Five Minutes

by R. Lanier Clemons

  “Vice thinks they’re also dealing drugs.”

  “They know about them kiddie pictures?”

  Jonelle didn’t think so. Burt seemed genuinely surprised that one of the performers was the mother of the missing child. “Don’t think so. I’ve got to figure out a way to get proof without telling them how I found out.”

  A chuckle rumbled from deep within Luther’s chest. “You done somethin’ illegal? Why do I get the feelin’ that one ’a these days I’m gonna have to bail you out?”

  He had her there.

  “Why you wanna go back, anyway?”

  “To find evidence that there’s more going on inside that place besides doing drugs or filming adult videos. I think Tamora may have gotten herself in some kind of terrible mess that involves Lark. I’ve got a sick feeling that this may only be the beginning of something much worse.”

  He rubbed the stubble on his face. “You know, I bet Riley could help. The cops around here ain’t seen her. Wouldn’t recognize her, anyway, ’specially the way she looks now.”

  Jonelle waved her hands in a dismissive gesture before Luther finished.

  “No. I can’t get anyone else involved. I might not know exactly what I’m looking for inside that place, but I’ll know when I see it. Besides, she’ll only complicate things if she gets caught. So, thanks, but no thanks.”

  His next comment set her back.

  “Why you think that just ’cause she lives here she don’t know ’bout things? Truth is Riley was a cop before she hooked up with us.”

  “Cop? What happened?”

  “Fell into drugs, stole some stuff from the police, and they kicked her out. Didn’t give her no jail time on account of she paid them back and was damn good at the job before things got rough. Later, she hung out with a lotta crazy men, which led to sellin’ herself to get by. She’s stayed clean as long as she’s been here ’cause we don’t allow no hard core druggies.”

  Jonelle lowered her voice to a whisper. “If she’s getting herself together, why’s she still here? No offense.”

  He snorted. “She likes the company. You wanna see if she can help or not?”

  In spite of herself, the idea intrigued her. “Sure. I’d like to meet her.”

  The same woman who’d answered Jonelle earlier, walked beside Luther up to where she sat perched on the milk crate.

  “Luther says you’re lookin’ for somebody to help with some kinda porno film actress,” Riley said, her eyes flitting from Luther to Jonelle.

  Now that the idea of getting into the studio was taking shape, she was having second thoughts. “They’re probably still surveilling that place, so I’ve gotta think of some other way to get the information I want. Thanks anyway, Riley.”

  “Listen, if it weren’t for the fact Luther says there might be kids involved, I’d tell you to screw off.”

  Jonelle gasped at the woman’s abrupt attitude.

  Luther laughed.

  Riley turned to go.

  “Hold on a minute,” Jonelle said. “I’m not rejecting the offer of help for any reason other than I don’t want to get you in trouble. How would you explain why you’re in there if you got caught?”

  Riley glanced at Luther, who nodded slightly.

  “Them places need cleaners, don’t they? And I’m guessin’ they use individuals rather than a regular cleaning service. So, you get me some rags and some cleaning supplies, and we’ll see what I can do.”

  “As a matter of fact they have a regular person. I’ve seen photos of her.”

  “She look anything like me?”

  “Nope. But maybe if you wear some kinda scarf on your head. Might work.”

  “Or you can tell them whatshername is sick and I’m her replacement.”

  The kernel of an idea popped in her head. “Or, how about this? The date and time stamp was on the photo. There’s really only one way in and out of that street. We’ll park at the head of the street, about a half hour before the cleaning lady’s scheduled to start. I’ll approach her and say . . . something like you’re gonna help out temporarily. To get the place ready for a special shoot or something.”

  Riley wrinkled her nose but kept her mouth shut.

  They tossed around several more ideas, but none were any better than the first.

  “Let’s try this. You and I will sit at the end of the block in my Jeep. I’ll pick you up here at eight tomorrow morning and—”

  “—Make it eight thirty.”

  “Um. Okay. Eight thirty. We head out to the studio and wait until ten or so. If nobody shows, I’ll see if I can figure some other way to get you inside. We might have to go back another day, but I’d hate to waste much time.”

  “Lady, I know how to get inside. What I wanna be sure of is what you want me to do once I’m in there.”

  Jonelle bit her tongue. Riley’s abrasiveness grated on her nerves. “I’m looking for photos of children, especially this one.” Jonelle took the flier from Luther and gave it to Riley.

  The woman studied it closely and returned it to Luther.

  “Also, I think someone is hiding the child somewhere, and if you see signs of people living there—”

  “—Didn’t you notice that before?”

  Jonelle’s tongue was in danger of turning bloody. “I haven’t been inside,” she said through gritted teeth. “My focus at first was the mother. Now I’m looking at the apartment manager, along with two or three other people. At this point I need something to hold the manager’s feet to the fire. If I can find proof she’s involved, she might tip her hand and lead me to Lark. Right now I don’t want the cops to raid the place and scare everybody off.”

  At roughly the same height and weight, one black, the other white, the two women sized up each other. Luther hadn’t said a word. His head twisted from one to the other, a crooked grin on his face.

  “Well,” he said, slapping his hands together. “Much as I like watchin’ this program the two of you got goin’, I’m gettin’ hungry.”

  Without another word, Riley turned her back on Jonelle and left.

  “What’s with her?” She’d come across people like that and thought she knew the answer.

  “Nothin’. She’s different is all—same as the rest of us. Once you take the time to learn who she is, ain’t no big deal.”

  Jonelle didn’t have a lot of time. She stared in the direction where Riley had gone. “I don’t know, Luther. What if I get here and she’s changed her mind?”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to think of somethin’ else.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Jonelle arrived at the warehouse a minute before the agreed upon time. Before she had a chance to turn off the Jeep’s engine, Riley slid through the opening in the chain link fence, and climbed into the passenger seat without comment . . . or invitation.

  Not one for chit-chat herself in the mornings, Jonelle nodded a greeting to Riley who returned the gesture. All the way over to the studio, Jonelle thought of starting a conversation, but judging from the woman’s expression, changed her mind. Let her make the first move, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for her juvenile attitude. After all, Riley was doing her a favor.

  “What’re you starin’ into space for?” Riley asked, pulling Jonelle back into the here and now.

  “Thinking about something I have to do later. Here’s the street. I’m gonna pull behind that large dumpster.” The dashboard clock read a little after nine.

  “Here’s a burner phone I got. If things get hairy, gimme a call. I already programmed the number.” She got out and went around the back of the Jeep.

  “Hey. Where you goin’?”

  “Gotta find some way to get the cleaning lady to stop here.” Jonelle removed a bucket of cleaning supplies from the back and placed it on the ground. Next, she withdrew two orange cones. “These should slow her enough for me to run up and talk to her about how you’re here to help.”

  “Got a better idea. You give her some cash to stay out all tog
ether, and I’ll get inside and do my own thing.”

  Jonelle sighed. The urge to tell off this irritating woman was so strong it made her teeth hurt. Instead of letting loose, she carried a cone in each hand and stomped to the front of the Jeep. A few steps before rounding the trash container to set up her mini roadblock, a silver SUV roared from the opposite direction and flew down the street.

  “Who the hell’s that?”

  Jonelle jumped. She hadn’t heard Riley walk up.

  “Unless someone else drives the same car, that’s the apartment manager, Lorraine Watkins.”

  “So, what do we do now, Sherlock?”

  Jonelle turned and faced Riley. “You know what? Not gonna be any ‘we.’ I’m taking your sorry ass back to the warehouse. I’ll figure out something else on my own.” She stomped back to the car.

  Riley didn’t move from her position near the Jeep’s front bumper.

  She flung the cones in the back.

  Riley stood by the road, staring into the distance.

  Now what? Although she’d rather leave the woman standing there, she didn’t want to upset Luther. After counting slowly to twenty, she went and stood next to her.

  “The driver went inside. Alone, from what I can see,” Riley said, pushing dirty blond hair from her forehead. “Look, uh, Jonelle is it? I ain’t good at bein’ nice. You want help findin’ that little girl, I’m in. But don’t expect sweetness an’ light ’cause that ain’t me. Got it?”

  “Fine. Now let me tell you a little about me. I can take a lot of abuse as long as it’s not disrespectful. And I like being in charge. Oh, I’ll listen to suggestions. But don’t for one minute think I’ll give up control, ’cause that ain’t me. Got it?”

  A sideways peek at the slight upturned corner of Riley’s mouth and a quick glance at the woman’s beady blue eyes told Jonelle the two understood each other. “Okay. Let’s start over. For some reason Watkins seems in a hurry. No idea what’s so important.”

  “You think maybe the kid’s in there and she got spooked by you nosing around and came back to move her somewheres else?”

  “Could be. If the kid’s in there, that’s a whole new can of worms.”

  When Adrienne went inside, she’d focused on the office area. Not the storage areas, studios, nor any possible open spaces in the back. Playcat used as a hiding place? Maybe.

  A loud muffler signaled the arrival of a green sedan. The loud rumbling was accompanied by exhaust and the caustic smell of burning oil. The sedan slowed to a stop before rounding the corner where Jonelle and Riley stood.

  Jonelle’s “helper” strutted over to the driver’s side window.

  “Hey. Didn’t you get the message?” Riley demanded.

  Dammit. There she goes again, Jonelle thought.

  She elbowed Riley away and held the wide, doe eyes of a brown-skinned woman sitting behind the steering wheel. Two rosaries, one black and one white, dangled from the rear view mirror.

  “Sorry about that.” Jonelle’s eyes demanded Riley keep her mouth shut. “We’re not here to keep you from doing your job. Only . . . well, the guys inside have a big production planned and need an extra special clean-up job. And, so here we are. No worries, though. It’s only for today.”

  Riley snickered.

  In a firm voice Jonelle said to Riley, “Why don’t you go get your cleaning stuff? And bring me my purse . . . please.”

  With smirk still planted on her narrow face, Riley gave a mock salute and headed to Jonelle’s Jeep.

  Jonelle turned back to the woman. “Sorry about the confusion,” she said. “Guess nobody told you we’re here to help out. So, how about this? I’ll pay you for your inconvenience if you’ll let my friend go with you to the studio in your car ’cause, uh, I’ve gotta take my Jeep to another appointment.”

  “So how she get back home? Once I’m done I gotta go to my next place. No way I got time to take her to . . . wherever.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ll pick her up. So, how long does it take for you to do that whole place by yourself?”

  The woman shrugged. “Couple hours. Only gotta clean office and studios.”

  “See, that’s why we’re here. To clean the rest of it.”

  Another shrug. “Whatever.”

  Riley returned with the bucket of cleaning supplies and Jonelle’s bag. She set the bucket down next to the car.

  Jonelle dug inside, pulled out a twenty, and handed the money to the woman who stuffed the bill in her pocket without comment.

  “Now what?” Riley raised her eyebrows at Jonelle.

  “Be right back.” She gave the woman her best conciliatory smile and motioned Riley away from the sedan. The thought of sending someone she now considered two bottles short of a six-pack into an unknown situation filled Jonelle with a sense of unease. This was wrong, yet the only way to get inside the studio without alarm bells going off was to send someone that Watkins—and vice—didn’t know.

  “Are we gonna do this or what?” Riley crossed her arms in front of her ample chest.

  “Maybe using you isn’t such a good idea. I’ll think of something else.” She indicated for Riley to hand her the cleaning supplies.

  “Oh no you don’t. I’ve been lookin’ forward to this since last night. Listen. If I didn’t wanna be here you’d be over there standin’ next to that wreck of a car by yourself. But here I am, so let’s get this party started.”

  After a slight hesitation, Jonelle plastered a smile on her face, ambled back to the car, and indicated for Riley to get in the passenger seat. She passed the cleaning materials through the window to Riley.

  “Here’s what we’ll do, ladies.” She hurried on, not wanting Riley to say anything else. She addressed the cleaning lady. “If you don’t mind, please give . . . Susie—”

  “Susie? I look like a Susie?”

  “—a quick review of what you do and she can clean the rest of the area.”

  Normally Jonelle would ask the name of whomever she was dealing with, but in this case, the less she knew the better. If the cops questioned her about the cleaner, she could honestly say she didn’t know the name.

  “Aye, aye, captain,” Riley said.

  Ignoring Riley’s drone was getting easier, so Jonelle addressed the cleaning woman. “I think there might be a light-skinned black lady inside who may question why there’s somebody with you, so you can tell her she’s your assistant for today, okay?”

  “I know the lady you mean. I seen her before. She don’t look at me, so I don’t gotta say nothin’.”

  “How many other people, besides the, um, actors are inside this time of day?”

  “Depends. If they’re filmin’, two guys. One guy on camera, the other guy tellin’ the naked people what to do.”

  Riley giggled. “This could be a perk. How many naked people we talkin’ about here?”

  “Two. Sometimes three. I don’t look too much.” She crossed herself.

  “C’mon. Let’s go and get ’er done,” Riley said, between fits of laughter.

  The green sedan coughed and sputtered down the street. Jonelle’s eyes followed as the car parked next to the curb, behind the silver SUV.

  CHAPTER 36

  What’s with the damn crying all of a sudden? Fed her all her favorites. She left most of the food on the paper plate and she’s still upset.

  Got a headache last night. Haven’t had one this bad in a long time. Left my pills behind since I had to leave in a hurry. Tried reasoning with her at first. She acted like all of a sudden I was speakin’ some kinda foreign language. Every time I told her to shut up she cried louder. Could be going out on my own wasn’t such a good idea. Except . . .

  Maybe I can use all this crying. Took some pictures. Whoever invented this digital stuff had the right idea. Don’t need to worry about going into the drugstore to buy film—or get anything developed and call attention to myself.

  Told her I was gonna send everything to her mama to show her what a good little
girl she was. She got quiet for a little while after that. But she started up again.

  To keep everything on the up and up, I send a text saying everything’s fine and that I’m still followin’ the plan to keep movin’ around.

  I know everybody’s pissed off they can’t find me. Correction: Can’t find us. Ignored all the texts demanding my location. Told them it’s safer this way.

  Maybe I should get one of them burner phone thingys.

  What a hoot. Feels like I’ve been liberated. If they only knew my plans.

  Decided from now on she’s gonna have to beg for anything butterfly related. That includes games, puzzles, toys.

  If she starts whining I know of a way to stop her and not spoil the merchandise.

  CHAPTER 37

  That detective lady oughta have a tougher spine if she’s gonna make it in the business, Riley thought. Her cleaning companion hadn’t said a word since they drove off, but that didn’t surprise her. Most people gave Riley a wide berth. Probably had something to do with the do-it-yourself whack job of a haircut and the fact that she smelled as though regular baths were a thing of the past—which they were.

  And that she talked to herself on a regular basis. Luther had tried getting her to stop by saying if she didn’t folks might think she was crazy. Fact was that’s exactly what she wanted. People tended to leave a person alone that way.

  Both women left the sedan at the same time. Riley pulled out a cigarette, but before lighting it the cleaning woman said, “No. No smoke.”

  “Fine.” She put the unlit cigarette back in her pocket. “Let’s rock an’ roll.”

  Without another word, the cleaning woman knocked on a door painted a high gloss black. A small peephole was centered high in the middle. No number and no sign afforded the place the desired anonymity.

  “Hiya,” Riley said to the skinny white guy who opened the door.

  Instead of acknowledging her greeting, he looked at the cleaning woman.

  “She help out today,” the woman said.