She swore under her breath.
“I’ll ignore what I thought I heard. See you in half an hour.” Burt disconnected without waiting for her response.
Jonelle started her Jeep and headed in the direction she last saw the two vehicles. Burt could cool his heals for a few extra minutes. She needed to confirm the driver of the SUV was, indeed, Lorraine Watkins. She scanned the rows and drove up and down the last two sections. Nothing.
After a few minutes she gave up on trying to find the SUV and exited the mall’s main entrance when something Burt said came back. He’d hinted the person Baltimore Vice was interested in could be female.
• • •
The drive to the Howard County police department took a little over thirty minutes. She signed in, got a vistor’s badge and headed upstairs. Standing beside Burt’s desk she said, “So, haven’t seen you in a while. How’re things going?” Jonelle pointed to his tie. “I like that one. Can’t go wrong with the Roadrunner.”
With one hand Burt wordlessly indicated for her to take a seat. She obliged by holding her tongue and sitting in the guest chair opposite his desk.
“I’ll cut to the chase,” Burt said.
“Please do,” Jonelle responded. She didn’t know what his problem was, but this all-business attitude coming from him wasn’t something she was used to. “Listen, if you’re upset because I didn’t tell you about Tamora’s acting in porn films before, it’s because I found that out not too long ago.”
Burt tapped a manilla folder. “While waiting for you to come in, I got a copy of the Baltimore Vice operation. I glanced through the report and found something interesting. Seems there’s some new talent offering her services. The description doesn’t fit you, but it does match a friend of yours.” He slid the folder in front of her. “Why don’t you review this and tell me if the person sounds like someone you know.”
Uh-oh.
With some trepidation, Jonelle read the words on a summary of surveillance at a place identified as Playcat Productions. The document listed dates and times of all individuals going in and out of the establishment. Her heart raced, sure her own name would appear. She double checked the dates and almost fell to the floor. Vice’s surveillance included the night Adrienne entered the location.
“You okay?” Burt asked.
“Sure,” she croaked. She cleared her throat. “I could use a drink of water.”
She waited until he left to read the rest. Behind a list of vehicles recorded near that place, as well as their tag numbers, were photographs of people exiting each one, walking across the street and going up to the door.
Sweat popped out on her forehead. She wiped her hands on her pants to keep from smudging the pages. There stood Adrienne, fuzzy but recognizable, entering the building.
Several photos later showed a light-colored SUV parked at the curb. A familiar-looking female leaned out of the driver’s side window, talking to Tamora.
“I’ll be damn.”
She flipped through several more pictures. A few were of a woman carrying a tote full of supplies. “Who’s that?”
“Cleaning woman. She’s legit. Comes in once a week in the mornings. Vice doesn’t see any need to get her involved and doesn’t want her changing her routine.” Burt placed the water bottle on the desk and sat in his chair.
She slid the folder back across without looking at the rest of the contents.
“If no one’s called Adrienne yet, they will soon. Now, I don’t know her as well as you do, but she doesn’t seem the type to deal with this kind of business. Also,”—Burt slid the folder back—“you should study the rest of these. Adrienne wasn’t the only to have her picture taken.”
Jonelle found the photo of herself. “Ohmigod. How. . . ?”
Burt ignored the question. “You’ve been ID’d, and the fact your PI license is clean and up to date is a plus in your favor. They know you didn’t go inside, and when you went around the back where the garbage bins are, they assumed you weren’t there for an audition. Not so in Adrienne’s case.” He paused.
Jonelle gulped water. It was one thing for her to get called in by the cops. That was part of the job. Adrienne was a different matter. Her best friend had an important position in the University of Maryland’s Admissions Office, and any hint of scandal could jeopardize her career.
“I know this looks bad. Adrienne was only there because I pressured her to see if she could get inside and find out more about what goes on in that place in order to check on Tamora. Obviously, she’d have a better chance of getting inside than me, plus she thought it would be a hoot.”
“Hoot, huh? You see me laughing?”
An imaginary hand reached inside Jonelle’s chest and squeezed. For a moment she had trouble breathing.
He squinted at her. “Your claustrophobia acting up?”
“Burt, this is all my fault,” she gasped. “You’ve got to do everything you can to get her out of this.”
“What about you?”
That did it. “If you’re accusing me of something, go ahead and do it and stop treating me like a kid.”
Burt pursed his lips, grabbed the folder, placed it under his arm, and stood.
“Wait,” Jonelle said, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I’m being selfish here. I really don’t want Adrienne involved. I’ll do whatever you want so long as her name isn’t included.” She nodded at the folder.
Her phone rang. The frown on Burt’s face warned her against answering, so she turned the cellphone off.
For several seconds the only words spoken were those of the other detectives in the unit.
“Burt?”
“Yeah. I’m thinkin’.”
Burt had loosened his tie as he leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling. Never one to sit still while waiting, she picked up a pen covered in a rubberized version of Dory the fish from “Finding Dory.” She turned the object around and around until Burt spoke.
“Okay,” he said, sitting upright. “You need to back off that place. Vice knows what’s going on, and they’re more interested in the drugs. For now. But the slightest hint of kids anywhere near that place and all bets are off. I don’t think I need to tell you that just because you don’t see cops, doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”
Jonelle worked for the lawyer for one of the porn stars and could always claim she had a right to scope out the place. Unfortunately she’d drawn not only Adrienne but also Luther into her plan.
“Okay. I hear you. I’ll find some other way to pin Tamora down.”
“Hope so. What else you got?”
She swallowed hard. “I’ve talked to three youngsters who live in the building where Lark disappeared.”
“About this? What the hell’re you doing?”
“No, not about this and there’s no need to shout. It’s related to the case, but not the, um, drugs or adult film angle.”
“Kids are tricky,” he said, his voice an octave lower. “How old are we talking about here?”
“Twelve.”
“You interviewing them with or without their parents?”
“I’m not interviewing them, per se. They wanted to talk to me, and I said yes. It was more of a social thing rather than a Q and A session. They didn’t mention wanting to bring their parents, and I didn’t insist.”
“‘Social,’ huh? You sure about that?”
She ignored the sarcasm. “Well? Am I in trouble here?”
He rubbed his chin. “You should be okay. You know, of course, that whatever they tell you can’t be used in any legal sense.”
“All I want is to know what everyone’s gossiping about or who they’ve seen hanging around that apartment. If I’m lucky I’ll find out something new, but I won’t press. I promise.”
“Fine. But to cover all your bases, why not run what you’re doing by the attorney first?”
Without comment Burt reached inside his desk and pulled out a pad of paper. He selected the same “Dory” pen from the holder on his de
sk and slid both to her. “Write down everything you found out about that place and everything you know about Tamora Phelps and her connection to adult films. I also want the names of everyone involved.”
Jonelle picked up the pen without comment.
“When you’re done here, I’ll contact vice and explain your actions, so don’t leave anything out.”
Burt treating her like this made her face burn. “Last I heard naked lady pictures weren’t against the law,” she said.
He leaned across the desk, inches from her face. “An adult taking her clothes off isn’t the only issue. We’re talking drugs and underage kids. And last I heard, those are definitely against the law. They tracked Adrienne out of that place and noted she didn’t seem too steady on her feet.”
Crap. She’d forgotten that Adrienne, in order to fit in, had smoked pot. If Adrienne had seen kids in there, she would’ve said something. “Listen, all she had was a little weed, nothing heavy.” At least Jonelle hoped not. “She didn’t bring any drugs with her, and she damn sure doesn’t know anything about kiddie porn. She’d have told me, and we’d have come straight over here.”
The only reason Jonelle didn’t fill an entire sheet of paper with one oversized crude word was knowing that if she did, she’d get her best friend in serious trouble. She sighed deeply and began addressing everything in the vice report, filling in the events from the time Adrienne left the car until she returned.
After reading over what she’d written, she scribbled the names Lorraine Watkins and Miss Maxine . . . and added Randy, Shawn Mowerby, and Jelani Hill. Even though she didn’t know some of the last names, she provided the location where each lived. A few words of her suspicions about the two women without going into a lot of detail might warrant a visit from the cops. In turn, that could spook them enough for either or both to make a mistake. A mistake that she could use to her advantage.
CHAPTER 32
Jonelle didn’t like the tension that slid between her and Burt almost without effort. When she finished writing, it became clear after ten minutes of waiting that he wasn’t going to return anytime soon. So, Jonelle dashed off a short note expressing regret again and signing it with an “I’m sorry” and smiley face. Her phone chimed as she left the division and entered the hall.
“Sorry to bother you, hon,” Rainey said. “But one of those kids called. Think she said her name was Piper. I wouldn’t have called you except she sounded excited. Said she’d tried to call but your phone went to voicemail. She didn’t want to tell me anything except that it was an emergency.” Rainey recited a phone number.
Instead of continuing down the hall and toward the lobby, Jonelle found a ladies room and ducked inside. She punched in the number, and after only two rings a young voice answered.
“Piper? It’s Jonelle Sweet. I understand you’re trying to reach me. I got hung up here at the police station but I’m heading to your building now. Should take about fifteen, twenty minutes. Where can I find you?”
“Police? You arrested or something?”
In spite of the pain pounding in her head, Jonelle smiled. “No. Not yet, anyway.”
“Oh.” Disappointment came through the line. “So. I’m home. Grayson and Fred are on their way. And my mom’s here. When I told her what we heard, she said she needs to talk to you.”
“Heard what?”
“We were outside out back, foolin’ around on the swings, and we heard a couple ladies sayin’ that they heard somebody say they’d seen Lark.”
“On my way.” Jonelle hurried out of the precinct. She called Adrienne and left a voicemail stating it was urgent she see her concerning Tamora and the porn studio.
The drive over to Piper’s apartment gave Jonelle time to fume about the mess she’d gotten her best friend into. “No more,” Jonelle murmured as she parked close to the building’s entrance, though she’d made the same comment several times before.
A flash of light and a reflection of an SUV glinted in the glass doors. Jonelle turned and faced the profile of Lorraine Watkins pulling the silver vehicle into an assigned spot near the front. The apartment manager exited the vehicle, followed by Miss Maxine who, upon looking in her direction, stared open-mouthed at Jonelle.
“Hello, ladies,” Jonelle said brightly. “Nice to see you both again.”
Watkins frowned. “Don’t know if Tamora’s in or not. We just came from, uh, shopping.”
Jonelle held the glass doors open and stepped aside. “Not here to see Tamora. I got a call from someone who says they have information about Lark.”
Maxine looked from Watkins to Jonelle. Her hand settled near her throat. “You sayin’ they found Lark?”
“You don’t seem very happy, Miss Maxine. Something wrong?” Jonelle asked.
“She’s got to get upstairs, right Maxine?” Watkins said.
Miss Maxine hesitated as if confused as to whose question she should answer first.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Watkins said in a loud, firm voice.
Miss Maxine scurried off, stabbed the elevator’s up button several times before finally entering and staring at the floor. After the doors closed, Jonelle followed Watkins into the manager’s office.
“Can’t talk to you now, I’m busy.” Watkins sat and shuffled through papers covering the surface of the desk.
“I saw you guys at the strip mall up the street,” Jonelle said.
Watkins hesitated slightly before continuing to rearrange papers on the desk.
“This was after I had a little conversation with Randy and a friend of his named Shawn.”
The apartment manager’s movements slowed.
“But I guess you already know that since you all got together, right?”
Watkins looked up. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you are getting on my nerves. My business is my business and—”
“Not if it involves an abducted child,” Jonelle said.
“Don’t try pinning that on me. I had nothing to do with whoever snatched Lark.”
Jonelle pulled the visitor’s chair closer to the desk and sat.
“The problem with this whole thing is why Lark. There are a lot of children in this building, all ages, sizes, colors. Someone went all the way up to the seventh floor, up to the door, walked in without Miss Maxine’s knowledge—or so she claims—entered, and grabbed the child. Why did he or she pick Lark?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“And why didn’t Lark scream?”
“Same answer. You better leave before I call the cops. You’re trespassing and—”
“I just came from the cops where we discussed Tamora’s acting gig as a porn star. Along with drug use and possible involvement with kiddie porn. You know anything about all that?”
“I . . . I don’t believe you.”
Jonelle indicated the manager’s desk phone. “Go ahead and call the cops. Ask to speak to homicide detective Thelonius Burton.”
Watkins’ cellphone chirped on her desk, making the woman jump. She stabbed a finger on the screen, silencing the ring. “I want you to leave.”
Jonelle stood. “Vice has the studio under surveillance. Did you know that? They have several photos and asked me to ID anyone I knew. Funny thing. One of the pics showed a heavyset black woman dressed in a knit dress leaning out of a car Tamora had exited. The two were laughing. When I looked more closely, I could swear that person looked like you. Thing is, vice didn’t need me to identify the woman because they already know her name.”
Deep worry lines cut into Watkins’ face.
“I’m going upstairs to talk to some people. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
The apartment manager turned and stared out the window. Her phone chimed again. She made no attempt to answer.
Jonelle leaned over the desk, and read the screen. The Baltimore police department’s name and number showed. She pointed an index finger. “Better answer that.”
Still smiling, Jonelle took t
he elevator up several floors and approached the door to seven fifteen. Her arm was still raised when the door flew open. “What took you so long, Miss?” Piper held Jonelle’s gaze with one hand placed on her hip.
“Watch your manners, young lady.” Mrs. Enruth came up and stood behind her daughter.
“Sorry.” Though the word sounded sincere, the expression on her face indicated Piper wasn’t pleased.
“They’re getting a little anxious,” Mrs. Enruth said, ushering Jonelle into the neat apartment. Seated around the dining room table were Grayson and Fred munching on plates of sloppy joe’s and chips. “Take a seat. Fix you anything?.”
“I’m having a cheese and tomato sandwich,” Piper added. “Want one?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.” She marveled that the youngsters could still eat after all that pizza a few hours ago.
“Something to drink then? Coffee? Tea? Something cold?”
Though anxious to find out what the kids knew, she waited until Piper’s mom had placed a cup of coffee in front of her. “Aren’t you having anything?”
“She’s already had two,” Piper said.
Mrs. Enruth pulled out a chair. “Snitch.”
Jonelle smiled at the easy relationship between the two. “What’ve you guys got for me?” She sipped the steaming hot coffee.
Grayson looked at Piper’s mother, who nodded slightly.
“We were out back on the swings ’cause we finished walking the dogs and didn’t have anything else to do,” he said.
“She doesn’t wanna hear that part. Jeesh,” Fred said.
“You go and tell it, then!”
“Knock it off you two,” Mrs. Enruth scolded. “Go ahead, Grayson.”
He made a face at Fred before he continued. “There was these two ladies from my floor, and one of ’em was sayin’ she thought she saw Lark in the basement.”
“What?” Jonelle didn’t believe what she was hearing. “You sure they were talking about Lark?”
All three nodded.
“What else?”
“They were arguing. One said no way, and the other one said it was true ’cause she seen this guy before, washing little kid clothes. And she said he didn’t look like the type to go around washing anybody’s clothes. Stuff like that.”
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