Jonelle dialed Sophia’s cellphone and hotel, and once again no answer. Jonelle stressed the importance that Sophia call back soon and indicating she’d also left a message for Sarah Quinley. That should push the elusive Sophia to check in.
Her mind felt crowded with information from both Luther and Burt, so she forced herself to concentrate on routine paper work. At five o’clock, too antsy to sit around and tired of waiting for the phone to ring, Jonelle grabbed her stuff and rushed down the hall.
“See you Monday, hon,” Rainey said, straightening up her desk.
“Goodnight. Have a nice weekend.” Jonelle didn’t feel like going home. Even with the late hour and on a Friday, another chat with Dr. Kelly seemed in order. That is, if he was still in the office.
Jonelle drove to the Washington suburbs, parked in the Red Line Metro station lot and boarded a train headed in the direction of Farragut West. She hated riding the subway during rush hour and especially on Fridays. She spent the thirty-minute ride contemplating what she’d say to Kelly about the tattoos. She’d ask about any unusual marks on Susanna’s body and let him tell her what ink was on his ex-wife’s person.
Jonelle pushed through the throng of people on K Street and entered Kelly’s building. She hoped someone was still there. As she walked down the hall to his practice, Jonelle no longer cared what anyone thought about her being there. She opened the glass double-doors. The same receptionist with the bright, red smile greeted her, although the smile didn’t seem as sparkling as before.
“I’m sorry, but the office is closed now.” The young woman stood behind the desk, bag hanging from her shoulder. Jonelle admired the way the receptionist hid her displeasure at having to deal with someone when it was obvious she couldn’t wait to leave. A quick glance revealed an empty waiting area.
“Are you here to set up another appointment?”
Jonelle nodded. “I forgot to ask Dr. Kelly something. Since I was in the area, I thought I’d stop by to see if I could ask him a quick question. It shouldn’t take more than five minutes or so.”
Lines between her eyes marred the woman’s perfectly made-up face. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Doctor Kelly left earlier and I’m afraid he won’t be back until Tuesday. If you’d like, I can check his calendar for the next available opening.” Brown eyes looked questioningly at Jonelle.
“I really don’t need to tie up more of his time than necessary. I’m doing inquiries for his sister-in-law about the … uh … situation with his ex-wife.” Jonelle turned sideways and leaned on the desk. “Would it be possible for you to give me his cellphone number?” Before Jonelle could complete the question, the young woman was already shaking her head.
“No, I’m afraid not. What I can do is ask him to call you if he checks in. But I doubt that will happen. He had to leave rather suddenly and advised us that should there be an emergency with one of his patients, I was to refer them to one of the other doctors.”
That wasn’t what Jonelle wanted to hear. Even though he already had them, she left her cellphone and office phone numbers with the suggestion that it didn’t matter when Kelly called, she needed to verify some information. The bright smile appeared again and Jonelle wondered if there was some kind of class these people attended to get that look.
Instead of heading for the elevators, she slipped down the hall and around the corner, which gave her full view of Kelly’s practice. A few moments later, the receptionist walked down the hall and boarded the elevator. Jonelle stood where she was, occasionally looking at her phone whenever office workers glanced her way. After approximately five minutes when no one else left the practice, she went back.
Jonelle couldn’t shake the feeling that Kelly’s absence and Sophia’s disappearance were connected. Even though Kelly insisted he hadn’t seen his ex-sister-in-law, Jonelle didn’t believe him.
Since most high-end businesses depended on custodial services to clean the offices, the glass doors to the reception area weren’t locked. Jonelle tiptoed inside and slipped down the corridor in the direction of Kelly’s private office. She listened for any noise coming from the other closed doors and heard nothing. A quick turn of the knob provided access inside.
Jonelle rushed over to the file cabinets and tried the first drawer. Locked. Damn. No wonder he didn’t mind not securing his door. To settle any questions in her mind, Jonelle tried each one and got the same result. She felt around inside her handbag for the small lock picking case. A few clicks later the file cabinet opened.
She flipped through folders of patient names. Nothing looked even remotely related to his relationship with Susanna. She closed and relocked the cabinet. Disappointed, her eyes settled on his desk drawers. All five were locked. A few minutes later, she’d picked three locks: one in the middle and one on either side.
Situated in the center of the middle drawer, a black leather-bound book with “Day Planner” embossed in gold took up most of the space. She flipped through it. Most entries for the month held names and times and none mentioned Sophia or Susanna. However, a notation in the margin for today mentioned “Norm arrives.” Interesting. In the back of the book were sections for notes and names, addresses and telephone numbers. Jonelle sat and slowly thumbed through each page, searching for … she wasn’t sure what. She stopped at the entry for Norman Finkleberg, took out her notebook and wrote his home address and telephone number.
A few more pages and Sophia’s name popped up with an address and telephone number, which Jonelle also noted. She’d compare both to the information Sophia had given her that first day. She didn’t find anything on the hotel where Sophia was staying. Jonelle closed the book and placed it back in its original location. A few pens, sticky notepads, stapler and paperclips were the only other items.
She moved on to the side drawers. Brochures, pamphlets, a small tape recorder and spiral bound notebooks took up most of the space in each one. A glance in the last drawer on the right divulged only one article: a large manila envelope. Blank on the outside and after turning it over, discovered it was sealed. She held the envelope up to the light but couldn’t read the contents.
With the envelope tucked under her arm, Jonelle put her ear to the door and, hearing nothing, stepped into the narrow hall. She noted the names of the other two doctors; the third door didn’t have a name. She opened it and a motion sensor light illuminated the area.
A copier stood in the center of the room. Open, gray metal shelves hugged the walls from the floor to approximately six feet high. As she expected, similar manila envelopes overflowed from a box on one of the shelves. She tore open the one from Kelly’s office and glanced at four pages. One was a copy of a rental car agreement; a handwritten entry on the bottom indicated another invoice was coming. The name on the signature line was illegible. So, why was the document in Kelly’s possession? Two other pages contained hotel information with the words “pay now!” written at the bottom.
Jonelle’s hands shook with excitement. One hotel was the Lancelot and the other was a hotel she hadn’t heard of, but was also on Baltimore’s west side. The fourth document held an itinerary with the departing location in Oldenberry, Michigan and the arrival in Baltimore. Jonelle frowned at the copier, trying to figure out the machine. When she placed the first document on the glass and pushed a button, a red light came on, reminding her to input her code. “Dammit!”
She grabbed the sheet off the copier and swiped a clean envelope from the shelf, peered up and down the hall just to be sure and closed the door behind her. A sense of urgency gripped her as she navigated her way back to his office.
Her first thought was Sophia had rented a car and given the invoices to Kelly. But the signature wasn’t familiar. And why want Kelly to pay? Jonelle frowned at the hotel invoice. The name printed at the top was not the one where Sophia was staying. Another note, this one attached by a paperclip also stated “pay now!”
A sigh of frustration escaped Jonelle. Instead of getting closer to figuring out the mystery of Susann
a living on the street, the answer was slipping away. She picked up the last piece of paper again and scrutinized it more closely. At the bottom of the itinerary someone typed “Women’s Huron Valley Correctional Facility” the name of the women’s facility where Rosemary Wilkins was incarcerated. She flipped the paper over. Nothing else was typed and there were no handwritten notes. She grabbed her phone, held it as close as she could and snapped multiple shots of all the pages.
Jonelle replaced the contents in order in the new envelope, sealed and placed it back in the drawer. She used the same tools to secure the locks and tried the drawer handles to make sure. Rather than deposit the torn envelope in the trash she shoved it in her bag.
After everything was put back the way it was, Jonelle headed for the door. She came to an abrupt stop when she heard voices.
Frantic, she searched for a place to hide. Her eyes settled on the back door used for patients to leave without being seen. She headed for it. The voices got louder. She opened the door, slipped through and careful not to close it all the way, slid into the narrow hallway. With her heart pounding hard, Jonelle put her ear against the crack in the door and listened.
Kelly’s door clicked open. Unable to make out all the words, it sounded as though one was male, the other female. Jonelle held her breath. Someone rattled what sounded like the file cabinet. That was followed by a loud “Damn” and hushed whispers.
Another series of rattles later Jonelle heard the female say, “Just open the damn thing,” followed by “it’s not under there.” Several loud bangs later the woman said, “finally.”
Jonelle turned her head and peeked through the crack. A blond woman, her back to Jonelle, lifted the envelope from the desk drawer. All she saw of the man was his arm. The actions told her two things: one, the male wasn’t Kelly since he’d have his own key, and two, they found what they were looking for. The woman passed the envelope to the man and slammed the desk drawer in anger.
Whoever it was didn’t care if anyone found out that Kelly was burgled. Jonelle prayed they wouldn’t leave by the back door. As the voices faded, she risked opening the door wider. The two had stopped in front of the main door.
A few moments later, without a word, they left Kelly’s office.
Jonelle counted to one hundred and followed the narrow hallway around the other side and over to the bank of elevators and down to the lobby.
A stroll to the subway station gave her time to contemplate different possibilities, none of which got her any closer to why Susanna would connect to a homeless person like Luther. When she returned to the office on Monday, she’d call Finkleberg. She’d see what he had to say about meeting Kelly.
CHAPTER 27
She almost missed the man staring at her from across the street. Preoccupied with trying to figure out what all the information she’d seen in Kelly’s office meant, Jonelle had passed the gray sedan without looking. As she stood in front of her building and inserted the key in the outside lock, a quick glance in the glass reflected the car with someone sitting with his arm draped over the driver’s side door.
Jonelle turned around to get a better look. The male occupant wore dark glasses. She stared at him and he stared back. From where she stood, she couldn’t tell if there was anyone in the passenger seat, but if those were the same two men she’d seen outside Polly Cole’s house, she was sure someone else sat next to the driver. For a brief moment, she considered walking across the street to their car, to see what they would do. At the same time she moved in their direction, the building doors opened and neighbors Mathilda and Franklin Brobish stepped out.
“Well, hello dear,” said Mathilda. “Are you coming in? Franklin, hold the door for Jonelle.”
Jonelle turned toward her elderly neighbors. Before she could get any words out, a car engine started. She turned back around in time to see the vehicle take off down the street.
“Is that someone you know?” Franklin asked.
“No. I noticed the car as I walked up. Have either of you seen it before?”
They shook their heads in unison. “Is there a problem? If you want, I can keep an eye out for it.” Over a year ago Mathilda had offered assistance when Jonelle needed to find her husband’s missing body. Eyesight clear and hearing astute, Mathilda made it her business to know everyone’s comings and goings, which could work to Jonelle’s benefit.
“I even saw the man behind the wheel,” Mathilda added, a touch of pride in her voice.
“You did? From here?” Franklin asked. His tone indicated he didn’t quite believe his wife.
“Of course I did.” Mathilda sniffed. “I’ve got my new glasses, remember.”
All three stood on the sidewalk. Jonelle didn’t want to get into a family disagreement. While the Brobishes had stayed married for forty years, the couple could get a bit prickly.
“Tell you what. If you happen to see the car again, come get me if I’m home or call me and recount what you’ve seen. That’ll let me know if these guys warrant a closer look.”
Mathilda touched Jonelle’s arm, a gleam in her eye. “If I see them do you want me to ask them what they want?”
“No! Please don’t. Let me know and I’ll handle it.” Jonelle hoped she hadn’t opened a Pandora’s Box.
“You’re not in any trouble, are you dear?”
“Not at all.” At least she hoped not. “It’s just the curious part of me wanting to know everything about everybody out of the ordinary.”
Franklin grinned. “Guess that’s why you’re our very own hotshot detective.”
She eased by the couple and entered the building. “Don’t know if I’d say ‘hotshot’, but thanks for the compliment.” She waved goodbye and watched as they strolled hand-in-hand down the sidewalk on the second of their two daily walks. Jonelle felt confident that should the strangers appear in front of her home again, Mathilda would notice and report back.
Jonelle’s hand paused above the door knob to her condo. The notes of a cello embraced the lobby with its deep, mellow sound as if giving the vestibule a warm bear hug. Upstairs neighbor Hamilton Yee was rehearsing again. Everyone loved it when he was in-between concerts. His music often helped settle Jonelle’s nerves whenever she’d had a stressful day.
Jonelle checked her watch. It was too early to visit her other upstairs neighbor. Sheila MacIntosh worked nights and grabbed sleep when she could. Jonelle let herself into the condo. Nothing wrong with spending a quiet evening at home. Unless. She could always call Adrienne. No. She wasn’t in the mood for her friend’s high-energy attitude. What about Burt? She shook her head. She’d wait for him to invite her out. Besides, she’d probably have to tell him about the information she’d “found.” He’d have a million questions and she wasn’t ready for that.
When she discovered the rental car receipt, she thought it might’ve been tied to Sophia. What if instead, Kelly had ties to the men who were following her. Why? Jonelle shook her head. It didn’t make sense. She walked into the kitchen and turned on the stove to preheat. She’d made a tuna noodle casserole and had frozen the leftovers. While she waited, she poured herself a generous glass of Chardonnay.
As she rummaged in the cupboard for the fish food, she knew there was no way the rental car company would give her information about a customer. The hotel receipt indicated a location known for its cheap rates and transient population. She’d pay a visit tomorrow. Jonelle sprinkled fish food in the aquarium. She hadn’t even met Kelly when she noticed the men on her last night of surveillance. Who were they and how did they know where she lived?
CHAPTER 28
Armed with the .38 nestled comfortably at the bottom of her shoulder bag, Jonelle journeyed to the now familiar abandoned warehouse located on Baltimore’s west side. Unease no longer nagged at her; she was used to the area and the building’s inhabitants.
All the same, Jonelle scanned the area before she left her Jeep. Of the few sodium lights in the area, the one on the corner in front still worked. She appro
ached the building. After skimming the area once more, she turned sideways, eased through the sagging chain link fence and headed for the gaping opening that would allow access inside. Before she entered, she inhaled deeply several times. Her claustrophobia usually kicked in once she entered the cavernous space.
Her hand grasped the penlight stashed in the bag. She shuffled forward. Her athletic shoes slid over piles of paper and crunched over … who knew what. A push of the button and a slim beam of light played out before her. With eyes aimed straight ahead, she walked forward several steps and veered to the left. She knew where she was going. Past trips had identified Luther’s personal space.
She shouted a heads-up to the people she couldn’t see, but knew were there. “Hello? It’s me, Jonelle Sweet.” She cocked her head and listened. “I’m here to see Luther. I know you all don’t like me to come here, but I’ve got something very important to discuss with him. And also with Chester if he’s around. Hello?”
She shivered against the cool night air that swept through the building. Jonelle wrapped the knee-length cardigan tight against her body and waited. Nothing. He had to be here; this was his home at night. When she first met him over a year ago, he and the rest of his crew had already claimed this space and the city left them alone. Jonelle felt many eyes upon her. In the past, it hadn’t taken long for someone to draw near. This time was different.
An uneasiness gripped her. “I know somebody’s here. You guys can see me so you know I’m alone. Come on. I’ve never done anything to betray your trust. Please.”
Jonelle stood rooted to the spot and waited. After what seemed like several minutes, an uneven shuffling noise sounded on her left side. She relaxed and aimed her light at the ground toward the sound of the footsteps. Scuffed and worn work boots covered the figure’s feet. Jonelle slowly worked the beam up past the dirty jeans, flannel shirt and heavy torn jacket.
The Trickster (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 3) Page 17
