Killer Calling: A Plain Jane Mystery (A Cozy Christian Collection) (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 7)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  Ginger shook her head. “Only girls. Men have to be taught to lead. The girls need to learn a spirit of quiet and humility.”

  Jane swallowed a shudder. Not that she didn’t think people in general would improve with a spirit of quiet and humility, but the way that Ginger parroted the response as though it was memorized, and the way that the little boys were called men . . . it made Jane’s skin crawl. “Do all of the families follow his . . . creative techniques?”

  “Not yet, but he’s been meeting with the other dads, praying together, mentoring and stuff. He raised a big family back home before he came here. So he knows his stuff.”

  Tory sat up, catching Jane’s eye. “What time is it?” she asked, with a yawn.

  Jane checked her phone. “Nine.”

  Tory flopped back down again without a word.

  “Are Pat’s grown up kids still in America?”

  “Oh, they’re all over. Some are missionaries!” She grinned huge, clearly proud of the Bromfield clan.

  “What about their mom?” Jane asked.

  Ginger narrowed her eyes. “She left him. That’s when he came here. Nursing his broken heart.”

  “Were you here back then?” Riley wasn’t playing Jane’s game. Her question was full of disbelief.

  “No.” Ginger shrugged. “But he gives—gave—his testimony a lot. Pretty much every Friday at chapel with the volunteers.”

  “Ahh.” Riley managed to sound like she knew what was really going on. Jane only wished she had that confidence.

  “So sad that you all lost Claude and Pat. That leaves two big, empty holes here at the orphanage.” Jane spoke low and smooth, trying to keep Ginger from catching on to Riley’s attitude.

  Ginger sighed sadly. “It really does. A good father is gone, and a dear laborer. Claude was tireless in his efforts for the kids.”

  The group of girls she had been talking with spread out to their various bunks, some to read, some to pray, probably some to text boys back home. Ginger rolled a sleeping bag out on an empty bunk. “I’ll be staying with you all for the next few nights. Just until they figure things out.” She popped earbuds in, her contribution to the evening over.

  Riley reverted to a whisper. “It’s a culture of abuse, Jane. These poor kids. Mr. Rodriguez won’t do anything about it. He’s probably part of it.”

  “I don’t like the sound of it either, but let’s hold off on making a judgment yet. I think we should talk to some of the housemothers and see what they say first.”

  “Should we split them up between us?”

  Jane gave Riley a quick once over. The young missionary wasn’t subtle, that was for sure, but she was motivated, and not already committed to shadowing a shady teen. “I have something else I am supposed to do—its possibly related—do you think you can try and talk to two or three women tomorrow and report back? We’ll see if I can talk to the rest after it, but I have to—”

  “You have to keep stalking that rock star?” She gave Jane the same kind of look she had given Ginger.

  “We’ve been that obvious?” Jane sucked in her cheeks, disappointed. “I’ll tell you all about it but not yet.” She wasn’t whispering, since whispers carried better than extremely quiet voices.

  Riley looked impressed. “We need a secret meeting place tomorrow.” Her bright blue eyes were wide with excitement and she quivered like a plucked bow.

  “Let me figure it out. I’ll tell you the plan during breakfast. In the meantime . . .”

  “I’ll be cool, and I’ll go to bed.” She bounced out of Jane’s bunk and across the dorm to the side where her team was bunking. as excited as a child on Christmas Eve.

  Perhaps Riley was exactly what Jane’s investigation needed.

  Jane looked over at Tory. Tory was staring at her through narrowed eyes, the cord to her earphones in her hand, not plugged into any kind of device at all.

  7

  Jane could only assume that Tory had heard everything. She prayed throughout the night, her fitful sleep good for that at least. She needed to figure out how to smooth the situation over. Should she sit down with Tory and Chase and explain in all honesty? Should she ignore what Tory had heard and keep up her undercover thing? Should she give some half-truths—or half of the whole truth? Somewhere in between?

  Her aversion to lying made her want to bare it all, perhaps even to the whole team, but the idea that her boss wouldn’t like that nagged at her. At first light she ran to the bathroom, locked herself in and called Flora. For once, Flora answered.

  “Listen, I’ve got a problem.” Jane laid out the situation with the dead body and Tory hearing the conversation.

  For a moment, Flora was silent. “I was sure hoping this wasn’t a drug cartel kind of job. If I had had any reason for concern, I wouldn’t have sent you. Rocky and I would have gone.” Her voice held a tone of disappointment. Whether from putting a new detective in danger or from missing the adventure, Jane wasn’t sure.

  “But what do I do about Tory?”

  “Your instincts are good, if a bit extreme. No need to sit the whole team down, since you’ve been dying to go into missionary work your whole life, but it’s time to talk to Tory like an adult. You and Jake and Chase and Tory need to find some alone time and discuss the job her father hired you for.”

  The idea repulsed Jane, even though she had also thought of it. It tasted too much like failure. “Are you sure? We were really starting to get somewhere.”

  “You called me for my experience and wisdom, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then don’t talk back. I’m old enough to be your grandmother, and I have seen a few things in life. Get them alone as soon as you can.”

  Jane scratched her head. Alone would be hard considering the situation. “And if I can’t?”

  “Then you have a hostile teenager possibly selling drugs, and probably also have a murderer on the loose. I would personally not let ‘can’t’ be an option.”

  “Yes, of course.” Jane sent up a quickie prayer to that end. “Flora, I’m not sure what I am doing here.”

  “You’re finding out what Tory and Chase are up to, and you are about to sit down and ask them directly. We don’t mess around with murderers.”

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  “I’ll be praying for you. Rocky can be there in two days, if you need him. If things feel out of your control, tell me. This case has a big expense account. Mr. Trives would do anything for his daughter.”

  “Thank you. I’ll keep in touch.” Jane took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She did not need Rocky Wilson to come rescue her.

  The director of the orphanage and his wife came personally to let the volunteers out of the dorms. Nadine, the director’s wife, was a lovely woman with a shiny silver streak in her hair. Her big blue eyes were shadowed with sadness, but her warm smile seemed to offer that motherly comfort that everyone wanted. She reached her hands out to the ladies in their dorm. “We are so sorry that your visit with us has been touched with tragedy, but also so glad that if we have to go through this, we have such a kind, international family of God to grieve with us. Come, let’s have breakfast together.” Something about her words felt like a benediction and a state speech and welcome all at the same time. The girls seemed to rush forward, like children to their own mother, and followed her into the cafeteria.

  Jane hung back and counted heads, making sure she didn’t lose track of Tory or Ginger or Riley.

  There seemed to be no tension between Jake and Chase as they entered the cafeteria together, but they took seats at opposite ends of the room. Jane settled herself next to her husband.

  He leaned in to kiss her neck and whisper sweet nothings.

  Jane responded to his affection with a conspiratorial whisper.“We have to get Tory and Chase alone. She’s onto us.”

  Jake groaned, low in his throat, “Have I ever told you how hot it is to be married to a detective?”

  She blushed and scooted away a bit
.

  He leaned in one more time. “Nab Tory after breakfast and drag her behind the preschool. I’ll meet you there with Chase.”

  Jane nodded and filled her plate with scrambled eggs, beans, and a few orange slices. Nab Tory? Easier said than done, but she’d try.

  “Buenos días.” Miguel took his place at the front of the room. “I don’t have job assignments today, but I do have directions. The policia are still doing interviews and working in the area. I do not know where the investigation stands and cannot answer any question about it. I can tell you that there are three places you are welcome to be until they give us more information: the volunteer lounge, the cafeteria, and the chapel. We will do our best to communicate with you all clearly and quickly, but . . .” He looked around slowly, making eye contact with many of the people, and took a deep breath. “I want you all to keep your papers on you at all times. Do not release them to anyone. Not the police, not staff. We have photo copies of all of your entrance documents in our safe. Your team leaders have photo copies in their possession. If anyone needs to see anything, they can see our copies. Please take this seriously. Do not give up your papers. If someone demands it, refer them to staff.” He cleared his throat. “This is a new situation for us. We have not faced anything like this before. It is of extreme importance that you do not go alone anywhere right now. Limit yourselves to the bathrooms attached to the three spaces the police have okayed for your use. Don’t go to your dorms until we get the all clear. Don’t go from room to room alone.” He looked from table to table, then gave a weak smile. “If nothing else, you will have stories to tell for the rest of your lives.” On that note, he got up and left. No questions, no prayer.

  He seemed, frankly, terrified.

  Jake stayed close to Jane in the line to bus their plates. “Trust me. We need to meet behind the preschool. Don’t freak out.”

  “Of course not.” Sometimes she was opposed to lying, and sometimes she lied through her teeth. The police said there were three places they were allowed to be and grassy patch behind the preschool was not one of them.

  “Tory. Hey, Tory,” Jane called from behind. Tory had been avoiding Jane all morning.

  Tory turned, a frown on her face.

  “Wait up.”

  Tory gripped Chase’s arm, but stood still.

  “Can you come with me, for just a second? I have something I need to explain,” she said as soon as she was in whispering distance.

  Tory turned to Chase, her brow furrowed.

  Chase shrugged.

  “Fine.” The one word came from between Tory’s gritted teeth.

  Tory’s body language reflected exactly what Jane was feeling as they scuttled to their designated spot. Shoulders high, head constantly flicking glances backwards to see if anyone was watching them. Steps stiff, but fast. Scared was a good word for the look. Terrified was the actual feeling.

  The two women leaned against the wall of the preschool, catching their breath. Jake stood guard at the corner of the building, one eye out for policía. Chase locked his hands behind his back and paced.

  Tory turned to Jane. “I’m not stupid. My father hired you to babysit me because he hates Chase.”

  “That’s not exactly it,” Jane interjected.

  “Oh no? Are you saying my father didn’t hire you? Are you claiming you being here has nothing at all to do with how my father feels about me dating an older guy who’s in a band?”

  Jane was silent.

  “Exactly. But now there has been a murder, and since you are in my dad’s pay, you’re going to try and get Chase locked up in a Mexican prison so I never see him again.” Her face was red with anger.

  Chase stopped in front of Jane, his shoulders squared, his formidable head forward. “What’s your game?”

  “Mr. Trives hired a private detective to follow you and find out if you came to Mexico to deal drugs. I’m the detective. I’m supposed to come up either with evidence that you are dealing drugs or that you aren’t. It’s impossible to prove a negative, so if you aren’t dealing drugs, we’re all in trouble. And if you are dealing drugs, I guess just the two of you are in trouble. I work for the Senior Corps of Retired Investigators and am serving my apprenticeship. Things have come to a head with this murder, but only because I foolishly exposed my position to Tory. If you want to explain what you’re doing here, you’ll make all of our lives easier.”

  “We, unlike you, are here to serve the needy,” Tory spit out with venom. “Only one thing in this world is more disgusting than hypocrisy and lies, and that is working for my father. Come on, Chase.”

  Chase stood his ground. “How do we know what you are saying is true?”

  “Does that sound like a lie?” Jake asked with a sarcastic laugh. “She told you who she works for and what she was hired to do.”

  “We don’t need to tell these two anything.” Tory tugged on Chase’s sleeve., the slight difference in their age apparent by the way he gently patted her hand to calm her down.

  “I’m not selling drugs. I’m serving the needy, just like everyone else. Come on, Tory, we don’t want to get caught in no man’s land.”

  Tory shot Jane a bitter look and turned on her heel. They left fast, and holding hands.

  “That went well.” Jake didn’t sound sarcastic.

  “In whose world?”

  “I believe him.”

  “Yeah, me too. He’s not selling drugs. They’re doing something they consider good, but it’s also not the orphanage work.”

  “Exactly. So we can leave it. Let’s go back to the cafeteria, have a cup of coffee, and wait around until they let us get back to work.” He yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a week of hard labor so far, and don’t mind a break.”

  Jane went with him, also aware that it wasn’t a good idea to linger in places the policía had declared off limits. “The trouble is I’ve been hired for a job. If I could find out what they are doing here, under the cover of the orphanage, I could prove they aren’t buying, or selling, or transporting drugs.”

  “And you’d also like to solve the murder.”

  “It would be nice.”

  “And then I could introduce you as ‘my wife Jane, international crime-fighter.’”

  Jane laughed. “I like the sound of that.” They paused at the door into the cafeteria. “I’m not going to let up, just so you know.”

  “It was an empty hope, and a momentary lapse on my part. You fight the good fight. I’m going to caffeinate myself.”

  The cafeteria was mostly empty, as the volunteers had preferred the more comfortable seating in the lounge, or perhaps the spiritual comfort of the chapel. Jake filled paper cups of tepid coffee for himself and Jane and then settled at a table with three members of the other volunteer team.

  “This has all been kind of weird, right?”

  Two blonde girls nodded.

  “I never expected this,” a young man with small hoop earrings in both ears said. “I’ve been to Mexico for short-term trips five times now and never had a murder investigation.”

  “Do you think it really was murder?” Jane asked in a hushed voice.

  “They wouldn’t still have us under lock and key if it was, like, a heart attack or something,” the earring kid said.

  “Besides, he was perfectly healthy. I saw him playing with the kids,” one of the blondes said.

  “Where?” Jane jumped in a little too aggressively with her question, and regretted it. She softened her tone. “I mean, like, was he running around or something? How do you know it meant he was healthy?”

  “I was washing windows and I was at his picture window. He was playing with his little ones, teaching them to do headstands.”

  “Aw.” Jane swallowed revulsion. Was he constantly punishing the poor kids? How could this girl see that and think they were playing? “They had a happy memory as the last of their daddy . . .”

  She scrunched up her face. “I guess.”

  “Tell
her the truth, Pen,” the other blonde girl said. “You saw them playing, but the little girl was bawling, and the older brother was laughing at her, and then the dad got all mad.”

  “Well . . . sure, but it was kind of normal. You know how it is, right?” She looked to Jake for confirmation. “When you are fighting and your dad gets fed up?”

  Jake nodded. “My dad to a T. How mad did this guy get? Mine used to find a paddle. Never used it, but always wacked it against the palm of his hand, threatening us.”

  “Yes! Exactly. He took off his belt and did that, like he was going to whip them. My dad did that once. Scared me to death. I cried for fifteen minutes afterwards, and he didn’t even spank me.”

  “Did Pat spank the boy for teasing his sister?”

  “I don’t know. It looked kind of . . . private. So I moved on to the other window. I mean, family time is tough, isn’t it? I’d have hated to have people watching in the window when I was getting punished.”

  “Can’t blame you at all.” Jake took a swig of his coffee.

  “But he seemed healthy and energetic, huh?” Jane asked. “That does seem bad. If he had been all red faced, and huffing and puffing like my dad before his heart attack…” One lie seemed to follow the other. Her dad was, and had always been, the picture of health.

  “That’s why I remembered it so clearly,” Pen said. “Because he hadn’t been out of control or red faced or anything like a person about to have a heart attack would be. He was mad, but looked fine.”

  “Even Jane gets red faced when she’s mad at me.” Jake chuckled.

  As if by command, Jane blushed. “Jake!”

  “See?”

  Pen looked closely at Jane. “You know, he was a little red faced. So . . . maybe . . . I don’t know.”

  “Maybe you don’t know anything.” The earring guy spoke again. “Just because you saw him before he died doesn’t mean you are suddenly an important witness.” He looked disgusted with her. “And Dad never took his belt off to spank you. You make him sound like a monster.” Ahh. Sibling. That explained his disgust.

  “He did too, and I don’t know why you don’t remember it. You caused the whole thing.”