Health, Wealth, and Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 4)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  “And we don’t want to let the people down.” This time the speaker was a young woman. “People have been praying for us to come, have been longing for the work of the Spirit.” Her voice was a bit twee, and very sincere sounding.

  Jane rolled her eyes.

  Apparently so did the deep-voiced man. “God doesn’t need us to do his work.”

  “But he longs to use us.” The sincere-voiced girl had a dreamy, grateful tone to her voice that was nice to hear.

  “Enough bickering. We’re scheduled, so we will meet our commitments. We say we believe our life on earth is temporary and our return home to God is what we long for. Now is our chance to show everyone that we mean it. We don’t grieve Josiah.” Here, Christiana choked on her words, like she was suppressing a sob. “We celebrate his homegoing.”

  “It’s natural to grieve the loss of your husband.” This time the speaker was an older-sounding woman, with the raspy voice of a smoker.

  “That’s the world’s way, Evelyn,” Christiana said. “Not our way.”

  Jane dragged her damp rag across the windowsill. None of them were talking like they believed they were scam artists. Was that because only a select few were in on the scamming? Or was it because the team really believed the drugs, special effects, and carefully staged activity was the way God liked to work? Jane paused.

  No church she had ever been a part of explicitly taught that God blessed people with money when they pleased him, and yet, all of the churches she had been a part of had taken financial success—with fundraisers, events, building programs, all of that—as a sign that God was blessing an activity. She took a deep breath. The Malachi Ministries taught the popular prosperity gospel, which made no secret of seeing money as God’s blessing. So, with that logic in mind…

  Jane sat down.

  The Malachi family was filthy rich.

  The house they had rented was a beautiful old thing in an expensive neighborhood. They had a shiny new Cadillac parked out front. Christiana wore really big diamonds on her fingers and ears and around her neck. Jane had seen their travel coach on the Internet in her googling. And she had read that the Malachi family owned a private jet and a couple of really big estates.

  If they truly believed that money was a sign of God’s blessing, of you pleasing him with your labor—and Jane had to admit, while this wasn’t taught overtly at any church she had gone to, it had certainly been accepted over and over again as an unspoken truth—then the Malachi Ministries had abundant “evidence” that God liked how they ran their events.

  Jane’s stomach turned. She gripped her rag in a tight fist.

  If these guys were sincere, and their belief in their work was logical—even considered against her own church experience—then how could she keep considering Josiah a snake-oil salesman who deserved what he got?

  Christiana was talking again, her voice much quieter now, so Jane had to focus to hear her. “We are scheduled and we keep our appearances. I will be preaching, and you all know what I need. If we want to pull this off—and, trust me, we do—we can’t spare any expense. Do you understand?”

  “We’ll make it happen for you, Christiana.” The speaker was another new voice. Young and male. Something about the edge to his voice sent a shiver of fear up Jane’s arms.

  Half an hour later, after everyone had cleared out of the dining room, Francine met Jane in the kitchen. “The exterminator is here to spray for the ants. Let’s leave him to it.” Francine placed her hand at the small of Jane’s back and led her outside. “I’m not sure the safest place to go, but a quiet coffee shop far from here will work.” Francine’s face was ashen, with dark circles under her eyes. “I’ll follow you.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Jane squeezed her hand and then drove them to Maywood to have a quiet cup of coffee, and a burger, at the last standing Roly Burger restaurant.

  The lunch crowd hadn’t appeared yet, but Jane had texted Jake when she pulled into the parking lot, and he let Francine and Jane meet in his office.

  “Francine, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t overhear anything suspicious while I cleaned. I don’t want to disappoint you, but…unless you can tell me what you were hoping I would hear, I’m not sure this morning did any good.”

  Francine stirred her coffee. “I was in the meeting, and I agree. If you didn’t know what you were listening for, you don’t know what you heard.”

  “So what did I hear?”

  Francine sucked in her cheeks. After a moment she answered, “You heard Christiana declare that she wouldn’t grieve her husband and that she wanted business to go on as usual. You also heard her encouraging the task force in their sincere devotion, which I think is criminal.” Color rose in Francine’s face.

  Jane drummed her fingers on the table. “What makes you think Christiana and Josiah weren’t sincere?”

  Francine stared at Jane, wide eyed. “You aren’t a follower of theirs, surely?”

  “Of course not, but I have limited access to the inside of all of this. Knowing what makes you feel sure that the Malachis haven’t been sincere would help me.”

  Francine narrowed her eyes. “They use illicit drugs to manufacture visions to convince lonely people that handing over their hard-earned money will give them God’s blessing.”

  “But is that how the Malachis saw it?” Jane kept her voice soft. She didn’t want to upset Francine, but the idea that Josiah and Christiana might have been completely sincere in all they did was nagging at her. It spoke to the motive of the killer somehow—or at least she wanted it to.

  “I’m sure.”

  “But how can you be? I would like to know what you know. It would help me.” Jane leaned forward slightly.

  Francine shook her head. “It won’t help you nearly as much as knowing a little more about the task force will.” Francine crossed her arms over her chest.

  Jane nodded and sat back in her chair. “Knowing about the people at today’s meeting will help. What can you tell me about them?”

  “The task force is fifteen people, but Christiana only invited the six leads to the meeting today. That includes me, as I was Josiah’s personal assistant.”

  “What about the other five people who were there today?”

  “Lucas is the one with that deep voice; he’s been traveling with us for five years. He runs all of the lights and sound and works with buildings and facilities. You could say he’s in charge of making sure each event is set up to create the right mood, and only reveal exactly what Josiah wants everyone to see.”

  “Would he also edit footage for the website?” Jane sipped her coffee. She was finally getting down to business, and even if she wasn’t spying right now, she was getting to flex her interview skills, which needed the exercise.

  “Yes, that’s him. He puts together all of the video footage. He’s busy right now working on the last three events. Some will air on TV and some will go online.”

  “Did he make these decisions himself, or did he work closely with Josiah?”

  “He worked hand in hand with both of them. Usually they watched the footage together, and Josiah told Lucas exactly what he wanted shown in the video. Then Lucas created it.” Francine switched her cup from hand to hand but didn’t drink.

  So Lucas was the one to talk to about the editing of the golden-insects video and how Josiah felt about the direction his visions had taken. She would just have to figure out a natural reason for the housekeeper to have that conversation.

  “I only heard one other man’s voice. Who was the silent one?”

  “That was Nguyen. His English is pretty bad.” She shook her head. “The poor man. He’s been with the team for quite a long time now. Travels with us. Does a lot of legwork.”

  “Legwork?”

  “Door to door. Passing out flyers, hanging posters. He leads the local members of the task force, sends them out two by two and all of that. I suppose it’s good work for him, a good job. He writes the instructions out and sends folks. I suppo
se he’s as fluent in English as he’ll ever be, but his accent is thick, and he just doesn’t like to talk much.”

  “And the other man?” Jane made notes, but wondered how to spell “Win,” and what his first language might be.

  “That’s Robert.” Francine blushed, so small an amount Jane might not have noticed had she not been paying extra-close attention. “He joined up with the team six months ago, and works hard. But he keeps to himself. Nose down, getting his job done.”

  Jane put a question mark next to his name. Francine was keeping something to herself, but what? “And the women?”

  “I was there, of course. And Evelyn, Josiah’s sister. She walked out on her husband ten years ago when he decided that Josiah was a scam artist who he couldn’t support.”

  “No wonder she was encouraging Christiana to grieve.”

  Francine shrugged. “She would. No one knows if this ministry will last with Christiana at the head. Personality driven the way it has been and all, Evelyn might well be grieving her meal ticket as much as her brother.”

  Jane flinched. Was Francine’s cold attitude to her teammates the result of being forced to work for evil people for too long, or could it be that she was just dark inside, and that was why she couldn’t get behind what Josiah was preaching? Jane shuddered. She needed to stop giving the Malachi Ministries the benefit of the doubt. “What about the younger woman?”

  “Tiffany, Lucas’s wife.” Francine shrugged. “She’s completely brainwashed. I don’t think she knows about the drug use at all.”

  “Why is she one of the six leads?”

  Francine smirked. “You didn’t see her, did you?”

  “Nope, you’ll have to enlighten me.” Jane shuddered. She had hoped with all her heart this crime wouldn’t be related to that kind of bad behavior.

  “The wheelchair.”

  “She’s in a wheelchair?” Her pen hovered over her paper. Not what she had expected to hear.

  “Yes. Polio victim from India. She’s a sweet girl, and so sincere.” Francine finally took a drink of her coffee, but she made a pained face as though it had burned her tongue. “With braces, she can walk, but it tires her out. She comes to events in her wheelchair, then rises from it and walks to the stage at just the right time. Every event it’s exactly the same. It’s never on the video, only the ‘healings’ that follow her. No point letting the world know they use the same person as a prop week in and week out.”

  “But you said she was sincere, devout. Why would she let herself be used like that?”

  “They tell her that they want her to come forward when Josiah gives the altar call to help give the rest of the crowd courage. And they only tell her to be in her wheelchair so she can keep her strength up. They don’t tell her what they are really thinking.”

  “But they told you?”

  “I don’t have to be told. I see through them.”

  “Francine, what happened? When did you begin to see the cracks in the ministry?”

  Francine shook her head. “As soon as I found out they used drugs to manufacture visions. What else would you need?”

  Jane tilted her head a little. “Yeah, that would be enough for me, too.”

  After Francine left, Jake came back to his office to be briefed on the interview.

  “I want to know about the other nine task force members.” Jane crumpled up her burger wrapper and lobbed it into the garbage can on the other side of the room.

  “You don’t think one of these guys was responsible?” Jake leaned back in his big wooden desk chair, his arms crossed behind his head.

  “If Josiah and Christiana are as awful as Francine thinks, it could have been her. Robert has a lot of question marks as well. Question marks aren’t enough to make me immediately think it was Robert. Lucas and Tiffany seem to only lose from the death, as does Evelyn. And that Win guy…no. I just don’t think it was him. The next thing I need to do is go one more circle out.”

  “What about Francine? She claims to be the number-one suspect of the police, but she isn’t in custody, and she won’t tell you why she’s a likely suspect.”

  “Do you think she did it?”

  “What if she did?” Jake asked.

  “If she killed him, then she hired me to make someone else look guiltier than her.” Jane shivered. “I don’t like that at all.”

  “Then don’t take her off of your suspect list.”

  A knock on the office door made Jane jump.

  “Jake…it’s the mayor’s assistant.” Jake’s secretary had a deep crease between her eyes.

  “Send him in.”

  Jane pulled her chair around to Jake’s side of the desk and put her notebook on her knee. She wanted to look like she was supposed to be there.

  “Crawford.”

  “Ted.” Jake jutted his chin, just a bit.

  “I see you’ve given out freebie coupons to every single church in Maywood.”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s bribing voters.” Ted pushed his glasses up on his stubby nose.

  “It’s advertising.”

  “Good only on Sunday?”

  “That’s the day they get the coupons at church, isn’t it?” Jake raised an eyebrow.

  Ted snarled. “You do realize there is an obesity epidemic in this country, don’t you?”

  “We don’t supersize, so it’s all good.” Jake allowed a controlled smile, but his eyes were steely.

  It was like a tennis match, and Jane couldn’t tear her eyes away. She hadn’t realized Maywood was still toying with their blue-laws idea after all this time, but Jake didn’t seem surprised by the unplanned visit.

  And he seemed to be a good match for the older man, who was lightly sweating, though that could have been from walking across town.

  “Maywoodians won’t like to be bought off.” Ted cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m here to let you know that your coupon trick was noted, and you won’t get away with it.”

  “Is that threat from the mayor himself, Ted? Because Miss Adler was just recording our conversation so we could refer back to it later, and I don’t think she’s turned off that app yet.”

  “It’s not a threat, Crawford. It’s a fact. Just as it’s a fact that Bob, your good father, was going to turn this place into a Yo-Heaven just like all the Portland locations. He wasn’t going to keep making burgers.”

  “May he rest in peace.” Jake’s jaw twitched, but he kept his cool. “Dad’s not with us anymore, so I have to make the best decisions that I can. And I like Roly Burgers. They’re delicious.”

  Ted sniffed. “Like Roly Burgers? Everyone likes Roly Burgers. That’s half the problem. But right now, you are bribing the voters.”

  “A BOGO coupon is hardly a bribe.”

  “It is if it is only good on Sunday, and we are asking the voters to agree to shut down all fast food restaurants on Sundays.”

  “Blue laws, Ted. Blue laws. Is that the kind of commuter community you want to live in?”

  “I want to live in a healthy community, Crawford, and so does the mayor, and the city council.”

  Jake stood up. “Thank you for your input into this matter. I will give it all the consideration it deserves.”

  Ted looked at Jane for the first time.

  She smiled, feigning wide-eyed innocence.

  “You’ll both understand when you’re older.” Ted let himself out.

  “Still on that, is he?” Jane asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What are you going to do about it, I mean, besides the coupons?”

  “I’ll do what I need to do.” Jake had his eye on the window, watching Ted walk down the sidewalk of Maywood’s Main Street. “The more interesting question is, what are you going to do next about this murder?”

  Jane took a deep breath. “Before we get back to the murder, do you think you’ll get in trouble for the coupons?”

  “Buying votes? No, I won’t. And the voters won’t vote in blue laws. Maywood is an incorporated
suburb, essentially. Two thousand people on the edge of Portland. What good would it do? We’d just drive the half a block across the border and get lunch at McDonald’s. The mayor knows that.”

  “Could there be another motive for his push to make fast food illegal on Sundays?” Jane checked the time on her phone. She had another client to get to.

  “He really likes smoothies.”

  “Is that your serious answer?”

  Jake shook his head. “He really wants me to put in a Yo-Heaven, but I don’t know why. If I could figure that out…”

  “It would help, anyway.”

  Jake sat down again. “It would answer some questions. So, how are you going to get the information you need about the rest of the Malachi task force?”

  “I have to work my strengths.”

  “You’ll win them over with your smile?”

  “Close.” Jane grinned. “I don’t have any authority. I don’t have an air of importance. I’m not related. There’s no threat hanging over my head.”

  “You make a strong case against them talking to you.”

  “But I’m a coed, and this is a famous murder case. How hard can it be to convince them I’m a bubbleheaded gossip? If I smile a lot and bat my eyes, I can probably get all sorts of information they don’t realize they’re giving me. In my pink rubber gloves with a bandana around my head, I’m completely harmless.”

  Jake sized her up. “I think you could pull that off.”

  “It’s worth a try, anyway.”

  Jake’s gaze had drifted back to the window.

  “I’ll go and let you work. I’ve got another client anyway.” She kissed his cheek and left, wondering for the moment more about Jake’s troubles with the sleepy little suburb/town of Maywood than about the murder.

  Nine

  Christiana didn’t want daily cleaning, so it was a couple of days before Jane was finally back in the Malachi rental house, ready to clean, observe, and listen.

  The house was fairly clean, no small kids or dogs, so Jane moved quickly through the main floor.

  She had two goals this afternoon: find out everything she could about Christiana’s family—and whoever else might be living at the house—and get the other nine task force members’ names. Once she knew who the locals were, she could find them and get down to business.