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

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  Jane pulled out a book and pretended to read, waiting for both Jake and Nick to show up.

  When they came in together, Jane almost fell out of her chair.

  There was no mistaking Nick. He was at least six foot two, broad shouldered, slim waisted, and wearing what Jane knew for a fact were three-hundred-dollar jeans. He laughed at something Jake said, and held the door open for him.

  Jake led him straight to Jane’s chair, bypassing the waiting Wendy entirely.

  Wendy, who had her eyes trained on the door, didn’t even flinch. She must not have seen a picture of Nick before.

  “Hey, babe.” Jake leaned over to kiss Jane’s cheek in greeting as she stood up to offer Nick her hand. She cracked the top of her head on his chin. It smarted, but Jake laughed. “Easy.”

  “Hey, there.”

  “Jane, this is Nick. He’s meeting Wendy from our missional community—for the first time.” Jake winked. “Is she here yet?”

  Nick looked at his feet and blushed.

  Jane’s mouth bobbed open. She looked from the blushing Adonis to Wendy, sweet and pretty, but still, just regular old Wendy, sitting in the back of the restaurant, staring at the door with hope in her eyes. “Uh…”

  Jake gave the room the 360. “Ah, there she is! Why didn’t you say so? Come on and meet your online lover.” Jake indicated Wendy with the tilt of his head and led Nick away.

  Jane sat back down.

  What had just happened?

  “Come join us, Janey!” Jake called from across the room.

  She walked across the coffee shop like she was floating. God had his hand on this meeting, that much was for sure. Now she wouldn’t have to hope she heard enough to decide if Nick was legit. She’d know for sure.

  She nestled into one of the four armchairs and sipped her coffee. She would rely on her natural reticence and let the other three talk while she just listened. Jake was great at insinuating himself into tight situations, but Jane was good at listening, and she’d make her best use of that tonight.

  Awkward silence immediately followed everyone taking a seat.

  Wendy had turned twelve shades of red, and could now probably be classified as “purple.”

  Nick stammered hello to Wendy, and then took the only seat left, which happened to be the farthest from his date.

  Jake leaned forward and grinned. “So how did you two meet? I know you said online, but eHarmony? Match.com? What? I need a hint for when Jane wises up and kicks me to the curb.”

  Jane stared at Jake. “Rather than that, how do you and Nick know each other?”

  Nick worked up the nerve to create a whole sentence and answered for Jake. “As it turns out, we were camp buddies. Three years running. I recognized him in the parking lot.”

  “It could be said that I still look like a twelve-year-old.”

  Nick cast a shy glance over at Wendy, and blushed. “Lucky for me, though; I don’t know that I would have been brave enough to come up and say hello.”

  Wendy smiled and looked at him through lowered lashes.

  If Jane were Wendy, she would also be completely overwhelmed by the sight of the catalogue model who had just appeared.

  “But since you asked, we met in a church chat group about six years ago. A youth group thing.” Nick shifted in his seat. He drummed his fingers on his knee while he spoke, and tapped his toes on the floor.

  Were his nerves from puppy love, or plain introversion, or was he all keyed up because he knew he had a few confessions to make to his friend? America’s Next Top Model had proved that some models were terribly shy in social situations, even though they were comfortable in front of the camera. Whatever Nick had come to say, he was looking shier by the minute.

  Wendy’s mouth was turned down in a small frown, and her eyes had started to sparkle as though tears were peeking through. Clearly a happy foursome was not her dream first date.

  Jane’s heart broke for her, and her hopes of being an insider on this conversation turned to ashes in her mouth. “We should give them some privacy.” Jane spoke in a stage whisper so that Wendy would be sure to hear, while Nick could pretend not to have heard.

  Wendy looked up, her brows lifted hopefully.

  “We can catch up later.” Jake patted Nick’s back on his way to a far table.

  Jane led Jake back to the table she had selected before…distant, but with a good view. “I hated to leave, but they weren’t going to say anything with us sitting there.”

  Jake sat with his back to the couple, and Jane sat so she could watch them from the corner of her eye. “I hadn’t planned on walking in with him, that’s for sure.”

  “But you really did know him? It wasn’t a ruse?”

  “Yup. My old cabinmate Rizzo the Rat. I know you said their dad was named Rizzo, but I really wouldn’t have put two and two together.”

  “The Rat?” The nickname fit Nick’s stepdad, that was for sure, but did it fit him? Jane hoped not, because with his good looks, there was no way Wendy was going to drop him now.

  “From Muppets. You remember Rizzo. Gonzo’s friend. Rizzo was a good guy. We all liked him.”

  “You say he was a good guy, but, what do you mean by that?”

  Jake frowned. “At camp, being a good guy meant you always had matches on hand, knew the trail to the out-of-boundaries waterfall, and shared the candy your parents sent you. He wasn’t sneaky in a way that harmed us boys, and wasn’t bad in a way that would have gotten anyone in trouble. That said, if he hadn’t been called the Rat, I might not have remembered him at all.”

  “But you didn’t remember him when I showed you his picture?”

  Jake laughed. “Are you kidding? He’s half a foot taller, no longer has glasses and braces, and his face has cleared up nicely. Even after he introduced himself, it took me a minute to place him.”

  Jane glanced at the lovers. She couldn’t read their lips, but they didn’t seem to be saying much either, just sort of gazing at each other with big cow eyes and drinking coffee. “So, what were you called at camp?”

  Jake hunkered down and narrowed his eyes. “If I tell you this, you have to promise never to reveal it to anyone, ever again. Do you understand?”

  Jane held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Jane, this is no time for sarcasm. This is serious. This is real.”

  Jane pulled her eyes away from the couple.

  Jake took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

  “Wait—” Jane held her hand up discreetly. “Nick just apologized. I’m not sure what for, but Wendy’s eyes are all red.” Jane mouthed the words, and kept her eyes on Jake while she spoke. She gave him a sappy, big-eyed look and tried to blush. Were Wendy or Nick to look their way, she wanted to appear to be completely absorbed in Jake.

  She looked at the couple again, quickly. “Now they are holding hands. What do you think? Do you trust him?”

  “Bob.”

  “What?”

  “They called me Bob.”

  “Um…like your dad?”

  “No, as in Sideshow. They called me Sideshow Bob.” Jake’s face was red, but he looked to Jane like he enjoyed revealing the secret.

  “Hold on, I think they are getting ready to leave.” Jane grabbed her purse. “We should follow them, right?”

  “Because my middle name is Terwilliger. That’s why.”

  “Okay. I get it. Simpsons reference. Embarrassing but funny. You tell everyone but make them promise not to tell. Scene: done. But hurry, we need to follow those two.”

  Jake leaned back and crossed his arms. “You see right through me, don’t you?”

  “Yup. Why aren’t you coming?” Jane could still see Wendy and Nick holding hands outside, lingering by the door of Wendy’s car.

  “We’re not going to follow them, because they took separate cars and because we know where both of them live and because tonight Wendy is going to call you and tell you every word he said. How do I know all of this? Thank you for asking
. Because I have an obnoxious sister who is nothing like you and everything like every other girl on the planet.” Jake stood up slowly and offered Jane his arm. “In fact, since Wendy is a proper member of your missional community and lives within walking distance of your apartment, she may just turn up at your door. It’s not late. What say you we head to your place and hang out for a while?”

  Jane grinned. “Well played, Sideshow. Let’s go.”

  Jake hung out at Jane’s place until after eleven, but Wendy didn’t drop by, or call. Conversation slowed, and a sense of dread filled Jane that she didn’t dare even pray about out loud.

  “She’s fine, Jane.” Jake squeezed her hand, and left without trying to steal even the smallest kiss.

  Jane bolted the deadbolt on her front door and turned her back to it. Sure, Wendy was fine. Why wouldn’t she be?

  Seventeen

  “Did you check your messages last night?” Gemma passed Jane a full mug of coffee.

  Jane wrinkled her nose. It was too full for cream. She rubbed her itching eyes, and vowed (again) to never drink coffee after five in the evening. She tried to answer, but when she opened her mouth, all she could do was yawn.

  “Someone from the police called, and it sounded kind of important.”

  Jane pressed her hand over her closed eyes and let her arm hold up the weight of her tired head. She yawned again. “What did they say?”

  “Something about your website. Someone called Grant. I guess you should probably call them. I erased it accidentally, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

  Website. Grant. Police. Jane tried to fit the words together like a puzzle, but they didn’t make a picture she understood.

  She jabbed at her phone with her thumb until she magically pulled up her website.

  It didn’t look like it had been hacked or anything. Ben, Gemma’s ex-stepbrother and so Jane’s ex-stepcousin, had done a good job, though she thought the mop bucket/spyglass logo was a bit cheesy. And, as Theo had pointed out, having a housecleaning-detective website sort of ruined the point of sneaking around pretending to be just a housecleaner.

  She signed into Squarespace to see how much she could monkey with it on her phone, which was not at all.

  “What did he say about my website?” Two drinks of the black dreck Gemma called coffee had cleared her head a little, and she remembered that Grant was Detective Bryce’s first name.

  Gemma shrugged. “I’m so sorry, I accidentally deleted it. I didn’t mean to, or I totally would have listened more carefully and written it down.”

  Jane stared at her logo and took another long, tongue-burning drink of coffee.

  Mop. Spyglass. Maid. Detective. Grant. Bryce. Phone. Website.

  Shoot.

  Jane shut her phone off. She told Detective Bryce—promised him, really—that she wasn’t hiring herself out as a private investigator without a license.

  What had prompted that obvious lie?

  She grimaced. It was way too easy to fib in this business.

  She weighed the pros and cons of showering and getting dressed before she called Detective Bryce back. But, as nice as it would be to put off the phone call, she decided to do it immediately—half-hoping she could leave a message.

  “Detective Bryce.” His voice was bright, almost happy.

  “This is Jane Adler.” Her own voice came out wavery, with morning crust all around the edges still. “I was told you called.” She bit her tongue. She had meant to apologize straightaway.

  “Ah yes, our amateur detective student who is absolutely not taking money for investigative services without a license.” He cleared his throat, but Jane thought she heard him laugh behind the cough.

  “I am so sorry. My website. I jumped the gun. I just got excited about the future. I will call my webmaster and have him pull it as soon as I hang up.”

  “That’s a very good idea. Otherwise the Department of Security would have to hear about it, and there would be fines.”

  She was sure he was still laughing.

  “Thank you for letting me off with a warning.” Jane bit her thumbnail and waited. If she had to bet money on it, she’d bet he wasn’t just letting her off with a warning.

  “You said you were in Portland State’s criminal justice program?”

  “Yes…”

  “Have you started your internship yet?”

  She tried to read his voice, and just couldn’t. Was he hinting at her amateur status? Calling her out on just taking a few classes? What exactly was his game?

  “Technically, I’m just taking a few of the classes. I’m a business major.”

  “They let you do that?” The surprise in his voice was obvious.

  “Er, technically, well, they didn’t stop me.” Jane hadn’t exactly applied for and enrolled in the school of Criminology and Criminal Justice. No point in changing majors this close to being finished and all. She had just sort of fit in some electives. Or at least, that’s how she explained it to herself.

  “Ah. No big deal. I was just wondering if you, er, wanted to do a ride along or something. I mean, you seem pretty serious about it.”

  Jane’s heart jumped into her throat. “Of course I would! That would be fantastic!” She bounced in her seat like a three-year-old, but didn’t care. “When?”

  “Saturday would be the best day for me.” Detective Bryce sounded surprised again, and happy.

  “That works. I can make that work. Saturday it is. Where do I go? What do I do?”

  “Meet me at the Burnside police station at nine.” He paused. “It’ll be fun.”

  “I’ll see you then!” Jane ended the call and danced around the room. She flopped back on the couch and called Jake.

  “Erg.” His morning greeting lacked something of her enthusiasm.

  “You’ll never guess, don’t even try. I get to do a police ride along! I can’t believe it! I’m going to have a list of questions a mile long. First I’m going to find out exactly how these guys work with private investigators, then I’m going to ask everything I possibly can about the Malachi case.”

  “Going off with that Bryce, are you?”

  “Who else? No one else knows me or would invite me on a ride along, and you know me, I’d die before I asked. I mean, eventually I’ll have to arrange my internship, I think. Something like that. Oh jeesh, Jake. This is the real deal. Less Miss Marple and way more Castle.”

  “He’s an author.”

  “Whatever. I am so excited.”

  “I can tell.”

  Jane sighed happily. “Something is finally happening, you know? So many years of school and waiting and learning, and waiting and patience, and I am finally going to be taken seriously.”

  “Technically, you are being taken for a ride.” Jake yawned so long Jane’s ears popped in sympathy. “Have you heard from Wendy yet?”

  Jane’s heart sank like a rock. “No…”

  “Could you give it an hour and then call her? I admit, I’d like to know she made it home okay.”

  “Yeah…me too.” Jane stared at the wall. The ride along…her first sign, in a really long time, that someone in a position of authority trusted her, or took her seriously. She was being given a stamp of approval. Passing the gatekeepers. It felt…legit. But it was meaningless rubbish, as Jake had pointed out in his own way. She was in the middle of a murder case, and had a real person to worry over, no matter what her legal, recognized status as a private investigator. “I’ll call you back when I hear something.”

  “Good. Thanks.” Another yawn.

  Jane hung up. The ride along would be awesome. And she would appreciate it without letting it distract her from the matter at hand.

  She filled her hour of waiting with more breakfast, a shower, all that normal morning stuff, then she skipped calling and hoofed it across the street to Wendy’s apartment, thanking God that Sean made them all rotate hosting events to get into each other’s lives more deeply, which was the only reason she knew where Wendy lived.

>   By the time she was ready to knock on the door, she was a quivering mess. Her hand shook as it banged on the hollow steel.

  She waited.

  She knocked again.

  The door swung in, and the handsomest man she had ever met stared down at her, his hair messed up and his clothes looking like he had slept in them. It was Nick, obviously, as Jane could count him as the only working model she had ever met.

  “Um…” She choked on the word. Surely she wasn’t facing down a killer. “Er…”

  “Come in. Wendy is making coffee.” Nick yawned.

  Jane entered, not quite relieved yet. The thought did cross her mind that by “making coffee” Nick had meant “dead” and by “come in” he had meant “you’re next.”

  But he hadn’t. Wendy was in the kitchen, making coffee. “Mornin’, Jane!”

  “Morning.” Jane relaxed, as much as she could, and took a seat at the little round Ikea table. “This makes my idea of having a morning gossip about your date a little awkward.”

  Nick laughed. “Agreed.”

  “Nick brought donuts by. He was headed to his mom’s for a morning meeting and took an out-of-the-way detour.”

  Jane sized him up again. His clothes looked slept in, true. But she was positive he hadn’t been wearing a hunting-vest-orange T-shirt yesterday, so the odds of him having slept here were slightly diminished. She recognized the irony of worrying about that considering how many times she parked it at Jake’s.

  But…since he wasn’t going to let her do that anymore…

  Wendy passed her a coffee cup and the box of donuts. Jane took a bear claw and tried to pull herself back to the matter at hand.

  “Nick, you’re Christiana Malachi’s son, right?”

  “Yup.” He sat down with a thump.

  “I’m doing her housecleaning.”

  “Oh, yeah? Want a ride over there?”

  “No, I’m not going in today. I was just saying.”

  Nick shrugged.

  “How is she holding up?”

  “As well as can be expected.” He dunked his cruller into his coffee and took a soggy bite. After a moment he spoke again. “Actually, she’s a wreck. The love of her life was murdered, and now it looks like there is going to be a hostile takeover with the ministry.”