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

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Killer Calling: A Plain Jane Mystery (A Cozy Christian Collection) (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 7) Page 8

by Traci Tyne Hilton


  Jane considered going to Dr. Rodriguez’s nice receptionist to talk about what might be in walking distance from the orphanage, and if anyone might have noticed someone leaving at night, but then she remembered the back parking lot. Perhaps Tory had gone back there that first day to case the joint, and had used that exit to slip away when she ought to have been working or sleeping.

  The courtyard was quiet, the police presence was felt, but again, she wasn’t stopped as she crossed the campus.

  The little parking lot was empty, but the gate was locked. The cyclone fencing had razor wire running across the top. This was not a fence Tory could climb out of.

  Jane jingled the gate. It was padlocked. She picked the lock up and examined it. The keyhole was very scratched up. There seemed to be, in addition to normal wear and tear, some fresh, deep scratches. A key wouldn’t have made them in a normal kind of unlocking situation, but maybe it could have happened if someone had picked it.

  Jane walked up and down the length of the fence. One farm house surrounded by fields, and nothing else as far as she could see. But the two lane road had to meet up with the main road somewhere along the line. At the very least, you could turn a corner somewhere and get into the village. What there was to do in the village was anyone’s guess. She abandoned her search for clues and looked for Jake instead, but couldn’t find him. She dearly wanted to talk out her new facts and questions, but would have to go it alone. She took herself to the dimly lit chapel, again the one room the policia were allowing them in that was consistently empty, and paced in the quiet, thinking and praying.

  The door swung open, letting in a streak of bright sunshine and a panting Riley.

  “Jane! Jane!” She rushed at Jane, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her to a windowless corner. “Jane!”

  “Riley.”

  “Jane, Jane, Jane!” Riley shook from head to toe. Her eyes were bulging and her face was red. “Jane!”

  “I’m right here. Take a deep breath and count to three before you say my name again.”

  Riley inhaled, but seemed to have a problem exhaling.

  “Don’t hyperventilate on me. Put your hand up like this.” Jane cupped her hands in front of her own nose and mouth and breathed into them.

  Riley copied her. Slowly her breathing normalized. “Jane . . .”

  “If you say my name one more time I’m leaving.”

  “J—You’ve got to hear what I just heard.”

  “That’s better. What did you just hear?”

  “I went to take a shower, but there were too many people in the girls’ shower, so I went to the men’s. No one else was in there so it really didn’t make a difference. Everyone’s in their designated areas, but I didn’t shower yesterday so I was all sweaty and gross and stunk and it seemed like a good time to do it. Plus, the guys on the teams wouldn’t like shower in the middle of the afternoon, if at all, you know? They are kind of gross, guys this age.”

  “Except for the showers being off limits for repairs, it does seem like showering is always a good idea.”

  “Oh no! Were they? I hadn’t even thought of that. Oh shoot. I’m really lucky I didn’t get caught. Luckier than I thought, and I had thought I was pretty lucky anyway, because when I was drying off, two men came in, but they stayed in the part by the sinks and toilets. They didn’t go around the corner to the showers, so they didn’t know I was there. They probably thought no one would be there because of it being off limits which makes so much sense now, but then the light was on and it was kind of steamy, so I don’t know why they thought they were alone. Oh! Wait! Do you think they knew I was there and they said it to send me on the wrong track? What if it was a trap?”

  Jane gauged the level of panic on Riley’s face. “Don’t say my name again.”

  “No, I won’t but, Jane, Jane, Jane, what if it was a trap?”

  Jane decided to ignore the name-saying. “I don’t know what was said or who said it, so I can’t even guess if it was a trap or not.”

  “It was Miguel, and some other guy who I didn’t recognize. They were talking quietly, but I was paying close attention because I wanted to know exactly when they left, so I could sneak out. And Miguel was telling the other guy that they had to get Claude in the ground, as soon as possible, no matter what the people said. He said it was the most important thing right then and that they would have to push forward with it.”

  “But they already had the big funeral.” Jane frowned. Riley was making as little sense as anyone had ever made.

  “Right, but they didn’t bury him. I don’t know why you don’t remember that. They said so in the funeral, that they were having the funeral but they didn’t have permission to bury him yet because they were waiting on the people in America, his family, I think. They want to bury him because it’s expensive to keep him on ice at the funeral home, but the family can’t decide if they want him shipped back home or not. I heard that part over breakfast two days ago. You’ve really got to start paying attention, Jane. Some of this could be important!”

  Jane didn’t like the implication that she was bad at her job. You could only listen in to so many conversations at once, and morning wasn’t her best time. Plus, they had used their funeral time wisely, she thought. So she had missed the detail about the body not being buried. Hardly a crime. “But you were saying something about a trap. Could that be a trap?”

  Riley paused and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “I think I’m missing something. What else did they say?”

  “The other guy said he didn’t see what it would help. He said it would make the police ask questions they didn’t need to ask. He said that they had to remain calm, and not take any chances.”

  “That still doesn’t sound like a trap.”

  Riley nodded. She pressed her hands to her knees. “Okay, yeah. Maybe not. That’s good.” She kept nodding, calming herself down. “Then Miguel said that they needed to meet later, at ten p.m.”

  “Ahh. Did he say where or what the purpose of the meeting would be?”

  “They said at the far edge of the orchard, but he didn’t say why.” Riley stared at Jane. “That’s why I was thinking it might be a trap! I knew there was a reason! I think they might have realized I was in there and wanted to lure me away.”

  Jane considered it. “To what end? You’re a volunteer on a two-week stay. I’m sure they aren’t plotting to harm you. Say Miguel is our murderer . . . you haven’t given him any reason to think you suspect him, have you?”

  “No! Oh no. I was just thinking if they had noticed me sneaking around, or listening in or something.”

  “So you maybe have given them reason to suspect you?”

  “Yeah, Maybe? I don’t know!” She chewed on her lip. “It’s pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

  Jane shook her head slowly. “No. It’s murder. It’s dangerous and terrifying, but not exciting. Go to the lounge and hang out with the rest of the volunteers, please. I need to do some time alone.

  “If I see Jake, I’ll tell him what I heard.” Riley hopped to her feet.

  “Don’t, not until I give you the heads up.” Jane did not want Riley talking about what she had heard where someone might hear her. And considering her previous caution with finding the perfect place to give news, Riley’s nerves were shot. A few days ago she wouldn’t have told a story like that where people might have been able to listen in at the open windows.

  Jane also didn’t like the idea that personable Miguel was somehow involved in the death of Claude Marshall—who Jane still hoped hadn’t been a murder victim.

  After a considerable time in the quiet, praying, Jane sought and found her husband.

  Jake was in the volunteer lounge chatting with some young men who had travelled with them. She gave him a quick nod, and he excused himself to the hall. “I can’t give you details right now,” Jane kept her voice low. “But you need to meet me at the gate to the orchard at exactly ten.”

  “Can do. U
ntil then, you need to join me and these guys. I think you’ll want to hear what we’ve been talking about.”

  Jane joined them at the threadbare overstuffed couches, and nestled into the crook of Jake’s arm like it was any old day.

  “Aiden here was just telling me about the trip they took here last year.” Jake nodded at a kid with a hint of red in his hair. “I think the church is planning on making this an annual thing.”

  “Cool!” Jane smiled at Aiden. “I guess this trip is pretty different from the last one, yeah?” She shivered dramatically for effect.

  “Right. Because Pat died, but also with Claude and Vanessa gone it seems weird.”

  “Who’s Vanessa?” Jane squeezed Jake’s knee. He was right to invite her to the conversation. This could be good.

  “She was head of housekeeping when we were here last. I think she was engaged to Claude. I’ve asked about her but nobody had any real answers. Like, they changed the subject when I brought it up. Kinda weird.”

  “I remember Vanessa,” a girl who was sitting kind of close to Aiden, but in a shy and excited way, said. “She led one of the devotions and talked about how she had ended up here and how she had been here for the last six years and how awesome it was.”

  “Do you remember her story?” Jane asked to draw the girl out.

  “Her parents had taken them here as kids and stuff, and they had adopted a kid, too. It was all really sweet.”

  Jane glanced at Jake. He nodded slightly.

  “What was her name again?”

  “Vanessa Thompson. I remember because our fearless leader on that trip was John Thompson, He couldn’t come this time.”

  Jane tried to keep her face a picture of calm, but was disappointed. She had been hoping the woman’s name was Vanessa McBane. “Any relation to John?”

  “Nope, just a coincidence. But her testimony was so, so sad. She was a super young war widow, and stuff. She talked about how being the bride of Christ had comforted her when she was super sad, and how being at the orphanage gave her children to love, and she hinted at a new romance, but didn’t come out and say who it was with.”

  “But everyone could tell.” As if the romantic story had put Aiden in the mood for his own love story, he scooted a little closer to the shy girl. “Just the way they looked at each other was enough.”

  The girl nodded. “So, so sweet.”

  “It was just different last year. Everyone was happy. Having fun. None of this weirdness about dads beating kids, or people getting murdered,” Aiden said with a frown.

  “I think it’s a spiritual attack,” The shy girl said.

  “Probably so,” Jake agreed.

  Jane squeezed his knee again. “I’ve got to run, see you at dinner?”

  “Yup.” He kissed her cheek, and she slipped away. Time to find Ginger and ask about Vanessa Thompson, the missing widow who Jane seriously hoped was Chase McBane’s big sister.

  She found Ginger in the kitchen helping with supper set up.

  “Do you have a minute?” Jane leaned over the kitchen pass-through and gave Ginger a smile.

  “Sure.” Ginger wiped her hands on her canvas apron. “Come around here.”

  Jane came through the kitchen to a small office.

  “What do you need?”

  “I was wondering if you could tell me a little bit about some of the staff that isn’t here anymore.”

  Ginger exhaled. “It depends. I might not know anything.”

  “How about some of the ladies who have been on housekeeping staff in the past.” She was easing into it, knowing that Ginger was strongly on the side of Pat Bromfield’s crazy parenting book.

  “Like Vanessa and Jennifer?”

  “We can start there.” Jane smiled, trying not to let on that Ginger had hit the nail on the head on her first try.

  “Jennifer was here when I got here, but only stayed a few months longer. She had to go back to Minnesota, I think there was an illness in the family.” Ginger ran her hand through her hair.

  The back door to the kitchen swung open. Miguel entered, flustered. “Todo el mundo a la iglesia, por favor. Everyone to the chapel.” He exited as abruptly as he had entered.

  Ginger stripped off her apron.

  “What about Vanessa?” Jane leaned on the door frame of the office, not willing to leave without answers.

  “Didn’t you hear Miguel? We are all supposed to go to the chapel. I think it’s the police thing.”

  “Oh, sure, but I bet we have a minute or two.”

  “You want to mess around with Mexican police? I don’t. Come on.”

  She elbowed her way past Jane and hustled out of the kitchen with the other women.

  Ginger had known all about some women named Jennifer who Jane didn’t care about in the least. Surely she knew all about Vanessa Thompson, too. If only she could get her to talk.

  11

  It looked like the whole orphanage from temporary volunteers to the infants were in the chapel. Two police were stationed each of the three doors, and five police, all armed, stood on the stage.

  Dr. Rodriguez stood at the pulpit.

  When the officers shut the doors, he spoke. “Thank you all for coming in so quickly. The police have an announcement and I will translate.” He spoke first in Spanish, then English.

  A scrappy little officer with a big gun stood beside Dr. Rodriguez. He spoke, and Dr. Rodriguez translated line by line. “The investigation into the death of Mr. Patrick Bromfield is over. We have concluded that he was intentionally killed by an unknown person. He will be kept at the morgue until the results from the laboratory are back. No one may leave the orphanage or Mexico, until we release you. For our visitors we will attempt to give you freedom to leave before your scheduled flights. You are now free to use all of the orphanage facilities and to resume work as usual.”

  The scrappy little policeman stepped back.

  Dr. Rodriguez cleared his throat. “Gracias.” He stepped back from the pulpit, but everyone stayed glued to their seats.

  No one could leave. But everyone could probably leave eventually. But right now it was a no go. But work was starting back up.

  It opened up a whole world of investigation that had to begin tonight at ten, in the orchard, and really had to be wrapped up by the date on her plane ticket.

  The police cleared the chapel out in an orderly manner and then stationed themselves back around the property, watching, listening, whatever. There were more of them this time, and they seemed intense.

  Jane hunted for Ginger but didn’t have any luck until supper, when she spotted her in the kitchen helping serve up the pozole.

  For about ten minutes the hearty, savory soup distracted Jane from what she really needed to do, but it was worth it. Pozole was not something she had grown up with in her hamburger-centric family in Portland.

  Jane watched Tory slip away with Chase and considered following them, but she needed Ginger’s confirmation of her suspicions first. Unfortunately, Ginger hadn’t stayed for supper clean up, and couldn’t be found.

  Jane gave up and went back to the dorm. Riley was stationed on a top bunk, her eye on Tory.

  Tory was settled into her own bunk, reading a thick paperback.

  The clock moved slowly. There was no lights out curfew for the volunteers since this wasn’t a children’s camp, but by ten they had dimmed the lights out of consideration for those who wanted to sleep. When the lights went down Jane grabbed her toothbrush and slipped away. She shoved the toothbrush in her pocket with a shrug. No one would have cared if she had walked out, but she had felt the need for an excuse.

  Jake was waiting at the gate to the orchard as promised.

  “Someone is meeting Miguel out here. We don’t know why, or what for, but we do know it has something to do with the death of Claude. We want to be very quiet, and slip around to the far end and see what we can hear,” Jane said.

  Jake nodded, and led the way in silence. Jane felt like her feet were thunde
ring over the solid turf.

  The smell of smoke hit them first, and as they followed it, a small glow in the distance made it easy to find the two men. Jane and Jake hunkered behind two trees and strained to listen to the hushed voices.

  “The ashes will blend in with the dirt. No one will notice anything out this far.” That was Miguel. The conversation was in Spanish, but Jane was able to follow it with ease, as there were no other voices to distract her.

  The other man, whose silhouette looked like Dr. Ben Rodriguez, just nodded.

  “Though I can’t understand why we let it go on this long.”

  “It was always an excuse with him,” Rodriguez said. “Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, but he never did do it.”

  “It’s over now.” Miguel stomped the little blaze out and kicked the ashes around. Rodriguez did the same, kicking dusty dirt over the place the fire had been. “No record he was ever here.”

  Dr. Rodriguez exhaled loudly. “This is not how a Christian home should run.”

  Jake stepped out from behind the trees. “Well, hey there.” His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he ambled casually toward the men. “Did I miss the bonfire?” He spoke in English. They had no reason to think he had understood their conversation, but Jane knew better. While not fluent, he had the vocabulary to have gotten the gist of things.

  “What can we do for you?” Dr. Rodriguez stepped away from Miguel.

  “Oh, I was just wandering, enjoying our bit of freedom. Thinking about the losses you all have suffered. And wondering what exactly you were hiding.”

  Miguel laughed unnaturally loud. “Hiding? Come on. Let’s get back in.”

  “How long have you been out there?” Dr. Rodriguez did not follow Miguel’s call to leave.

  “Long enough. Was that Claude’s file you burned up just now?”

  Jane kept her place behind the tree. The way Dr. Rodriguez seized up when Jake asked his question made her think she would be more valuable as a surprise, if needed.

 

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