Jonelle for a bit, shaking his head over and over. “You don’t waste any time, do you? Guess I should be proud you have initiative.”
She breathed easier. “Thanks. It’s entirely possible Langford will call and reject my offer.”
“You want a yes though, right?”
“Of course.”
He sighed deeply and stood. “I’m guessing that you probably impressed the guy so much that he’ll sell your suggestion to his boss.”
“We don’t need to mention this in today’s staff meeting, right?” she asked, rising to meet his eyes. “I mean, since there’s nothing official yet.” Plus, she didn’t want the guys to pepper her with questions she couldn’t answer.
“Next week. But before you agree to anything, I want to see the paperwork. If I think the price offered for our, that is, your service, is too low, I’ll pass.” He held her eyes. “And that’ll end your involvement.”
She hadn’t thought about price. She only wanted to help a young mother prove she didn’t have anything to do with her daughter’s disappearance.
• • •
Jonelle eyed the clock on the wall. Only a few minutes until the one o’clock staff meeting. Normally the first to arrive, she lingered in her office, waiting for Langford’s call. Though tempted, it wasn’t in her DNA to keep her uncle waiting, even though other agents Omar Kama
l and Ben Winfield didn’t share that trait. Her phone rang as she stepped into the hall.
She recognized the number. “Mr. Langford, glad you called.”
“Don’t have much time. Wanted to let you know it’s a go. Give me your fax number and I’ll send the documents in about an hour or so. Return ’em ASAP.” She recited the number and he disconnected.
Trying hard to keep from jumping for joy, Jonelle entered the conference room to find Omar already seated around the oval table. The agent’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “My clock must be fast if I beat you here,” he said. “That and the fact there’s nothing to eat must mean bad Karma’s on the way.”
“Not necessarily,” Jonelle said, sitting next to him. “Ben’s not here yet.”
“Oh, yes I am,” Ben said, entering and sitting in a beige tweed-covered chair across from Jonelle. “I’d’ve been here earlier, but since there’s nothing to eat,” he shot Rainey a look, which she ignored, “I got myself a cup of coffee. You know. To keep the hunger pangs at bay.”
“Like you need more food,” Rainey shot back. “Your wife will thank me for helping you stick to your diet.”
Marvin clapped his hands. “Okay, guys. Before we get started, Rainey can you close the blinds? While I love the wall of windows, the sunlight’s a bit intense right now.”
Rainey rose to comply.
“Thanks. Let’s get started.” His eyes darted over to Jonelle. “Instead of going in seniority, I can tell from the look on Jonelle’s face that she has news so she can go first.”
She took a deep breath. “I was gonna save this for next week but . . . Paul Langford from the public defender’s office called to say they’ve accepted my offer to help on a missing child case. He’s gonna fax me the documents.”
The two senior agents looked from her to Marvin, who, after a slight pause, nodded.
Ben whistled. “I’m gonna call you Miss Velcro, ’cause crime seems to stick to you. Do we wanna know how you got involved?”
“I think not,” Omar said. “That kinda stuff doesn’t interest me anyway.”
Jonelle stared into Omar’s brown, almost black eyes until he glanced away. “That’s not important now. I’ll fill you guys in at the next meeting when I have more information.”
Five Minutes Page 2
