Five Minutes

by R. Lanier Clemons

  She removed her weapon from the lockbox, fastened the holstered pistol around her waist, and pulled out her shirt to hide the gun from view. Satisfied, she left the Jeep and headed over to the parked sedan, using the full lot to cover her movements. Several shoppers milled about the lot, a few staring open-mouthed at the black woman weaving in and out of the parked cars. Someone honked at her to get out of the way.

  She waved a “hold your horses” and, with eyes still glued to the sedan, closed the distance. Even with the tinted back windows, she made out the silhouettes of two people. Jonelle stopped. The figures had their heads turned to each other. Hands waving through the air from both indicated some sort of disagreement. Jonelle ducked behind an olive green Land Rover.

  She figured that if anyone in the vehicle carried a weapon, most likely he sat on the passenger’s side, so she scooted over to the driver’s open window. Angry words floated out of the car.

  “Now what? We jus’ sittin’ here. What you wann do, man? I ain’t got all day.”

  “Me neither,” Jonelle said, popping up, hand resting on her weapon. “Help you boys?” She swallowed a gasp as the driver turned at the sound of her voice. Randy stared back, hazel eyes wide in disbelief.

  “Well, hello there,” she said. “For some reason I didn’t think you got up this early.” She bent down and recognized the passenger. Shawn’s face perfectly matched Randy’s expression.

  “Didn’t know you guys were friends. We need to talk. Wanna do it here or maybe go inside somewhere for a chat?”

  Randy faced forward, jaw clenched. “Ain’t no place to sit around here.”

  Jonelle didn’t know if either man carried a weapon, but she’d use hers if necessary. She pulled the back door handle. Locked. “Open it,” she demanded.

  “What?”

  “Open the damn door. I’m hot, and I’m tired and I’m not playing games.” She patted the side of her waist for emphasis.

  Randy’s eyes grew large. He disengaged the lock.

  “Thanks.” She slid in behind him.

  “How you doin’, Shawn? Seen Tamora lately?”

  Shawn faced the dirty windshield.

  “Don’t want to talk? Well, that’s okay . . . for now. I don’t mind starting the conversation. Here’s the deal, guys. I don’t like being followed. Pisses me off, to tell the truth. So, which one of you wants to explain the reason why this is the third time?”

  “Don’t know what you talkin’ about, lady,” Randy said.

  “I think you do, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Wasn’t me you think you saw, but, hey, I like drivin’ around. Lookin’ at the view.” Randy turned his head toward Shawn who ignored him.

  “And I’m the best view you got? Really, guys, I’m flattered. I know Shawn here likes other things to look at, right? Such as helping very attractive former co-workers in their new acting jobs. Though, I think in that particular case, those people aren’t called actresses. They’re called models. Am I right?”

  That got him to turn around. He glared at Jonelle. “What the hell you talkin’ about?”

  She removed the flier about Playcat’s latest production and waved the advertisement in his face. “This. This is what I’m talking about.”

  He made a grab for the ad, but she pulled away. “Not so fast. Listen, ordinarily I wouldn’t give a damn what someone does in his or her free time. But Tamora’s involved and so I’m involved. Whatever she does, whomever she talks to, and wherever she goes may impact what happened to her child. And since I’m sure everybody connected to her knows that, I get real suspicious when the spotlight turns on me. Understand?”

  Randy mumbled something under his breath.

  She leaned forward. “What was that? Speak up, Randy.”

  “I said, that porn crap got nothin’ to do with me.”

  “Don’t care one way or the other. Someone saw you outside Tamora’s apartment when she wasn’t there, talking to someone inside. Who was it?”

  “I didn’t do nothin’ to that kid,” he said.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  His hands tightened around the steering wheel. An angry silence hung in the car.

  “What did you need inside her apartment?”

  “Don’t say another word, man,” Shawn cautioned.

  “Look, I can’t let her sit here and accuse me of kidnapping,” Randy yelled.

  “Calm down,” Jonelle said. His outburst froze shoppers heading for their vehicles. She didn’t want to deal with some guy going off. She smiled and called out through the open window, “No problem, folks. Everything’s all right.” Jonelle lowered her voice. “I’m not accusing you of anything, yet. Right now I’m only interested in what happened to Lark. Whatever else goes on in her place is between the two of you.” And Langford’s since the situation involved Tamora, but she didn’t tell him that.

  “Weed, okay? And if I’m lucky, I can score some snow.”

  “Shut up, fool.” Shawn aimed a fist at Randy’s face.

  “Wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you,” she said, slapping the leather holster for emphasis. “All we’re having here is a nice conversation, so relax. Go on, Randy.”

  He moved as far away from Shawn as he could. “She’s got stuff stashed in her place and said I could go inside and grab some. We got a real easy deal. All I gotta do is leave the money in the fridge under the milk.”

  “If she’s not home, how’d you get in?”

  “Ah, I get where you’re goin’ with this.” He turned halfway around and grinned lopsidedly at Jonelle. “Yeah. You’re right. Ole busybody Maxine would let me in.”

  That wasn’t where she was going.

  “You dumb sonofabitch,” Shawn said. “Stupid junkie don’t know how to keep his mouth shut,” he grumbled. “This is on you, man. I’m outta here.” He made to reach for the door handle, but Jonelle’s voice stopped him.

  “We’re not done. I don’t care about drugs or porn. But, if you leave this car without answering my questions, I’m taking everything I know to the cops. I’ve got a pretty good idea of events leading up to and including how someone got in and grabbed Lark. But then, what? I know you wander around at night, right Randy? All that going up and down halls, in and out of the building. How much do you know about that night?”

  Both men clamped their mouths shut.

  “Let’s go back to Miss Maxine. Was she the one in Tamora’s apartment you were talking to?”

  Randy stayed quiet.

  “I heard Maxine hangs out around this mall with Mrs. Watkins. Hate to lean on an old lady, but a woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do. Wonder what the cops’ll say when they find out Maxine lets people in Tamora’s apartment. And that Watkins probably knows all about it. They might put two and two together and get five.” She made to leave the car.

  “Hold it, willya?” Shawn swiveled in his seat. “Leave her alone.”

  Something about his face, especially around the nose, the eyes. “Oh, hello? What’s your relationship to Lorraine Watkins?”

  He turned back around so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash.

  “Let me guess,” she said, warming up to the idea. “You probably told Watkins Tamora ditched her day job. You were already involved in Playcat, so you offered to help. You suggested a way Tamora’s, um, attributes could earn her some real cash. Be a better deal than sitting on your butt all day and night earning minimum wage. For half the work, she could make at least twice the amount of money.”

  Randy spoke up. “What’re you guys talkin’ about?” He flicked a thumb toward the backseat. “She’s sayin’ Watkins and you are related? What is she, your ma? Damn, dude. You could’ve told me. That explains a lot.”

  Shawn grunted and stared straight ahead.

  Jonelle leaned her forearms on the front seat. “Seems a lot of people are keeping you in the dark about things, Randy. I’m guessing the reason is because they don’t trust you.”

  “Don’t
listen to her, man. She’s fishin’ around. She don’t know nothin’,” Shawn said.

  “I know you haven’t denied anything I said,” Jonelle shot back. “This is how I think it works. Tamora met Shawn at her day job. I suppose she got the night job on her own. She gets fired from both jobs but keeps to the same routine for the benefit of the neighbors. Next, Shawn here turned her on to the studio. I think she’s so popular that she’s not only filming at night but also during the day.”

  Jonelle wracked her brain. “Wonder what else she’s doing. You got any ideas on that, Shawn?”

  “Whoa,” Randy said. “She gets naked for money, huh? Cool. You think I can get in on that action?”

  Jonelle wanted to smack the idiot upside the head. “I haven’t figured out the connection with Maxine or Lorraine Watkins . . . yet. I’ve got a detective friend who could check if either woman has ever been arrested. Hey, Shawn. You wanna save me some time?”

  He grunted.

  “I’ll take that as a no. What about you, Randy? What else are you doing inside Tamora’s apartment besides trolling for drugs?”

  “Told you I ain’t touched that kid.”

  She didn’t think he snatched Lark. His drug use probably fried several brain cells, and swiping the child required some finesse. She leaned in close to his ear. “What did you see the night Lark disappeared? Don’t insult my intelligence, Randy. You saw something. Otherwise your friend, here, wouldn’t have anything to do with you. Am I right?”

  Shawn turned in his seat and glared at her. “Don’t try and pin that kidnapping on me, either. I didn’t take the kid.”

  “Stop trying to screw with us,” Randy said. “You got the wrong idea, lady. Why don’t you check out Mrs. Watkins?”

  “Shut up, fool,” Shawn hissed. “I’m tellin’ you she’s fishin’. She don’t know nothin’.”

  “I ain’t going down for somethin’ I didn’t do. You want answers, talk to her,” Randy said. “Or Maxine.”

  “Thanks for the suggestions. Assuming for one minute you really didn’t take Lark, or know who did, what did you see that night?”

  His fingers picked at the lesions on his face. A few times he glanced over at Shawn who resumed pretending Randy didn’t exist. A trail of sweat flowed from Randy’s short, dark hair, down to his chin. He stopped gouging his face long enough to wipe the moisture away.

  Jonelle scooted to the center of the backseat to get a better look at him. “Not leaving until you tell me what happened that night.”

  A tense silence hung in the car for several seconds. Finally, Randy spoke up in a voice so low, Jonelle demanded he speak louder. “I said, the first time I walked up to her door, I changed my mind ’cause Tamora gets mad if I come back too many times. So, I went to the stairwell and sat inside for a minute, thinkin’ about what to do.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “So, after a while I figured I didn’t care if she got pissed. Tamora never stayed mad for very long.”

  He paused.

  “What time was this?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “Go on.”

  “I left the stairwell, stopped at her door, and almost knocked but went on down to my own place at the other end of the hall. It was gettin’ kinda late, and she hates it when people disturb her daughter sleepin’. But I still needed my . . . ”

  He hesitated so long that Jonelle wanted to scream. “So,” she prompted, “you went back again. Was the door open or closed?”

  “It wasn’t open all the way. Only cracked. All I did was peek inside. I didn’t go all the way in. Honest!”

  Her heart raced. “What did you see, Randy?”

  His fingers continued attacking his pale skin. “Somebody dressed in black was holding something. I couldn’t see too good because their back was to me.”

  “Man or woman?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “The person you saw, was it a man or woman?”

  He glanced at Shawn out of the corner of his eye. “I . . . I’m not sure. Man, I think. I ran back to my room.”

  “What were you afraid of?” Jonelle wanted to scream. Instead she marveled at the fact these idiots didn’t drop breadcrumbs so that anyone could follow what they were doing.

  “I didn’t say nothin’ about bein’ scared.”

  “So why did you run back to your place? Did you have some idea of who the person was in Tamora’s apartment?”

  Randy sniffed several times and kept his mouth shut. Both men refused to answer any more questions. She resisted the urge to nudge Randy with her pistol, realizing that would probably freak both men out and push the situation to a dangerous place.

  She slid out of the backseat. “I’m not done, so you might want to consider being more upfront next time. You should know that when I get hold of something, I don’t let go.”

  Neither man responded.

  Jonelle zigzagged back to her Jeep, taking advantage of the almost-filled lot to conceal her movements. While the men didn’t know where she’d parked, from her vantage point behind the wheel of her Jeep, she kept an eye on their car.

  She reached into her console and removed a pair of mini binoculars and trained them on the car’s occupants. “Dumb and dumber are probably arguing about what to do next,” she mumbled to herself. “Good.” Instead of leaving, she decided to wait and follow them out. See how they liked someone shadowing their bumper. A quick check of her emails revealed nothing pressing, so she settled back against the car seat and let her mind wander.

  Everything Tamora did, she did for herself. While she tried not to judge, she found the young woman seriously lacking in common sense. Slowly, she began to consider the possibility Tamora had something to do with her daughter’s disappearance. But why? Jonelle needed to do more than sit in a hot car waiting for . . . what?

  A little excitement, that’s what. Something to happen so that she could get on with finding Lark. There it was. No longer did Jonelle care if Tamora did or did not have an alibi for the night Lark disappeared.

  She shook her head. Gotta concentrate. There was one other option for why the two men hadn’t moved—they were waiting for someone.

  CHAPTER 30

  Don’t like that I’ve been told to shove off. After all I’ve gone through. Shuffling back and forth from one place to the next. Did I complain? Well, not much. Not as much as that stupid ass Jelani. And for what? Nobody was supposed to get hurt. Especially not the little ones. They want me to give up my turn with my Butterfly Princess but I’m worried. Butterfly Princess. That’s how I’ve come to think of her.

  Had a close call in the building. My lookout gave me the all clear to grab some stuff from storage. Nobody was supposed to be down there. Nearly crapped on myself when I seen them two ladies. Don’t think they recognized Lark, though. Had her disguised pretty good. She loved dressing up different, with wigs and stuff. To her, playing pretend is a game. Only now the game needs to get rough.

  People are starting to panic because that detective is getting close. Wasn’t for her there’d be no problem. We’d take the pics and that would be that. And we wouldn’t put ‘em on social media, either. Too many eyes. We’re talkin’ private parties, here.

  A few preview snaps of Lark to see if anybody’s interested in kids that young. The contact said they’re not dirty—they’re art. Art my ass. I seen enough smut to know what’s what.

  They want art? Hell, I’ll show ’em what art’s all about. The more I look at my Butterfly Princess the more she wants to be with me and me only. I can tell. She looks at me different from before. And, hey, I’m seein’ a side of her I didn’t before.

  We all been lettin’ that detective run around like she owns the place. She’s scarin’ people into doing things they shouldn’t, causing everybody to make mistakes. Not me. She don’t scare me none.

  Time for somebody to put her in her place. Once I do that then the little Butterfly Princess will be safe. Safe with me, not with her whore of a mom.

  CH
APTER 31

  For several more minutes she sat sweating and staring at every car that passed by while at the same time keeping one eye on the still stationary sedan. She wiped her face with a tissue, checked again for messages, and fumed. The hell with this. She inserted her key into the ignition and decided those two would have to wait until later. Before she put the Jeep in gear, the slow movement of a silver SUV caught her attention.

  Tamora’s face stared straight ahead in the passenger seat. Unable to see who sat behind the wheel, Jonelle tracked the vehicle to a spot farther down on her right. Sure enough, the sedan with Randy and Shawn followed. Jonelle slid down in her seat. They knew her car, but she counted on them wanting to relay what happened to their contact as fast as possible.

  It was one thing to surprise two people, but four? Jonelle’s phone chimed. The display read Thelonius Burton. She groaned. “Hi, Burt. I’m kinda busy now, so—”

  “This isn’t a social call,” Burt said. “I wanted to let you know that we got a tip from Baltimore’s western district PD which may have some bearing on the disappearance of that little girl in your case.”

  She sat up. “You found her?”

  “That’s not what I mean. Vice says they’re watching someone involved in drugs, and possibly child pornography. Apparently activity in this area increased recently, and they’re running down several leads.”

  Jonelle’s stomach lurched. If she told Burt about Tamora’s staring in porn films, he’d want the police to take over her case. She didn’t want that to happen. This was hers. She fought for the opportunity and worked too hard to get this far. Yet . . .

  “You still there?”

  “Yeah. I uh . . . oh hell. I know something about the mother that might link to the suspect and his activities.” Jonelle wiped more sweat from her brow. She craned her neck to where she’d last seen the two vehicles but couldn’t find either one.

  “You better come in to the precinct. Now, rather than later,” Burt said. “And I didn’t say the suspect was male.”

  The edge in his voice warned the invite wasn’t open to debate.