So the online vitriol the programmer was getting came as a surprise.
Jane was knee deep in a Voice of the Programmer forum dedicated to hunting down MotherofBridezilla, stealing her identity, and destroying her credit—one of the least terrifying of similar threads—when Flora and Rocky returned.
Jane bit her lip and held out her phone. She was on to something, and really hoped they would be as excited as she was.
Flora held up her hand. “Hold that thought. I need to wrap up this case first.” Flora took a seat at her desk and rolled her chair back and forth. She pulled a pen from the “I heart corgis” mug next to her phone and scratched some hieroglyphics on a wall calendar. Then she pulled a small tape recorder from her purse and laid it on the desk top. “Miranda?” she called.
“Yeah?” Miranda answered on her way to the door.
“Can you type up my notes? I want to move on to the insurance case with Jane.”
Miranda wrinkled her nose at Jane. It was so fast, Jane couldn’t have sworn to it, but it looked like disgust. With her? With typing? She wasn’t sure. “Of course.” She picked up the recorder and left.
“Don’t be too impressed.” Flora rolled her eyes. “She stopped trying to do it manually years ago. She uses a voice to text program.” She exhaled slowly, then cracked her knuckles. “Now, let’s start in on the Frances’ insurance-fraud case. What did you discover?”
Jane held out the phone so Flora could read it. “The bride is in a lot of hot water with the Voice of the Programmers vigilantes. They want to completely destroy her. I’m still not exactly sure what she did besides being a female in a male dominated field. The pages and pages of content that pop up when searching for her, or her online persona, have all been created in the last twelve hours, and are focused on how to punish her, rather than what they want to punish her for. There’s more than that, I’m sure, but the fresh stuff has flooded the searches.”
Flora frowned, her thin eyebrows drawn together over her big, blue eyes. “Slow down. What did you discover at the courthouse about her marriage license? Had they filed for one?”
“Oh! Yes. I’m sorry. They did file one, and actually got married last week. So the insurance thing probably is fraud.” The real story was online, and about the phone call Maggie had made to SCoRI. This insurance business couldn’t possibly be as interesting or important as what she had just learned.
Flora shook her head. “I admire your natural discernment, and you may be right, but a civil wedding doesn’t preclude an insurable formal ceremony and party. So, in reality, she may have a legal claim.”
Jane glanced at her phone. “I wonder if the online threats had anything to do with it. Her real name, address, phone number…even her social security number have been plastered all over the internet with invitations to attack and harass her. Maybe that was too much for her fiancé—er—husband.”
“Someone could have scared him off.” Flora tapped her index finger on her desk. “That phone call you took, what exactly did she say?”
Jane repeated the call. “Sorry it wasn’t word for word, but it was pretty close.”
“You’ll want to work on that. Memory is important in this business. Now, you are sure she specifically said she wanted Senior Corps of Retire Investigators to leave her alone? With all of the online bullying she has been facing, why would she pick us specifically?”
“Maybe she is calling through a list. A cease and desist for everyone who has been harassing her.”
“But why would one of those online hooligans pretend to be us? We’re not nationally known. We’re hardly a blip on the online radar.” Flora shrugged off her leather jacket and let it fall behind her on the chair. “I don’t know if the SCoRI impersonators have anything to do with the insurance claim, but I feel a bit of a personal responsibility to address the issue.”
Jane grinned. This was what she wanted to hear. The SCoRI impersonators had to be tied to the online attack, which meant she could definitely pursue her line of interest. “One of her online harassers could easily be local.”
“True. And if so, then she may be in some actual danger.”
“Which means the missing fiancé could be in actual danger as well.”
Flora sucked in a breath. “Fortunately the police will be handling that end of things. We only have two obligations right now. The first is to the insurance agency. We need to find out if the groom actually went missing, or if this is a stunt the bride and groom cooked up. The second obligation is to ourselves and for our own reputation. If these things overlap in the investigation, so be it.”
“What would you like me to do next?”
“I think this poor girl needs our sympathy, and that can best be communicated with a nice cup of coffee. Run down to Bean Me Ups. Deliver it with our sympathy, and do your best to get invited in. You are a nice, nonthreatening kid. Give her the official sympathy of the Senior Investigators, and see what you can learn.” She pulled out an envelope marked “Petty Cash” and handed Jane a twenty. “Might as well get some donuts while you’re at it.” She checked her watch again. “Shoot. It’s too late for coffee tonight. Head her way tomorrow morning, around nine, and report back to me by noon, sharp.”
Jane gripped the bill, the thrill of the chase tracing up and down her arms. Online bullying? Missing fiancé? This was much, much better than scrubbing toilets.
Two
Jane had expected a more dramatic scene at Maggie Frances’ house. Two dark sedans with tinted windows were parked a house away. There was always a chance they were unmarked police there to protect her, but…probably not.
The door was answered on the first ring and a pale brunette with big glasses opened it a crack. She looked Jane up and down, then undid the chain and pulled her in.
The coffee sloshed against Jane’s wrist.
“Maggie?” Jane attempted a concerned smile.
This way.” The girl led Jane down a hall covered in family pictures and to a small bedroom with an elaborate computer set up and a stationary bike.
“My name is Jane. I’m with the Senior Corps of Retired Investigators.”
“Brenna.” Brenna took a desk chair and rolled up to one of the computers. She pressed her fist against her chin and stared at the screen.
“Where’s Maggie?” Jane asked.
Brenna shook her head. “Just a sec.” She scrolled through a page of posts on what Jane recognized as the VoP message boards, then rolled her chair to face Jane. “What are you here for?” Brenna pulled her full lips into a tight knot.
Jane set her coffee and donuts on a file cabinet. “Maggie called yesterday to ask us not to bother her.” She cleared her throat. “And we hadn’t called her at all yet, so we kind of looked her up to see what was going on.” She indicated the breakfast with the tilt of her head. “This was our way of showing sympathy to her.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“I really am sorry. I can’t imagine what she must feel like right now.”
“No, I’m sure you can’t.” Brenna turned back to the computer, refreshed her screen and read more.
“What about Kyle? Has anyone heard from him yet?”
Brenna didn’t acknowledge the question.
Jane sipped her coffee and sat on the edge of a carefully made bed. “What about Kyle’s family? Has Maggie been talking to them? Do they know anything?”
Brenna turned again and passed Jane an empty water glass.
Jane held it away from her. Was Brenna some kind of mental patient?
“What did you say your name was?”
“Jane Adler. I’m with the Senior Corps of Retired Investigators.”
Brenna typed on a little box next to her keyboard and a sticker label with Jane’s name and association printed out. Brenna took the cup back, gingerly, with a tissue, and stuck the sticker on it. She set the cup on a small shelf with two others. “Fingerprint science is way more exact than DNA.”
Jane exhaled slowly. Definitely a mental pati
ent. She stood up. “Is there any way I can get in touch with Maggie?”
Brenna stood up, scowling. “No. Take your coffee and your donuts and leave. And don’t come back, and don’t call. We are in the middle of filing for a whole litany of restraining orders, and you are now on the top of the list. She called you yesterday, and you came anyway.”
Brenna took two steps closer. She was small, but wiry strength could be deceiving.
Jane stood up and grabbed the donuts and coffee, spilling more on her shirt sleeve as she did so.
Brenna didn’t say anything further, but kept closing in on her until Jane found herself in the hall, hustling to the door.
When she got to her car she noted it was exactly 9:08. So she had most of three hours before she was expected back at the office.
How was she going to get in touch with Maggie Frances if coffee and donuts had failed to pave the way?
She pulled her car around the corner and parked. Neither of the cars with tinted windows followed her.
The odds that Maggie had gone to her day job were slim, but Jane checked the case file for the information anyway. If the direct method wouldn’t work, she’d have to do some real snooping.
According to the information Maggie had provided the insurance company, she worked at a place called Nonessential Trivia, down in the Pearl District. Jane popped the address into her phone and headed into town.
Nonessential Trivia turned out to be a twenty-four hour internet café and brew pub. Jane ordered a breakfast sandwich from a slim girl with a Mohawk whose name tag said “Merry”, and settled in at a computer. The shop had polished concrete floors and varnished ply board cubical walls. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee was intoxicating. This was so Portland. While she waited for Maggie Frances to show up, she could enjoy the atmosphere and keep tabs on the online fracas.
However, she had hardly gotten her search typed in when her breakfast was delivered—by a girl her own age with wavy brown hair and red, tear stained eyes. She glanced at Jane’s screen and almost dropped the plate. Her name tag said “Mags.”
Jane offered a small smile and closed her search.
Mags looked away, the height of internet café professionalism.
“Thanks,” Jane said, her voice a bit weak.
“Sure.” Mags didn’t make eye contact. “Let me know if you need anything.” She backed away from the desk and straightened her shoulders.
Jane let her fingertips rest on her sandwich, but didn’t pick it up. Mags, surely Maggie Frances, had looked terrified.
Jane waited until Mags was all the way back at the front counter to open her search again. A video game blogger had just posted an article with a time line outlining MotherofBridezilla’s crimes.
MotherofBridezilla had broken the number one rule in game design two years previously: she had fallen in love with a journalist.
Jane scratched her head. She had read up on Gamergate last night, the crazy nuclear devastation that was one game designer and one journalist hooking up and the positive reviews for a lame game that had followed. Not being a gamer, she had tried her hardest to withhold judgment while learning as much as she could about the case.
But this one seemed different.
MotherofBridezilla (Maggie Frances) had fallen in love with a journalist, yes, and was getting married. So the timeline included the date that she and Kyle Fish had started seeing each other, the day they had gotten engaged, and their wedding dates—both the day they actually had gotten married, and the day they were having the insured ceremonial wedding party—which would have been a week ago last Saturday—just two days after their civil ceremony.
But this journalist wasn’t a game reviewer. He just reported game news. Though, on and off he had reviewed actual gaming systems.
And that was where the trouble started. Because about a week and a half ago—exactly three days before the wedding—he had reviewed a handheld Android-like gaming device that had been Kickstartered. The game he used to test it was Bridezilla’s Revenge.
The blogger who wrote up the timeline asked an important question. Would there have been a problem if the game Fish had used was of his own design?
He hadn’t reviewed the quality of play of the game, just the processing speed, and the way the controls on the device handled.
Jane finished up her sandwich and looked around for Mags, but didn’t see her anywhere.
There were seventeen hundred twenty-eight comments on the blog, but Jane did her best to read all of them.
One thread of conversation stood out from the rest.
Devon Grosse, who had created the gaming device through his successful Kickstarter, hadn’t been seen or heard from online since the review of his device had been published.
Jane clicked the link to the review of the game device.
Kyle Fish had gotten it for free, for the review, and he had liked it alright, but not loved it.
In fact, his article about it was a little boring, perhaps like the device itself. Jane clicked around Kyle’s website to read more of his style. It wasn’t all boring, but most of it was, so he wasn’t even too far out of character on the device review.
Jane tipped back in her chair and looked around for Maggie. She was behind the register, reading on her phone.
Jane picked up her plate and carried it to the front. “Thanks.”
Maggie looked up, tears in her eyes.
Jane lingered. “Are you okay?”
Maggie pressed the ball of her hand to one eye. “No. I’m not.”
Merry joined them. She placed her hand on Maggie’s lower back and led her away.
In the spirit of snooping, Jane stayed where she was but pretended to read something on her own phone.
“What happened?” Merry whispered. Apparently she had never been told that whispers carry better than a low voice does.
“They found Devon,” Maggie also whispered.
Jane kept her eyes trained on her phone, but it was hard.
“Where has he been?”
“They found his body in Johnson Creek.” Maggie choked on the words.
“Oh!”
Jane bit her lip. Devon was local. And dead. And deeply involved in the disappearance of Maggie’s fiancé.
“Do you need to go home?”
“No.”
Jane allowed herself one quick glance at the two girls. Maggie had straightened up, her face pinched, but determined.
“You can. It’s really okay.”
“Absolutely not. I will not let the bullies win.”
“Okay. No problem. Why don’t you go take a break though?”
Maggie didn’t say anything, but she did slip through the door to the back of the restaurant.
Jane went back to her machine and logged out.
She needed to get to Flora and Rocky, even if she was early. They were happy to let her get her feet wet with insurance fraud, but she didn’t think they’d want her handling a murder all on her own.
Three
Miranda looked up from her work. She seemed to be manning a reception desk. “It gets easier.” She had a deep crevice of worry between her eyes—worry, or strain from staring at a computer screen.
“Are you a detective?” Jane asked.
“Kind of. I’m licensed, but it turns out I like admin a lot better than the dirty work.”
“I’m sitting on a kind of urgent piece of news…should I just wait here, or…?” Jane wanted to burst into Flora’s office and spill the beans, but she had a feeling that wasn’t second day at work behavior.
Miranda glanced at the door to Flora and Rocky’s office. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Why don’t you run down to Bean Me Up Scotty’s and get us some coffee?” She scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Jane. “That’s the regular order. Flora will love you forever, and you can put it on our account if you hand them this card.” She passed Jane a laminated business card. “We’re good for it. Joey loves us.”
By the time
she got back with the coffee, Flora’s door was ajar.
Jane lingered behind the half-opened door.
Flora was at the desk engaged in conversation on a Bluetooth. Her mouth was pinched, even as she spoke. “I see what you are saying, however—” Apparently she had been interrupted. “No, the point is exactly the opposite. We never drop the ball and we won’t this time.” She let bark of a laugh escape
Flora turned to her, rolled her eyes and held up one finger, asking Jane to wait. “Indeed.” Jane had never heard a single word sound so final before. Flora pulled the earpiece off. “A different case. Sorry about that.”
Jane took a deep breath. “I think I’ve stumbled over something important.”
Flora picked up a pen and held it at ready. “Good. What’s up?”
Jane laid out the situation, from the failed breakfast to the connections between Maggie, Maggie’s game, Kyle’s review, and Devon being found dead in the river.
Flora let out a slow breath. She scratched her eyebrow. She looked at her wall clock. “I wish Rocky were here.”
Jane licked her lips. “I’d like to go to Johnson Creek and see if I can find out what’s been going on.”
“I don’t think the police will talk to you.”
“Probably not, but I could listen.”
Flora shook her head. “They’d shoo you away pretty fast.”
“I could call Grant.”
“Let’s not bother him.”
“Shouldn’t I do something?”
Miranda knocked on the door and let herself in. “Jane had a lot on her mind.” She handed around the coffees that Jane had brought. “Is there anything I can be of assistance with?”
“Yes, sit down. Our insurance fraud case just got a little complicated.” Flora sipped her coffee. “I want to send Jane back to—” she consulted her file, “Maggie’s house to see if she can sit down with Maggie’s parents. But I don’t want to send her alone, and I can’t get away just this moment. Are you in a good place for a side trip?”
Spoiled Rotten Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 5) Page 2