“Hey, Miss.” Piper opened the glass doors.
“Where’ve you been? I thought detectives were supposed to look around the scene of the crime,” Fred said, her voice rising.
“Knock it off,” Grayson added. “She’s here now. We got news for you.”
The door to the manager’s office was closed.
“How long have you guys been waiting in the lobby?”
“Since I texted you,” Piper said.
She pointed to the closed door. “You guys see any signs of Mrs. Watkins?”
All three shook their heads.
She walked over and tried the door knob. Locked.
“You gonna break in?” Grayson asked.
“You want us to turn our backs so we don’t see anything? In case the police question us?” Fred added.
Jonelle sighed inwardly. What she wanted was for the trio to leave her alone to do her job, but she had nobody to blame but herself. “You said something about Maxine. Is she in her apartment?”
“She’s with my mom. That’s why we’re waiting for you. So’s you could come right up and not go anywhere else.” Piper motioned for Jonelle to follow her to the elevators.
Where the hell was Watkins?
Jonelle itched to get inside the manager’s office. She wanted to search the place for evidence of Watkins’ relationship with all three suspects as well as each one’s involvement with Playcat Productions.
Piper ran out of the elevator and knocked once on her door. It opened as Jonelle and the other two walked up.
“I was about ready to call the cops,” Mrs. Enruth said. “Maxine’s in a state, and I don’t know how to calm her. Says she’s scared and doesn’t want to go to jail.” She stepped aside for Jonelle to enter but blocked the two kids. “Oh, no. Time for you guys to go on home.”
“Shoot,” Grayson said. He opened his mouth to object but abruptly shut it when Piper’s mother made a warning noise. He shoved his hands in his pockets and left without further comment.
That left Fred. “If Piper can stay and listen, why can’t I? Not like anybody cares if I go home or not.”
“Go on home, Fred,” Mrs. Enruth said in a soft voice. “Your mom may need you. As for Piper, she’s going to her room and close the door. Right?”
The scowl on Piper’s face indicated she didn’t want to do anything of the sort, but after giving Fred a long look, turned and headed down the hall to her room.
A slight tinge of worry pulled at Jonelle about Fred. Of the three youngsters, Fred seemed the most vulnerable. However, Jonelle had no doubt that if Mrs. Enruth believed Fred was in any kind of distress, she’d take action. What she had to discuss with Maxine wasn’t fit for a twelve-year-old’s ears. “See you later, Fred.”
Fred muttered something Jonelle didn’t make out and stomped down the hall.
“Where’s Maxine?” Jonelle asked after Piper’s mother had closed the door.
“Kitchen. She’s here, Maxine.”
The elderly woman entered the living room. Gone were signs of the prickly attitude from that first encounter. In its place stood a frail old woman who looked as if she hadn’t been taking care of herself lately.
Jonelle wanted to ask Mrs. Enruth to leave but couldn’t direct the woman’s actions in her own home, so she sat on a chair while Maxine took her place next to Mrs. Enruth on the couch.
“Where’s Lark?” Jonelle asked.
“Right now? I don’t know.”
“Let’s start from the beginning. Don’t leave anything out ’cause I’ve had it up to here with being jerked around by you and just about everybody else. You’re in this mess with Watkins and maybe even Tamora.”
She ignored the small gasp from Mrs. Enruth.
“So let’s start there. Do you know who took Lark?”
Maxine picked at the hem of her cotton dress. “I think so. I mean, I know who was supposed to, but that’s not how it worked out.”
Mrs. Enruth inhaled sharply.
“What the hell does that mean?” Jonelle asked.
Maxine’s face crumpled as if she were about to cry. “It wasn’t supposed to get this serious. When Tamora left that night, I was supposed to call Lorraine so she could get inside. I called but for some reason, she didn’t answer. I kept peeking at the door. The stupid girl was only supposed to be gone for a few minutes. Five minutes tops, she said.”
Maxine sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. Mrs. Enruth handed her a tissue.
“Go on.” Jonelle pulled at her handcuff and pistol necklace.
“I kept an eye out, but Tamora didn’t come back. And Lorraine still wasn’t answering, so I got nervous. Since the door was um, open a little, I was afraid somebody else would get inside, somebody who might hurt Lark.”
“Didn’t you think that what you were doing to that child was also hurtful?”
Maxine started crying.
Shit. No way was she going to comfort the woman. “What happened next?”
“The only person I could think to call was Randy. He went inside and got Lark. Everything would’ve worked out fine if Vaughn hadn’t called the police.”
Jonelle wanted to strangle the old lady. She fought to keep her voice calm. “So, Lark’s been with Randy this whole time?”
“No. Not the whole time. He grabbed her and took her to his place. We snuck her out the back way until . . . somebody else could come get her. We had to keep moving her because you kept snooping around the place.” Maxine glared at Jonelle through wet eyes.
“Where is she now?”
The woman started wailing. “I don’t know. I honest to God don’t know. Nobody does. It’s all messed up.”
“I saw Watkins’ SUV, but her office door is locked. Do you know where she is?”
Maxine wadded up the tissues she’d already used and dumped the lot on the coffee table. Piper’s mom slid the entire box over to her. “Her car is outside?” Maxine looked frantic. “She said she was going to her mom’s place to figure out what to do next.” She grabbed Mrs. Enruth’s hand. “What am I gonna do?”
“What about Jelani and Randy? And Shawn?”
“Jelani said he’d had enough,” the elderly woman sniffed. “Said things were going off the rails. He got scared. Shawn said everything was up to his mother now.”
“His mother? Watkins is his mother?”
Maxine nodded. “Don’t know about Randy.”
“I’ll be right back,” Jonelle said. “You stay here.”
“I want this over with,” Maxine cried.
Jonelle rushed to Randy’s apartment. She knocked several times and got no response.
“He ain’t home,” said a woman opening the door of the apartment across from his.
“How long’s he been gone?” Jonelle asked.
The woman shrugged. “The last time I seen him was two, three days ago.”
“Was he alone?”
“Every time I’ve seen him he’s been alone,” she said, closing her door before Jonelle could ask any more questions.
Jonelle returned to Piper’s apartment. She entered and paced around the small living room. No matter what Maxine said, Watkins’s vehicle was here, so where was she? “Besides Jelani and Randy, who else in this building was involved?”
“Nobody. I don’t know of nobody else. But Lorraine didn’t tell me everything. When things started getting . . . difficult, I told her I didn’t want to know no more.”
Jonelle walked up to Maxine and stared down at her. “You telling me the truth?”
The elderly woman flinched and slowly nodded.
“Why do this? Why Lark? Why now?”
Maxine sipped from a bottle of water. “We figured nobody’d make too much of a stink about a missing little black girl, especially if the mother didn’t make too much noise and laid low. But the cops got involved and then you showed up.” She sniffed and glanced at Mrs. Enruth as if seeking her assistance. Piper’s mom kept her mouth firmly shut.
Max
ine sighed dramatically. “Lorraine said as long as Lark stayed hidden for a week or two, things would cool down and everything would work out okay. Jelani could take the pictures of her and Tamora together and nobody’d be the wiser. Tamora agreed to everything so what’s the harm?”
“Where was the last place you saw Lark?”
Maxine clutched her neck. “That . . . studio,” she said, each word seeming to struggle out of her mouth.
Piper’s mom stood. “Ohmigod. Are you saying they took that poor child to where they shoot those adult films? What the hell’s wrong with you, woman?”
Jonelle no longer had to worry about restraining herself from pummeling Maxine. Piper’s mom was ready to do that herself.
A loud pounding stopped Jonelle from continuing.
Mrs. Enruth rushed over to open the door.
“Hey, Miss Jonelle. You best get downstairs ’cause I just seen Miss Watkins leave the building.” The words left Fred’s mouth in a rush.
“Dammit.” Jonelle turned back to Maxine. “Where’s she going?”
“Prob’ly her mother’s house.”
“Where’s that?”
“Pennsylvania. Just across the line off of I-83 in York.”
“Address?”
Maxine looked as if she was weighing whether or not to tell Jonelle the truth.
“Don’t even try lying,” Jonelle snapped.
“Calm down, Miss Sweet,” Piper’s mother urged. “Both of us getting mad isn’t gonna help anybody. Besides, I know where Lorraine’s mother lives. She gave me her number and address—in case she had an emergency I’d know who to contact.”
Jonelle resumed pacing, aware Fred hadn’t moved from the doorway. With all the problems she had with this case, the last thing she needed was to get a minor in danger.
“Thanks for the information, Fred. You go on down to your apartment now.”
Fred squinted at Jonelle. “Aren’t you gonna go after her?”
“She’s had a head start, so no need for me to rush. C’mon, let me take you home.” Jonelle turned to escort Fred down the hall. The youngster didn’t move.
“No.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m not going home. My mom don’t know if I’m around or not. What you’re doing is a lot more interesting.”
Before Jonelle could demand the child go home, Piper’s mother called out. “You can stay here with Piper for a while.”
“I don’t want to,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
That did it.
“Go. Stay. Whatever. Listen, I don’t have children for a very specific reason. I’ve got work to do, and I’m going to do it. Without you.”
Fred’s mouth popped open but no words came out. Jonelle moved past her and hurried down the stairs. After trying the knob on Watkins’ office door once more, Jonelle rushed outside to her Jeep. Sure enough, the silver SUV was gone.
Angry at herself for not staking out the woman’s vehicle, Jonelle headed for the highway that would take her into Pennsylvania.
CHAPTER 44
The navigation system in the Jeep announced she’d arrived at the address for Watkins’ mom. She pulled in front of a gray-shingled house on a quiet corner in a neighborhood of single-family homes and parked under a regular street light, not one of those sodium orangey things. She gazed back at the dwelling and wondered what everyone behind those gray walls knew of everything that had transpired.
She didn’t see the familiar silver SUV and, for one awful moment, considered the possibility the manager hadn’t come here in the first place.
Dogs barked in the distance. While lights were on in all the nearby homes, few cars rolled down the street, and there was no foot traffic. Jonelle drove around the corner and stopped. At the back of the house, under a carport, sat the vehicle she was looking for. She parked next to the driveway. As if the occupants knew she was there, a light came on and the back door opened. She made out two figures; one stooped and the other slightly taller and rounder.
Afraid to move, fearing Watkins might recognize her Jeep, Jonelle strained to hear what the figures were saying. Based on the arms flailing about, the shaking of fingers and heads, it looked as if the two were engaged in a heated argument. Sure enough, voices grew to a level where she made out the words, “never,” “can’t believe,” “crazy,” and “help.”
Tired of waiting to see what happened next, Jonelle slipped out of her seat. Neither woman noticed. Good. While the front of the property was open, the back was enclosed by a chain link fence. Not good. A large evergreen bush hugged that side of the house. Jonelle scurried over and used the bush for cover. From this vantage point she listened to more of what they said.
“I want you to leave, right now,” said the voice of the person Jonelle didn’t know.
Watkins responded with, “I told you it’s temporary. No one’s gonna get you involved. Hell, there’s no way anyone would know. ’Less you tell them.”
“I’m too old for this. You know better. I didn’t raise you to turn out like this. No. You got to go. And take that woman with you.”
Jonelle held her breath. What woman? Tamora? The words “what about Lark?” thundered in her brain so forcefully it was as if she’d said them out loud.
“I can’t do this out here,” Watkins pleaded. “The whole neighborhood can hear.”
“Then leave. The sooner you get out the better.”
Shuffling noises followed. Jonelle risked peeking around the corner.
“Open the damn gate,” an angry-sounding Watkins demanded.
She pulled back.
Something clanked, followed by the squeal of a rusty gate opening. Footsteps followed.
She chanced another look. Tamora stood next to the opening.
Jonelle willed her not to look next to the house.
While she couldn’t see her expression, Tamora’s shoulders sagged, head bowed.
The SUV pulled out, and Tamora closed the gate and opened the passenger’s side door.
Jonelle sprang into action. “Stop,” she yelled, ran around to the driver’s side, and grabbed the handle. “Get out,” she demanded.
Watkins’ eyes bulged in surprise.
Instead of hopping into the SUV, Tamora stepped back.
“I said, get out. Now.”
Whether it was the anger in Jonelle’s voice or the lack of her passenger, Watkins slid down her window.
“What do you want?” she hissed.
Jonelle threw her head back and laughed. “Are you kidding me? ‘What do I want’? How about I yell the reason for one and all to hear on this street? I bet your mother, or whoever it was you were talking to before, wouldn’t be too happy about that.”
Tamora backed up.
“Don’t move,” Jonelle demanded.
The young woman obeyed, eyes wide with fear.
“Where’s Lark?” Jonelle asked, over the hood of the vehicle.
Tamora turned and glanced at the house.
Jonelle pulled out her weapon. “Get out,” she ordered Watkins, who only hesitated for a fraction of a second before complying. Jonelle reached inside the vehicle and removed the keys. Without saying a word to either woman, she marched up to the house through the open back gate and pounded on the back door.
The door flew open. “Who’re you?” Sharp eyes appraised Jonelle.
“Are you Lorraine Watkins’ mother?”
In response, hands knotted with arthritis grabbed both arms.
Jonelle pulled out her investigator’s license. “I’m working with a Maryland lawyer looking for Lark Phelps. All I care about is finding the little girl. What the police do to you and your daughter is not my concern. Is Lark here?”
A quick head shake.
“Do you know where she is?”
“She’s—” The woman’s mouth gaped open.
Pain erupted from the back of Jonelle’s head as bright flashes of light exploded behind her eyes. She fell to the ground before total darkn
ess consumed her.
• • •
Her head hurt. Worse, when she moved her arms they scraped against something hard and rough. She tried moving her legs. They worked but also rubbed against the coarse surface. She opened her eyes. A fuzzy bright light shot more pain into her head. She tried to sit up, but dizziness took over so she lay back down again, breathing heavily.
A voice floating from somewhere in the distance called out. Rough hands shook her shoulder. “Miss, are you woke? Miss?”
Jonelle groaned. She wanted to go back to sleep to ease the pounding in her brain.
“Miss, see if you can drink this.”
Something sharp was placed under her nose. Her hand swatted the smell away. She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly.
“Can you sit up? I can’t bend down much, so you need to sit and drink a little of this whiskey I got. Might help.”
Jonelle worked herself back up to a sitting position. “Please turn that light off for a minute,” she managed.
The darkness helped the pain somewhat. She turned her head slowly toward the voice. Watkins’ mother held out a tumbler filled with what looked like a small amount of brown liquid. She managed to grab the glass with both hands and sipped, wincing as the fire spread down her throat.
“Can you stand?”
“In a sec.” She sipped more liquor. This time the burning didn’t seem so intense.
The world began to take shape again. The hardness she sat on was the back porch, a soft blanket curled around her legs. She moved it aside, handed the cup to the woman and slowly rose to her feet.
“Careful. Don’t want you falling down. Again.”
“Me neither.” She managed to stand, though her knees were wobbly. Jonelle patted her waist. “My gun. Where’s my gun?”
“Down there. Next to the steps. I ain’t touched it, so if you want it you better pick it up yourself ’cause I don’t want nothin’ to do with those things.”
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