Dirty Little Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 2)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  She ran back to the hall bath and double checked, but the tile under that hamper had no signs of wear, either.

  She just hadn’t been cleaning the Swanson house long enough to be certain that things were exactly as they always had been.

  But if she was Caramel, had taken a dip with her hubby, drowned him, and then hidden the towels, etc., she would have washed them and put them back in the closet by now, anyway.

  Jane thought back to the incident.

  Caramel had come up the front driveway. She had been fully dressed, without the slightest hint of having been wet recently. Jane shook her head. She couldn’t have been the person who had jumped out of the hot tub, hidden in the closet, then removed the signs of having been there before the cops arrived. As threatening as Caramel seemed, she hadn’t had enough time to hide the evidence, dry off, do her hair and makeup, and get dressed… and so couldn’t be the killer.

  Jane went to the linen closet and loaded up on bath towels and washcloths. She checked for the missing hamper, but the closet was strictly towels and sheets.

  Jane stocked the shelves and debated her next move. Without any reason to truly suspect the lover, she decided not to report the phone to Detective Bryce. Instead, she cleaned it very carefully with Windex and a rag. Then holding it very carefully so that her fingers only went where they might go if they had picked up a phone they found under the bed, she set it on the dresser. That would let Caramel know she had found it.

  Darcy and Pemberly. Did the lover call herself Elizabeth?

  It had been a long time since Jane had read Pride and Prejudice. Wasn’t there another potential lover for Darcy in the story? That didn’t matter. She needed to think like a detective. In loco situ.

  It was time to go back to the scene of the crime.

  She ran to the basement taking the stairs two at a time.

  She flipped on all the lights and took in the room. If she had drowned Douglas Swanson in the hot tub, what would she have done next?

  Jane moved to the hot tub. Say she had been in the tub and heard someone coming down the hall. Jane scoped the room. Jane opened the closet door and stepped in.

  The killer may have stayed in there until she heard Jane leave again. Maybe even until she heard the alarm go off. Then, she would have known she had to leave.

  The killer would have looked to the door to see if anyone was coming, and seen the towels.

  Jane went to the door and pantomimed dumping the towels in the hamper, and picking up the hamper. Then she ran to the sliding door, her arms still up like she had the hamper in them. She pushed the door open and stood on the patio.

  There was a fenced-off square about four yards from the patio, where the garbage and recycling bins were stored. Jane went there… but no. It had a gate in addition to the lids on the bins. If the alarm was going off and the killer was in panic mode, she wouldn’t have wanted to go through all of that. Where else could she have gone?

  Jane scanned the property. The outbuildings were across the open field. The nearest house was on the other side of the white horse fence. No place to hide.

  But there were landscaped plantings with bushes and trees scattered here and there between the Swanson house and the forested area on the other side. Was there enough cover to duck and run in that direction? Jane acted it out.

  She made it in about three minutes.

  She stopped at the fence. Once in the woods the killer would have been hidden, but if she had stayed there, the police would have found her.

  Jane went back to the basement. When she was done putting the guest rooms together, she’d drive around to the street behind the Swanson property and see where the killer could have run to.

  By the time the dryer buzzer went off, she had finished putting the bedrooms and bathrooms back together.

  Jane stood by the back door, considering what she had gotten out of the day.

  More information about Douglas’s less-than-faithful love life.

  A good idea on where the killer could have gone.

  A strong sense of satisfaction for taking the situation in hand.

  She could work with those things.

  Jane texted a quick message to Caramel telling her the job was done, and then left to scope out the neighborhood for hidey holes where the killer could have stashed the hamper, or sally ports the killer could have escaped through.

  The Swansons’ neighborhood was pocked with small ponds and woods, but it was made up primarily of two to five-acre, suburban horse property parcels. An airy sense of open space was the primary feeling Jane had as she drove through.

  Though on a regular day a person could wander the fields without being noticed, a wet person, likely in a bathing suit, running with a clothes hamper, and looked for—if the police had been looking, which Jane wasn’t entirely sure—would have been easily spotted.

  After driving around the community two times, Jane was sure that the killer had had to stay in the woods until dark.

  Which meant the cops had not been in pursuit, despite the questionable nature of the death.

  Which meant they thought that either she or Caramel had done it.

  At least, that’s the best idea she could come up with.

  18

  Jane sat at a red light. She exhaled. She needed to talk through the information she’d just gathered. She needed someone smart, but more than that, she needed someone who was interested in the case. Gemma was smart, but distracted by her guest. Holly was interested, but Jane doubted she had the kind of wits to draw the right conclusions. Paula had her own troubles to worry about.

  Kaitlyn was sharp, fast, and invested in the cause. Jane turned left when the light changed and headed straight to the mall. Maybe she could catch Kaitlyn on a break.

  Kaitlyn did take a break. She and Jane found a quiet table toward the back of the food court.

  “I had the Swanson house to myself this afternoon, and I found a pay-as-you-go cell phone at Caramel’s in one of the bedrooms. It had a couple pictures of Douglas on it, in bed of course, and a few texts about meeting places.”

  “Caramel’s phone?”

  “I think not. The pictures were of Douglas, but the texts came from someone called “Darcy” and the person responding to them asked if they were going to meet at “Pemberly.” I think it belonged to his lover.”

  “Ew!” Kaitlyn scrunched up her mouth.

  “I think she called him ‘Darcy’ on the phone because she was beneath him socially.”

  “Just like in the book.” Kaitlyn sipped her bubble tea.

  “Yup. I think he met this lady at work, for sure. And he was in charge of her ,one way or the other. So here’s the thing. The phone wasn’t dead, so it couldn’t have been lying there for very long. Whoever dropped it, dropped it recently.”

  “Like recently enough to have been the killer?” Kaitlyn’s eyes popped.

  “It could be. I don’t know what to make of it, but I know I need to keep it in mind.” Jane sketched her ideas on a napkin as she spoke.

  “So, if we can trace the phone, we can find the killer now, right?”

  “We can’t trace a phone but I do think it had to be this lover. It just had to be.” Jane wrote The Maid on her napkin.

  “Unless of course the murderer was Caramel,” Kaitlyn said.

  “The timing was all wrong; it couldn’t have been her.” Jane wrote No Wet Hair.

  “Who else is there?”

  “Danae Monroe, the maid. She has a long history with Douglas and could be the lover, but she’s been on vacation. So she’s got an alibi.” Jane bit her lip. That vacation alibi was killing her. If she could prove Danae was in town, she could solve the case today.

  “Then why mention her?”

  “Because the cops are looking for her, but can’t find her. If she was really on vacation like she’s supposed to be, she’d be easy to find.” Jane drew a fat question mark on the napkin. Where was Danae Monroe?

  “She gets my vote for lover, sin
ce she’s got a history with him and is beneath him socially, but how could the phone still be all charged up if she has been on vacation?” Kaitlyn set her paper cup on the table and leaned forward, her voice low. “Do you think he had two lovers?”

  Jane frowned. “He could have, but he was kind of old… you know? But think about this… the phone was turned off when I found it. But it was pay-as-you-go and it still had plenty of days left on its account. It hadn’t been there too long, but it was out of minutes, so if someone knew it was missing, they couldn’t really call it to make it ring so they could find it.”

  “She might have bought one of those cards that keeps your phone active for a whole year.” Kaitlyn was counting things off on her fingers as she spoke. “Then she would have had days on it, but no minutes left, and it could have been lying under the bed for any length of time.”

  “Except the most recent text was from right before the death. So I think the phone could easily belong to the killer. Unless it doesn’t.”

  “In which case, we need to find out who was at odds with Douglas.”

  “And that makes me think of this Joe guy.” Jane tapped her pen on the table.

  “Who’s Joe?”

  “Caramel’s brother. He sold her a big, shiny ring to replace the one she lost. Douglas was mad about it, and sounded like he didn’t like him.” Jane wrote Ring on the paper. The ring was one thing she hadn’t resolved yet, but it seemed important. “The other day I heard Caramel on the phone with him, and she said he should stay away. Maybe he needs to stay away because he killed Douglas.”

  “Would Caramel protect the brother that killed her husband?” Kaitlyn sounded horrified.

  “He was a cheating husband. Maybe she hired him to do it?”

  “I have to get back to work, Jane. You have to get back to work, too. Find out why Joe should stay away from the house, and find out where this Danae has been.”

  “You make it sound so easy.” Jane sucked in a breath. She wished she could do that. Just a quick search through a few private databases, putting a trail on a credit card. Following the calls from a cell phone. She’d have this case solved in a snap if she had some resources or some training.

  “You’ll figure out a way.”

  “Quick, before you go. Do you think Amy could have done it?” Jane folded her napkin and slipped it in her purse.

  “Could have killed her dad? What a horrible thought.”

  “He divorced her mom, cheated on her stepmom, who she seems to like, and sold her horses. Maybe she was really, really mad?” Jane was on the edge of her seat, quivering with excitement.

  Kaitlyn stopped. “Maybe she walked in on her dad and yet another lover and killed him in a fit of rage? She is a redhead.”

  Jane laughed. “Hair color is not a motive!”

  “Ack, my break is over. I have got to go, like, five minutes ago. Call me though, okay?”

  “Will do.” Jane stood up. Tomorrow morning, she’d be back at the Swanson house again. Almost unlimited access to the house and family. If she could just figure out the right way to use her advantage, she could figure out who killed Douglas.

  It had been several days since Jake had called, so when his text for grabbing some lunch came through, Jane took him up on it.

  They met at the last Roly Burger in Portland, one Jane suspected that Jake owned. Her stomach was fluttery. Jake was a bit off limits—a friend, but a friend who threatened her composure more often than not.

  A friend her absentee boyfriend might not want her to be eating with. She filled her paper cup with a caffeine-free soda. New murder suspects and lunch with Jake made her shaky enough.

  “Don’t you wonder where I’ve been?” Jake took a bite of his thick burger.

  “No.” Jane sipped her soda. “Once or twice, tops. I’ve been a little busy finishing my degree and working.”

  “How normal of you.” Jake wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Jane passed him a napkin. “Now’s where you tell me you joined the secret service and foiled an assassination attempt all by yourself?”

  “Nope.”

  “Moved to Russia and studied ballet?”

  Jake’s eyes sparkled.

  Jane’s heart fluttered. It was a fun game, that’s all. “You traveled with the circus?”

  “Getting colder.” Jake finished the last of his burger.

  “You spent the whole year studying for your food handler’s license?”

  Jake tossed his burger wrapper into the garbage can across the room. “Nothin’ but net.”

  “Okay. Where were you?”

  Jake smirked. “There is no way you will ever guess.”

  “Then tell.” The flutters abandoned Jane and were replaced by annoyance.

  “Thailand.”

  Beaches, jungles, pineapples. Girls. Lots and lots of girls shopped around to the highest bidder. The heat drained from Jane’s face. “Not really?” She pushed her drink cup away. “You wouldn’t have.”

  “I did. It was a-maze-ing. You should have been there.” Jake’s smile was self-satisfied.

  Jane looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Don’t you want to hear about my time in paradise?”

  “Not really.”

  “You would never believe the scene there. Seriously passionate.”

  “Please stop.” Jane’s stomach turned. She couldn’t make eye contact with Jake.

  “You would have loved it, Janey. I was there with ten great guys.”

  “Stop.” Jane interrupted him.

  “Will you just listen? Jeesh. You’d think I went kitten hunting or something.” Jake’s face was clear and happy still.

  Jane sat back in her chair. He either felt no guilt, or had nothing to feel guilty about. She was curious which one it was.

  “We started in the city, but ended up in this little village in the hills. There was a doctor there who would send us to the city for three nights at a time. We’d each try and find a girl and bring her back.”

  Jane’s stomach turned. She looked down at her hands. She shouldn’t have hoped for a good story, but why this?

  Jake paused, a dreamy look taking over his face. “Sometimes they ran away again, but we saved ten girls last year. Can you imagine? Ten kids pulled out of the cities, safe from trafficking.”

  “Wait, what?” Jane leaned forward, her breath caught.

  “A rescue mission. I would have stayed there forever if I could have.”

  “A rescue mission?”

  “You’re slow, Jane. I thought you had your finger on the pulse of missions.”

  “I do.” Jane’s voice rose in consternation.

  “Ending trafficking. It’s the new big thing.”

  “But this was a Christian mission thing?”

  “Christian mission thing?” Jake raised an eyebrow. “You sound both surprised and confused.”

  “Did you just spend a year as a missionary, Jacob Crawford?” Jane’s heart was going a mile a minute. She wanted to smack the smug look off his face, but not before he answered a few simple questions.

  “Yes. Yes, I did. I spent a year with Daughters of Rahab. We bought girls for the night and snuck them back to a village that I can’t name—not even to you—where the doctor got them all their shots, a teacher worked on their basic school stuff, and a few ladies taught them about Jesus. I want to go back forever, frankly.”

  Jane chewed her lip. This development had knocked her speechless.

  “The 10/40 window is so yesterday. It’s all about Thailand, now. And…” he lifted his eyebrow, and smiled, “the mission needs trained Bible teachers, like, yesterday.”

  Jane shook her head. “First of all, until poverty is eradicated in the two-thirds world, and the gospel is preached in all those Muslim countries, the “10/40 window” will be an urgent mission field.”

  “Yup. You’re right. Second most urgent mission field in the world.”

  Jane shook her head. “But… I have to
ask. Don’t you have to apply, be accepted, and like, be a Christian to be a missionary?”

  “That stings, Jane. It hurts right here.” Jake patted his chest. “Did I not sit through chapel at Presbyterian Prep once a week for four years, just like you?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “I sat through most of them.”

  “But sitting through chapel doesn’t make you saved.” Jane furrowed her eyebrows. When she had last spent significant time with Jake, he had been in a perpetual hungover fog. Not the usual sign of someone who was hungry to preach the gospel.

  “Jane.” Jake frowned. The color rose in his face. “You really don’t think I’m ‘saved’?”

  “I—” Jane stared at him. He was steaming. She shook her head. “Why should I think it?”

  “I just spent a year in the Wild West doing things I never thought possible. I didn’t know I had to come see you with a prepared testimony in hand.”

  “You don’t. I just… I haven’t seen you in a year, and when I last saw you, you weren’t thinking about any of this.”

  “Because my parents had just been murdered.”

  “I know. But before that…”

  “Not everyone leaps from their parents’ head as a forty year old, Jane. I was a normal teenager. It doesn’t mean I didn’t love God.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so surprised.”

  “Your vote of confidence means the world to me.” Jake looked away.

  Jane opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it. What was there to say?

  “Do you know what I thought the whole time I was gone?”

  Jane shrugged.

  “I thought, ‘I would give my left arm to have Jane here with me.’”

  “But why?”

  He smiled just with the corner of his mouth.

  “Jake…”

  “Don’t tell me you’d rather have Professor Boyfriend than a life with me, in the jungle, doing amazing things for God.”

  Jane watched his face carefully. He had this thing with his eyes; they were so sincere, but his smile was so teasing. She couldn’t tell what was behind it. And for her own part? Nothing.

  She felt nothing as she looked at him.