“I don’t want her here,” Maxine whined to Jonelle. “Make her leave me alone.” She rubbed her hand against her side.
“Nope. I’ll ask again. Did Tamora plan the kidnapping?”
She flinched when Riley got even closer. “Her and Lorraine. It was only gonna be until we could get the pictures out and then Lark was supposed to be left off at a church or somewhere for the cops to pick her up and return her to Tamora. That would prove Tamora’s innocence. But everybody started getting nervous with you sticking your nose in. And . . . they were getting way more money than me. Wasn’t fair. I took more risk than anybody.”
“What kinda pictures?” Jonelle wanted to smack her upside the head for what she put Lark through.
“Ones of Lark and Tamora. Together.”
“Naked?” Riley asked. “Lady I don’t care how old you are I feel like wringing your scrawny neck.”
“Lorraine said it’s like what you see in an art museum. Nothing dirty.”
Jonelle stood so fast, Riley jumped.
“This isn’t the first time you guys have done this. Right?”
Maxine looked down at her hands.
“But I’m guessing this is the first time you hit so close to home.” Jonelle shook her head over and over, afraid to speak for fear of losing her temper.
“Okay if I smack her now?” Riley asked.
Jonelle almost said yes. She breathed deeply. “I doubt the people who buy these pictures go to many museums. What happened?” Jonelle asked before she got sick. Let the cops determine the so-called art value of this whole mess. “Who was supposed to have her last?”
“Reggie. ’Cause that’s how it worked before. He’d park that camper thing in Walmart parking lots. Nobody’d suspect anything. One day he was at the one I shopped at so I told him I’d watch her while he went in and got some stuff. When he left, I . . . took her.”
“Why?” asked Riley, leaning forward.
At first it seemed as though Maxine wouldn’t answer. Riley nudged her.
“Too many hands in the money pot, cutting in on my share. I’m an old woman. I ain’t got a fancy pension. Things were easier when we didn’t have a personal relationship with . . . the others. But Lorraine said this way was easier. Tamora already had a following, so involving Lark should be easy. All we had to do was wait until things blew over. People would lose interest in trying to find a black child. Didn’t figure on you.”
“You went back to your apartment?” Jonelle asked, her eyes warning Riley to keep quiet.
“For a little while. Sometimes. To pick up some things. I heard about this place so when the coast was clear, we left.”
“What about Lorraine?”
Maxine shrugged. “She went to Pennsylvania and tried to get her mother to take Lark, figuring nobody would look for the child there. But her mother wasn’t having it and Tamora started getting tired of the whole thing.”
“Where’s Tamora now?”
A loud banging on the front door startled everybody in the tight, overly warm room. Jonelle ran to answer it.
Langford wore a loud, Hawaiian print shirt under a navy, wrinkled sport coat.
“Where’s the kid?” he asked.
Jonelle led him to the kitchen. A subdued Lark munched on a chocolate chip cookie. Wanda and Langford eyed each other. Instead of introducing them, Jonelle said, “Maxine’s in the common room with Riley.”
“Who’s Riley?”
Good question, Jonelle thought.
“She, um, helped me out a few times. Anyway, let’s step in the hall for a minute.” She ignored the constriction blossoming in her chest. “Maxine says she took Lark and Tamora knew everything. Not only about the abduction, but the whole sordid plan.”
Langford groaned.
“Thing is there are so many people involved at all different stages. What I know is when Reggie parked the camper at the Walmart the last time—”
“Walmart?”
“Yeah. The one near Westminster. Anyway, Maxine offered to watch Lark while he went shopping but decided to swipe her instead. Took her back to the apartment for a little while then brought her here. I’ve got a feeling Maxine’ll finger everybody to save her butt.”
“Where’s Tamora?”
Jonelle shook her head. “No idea, but Maxine insists Tamora was involved from start to—well at least up to the point Maxine decided to go rogue.”
Langford took a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his forehead. “Go on.”
“Met Reggie once. I have his name and the company he used to work for, plus I took down the RV’s tag, so he might not be hard to find. He does have another vehicle, but I didn’t pay attention to the make or model, so not much help there. Sorry.”
“Hell. You’ve got the kid. That’s pretty damn good in my book. She seems okay, what little I saw.”
“She’s fine. For now, anyway. That’s why I’d like to call her father.”
“Sounds reasonable to me, but I’ve gotta call the cops first.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m calling a friend of mine with the police. She’s one of the best they have in dealing with kids.”
Jonelle was shaking her head before he finished. “She should be with her daddy.”
“He can accompany them down to the station, but we’ve got to make sure Lark wasn’t physically harmed in any way.”
Jonelle cringed at the word “physically.”
While Langford called the cops, Jonelle rang Hanson. She cut off his questions by telling him he should get to the address as fast as possible and somebody’d fill him in later.
Jonelle approached Langford. She wanted to talk outside but didn’t trust putting too much distance between herself and Lark.
“Going back to what we talked about. Gimme the names of everybody you know who’s involved,” he said.
“In addition to Tamora, Reggie, Maxine and Lorraine Watkins, there’s Shawn Mowerby—Lorraine’s son—Randy and Jelani. Oh, and Mary Burroughs in York, Pennsylvania is Watkins’ mother. She has information too.”
Langford swore under his breath. “This Watkins. She the ringleader?”
“Not so much that as coordinator. In this case, anyway. There’s a lot more to unravel, but the cops need to do that. As far as Lark’s abduction, Watkins couldn’t control this many people. Why the hell she thought she could is beyond me,” Jonelle said.
“Lucky for us she did,” Lanford said. “’Course one of them’s my client, so that sucks.” He wiped his head again.
Langford stared at the open door where Maxine sat confined by Riley. “You know, it’s not a problem with me if you wanna go on in there and ask Maxine a few questions before the cops get here.”
“Uh. Already did that.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“She was willing to talk.”
He considered Jonelle for several seconds, a slight smile on his face. “Doesn’t surprise me.” The grin morphed into a scowl. “This business about taking still photos of her child, completely naked or not, with and without the mother, is something that’s not gonna help Tamora one bit, no matter if she thought that she could protect Lark from . . . whatever. Damn, I need a smoke.”
He pulled a pack from his jacket pocket. Then stuffed it back in again. “So. How’d Maxine and Lark wind up here?”
“She knew about this place and offered to babysit the kids here while the mothers went to work. All she wanted in payment was the okay to take a few pictures. I’m pretty sure Wanda didn’t know anything about what Maxine had in mind.”
“And you know this, how?”
“A source.”
“Damn.” He pulled out the cigarettes again.
Emergency whoop-whoops signaled the arrival of the police.
Jonelle inhaled deeply. “Here goes.”
Langford went to open the door. Behind two uniformed police officers strode an agitated Vaughn Hanson, followed closely by his fiancée Cheryl. One of the officers tried to hold them back.
&
nbsp; “Excuse me,” Jonelle said, “that’s the child’s father.”
A vein in Vaughn’s head pulsed, and his eyes shot daggers at the cop who tried to prevent him from entering the building. He yelled at the cop to get out of his way.
“Vaughn,” Jonelle shouted. “Mr. Hanson, please calm down. Lark is okay. Come over here for a minute. Cheryl, I think it might help if you stayed outside. Please.”
After a slight pause, Cheryl nodded and walked back out.
The young cop, pale and with acne eruptions on his face, visibly relaxed.
Jonelle led Vaughn over to the common room.
“What’s she doing here?” he asked, pointing to Maxine. “And who’s that?”
“Hiya,” Riley said.
“It’s complicated,” Jonelle said. “Someone will explain everything to you in great detail, but for right now, the cops are gonna need to talk to Maxine first.”
The elderly woman made a sound resembling a trapped rat at the mention of her name. She turned her head to avoid looking at Vaughn.
“The lawyer said I could see Lark,” he said. “Where is she?”
“In the kitchen. I know her being so close and you not able to hold her is the worst part, but right now everyone’s focus is making sure Lark’s okay after her . . . ordeal.”
Langford motioned for a blond policewoman to go down the hall.
Hanson made to follow, but Jonelle held him back. “Not yet,” she said.
“Where’s Tamora? She know what’s going on?” Hanson asked.
“I’d rather her lawyer fill you in,” Jonelle replied.
After what seemed ages, but was probably only a few minutes, the policewoman came back carrying Lark who sucked hard on her thumb. When she saw her father the thumb plopped out and she grinned from ear to ear.
“Daddy! It’s my daddy,” she said to the policewoman. “I gotta go.” Lark wriggled out of the officer’s arms and ran to her father who lifted her up and held on so tight, that for a moment Jonelle wondered if the little one could breathe.
The lead detective who’d arrived after the uniforms, spoke briefly to Langford in the hall, and motioned everyone into the common area.
Wanda approached the detective. “Officer, sir. I don’t know nothin’—”
“Get to you in a minute, ma’am.”
He nodded for Jonelle to take a seat. He had the eyes of someone who’d seen too much and wanted to work his last days before retirement with as little excitement as possible.
Too late, Jonelle thought.
“So,” he said. “How’d you know the little girl was here?” He stared at a spot behind her with such intensity that it made her think the answer was written on the wall.
She decided to give him the CliffsNotes version and let Langford fill in the details. “I didn’t. I, um, got a tip that an older woman and a child were staying here. Maxine lived across the hall from where Lark was abducted. Lorraine Watkins is the property manager and I believe that she and Maxine, along with several other people know who took Lark away, and how.” She pointed to Maxine. “That one knows everything.”
“What’s your interest?” he asked.
“Mr. Langford, Tamora Phelps’ attorney”—she motioned to Lanford, casually leaning against the wall—“hired me to assist in the case.” The detective’s eyebrows shot up. Finally a response, Jonelle thought. At least now he’s interested.
“And you’re saying you don’t know where the mother’s at now. That right?”
“No idea.”
“Bet this one here knows,” Riley said, again poking Maxine in the ribs.
“Hey,” Maxine shouted. “Stop that. Somebody get her away from me.”
The detective settled his gaze on Riley. “And you are . . . ?”
“A concerned citizen,” Riley said, staring hard at the detective until he looked away.
Jonelle jumped in before the detective’s attention shifted back to Riley. “She heard about a tip that led us to this place. Not sure how long it would’ve taken to find Lark without her help.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, not at all convinced. “You look familiar,” he said, turning to Jonelle. “Have we met before?”
Riley grunted.
They both ignored her.
“I’ve worked with the police in the past,” Jonelle said. “Do you know a detective Burton? Thelonius Burton?”
One corner of his mouth turned up in what could’ve been the trace of a smile. “You know Burt? He and I used to ride patrol way back in the day.”
Good ole Burt. She’d have to tell him that once again his name was an ice breaker. “Yes. He’s a personal friend.”
The detective’s tone went from accusatory to almost friendly. “Tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out.”
Langford interjected before Jonelle could comply. “Are you asking her for a formal statement?”
The frown returned. “Nothing official, counselor. Call it a conversation. I want to know what I’m dealing with here.”
Langford raised his hand in a stop gesture. “Tell you what, detective. We’ve got the child with her father. She seems okay and happy. Plus, you’ve got the lady who brought her here—you can ask her whatever you want. After she and I talk, Ms. Sweet will be happy to come down to the station later to make a formal statement. That okay with everybody?”
The adrenaline rush that coursed through her earlier quickly evaporated. “Fine with me,” Jonelle said.
Before the detective could reply, Langford’s phone rang. “Gotta take this. Don’t say anything until I get back,” he said.
“Lawyers,” the detective grumbled.
No one said a word while Langford talked on the phone. His face looked ashen when he came back.
“What’s wrong?” Jonelle asked.
“Got a call from Mercy Medical Center. Tamora’s in the emergency room.”
CHAPTER 53
Jonelle stared long and hard at Langford. “What happened?” she asked. Before he could respond, she added, “And why call you? Seems like she’d call her sister.”
“I don’t know the answer to any of those questions. Yet. Gotta get to the hospital.” He made to go past her but she stepped in his way.
“What?” he asked.
“Do I need to demand to see her? To see for myself what happened?”
“I can fill you in later.”
“Nope,” she said, still blocking his path.
He sighed. “Fine.”
Hanson declined Langford’s offer to meet at the hospital, wanting only to take his daughter home. Once Jonelle and Langford vouched for Hanson, he left with Lark clinging tightly to his neck. Jonelle smiled. “I’d like to see someone try to take her away from him.”
A quick check of the common room found the detective questioning an agitated Maxine.
One person remained for Jonelle to deal with: Riley.
Left sitting on the sofa, Riley didn’t utter a sound while the cops sorted everything out. Every now and then Jonelle caught her running rough hands up and down her arms, as if she was freezing and needed to warm up.
Once, Jonelle caught Riley picking at the skin on her arms and face. Riley stopped, embarrassed. For a brief moment the woman’s face softened, then almost immediately hardened up again. Her mouth formed a tight line as if waiting for an argument, an accusation, a criticism.
“I need to take you back to the warehouse,” Jonelle said, striding over to the sofa. “Tamora’s at the ER and her lawyer’s letting me see her. You ready? Or do you wanna be dropped off somewhere else?”
“What if I said I ain’t leavin’?” She crossed her legs and swung the top one up and down.
Jonelle sighed. She was too damn hot and tired to argue. “That’s up to you. But I’m going. So you can stay here as long as you want and help Wanda sort all this out with the cops, or you can walk to . . . wherever. Up to you.”
Riley turned away from Jonelle.
“Listen. You’ve been a great help. R
eally. And I appreciate it. I can arrange some type of compensation if you—”
She swung back around. “Compensation? That what you think I want, detective lady?” Riley’s leg swung faster and faster. Her fingers dug into her forearms.
“Fine. What do you want?”
“Gave you a bigass hint on the way over here. You don’t remember, that’s on you. I can find my own way back.” With that, she bolted from the sofa and stomped out the front door.
“Hey!” One of the cops called out.
“Let her go,” Langford said. “We know how to find her if you need to ask more questions.” His eyebrows shot up at Jonelle. “Right?”
“Yeah,” she said. A couple minutes earlier, she was pumped up, ready for anything. Now her entire body felt as if someone pulled the plug on her soul. She knew what Riley wanted. She also didn’t want to pay that price.
For the past several days she’d broken her promise to her uncle not to neglect her duties at the agency, got kids involved and hooked up with a homeless woman who couldn’t stand her—and the feeling was mutual—all because she went further than Langford had asked her to go. Worse, she didn’t miss going to the agency.
At the ER the doctors made Langford and Jonelle wait until positive Tamora remained stabilized. A uniformed police officer stood outside the examination room.
For a while neither Langford nor Jonelle spoke. She broke the silence first. “Guess I owe you a complete report. Sorry I didn’t check in as much as you wanted, but when things got going, I didn’t want to break the momentum.”
“Yeah. I thought so. Also figured you went above and beyond the initial request to verify her alibi. That right?”
She leaned against the cool wall in the ER and closed her eyes, trying not to inhale too much sickness and antiseptic smell. She struggled to form the correct words to say to try and make him understand her obsession with finding out what happened to an innocent four-year-old. When she opened them again the lawyer still stared at her, but the worry lines had faded.
“I knew the alibi was a lie when I talked to Reggie at the convenience store. It didn’t matter to me if the surveillance video was off or not. I wanted to know what really happened.”
Instead of angry words aimed at her, the lawyer chuckled. “Can’t say I didn’t get my money’s worth, but now I’ve gotta think of a new way to defend her. That is, if she wants me to. Don’t mean to sound crass, but its people like Tamora Phelps doing stupid shit that ensure folks like me have job security. I thank God that little girl is safe. This could’ve turned out a whole lot worse.”
Five Minutes Page 28
