She pulled up next to the curb of the large building, its concrete façade glowing pale orange under the streetlights. The rusting chain link fence had the same large gap she remembered from last year. Of course it was the same. Who was going to complain that lights weren’t fixed and trash needed picking up? And what would be the point? Jonelle turned off the engine. Now that she was here, she hesitated about going inside. A quick glance all around through the vehicle’s windows caught furtive movement behind and to her right. A human form stopped. The shadow turned toward her. As Jonelle considered whether or not to call out, the shape scurried through the fence and disappeared.
Jonelle knew what lay beyond the opening. She grasped her backpack and felt around inside. Her hand closed around cool, smooth metal. She left her Jeep and stood close to the door. She removed her pistol, placed it inside the holster she had brought with her and strapped the weapon around her waist. She shrugged into her pale blue denim jacket, which concealed the gun from view. The last thing she wanted was to upset anyone inside. Next, Jonelle removed the flashlight. She clicked it on and off and on again. Satisfied the beam was powerful enough for what she needed to do, Jonelle strode up to the fence.
“Here goes,” she muttered. Jonelle slipped inside and played the light against the outside walls. She aimed the beam in front of her and followed it to the left side of the building. After skirting around three rusted cars sans wheels, Jonelle moved over to where the large opening to the structure allowed access inside and entered. A faint yellow light shone in the darkness.
“Hello,” she called out. “I’m a friend of Luther. Is there anyone called Chester in here?”
Jonelle sniffed the air. The pungent odor of something burning filled the space. She touched her weapon for reassurance, dragged her feet through the trash strewn all around the floor and aimed for the glow in the distance. A slight rustling noise brought her up short. She pointed the flashlight over to the right and detected movement in the corner. She shuddered. “Damn rats,” she mumbled under her breath. Jonelle forced herself to breathe as deeply as possible to stave off the tightness she knew would grab at her chest.
Shapes hovered near an open flame. The murmur of voices floated over to her and she stopped. “My name’s Jonelle Sweet,” she called out to the shadows. “Luther helped me on a case last year, so I’ve come here to return the favor.”
“You that PI lady Luther tole us about?”
Jonelle jumped at the disembodied voice that came out of the darkness behind her. “Jeeze. Give a girl a heart attack why don’t you.” Soft laughter bounced off the walls. A figure drifted out from the gloom.
“Chester?” Jonelle asked. She trained her flashlight on the image. The figure that faced her was that of a very thin, dark-skinned black man.
“Naw,” the man said. “Chester ain’t here right now.”
Jonelle’s heart sank. “Do you know when he’ll be back? Luther wants me to find him.”
“Firs’ you gotta git that damn light outta my eyes,” he said.
“Sorry.” Jonelle lowered the beam.
“Tha’s better. Tell me what you know ‘bout Luther. Then, if I thinks you’re on the up ‘n up, I’ll let you know ‘bout Chester.”
As a visitor to his world, Jonelle was in a no BS zone. The hairs standing up on her arms told her there were many more eyes and ears trained on her than she could actually see.
Jonelle took a deep breath and recounted her first meeting with Luther last year. “I’m sure you remember what happened if you were around. Luther took care of someone and kept her safe until I found her.” Now, she explained, she planned to help him fight whatever charges the cops filed against him for the murder of the woman found behind the Dumpster. “I’ve already got a lawyer for him lined up,” Jonelle said. “Someone who’ll represent him at no charge.”
The man never took his eyes off Jonelle the entire time she talked. “How you know ole Luth didn’t do it?” he asked, after she’d finished.
“He’s not that kind of person. Luther helps people … he doesn’t hurt them.” What made her so sure about that? To her own ears she sounded like a bad cable television movie. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“Ever’body calls me TJ,” he said.
She nodded. “Now, about Chester … ”
TJ shrugged. “I tole you, he ain’t here. Right before they pinched Luther, he, uh got into some trouble and disappeared. Don’t know when, or if, he’s comin’ back.”
“You could’ve told me that in the first place,” she said evenly. “Would’ve saved us some time.”
“Time is the only thing I got plenty of lady.” TJ walked a few steps closer to Jonelle. She held her ground. They stood eye to eye for several seconds, with Jonelle taking quick breaths to keep from inhaling too much of TJ’s rank body odor.
After a few moments, he laughed. Sour breath blew in her face. As she was about to move away from the smell, TJ stepped back. He shook his head over and over. “Luther said you was somethin’ else.”
“About Chester,” Jonelle said again, emphasizing the name. She looked around. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light well enough for her to make out several shapes milling about. The fire that caught her attention earlier still flared from a barrel in the distance. She realized that even in this place, there was some sort of hierarchy; that’s how they protected themselves and survived.
She turned back to TJ. His eyes still studied her.
“Rumor has it Chester is hidin’ out in one ‘a the shelters,” he said.
Finally. “Which one?”
TJ snickered again. “Hell. If I was to tell you that, then he wouldn’t be hidin’ no more, now would he?”
That did it. She’d had enough. “Which part of me wanting to help Luther do you not get?” she asked, raising her voice. “Obviously you think this is some kind of damn game. Well, it’s not. Luther sitting in a jail cell while we play twenty questions is not funny.” She pointed a finger at TJ. “You gonna be straight with me or not?”
Jonelle got the satisfaction of watching TJ back away from her as she unleashed those last words.
TJ glanced nervously around him. Jonelle wondered if with both Luther and Chester gone, he was next in line as head of the group. Her yelling wasn’t helping him keep that status, but she had about one nerve left and his crappy attitude was stepping all over it.
He cleared his throat and cocked his head for her to follow. He led her to a spot against one of several thick columns that ran down the center of the immense room.
“Here’s the thing,” he said, voice low. “A few days before they found the body, Chester stopped showin’ up so we figured he found someplace else to crash. The day the cops took Luther away, I came back jus’ before dark an’ found Chester limpin’ from up on the corner. He was bleedin’ real bad. Said some Mex’cans beat him an’ he needed to lay low for a while. So, I helped him clean up an’ then he left. Some ‘a the shelters got medicine, so he prob’ly went to one ‘a those.” He shrugged. “I don’t know which one.”
“Did he have any idea why they beat him? Did it have anything to do with the dead woman?”
TJ eased down to the ground, his back against the column. He reached in his shirt pocket and retrieved a pack of cigarettes and plastic lighter. He held the pack out to her. She shook her head. Jonelle rearranged her backpack and sat down next to him, the flashlight next to her hip. He lit a cigarette. After two deep pulls of smoke assaulted his lungs, TJ looked off in the distance.
“It could’a been just some shitheads lookin’ to roll a bum,” he said.
“You don’t believe that, do you?”
TJ paused. He shook his head. “Naw. They only beat him around his head. It looked worse than it was. Those assholes usually like to try an cripple us up some. They think it’s funnier that way.” He snorted and puffed some more. Jonelle waited for him to continue. “Those idiots was lookin’ to send him a message. An’ before you ask, no, I got no idea
what the message was.” He looked at her. “But I guess the message was received ‘cause he ain’t here.”
The attitude TJ displayed earlier had disappeared. “Okay,” she said. “I know a few of the shelters around here so that’s where I’ll start.” She struggled to stand up. TJ hopped up to help her. “Thanks. Sorry if I went a little too far before,” she said, brushing dust off her pants.
“Most other people would’a run outta here fast as they could,” he said, grinning. “Not you. You one hard-headed woman.”
Jonelle took that as a compliment. “What’s Chester’s last name?”
“Lady don’t nobody got last names around here.”
She turned to go, then stopped. “Just one more thing.”
TJ groaned. “You’s wearin’ out your welcome, Columbo.”
“What about the dead woman? Do you think the attack on Chester had anything to do with her?”
TJ looked around him. “We was talkin’ ‘bout that before. Things was fine before she showed up. Once she got here and hooked up with Luther, weird shit started happenin’. We kept tellin’ Luther, leave that white woman alone. There’s somethin’ wrong with her. Susanna ain’t no good.”
Jonelle couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “You know her name? Wait a minute. You mean she was a regular around here and she and Luther were close?”
TJ nodded.
CHAPTER 5
After TJ’s revelations and an uneventful night of surveillance, Jonelle drove home exhausted and in desperate need of a bathroom. Per the contract, Jonelle was due back at the Cole place at the same time that evening.
Once inside her condo she dragged herself to the bathroom and took a shower. Afterward Jonelle wrapped herself in her long cotton robe, lay down and drifted off to sleep. The insistent buzz of her alarm clock woke her at noon. Surprised at having slept so well during the day, Jonelle dressed in tan slacks and white pullover. She searched for and found an old bag she’d wanted to give to the thrift store. She put the bag on the bed and went back to the closet where some of her late husband’s clothes still remained.
After removing four pairs of pants, Jonelle put them all back. Somehow she didn’t think Luther would want to wear expensive clothes. She dug through the items on one of the bottom shelves and came up with three pairs of jeans. Each pair was steam pressed, the result of Del sending them to the cleaners over Jonelle’s objections. “Nobody takes their jeans to the cleaners,” she’d argued. After a few moments of stroking the fabric, she folded the jeans and placed them in the duffle. Next, she found five cotton polo shirts, two long sleeved shirts and an old down vest and stuffed those in as well. The last items she added were several pairs of socks. Jonelle zipped the bag and stared down at it, shaking her head. No doubt about it. Luther was gonna be the city’s best dressed homeless guy.
Jonelle thought about calling Burt to give the detective a heads-up that she had a name for his victim. Instead, she’d called the law firm representing Luther and was told his release was imminent, so she decided to drop by the courthouse. Whether or not she’d tell Burt about the closeness between Luther and Susanna as implied by TJ, Jonelle wasn’t sure.
She parked her Jeep in one of the courthouse’s visitor spaces and left the duffle bag on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Among all the people coming down the courthouse steps was one of the lawyers from the firm that agreed to help Luther’s defense. Disappointed they had assigned one of their youngest associates, Jonelle waved to get his attention.
“Hey, it’s me Jonelle Sweet from Shorter Investigative Services. I called you guys about representing Luther.”
He stopped and waited for her on the bottom step.
“Sorry I don’t remember your name. So, how’d it go?” she asked.
He shrugged.
Up close he looked even younger than she remembered. She wondered how many years it’d been since he graduated law school.
With his head, he motioned for her to follow around back to the parking lot. He said nothing until he stopped at a red Fiat. “Name’s Brian Muir,” he said opening the driver’s side door and throwing his briefcase in the back. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Would you like the good first?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“He’s lucky we got a sympathetic judge. I got her to release him without bail because right now the police don’t have much to hold him on. He’s a material witness to the crime’s aftermath, and I got the feeling even the police don’t think he killed that young woman. He stayed at the scene, had no weapon and no blood on his clothes.” He peered at Jonelle through hazel eyes. “The bad news is he’s a belligerent sonofabitch who won’t help himself one bit unless he gets an attitude change. And quick.”
Jonelle sighed. “I was afraid of that. Thing is, what you’re seeing is mostly fear, not anger. I’ll see what I can do about getting him to tone it down when I see him.” Jonelle played with her necklace. “This might sound strange coming from me, but I don’t know Luther’s real last name. I only know him as Luther St. Vincent, but I suspect that last name came from a poster he saw on the wall of the warehouse where he stays at night.”
Brian laughed and eased into the driver’s seat. “After we got your call, I contacted detective Burton. He told me Luther had calmed down enough so they took the cuffs off and said I could see him. When we first met he tried telling me his name was Luther Vandross. Guess he figured a young white guy wouldn’t know who the singer was. Thing is, I was a huge fan. Still am. Anyway, not only did they find a match on his prints, taken when he was picked up for loitering two years ago, they also found ID in his belongings when they did a thorough search.”
Jonelle stared. “ID? He had ID all this time? Jeeze, Louise.”
He nodded. “A lot of the shelters won’t let them stay unless they have some form of identification. His real name is Luther Dukes.” Brian started the car. “Sorry, but I have another appointment. I got him released so he’s probably on his way out.”
Jonelle stepped away from the car. “Thanks for all the info.”
Ticked off that Luther kept his true name a secret from her, Jonelle rushed to the side entrance of the courthouse, looking for him in the group of smiling faces exiting the building. She found him holding tight to a paper bag, cleaner and much calmer.
“Hey, Luther,” Jonelle called out. He stopped and turned, his eyes squinting in the glare of the afternoon sun. “Hold on a sec. I need to talk to you.”
“Guess you expect me to thank you for what you done for me. Well, okay then, thanks.” He gripped his bag tighter and didn’t meet her eyes.
“You okay?”
He shrugged.
Jonelle tried a different tactic. “Sorry about Susanna. I’m going to see Burt, detective Burton that is, and let him know what I found out about her.”
Luther’s eyes opened wide. “What did Chester tell you? I tole him to wait for me before he gave out anything ‘bout her. I promised her I’d keep her secret for as long as I could.”
“What secret?”
Luther shook his head and clamped his mouth shut. Jonelle waited. When it appeared as though Luther wasn’t going to say anything else, she motioned to him.
“Follow me. My Jeep’s over here. I have something for you, and I need to tell you about Chester.” Jonelle turned and started walking back to where her vehicle was parked.
“What you mean? What’s that you say ’bout Chester?” He asked those questions behind her back. She picked up his footfalls limping along the sidewalk in an attempt to keep up with her. Jonelle wasn’t about to let Luther dictate things now that she’d gotten herself involved. He’d just have to wait until she decided to reveal what she knew. She stopped at the passenger’s side door and disengaged the lock.
“I’ve got some things for you that I’d been keeping after my husband died. If you want them, they’re yours. If you don’t, well maybe one of your friends could use them.” She reached inside, removed the duffel bag and
held it out to him.
He took the bag from her and without looking inside, opened his mouth to speak. Jonelle rushed on before he had the chance.
“Hop in and I’ll give you a lift to where you want to go,” she said. “That’s the only way you’re gonna find out what I know.” She left the passenger door open and took her time going around to the driver’s side. She stared at him over the hood, her eyes questioning.
He slowly nodded his head.
“Good. Put your things in the back.”
Luther did as he was told without comment. Jonelle got perverse pleasure in the man’s silence. For once there were no wise-ass remarks.
Once inside the Jeep, now that she had Luther where she wanted him, Jonelle wasn’t sure what to do. She glanced at the clock on the dash. Almost one o’clock. “Hungry? There are several places where we can get something to eat. Anything in particular you’d like?”
“Yeah, how about a thick steak, baked potato an’ a bottle ’a wine.”
To help hold her anger in check, Jonelle mentally counted to ten. When she reached ‘seven’ Luther spoke.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
She turned and glared at him. “You just made it,” she said.
Jonelle drove for about ten minutes without saying a word. A fast food place appeared on the right side and she pulled around to the drive through. She placed an order for a ten piece bucket of grilled chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy and large green beans and coleslaw, plus biscuits and two iced teas. She asked for paper plates, eating utensils and napkins. After she paid for everything, Jonelle pulled over and parked. A few plastic tables and chairs ringed the small structure. Jonelle walked over with her bags to one of the tables. Luther got out of the Jeep and followed.
Without her words to give him something to use against her, he stayed silent. She waited until his mouth was full of chicken and potatoes before she told him the information TJ divulged about Chester. His eyes narrowed when she recounted the attack, but he remained silent.
The Trickster (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 3) Page 3
