That Awful Sound: Psychic Detectives - The Joliet Sisters Page 2
“No wonder you two got along. So how did she die?” Charmaine stood and stretched. The last few hours had started to take a toll. Her legs ached.
“Read some minds and find out for shit’s sake. I can’t do all the work,” Jessi retorted.
“Very funny,” Charmaine retorted.
“I hacked through the wall with a heavy silver vase. The plaster or whatever seemed mighty thin, like an old closet covered over. I think she was shot.” Jessi started to say more, but broke off and nodded. “Here we go.”
Charmaine turned around to see Harrison and his boss coming their way.”Let me do the talking.”
“Gladly,” Jessi retorted. She pulled the blanket around her as if for protection.
“Didn’t I say stay put?” Harrison drew his shoulders in at the look his boss gave him.
“The situation should be under your control, Harrison,” the man cracked. He gave Charmaine and Jessi an appraising glace for a few seconds in silence. “You two are free to go. Handle it, Harrison.”
“Yes sir,” Harrison spat.
The man lingered a second to eye the detective before he strode off. “I’ll get with you later,” he called without looking back.
Detective Harrison faced Charmaine and Jessi. “You have more luck than a bucket of four leaf clovers.”
“Oh good, we’re not murder suspects,” Jessi quipped in a dry tone. She hopped down from the back of the van and tossed the police blanket on the floor board. “Let’s get the hell outta here before they change their minds, Charmaine.”
“Wait a minute.” Charmaine frowned and blink rapidly.
“Your baby sister is right. Be glad you’ve been handed a get-out-of-jail-free,” Harrison said.
“But...” Charmaine pointed at the house.
“Go away,” Harrison barked loud and both women jumped. Then he lowered his voice. “You’ve got something on this uptown chick with big political connections. I’m going to find out what you’re up to, Ms. Joliet. Until then, don’t come unless I send for you.”
“I’m not up to anything. She called us.” Charmaine stopped when Harrison’s eyes turned to slits.
“You’re absolutely right, detective. We should get out of your way so you can do your job. Come on Charmaine.” Jessi grabbed Charmaine’s arm. After a few insistent tugs, she got them both moving.
“Something funny is going on.” Charmaine matched Jessi’s steps, but she kept looking back at Detective Harrison.
Jessi yanked her hard until they reached Charmaine’s blue Ford Focus. “What was your first clue? A rich woman full of secrets and a spooky house, or the dead body in the wall?”
“Leaving might be a good idea for now,” Charmaine muttered.
The Man with a Plan
One night later Charmaine looked into the barrel of the automatic pistol pointed at her. The round hole where a bullet might come out any second seemed huge. The man holding it blurred into a scary background figure in the dark. So maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that the light under her carport had gone out.
He’d come up behind Charmaine before she could get inside the door leading to her kitchen. He ordered her to shut up and go inside fast. His deep voice had a dreamy lover boy quality. Except he wasn’t trying to charm anyone, certainly not Charmaine. Who? Why? Wait, not a priority at the moment.
“And don’t try sayin’ you ain’t by yourself,” her unwelcome visitor rumbled. “Get away from the door. I said move!”
“Look, I have more bills than money. But I got eighty dollars stashed in that big cookie jar. Grocery money for my family. I’m just tryin’ to make it like everybody else,” Charmaine said, putting a tremble in her voice.
“Humph. You ain’t got no kids, so don’t try the single mother angle. We not goin’ to the kitchen so you can get your hands on a knife or somethin’. Move down that hall. We’re goin’ to the living room. No, wait. We goin’ in your office Miss social worker.” The man waved the gun at her to walk.
Charmaine thought fast as they walked through the door and down the hallway. He had done his homework on her. “You can tell I don’t have much worth stealing by looking around. I have two televisions, an old computer and not much else.”
“Yeah. I oughta jack your raggedy shit as payment for the trouble you caused me. But I don’t want your piddly-assed stuff. Put the purse down on this table and go over there.”
“Okay, sure.” Charmaine kept her back to him as she placed her purse down and walked across the room.
“Turn around,” the man ordered.
“I haven’t seen your face or even what you’re wearing, so I can’t describe you to...”
“Turn around,” the said with more edge to his tone.
With a deep sigh, Charmaine faced him. The fact that he didn’t care if she saw his face was seriously bad news. He had no intention of leaving her alive to tell the tale. “You don’t want to rob me, so now what?”
The man was the color of honey. His dark tight curls were cut close. He glanced around the room for a few seconds. Then he focused on Charmaine gain. He seemed quite comfortable holding a gun on another human being. “I’m Darrius James, the one you and that rich woman set up for Shawntelle’s murder. Yeah, I see the light bulb just went on over your head.”
“We didn’t, I mean I didn’t set you up for murder. You have a history of getting into fights with Mrs. Forstall’s housekeeper. You came to the house while Shawntelle was at work and threatened her. It’s... it’s in the police files. Once they identified her—”
“I went to her job twice without calling, and Shawntelle threatened me for showing up,” Darrius broke in.
“Uh, y’all got into a fist fight at a nightclub last year. The police report says you had a knife.”
“I ain’t stupid enough to kill her and leave the body at that bitch’s house,” Darrius growled. “If I took somebody out wouldn’t be nothin’ left for them CSI types to find.”
“Okay, just explain to the cops,” Charmaine said weakly. She flinched when Darrius let out a growly laugh empty of amusement.
“Sure. Big black guy with a record goes to the cops and explains they got it all wrong. He didn’t kill his girlfriend. That oughta work real good.” Darrius glanced at his watch. “I got a much better idea.”
Charmaine glanced at the digital clock on her desk. The glowing red numbers told her it was almost ten o’clock. “Um, what would that be?”
“Shawntelle told me more than once her boss is crazy. All kinds of nasty secrets in that family,” Darrius said.
“Like?”
“Did Miz Society Lady tell you we had us a three way one time?” Darrius grinned at Charmaine’s gaping mouth. “Yeah, she swung both ways. Me, her and Shawntelle had us a party one weekend. Her husband and kids went to their beach house in Florida. Loretta pretended she was sick and stayed home. Bet when she was gabbing to the police she didn’t tell ‘em that story.”
“I’m fairly sure she left it out,” Charmaine murmured. “So Mrs. Forstall invited you inside at least once.”
Darrius grinned and winked. “Musta been good to her cause I got invited back two more times. I think she liked Shawntelle better than me.”
“And you weren’t…”
“Jealous? Hell no, I don’t judge. Besides, Shawntelle was just in it for the money. Got a nice cash bonus and expensive liquor to take home.” Darrius grunted a sigh. “I’m gonna miss that girl.”
“How sentimental of you,” Charmaine muttered. She looked around her office. For the first time she realized how few escape routes it had. Once she earned the rest of her fee she’d do renovations. “Look, I go wherever the facts lead. I’m not going to help Mrs. Forstall cover up a crime, sure as hell not murder. The police are suspicious about us anyway.”
“What you mean ‘us’?” Darrius squinted at her.
“Um, me and Mrs. Forstall,” Charmaine said. No point in putting a target on Jessi.
“Yeah, well you can investigate the hel
l out of her house tonight because we’re going over there,” Darrius said.
“Are you crazy? The cops still have that place roped off as a crime scene. You must want to be caught,” Charmaine argued.
Darrius shook his head. “The cops finished up this morning. Mrs. Forstall is back in the house. The cleaning service she called been there all day.”
“Right, of course.” Charmaine shot him a sideways glance before she went back to plotting against him.
“You ain’t gettin’ away from me. We gone leave here in another half hour and surprise the bitch. I’ll get her to talk.” Darrius motioned at her with the gun. “So sit down.”
“Sure thing, Darrius. Your plan makes all kinds of sense. The moment she sees you, Loretta is going to confess and let me record everything on my cell phone. We’ll be home by midnight.” Charmaine slumped down into another chair across from him.
“Ya think?” Darrius quipped. Then he managed to pull out a cigarette, put it in his mouth and light it with the gun still pointed at her chest.
Forty-five minutes later Charmaine started to get antsy. Darrius was on his fourth cigarette when his cell phone played a tune. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it into her laminate floors. For that alone Charmaine decided to get revenge.
“Humph. We’re clear to head over there. You’re driving, and you know I can use this gun like a pro. Right?” Darrius stood.
“I guessed as much, yeah,” Charmaine replied.
She didn’t have any silly notions about running since those bullets would be faster. So Charmaine decided to take a chance on following orders. At least he had a destination in mind. Darrius could still decide to make her drive to her own burial site, but Charmaine didn’t think so.
After twenty minutes of driving carefully and obeying all traffic laws, they arrived at the Garden District mansion. Charmaine looked around for increased private security in vain. Maybe a patrol car would be circling, but no.
“They think I’m in New Orleans east. Paid somebody to call in a tip. So the don’t’ expect the cops,” Darrius said. He lay down on the back seat just in case, the gun still on Charmaine.
“She’s staying with a friend or a relative. Mrs. Forstall was already scared to be in the house alone because—”
“There’s some kind of ghost or something in the house. Why doesn’t she sell the place? Because she’s full of bullshit, that’s why.” Darrius sat straight. “Don’t park in the circular driveway. Pull down the one that leads to the back.”
Charmaine drove down the side of the house. She stopped at the end of the driveway. A lovely two story carriage house sat adjacent to the main house. A Porsche SUV sat in the three car garage. A tall lamppost threw yellow light across the rear lawn. Darrius left the backseat first, then waved her out.
“I’m telling you this is a bad idea. Mrs. Forstall is scared out of her mind. She might shoot us on sight,” Charmaine said.
Darrius handed Charmaine a throw away cell phone. “She’s here by herself. That alone tells you she ain’t scared. Loretta is a planner. She killed Shawntelle for a reason, and I wanna know why. I’ll get us through the back door. Tell her you’re at the front door. You didn’t want to alarm her, that’s why you called. Say you found some important evidence.”
Charmaine made a sudden move at a shuffling sound to her right. “What was that?”
“You better not be jumping around while I’m holding this gun. Now call.” Darrius grabbed Charmaine from behind and pressed it into her side. Then he took the cell from her. “I put a silencer on. Point blank will muffle the shot even more.”
“You… you planning to kill us?” Charmaine shivered.
“I’m still working that part out. Now walk.”
Darrius used a key to get into the house and ease them into the kitchen. He disarmed the alarm. Charmaine fumbled with the phone and tapped the number. Mrs. Forstall answered on the fourth ring. Though surprised, she seemed relieved to hear from Charmaine.
“Silly bitch didn’t even think to change the code. Now let’s go surprise her.”
Mrs. Forstall was still at the front door in the wide foyer when they approached from behind. She stifled a short yelp and whirled to face them. Then she let out a slow breath. “Miss Joliet, it’s you thank God. I thought… oh never mind. But how did you get inside? I don’t understand.”
Darrius stepped from the shadows still holding the gun, a second man with him. “Nice to see you again, Loretta. Let’s go the library.”
He Had It Comin’
The heavy drapes in the library closed, Darrius went about serving himself and his friend Zed a drink. Zed held a revolver on them as he glanced around. He seemed more interested in sizing up items he could steal. Charmaine tried to calm her nerves enough so she could think straight. Hard to do with two pissed off gangstas holding pistols and winging it with what they would do with their hostages. She decided to ask.
“I don’t get the point of all this, Darrius. Mrs. Forstall—”
“Call her Loretta. No need to be all formal now that we’re hangin’ out,” Darrius cut in.
“You’re just piling up felonies by kidnapping and assaulting us. You know the police are looking everywhere for you. They’ll see through the fake tip real quick,” Charmaine continued.
“You give them too much credit,” Zed replied. He glanced over to make sure Darrius had his gun up again. Then he set about examining a tall glazed vase.
“Loretta is gonna tell us what happened to Shawntelle. I mean the damn truth,” Darrius barked before Mrs. Forstall could reply.
“She must have stayed late to finish up. I’d asked her to polish the copper bowls and plates that belonged to my mother. I didn’t even realize she was still in the house. Poor thing. I warned her.”
“I warned her not to trust you,” Darrius said.
Mrs. Forstall gazed at Zed for a few seconds then looked at Darrius. “The police called with more information. Shawntelle wasn’t killed with a gun. Your sister was wrong, Ms. Joliet.”
“Sister?” Darrius turned to Charmaine.
“We work together once in a while. She doesn’t know anything,” Charmaine said.
“I’ll find out what she knows later. Now you tell us what the police said.” Darrius settled into a large leather chair.
“The blood came from strange wounds on her body. His throat was crushed and… it’s too horrible.” Mrs. Forstall placed at hand on her own neck and shuddered visibly. “It’s getting worse.”
Zed looked up from the Chinese porcelain bowl he held. “What’s gettin’ worse? What’s she talking about, D?”
“Some kind of ghost or supernatural entity in the house,” Charmaine put in before Mrs. Forstall answered. “Something strong.”
“Bull.Shit.” Darrius gulped down the rest of the expensive bourbon. “Ignore that playacting, Zed.”
“I heard stories about these old houses.” Zed dropped the bowl with a thud on the cherry wood table.
Charmaine winced as the vase next to it wobbled and then steadied. She exhaled. “Don’t break up your profit. The stuff won’t be worth anything in pieces.”
Mrs. Forstall took a step then stopped when Darrius pointed the gun at her. “You can take whatever you want. Those two pieces alone are worth over fifteen thousand dollars.”
“Hell no. Like we’re stupid enough to get caught trying to unload ‘em.”
“I won’t report them stolen. I can give you the name of a dealer who’ll pay top dollar. I’ll say you’re acting as my agents.” Mrs. Forstall nodded to Zed.
“Hey, sounds like a sweet deal.” Zed looked at Darius. “We have her write a note to the dealer. What about antique jewelry?”
“I have three pieces here. The rest are in our bank deposit box. But the necklace, earrings and ring are eighteen karat gold. They’re Cartier made in 1925, yellow diamonds,” Mrs. Forstall said.
“Nice,” Zed said, his nervousness about talk of ghosts and goblins forgotten.
“She was wrong,” Mrs. Forstall blurted out and twisted her hands. “My husband moved everything to the bank.”
“Somehow I don’t believe you, Loretta. Shawntelle came back while you were out. She was about to make off with the goods and expose your dirty skeletons, so you killed her,” Darrius snarled.
“Damn,” Charmaine muttered and turned to Mrs. Forstall.
Mrs. Forstall dropped her hands at her sides. “That’s ridiculous. No one, especially the police, will buy your story.”
“Must be some good stuff up there.” Zed looked at the ceiling with a hungry expression.
“And she won’t report it missing either. Will you Loretta?” Darrius gave a laugh. “You’ll go down for murder, and the cops will think you fenced your own junk.”
“You have no idea how stupid you sound.” Mrs. Forstall lifted her chin. “No one will believe a ghetto rat instead of me.”
Darrius chuckled deep in his throat. “Zed, go upstairs, turn right and find a set of stairs to a third floor. There’s another big bedroom at the end of a hallway. To the left. Open the double doors on the big upright dresser. Look on the right for circle. Press it and a panel will slid back.”
“Got it.” Zed strode out on a mission. The soft thump of his footsteps on the stairs, and then on the second floor landing followed seconds later.
Mrs. Forstall glanced at the doorway Zed had gone through. “Don’t be a fool. I can make you richer than a few thousand dollars and a few trinkets.”
“Charmaine, wanna hear more secrets?” Darrius continued to gaze at Mrs. Forstall. “Her precious son has a little, make that a big drug habit. I should know. He was my best customer. Mr. Forstall works a lot, plus he’s not the family man type. Anyway Loretta managed to hide the embarrassing truth from him. Not hard since Mr. F. and the kid can’t stand each other. Her husband is glad not to see the kid.”