She fiddled in the kitchen as long as she could, and then decided to hide away in the mudroom. If she got some laundry going, and stayed around to fold it, she could honestly sit in that small space for as long as she wanted. The view to the sitting room was pretty good with the door cracked, and the sound of the washer and dryer in action might distract from the fact that she was sitting right there.
It might also make it impossible to forget she was still here, but it was her only feasible option.
Fortunately there was plenty of laundry piled up. Apparently it was her job to do it. She got the washing machine running, and then settled into the boot bench and waited and prayed. By the time she heard Christiana greet Tiffany, she had put the first load into the dryer.
The soft thumping of the tumbling clothes was the perfect sound to hide her imperfect ability to be silent.
Jane nudged the door open a little more with her toe. From where she sat she had a limited view of Christiana, but Lucas and Tiffany were right in her line of sight, and, fortunately, not looking her direction.
“Theo has it.” Tiffany’s voice was soft, but Jane could see enough of her face to make out her words.
“Has what?” Christiana looked ready to conquer the world; her blonde hair was styled, and her lips were red and shiny. She was even wearing heels, but her voice was very tired.
Lucas cleared his throat. “We’re trying to get you ready for the revival. And after speaking to your son this morning, I think we know what happened to our missing stock.”
“Good.” Christiana sat down by the fireplace, and now all Jane could see were her legs, in what appeared to be creamy wool slacks and alligator pumps. She yawned. “Have Francine make sure it’s all ready for me.”
“Are you sure?” Tiffany asked.
“Am I sure about what?” Christiana snapped.
Jane squinted, wishing she could see the widow better. What was going on with her face? What was going through her mind?
“Are you sure you want to do this event? You know we could do it for you.”
“Yes. I’m sure.” Her words were clipped and dismissive.
Lucas cleared his throat. “The thing is, we had this idea…”
“Not now.”
Jane was reminded of the curt tones of the gypsy, but the odd contrast didn’t make her happy. Yana had been hiding something, fraud, probably. Was that what drove Christiana’s clipped tones too?
“It’s getting close, and we have a wonderful event all planned. We think Josiah would really like it.” Tiffany rolled towards Christiana in what was becoming a familiar move. Close in, connect, offer a hand. Were her moves scripted, or did she just have a way about her?
“This event is not yours to plan.” Christiana stood up.
“No, of course not,” Lucas said. “But we thought we should help you through this challenging time.”
Christiana sighed and walked into Jane’s line of vision. “I don’t need help.” She left without another word.
When the sound of Christiana’s footsteps on the stairs died away, Tiffany spoke. “Well, that didn’t go well, did it?”
“There’s always tomorrow, kiddo.” Lucas pushed his wife into the kitchen.
The showdown had been fast and painless, unfortunately. And all Jane had gotten from it was that Tiffany had predictable responses, Christiana seemed to be hiding things, and Lucas liked to call his wife cute diminutives.
And for that hard-earned but useless knowledge, Jane had a big pile of laundry to get through.
Jane watched them head back to their car and then turned back to her folding. Those two were so in love, both with each other and with God. She just hoped, and would start praying, that God would show them the light. Help them see that the way Josiah Malachi did things was wrong.
She looked up from her folding one more time. Lucas was shutting the hatchback, presumably after putting the wheelchair in it.
Tiffany was bent over, smelling a flower by the driveway.
Lucas got in the car and started it.
Tiffany stood up with a jolt and ran to the car. She let herself in, laughing.
Wait.
What?
Twenty
Jake had been scarce lately, and it was driving Jane nuts not to have him to bounce her worries off of. She was in knots over what she had seen Tiffany do the day before.
When she got back to her apartment after a late cleaning client and found he had set up a romantic dinner for just the two of them—he had even gotten rid of Gemma—her spirits lifted significantly. Jake had brought flowers, lowered the lights, and cooked something that smelled Italian.
She was desperate for his company, and his opinion on Tiffany’s sudden ability to run.
Jane had played the scene over and over again in her mind.
Tiffany had been smelling a flower by the driveway. Lucas had gotten in the car and started it, without helping her to her seat.
When she heard the car start, she had turned and run. Sure, it was just a few steps, but she didn’t have her braces on, and seemed to have a surprising fluidity of movement. But, Jane reminded herself, she didn’t know the particulars of Tiffany’s condition. All she knew was that she used the chair when fatigued and the braces all the other times. Maybe she had woken up tired, but felt better by the time they left.
Jake had greeted her at the door in an apron with an icy cup of lemonade. She wanted to sit him down and talk about Lucas and Tiffany right off, but she really needed a shower first. If she was going to ruin the mood of the date by talking shop, she at least wanted to smell good.
Jake had accommodated her need by heading out to get some dessert.
After the shower Jane felt human again, and pretty, and much more in the mood for the atmosphere Jake had created. She peeked in the oven and was thrilled to see a takeout from Nona Amelia’s warming.
By the time Jake knocked on the door, Jane was completely in the mood to canoodle.
He didn’t just let himself in, though, so Jane opened it with a flirty smile.
“Jane.” Nick Rizzo ran his hands through his hair nervously.
Jane stared at Christiana’s ridiculously good-looking oldest son. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was ashen.
“I was just over at Wendy’s place when I got this text from Francine, and, um…” He held out his phone. “She said no one can find Theo anywhere. He’s completely gone.” He turned his phone around again and looked at it. “He hasn’t been seen since yesterday. We’re headed over to Mom’s now, but Wendy said I should get you first. Can you come? Would you come?”
Jane turned back to the kitchen, where the aromatic dinner was waiting for her. Jake would probably understand… “Jake was just here and ran out again. Can I call him real fast, before we go?”
Nick shook his head, but said, “Yes, of course…”
Jane opened the door wider and let Nick in. She grabbed her phone and called Jake right away.
“Hey, baby,” he crooned.
“I’ve got to run, Jake, I’m so sorry. Theo has gone missing and Nick is here. They want my help.”
“I want your help, too.” His voice was suggestive and silly at the same time.
“I’m not playing, I promise. Nick seems really distressed. How far away are you?”
“I’m in line. I’m just about ready to bring home the best dobosh torte you have ever tasted. And that’s not even a double entendre. It’s a really, really good dobosh torte. From Rose’s.”
“But—wait, Rose’s closed.”
“Not in East Vancouver.”
“How far away are you?” The blood all rushed out of Jane’s head. If he was in East Vancouver, there was no way he could get back in time to come with her.
“I didn’t set my tripometer, Janey, but I’d say about twenty minutes away, if I drive like I’m from Washington.”
“But why did you go so far away? I—I…” She tried to think of a reason he shouldn’t have gone so far away. She d
id tell him she wanted a shower and to get dressed. Probably wise to give himself an hour of something to do so he wouldn’t risk coming back too early.
“I may not always be able to get you the best, Jane.” He coughed, always a little bit melodramatic. “But today I can, so I will.”
“Babe, you’re awesome, but I need to go.” Jane peeked around the corner. Nick was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. “Actually, I think I can stall him. But hurry, okay?”
“As you wish.”
Jane ended the call and joined Nick.
“Tell me where you’ve looked for your brother.” She hated trying to listen to conversations after the fact, so she skipped trying to record the interview on her phone or computer and turned to her trusty notepad and pencil again. She was a visual person, and that was just how it was.
“He’s not at home, and he’s not at the hotel.”
“Does he have any local friends? Someone from the task force he might have gotten to know?”
“No, not at all. He avoids them like the plague. Can’t stand anyone who believes in what Mom and Josiah teach.”
“Even you?”
“He makes an exception for me because we’re brothers. Plus, he thinks he can convince me they’re wrong.”
“Can he?”
Nick cleared his throat. “It’s not about Josiah, or Mom, or any of that. It’s about what God is doing, and I am trying my best to be discerning and to follow God above all.” His shoulders were hunched and his face defeated, as though his personal goal was much harder to achieve than he hoped.
“I’m glad.” Jane spoke softly, trying to comfort him. Surely someone whose whole goal was to please God and discern his will would be able to accomplish that, no matter what kind of family he had found himself stuck in. “Why do you think Theo left?”
“I don’t think he left.” His voice was deep, but he spoke like a broken man, ragged words, pain in his eyes.
Jane swallowed. “Tell me what you are thinking.” She steeled herself for the worst.
“Robert came over yesterday afternoon looking for Francine. She wasn’t there, but Theo was. I heard Theo and Robert fighting. I was upstairs, but I could hear it. I head something—I don’t know—crash, or break, or something. It was getting out of hand, so I came downstairs.” He took a deep breath. “It only took me a second, but when I got there, they were gone.”
“What had broken?”
“The kitchen window.”
“What?”
“The kitchen window over the sink was shattered. There was glass everywhere.”
“Inside the house?”
“Yeah.”
“So Robert and Theo’s fighting couldn’t have done it. It was something from outside coming in.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Nick furrowed his brow. “But why?”
“What did the police say?”
“We haven’t called the police.”
“Okay.” Jane tapped her paper with the pencil. “So when you got downstairs the guys were gone and there was a broken window. Do you think they went outside to find out what had happened?”
“Yeah, of course. Of course. But when I went out, they weren’t there.”
“What did you do next? Who else have you talked to?”
“Just Mom and Francine, but when I showed Mom the window, she went up to bed.” He scowled. “She told me to call the landlord to fix it, and then just went back upstairs.”
“She wasn’t curious about what had done it?”
“I think she was just overwhelmed. I’m a grown man; I guess she figured I could handle it.”
“Who else did you talk to?”
“Francine. I didn’t have the landlord’s number, so I called her.”
Jane nodded. It made sense. And he was right; he was an adult fully capable of calling about a broken window. And maybe his mom really was completely overwhelmed and couldn’t deal with it right off. But if someone had broken her kitchen window, Jane would have wanted to find out why or how, at the least. “So…what did Francine say?”
“Francine said to relax. She said she’d take care of it all. She said that if Theo was with Robert, I shouldn’t be worried. But that was a day and a half ago.”
Jane chewed her lip. It seemed like an overreaction…they really hadn’t been gone long. Portland was a good town to disappear in if you needed privacy. He could be anywhere and be perfectly safe. “Nick…are you sure there’s a problem? He hasn’t been gone all that long.”
“I think there is. When I followed them outside, both of their cars were still there, but there was no sign of either of them. I looked everywhere, the shed, up and down the street. Everywhere I could think of. It was like they had just disappeared.”
“Or like they had been driven away by someone else.”
“Exactly.”
“And you are worried about who that might have been.”
“Whoever it was thought breaking the window was a better way to get attention than just knocking on the door.”
A rock settled in Jane’s gut. “You’re right. But why didn’t you call the police?”
“You have to be missing longer than this for the police to care.”
“When you went back inside, you looked all over the kitchen to find the thing that broke the window, right?”
“Of course.” Nick shifted in his seat and pulled a rock out of his pocket. It was about the size of a small baking potato, and it was polished. He turned it over in his hand. The top had been engraved “Ebenezer.”
“Gift shop.” Jane said it under her breath. She had seen decorative stuff like this at Christian bookstores and gift shops. But it was the kind of thing a grandma would buy, or maybe a mom. Not a thug.
“We sell these at events. A rock to set up as a memorial to the day that God moved in your life.”
“So it was a message.” Jane held out her hand. “May I see it?”
Nick passed her the rock.
“Would anyone know offhand when this was sold?” The cold, smooth rock was heavy in her hand.
“No, they all look the same.”
“Could it have been purchased the night of the murder?”
“Yeah, if they bought it beforehand.”
“So the killer could have purchased it with the idea in mind of using it later, after the murder.”
“Could have.”
“Are these proprietary? Like, are you the only ones who sell them?” She turned it over in her hand, looking for some kind of copyright or something, but she couldn’t find marks at all.
“I don’t know. Francine would know.”
“Okay…” Jane checked her phone again. Jake was maybe getting closer, if he was driving fast. “Why don’t you call Francine, tell her you’re here. Tell her we’re coming, but we’re waiting for Jake. In the meantime, have you eaten?” Her stomach had started begging for the dinner she could smell, but wasn’t going to be able to eat. “I could fix you a plate.”
“No.” Nick’s attention was on his phone.
Jane made herself a plate. She didn’t know the name of the dinner, but it was little round noodley things with red sauce and cheese. The noodley things were solid, like tiny dumplings. They stood up well to the long wait in the oven. She sliced herself a piece of crusty Italian bread as well, and dipped it in the sauce.
What had Theo gotten himself mixed up in?
He was safe with Robert…protection was Robert’s thing. He wouldn’t let Theo get hurt.
Except they had been fighting. What about? And how had the decorative-rock thrower been able to overpower both of them?
Jane cleaned her plate and helped herself to seconds. No point trying to solve the problem on an empty stomach.
Shortly after Jane finished her second plateful, Jake let himself in. He dropped a bakery box on the breakfast bar and grabbed a piece of the garlic bread. “Eat something, Nick. You look awful.” He tossed the bread to his friend and grabbed another for himself. “Glad to see
you had a bite, Jane. Now, who is waiting for us and where?”
“Francine, at Mom’s house. Let’s go.” Nick jumped to his feet, not noticing the piece of garlic bread that fell to the floor. His body practically quivered with nervous energy.
Jane followed the boys out to the car so she could watch Nick and Jake interact. He seemed more confident with Jake around, which, while not flattering, meant waiting had been a good idea. But he was so physically moved by his missing brother that Jane had some new idea of how horrifying the unexplained loss of their sister had been.
And poor Theo, who never had gotten an explanation from his parents.
Twenty-One
Francine paced the living room of the rental house while Christiana reclined on the sofa with a cold rag over her head. They were alone, and spoke in lowered tones. Jane didn’t want to announce her arrival. She wanted to watch them interact. There was a distance between them, but not the coldness or the hatred she had expected after listening to Francine describe things.
Christiana lifted her hand and waved it, as though dismissing a subject.
Francine’s mouth turned down at the corners, and her eyes were deeply shadowed.
However, Jake pushed his way through the door and broke the quiet picture of worry. “Ladies, I’m Jake, Jane’s boyfriend and Nick’s old camp friend. A happy coincidence, I know. You say Theo and Robert went missing yesterday afternoon?”
Christiana sat up and held out a hand to Nick, ignoring the loud voice of the stranger who had come in with her son. “I’m so glad you came back, sweetheart.”
Nick took her hand and squeezed it. He pushed aside a velvet pillow and sat next to his mom. “No word yet?”
Jane let them talk and went into the kitchen. The glass had been swept, and there was a piece of cardboard over the broken window. Nothing on the counters had been disturbed. She wanted to find a piece of paper, some kind of note that may have been attached to the rock and fallen off, but she saw nothing.
Health, Wealth, and Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 4) Page 14