“No.” The look of terror on her face made the simple answer hilarious.
Jane laughed and coffee came out of her nose. “Ouch! Give a girl some warning next time you decide to be the funniest Crawford.”
“That is not okay, Jane.” Jake gave her a very serious frown. “There has only ever been one funny Crawford, and that is me.”
A knock on the door interrupted their morning nonsense.
It was Jeff. “Hey, guys.” He raked his hand through his thick wavy hair. “I’m surprised to see you here this morning.” He looked around the front room. “And all of this stuff.”
“You win,” Jake said. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
A man in a polo shirt with the words “Portland Moving Company” embroidered over his heart stepped into the house holding a standing lamp.
“You don’t?” Jeff asked.
“You aren’t moving in today,” Jake said. “You aren’t moving in for a couple of months.”
“That’s what we decided,” Jeff said. “A couple of months ago. Which makes today moving day. Where am I supposed to put everything?”
Jane’s phone rang. It was the SCoRI office, so she took it, even though she really wanted to know Jake’s answer.
“Jane? This is Miranda. We need to get on our to-do list. When can you get here?”
Jane checked the time. It was five after eight. “I can be there at nine. Will that do?”
“Yes, thanks.”
It was a short call, but Jane had missed the resolution of Jake’s problem, but as he was shoving his mother’s furniture to the side of the room, she guessed that compromise was the word of the day. “I’ve got to get ready for work. See you tonight?”
“Yes. Perfect. How about your place?”
“Since you are homeless now, I guess that had better do.”
“Homeless?” Jeff said. “Even with the house at the beach and the condo in the Pearl?” He glanced back towards the movers. “He’s about as homeless as Paris Hilton.”
Jake laughed and held his hands up in surrender.
Phoebe rolled her eyes.
Jane ran upstairs to shower. If Jake wanted her to think he was going to earn his way through the world, and at least for today, she’d let him have his wish.
At the office, Rocky handed her a donut. “Miranda filled us in. You will still need to write a report.” His grin stretched across his craggy face.
The word avuncular popped into Jane’s head, a relic from AP English many years ago. Rocky was like an uncle—happy and proud.
Flora came out of her office and offered Jane her hand. “You took some crazy risks yesterday, young lady.” Though the words were clearly a lecture, there was a light in her eyes. “And you cannot follow directions to save your hide.”
“I’m sorry.” She attempted the look that got her a pass with her dad.
Flora shook her head. “Don’t even try that with me.”
Jane flinched.
“I hate to say it, but even if I fired you for being the most stubborn millennial on the planet, you would still go around catching murderers. And probably get yourself murdered in the process.”
“You’re probably right.” Jane looked to Rocky for support.
He chuckled.
“I would be a very bad person to let you run around with no safety net or guidance,” Flora said. “So you can stay on our roster and get your hours.”
“Thank you!” A grin burst out of Jane that felt like a million dollars.
“You asked me about your future as a missionary. But only God knows that. I think you need to stay here and get your hours in. God has work for you, and you are doing it. And in the future he will have other work for you. Only he knows what it is and when you get to do it. He put the desire to serve in your heart and will provide the opportunities to do it.”
“Whether you want him to or not.” Rocky threw in.
“Of course I want him to.” Jane was confused. These were her mentors, the perfect people to guide her in her rambling path to the mission field, but they were acting like yet another closed door.
Why was every junction in her journey overseas really just another locked door?
“You gotta trust the Big Guy, kiddo,” Rocky said. “It’s the only sure fire way to live exactly the life he intends for you.”
Miranda exhaled in impatience. “And on that note, can we please leave to get this stupid fraud case concluded?”
Rocky laughed. “Learn to trust as quick as you can, Jane. You don’t want to be stuck here forever.”
Jane couldn’t have agreed more. Especially as Miranda was acting like she had skipped breakfast again.
As for trusting God, she’d do her very best, cranky coworker and all. At the moment, trusting him meant serving as a detective. And if she had learned one thing in her first official case, detective work meant a whole lot of repetitious interviews and boring paperwork.
~
Coming soon
Killer Honeymoon: A Plain Jane Mystery
CHAPTER 1
“You had better not be pregnant.” Marjory Crawford’s sour words matched her pinched expression. Jake’s aunt had been hovering on the outside of the action for a while now, waiting for a lull in the chatter to sling her rock.
Jane sputtered on her coffee. “What?”
“A wedding in a month? After you’ve practically been living with my nephew?”
Phoebe yanked on Jane’s corset strings like she was trying to choke her aunt.
“Hey!” Jane waved her arms behind her in an attempt to get her almost-sister-in-law to lay off. What she didn’t need in this exact moment was to lose her ability to breathe.
“If you only knew how many times Jane has been in danger of her life but refused to take Jake’s protection, you wouldn’t be so rude.” Phoebe tied the satin corset ribbons in a tight bow.
“Not using protection is exactly what I am worried about.” Marjory adjusted the corsage on her lapel.
Nancy Adler pushed open the door to the nursing room at The Old Church in Southeast Portland. The Adlers had thought they were booking the more popular Old Church in downtown Portland but had made a mistake. It was just as well, in Jane’s opinion, as this one had better parking and she had gotten a deal on a wedding night package at a local inn—The Miramontes—just down the block.
Jane closed her eyes and counted to five. The horse and pony show would be over before she knew it, and she and Jake would be ensconced in their honeymoon suite. It did not matter what anybody said.
It did not matter what anybody said.
It did not matter what anybody said.
“A Tuesday night wedding. Who gets married on a Tuesday night?” Marjory looked around the little room with its Ikea sofas and glider-rockers and shuddered.
“Jane, please eat something. I can’t stand the idea of you fainting up at the altar.” Nancy handed Jane a corn dog.
Jane took a long, deep breath, fearing it might be her last with Phoebe in charge of her underpinnings. She stared at the corn dog. Its golden crust and that sweet, fried aroma turned her stomach. She set it on the small table nearest her. There wasn’t enough room in her new fashionable torture device for both her guts and a greasy corn dog.
Marjory folded her arms.
“Hello, Marjory.” Nancy sighed. “Is there something you needed?”
Marjory cleared her throat. “No. I just wanted to give Jane a few of my thoughts before her wedding.”
“Hmm.” Nancy refrained from saying more, but the tired look on her face indicated she had some thoughts she would have liked to share.
“Don’t believe her. She came to shame Jane. You know, because there’s only one reason a couple would get married on a Tuesday.” Phoebe picked up the corn dog and took a bite.
Nancy sighed and picked up Jane’s dress. “Put your hands over your head, Jane, let’s slip this on.”
“Let it go, Phoebe. We knew people would talk.” Jane di
d not lift her hands over her head. She was a little afraid she couldn’t. And according to her calculations she had at least seven minutes before she needed to carry around the pounds and pounds of satin her overly sentimental self had convinced her mom to buy.
“What would people talk about?” Jake popped his head in the door, his face lit up with a smile bigger than the whole town.
“Get out of here, Jacob. What’s wrong with you?” Marjory pushed the door shut.
Jake popped it open again. “Does anyone need anything? My men are all dressed and we’re bored. A back rub? A game of canasta? A pizza? Nothing?”
Jane felt like she was in an oven with the people pressing around her, watching her cook, and Jake staring at her, his eyes more hungry than a Christian boy’s ought to be.
“Don’t look at the bride before the ceremony,” Nancy’s motherly tone ordered. She held the heavy ivory gown backwards in front of her half-dressed daughter.
“Will she evaporate into a cloud of dust if I look at her?” Jake asked. “Because that would be a bummer but also kind of cool.”
“Jacob Terwilliger Crawford, get out of here,” Marjory said.
Nancy drew her brows together. She shifted the heavy dress in her hands. “Jake, can you go get a flat of water bottles for the bridal party? Just set it outside of the door and try hard not to peek again.” She offered him a sympathetic smile, then turned to Marjory. “And maybe you can go find Stan. We’re going to need him here any minute.”
Marjory pursed her lips. “Well.”
“Thank you!” Jane piped up. She gave a bright smile to Marjory. It pained her, but it was worth it to get at least one more person out of her hair.
Marjory flipped her dove grey pashmina over her shoulder and left. She was going to represent the Crawford family in the wedding processional, but she didn’t seem to be happy about it.
Seven minutes of adjusting the perfect wedding dress and fixing the hair that gotten messed up while adjusting the dress blew by, and Jane found herself in the foyer of the little church with her arm tucked carefully into her father’s before she was mentally ready. She had too much to say, too much to do. She couldn’t catch her breath.
What business did they have getting married like this?
On a Tuesday?
In the wrong church?
Before she had ever even left the country?
Before she had … she couldn’t think of anything else to freak out about, but the anxiety pressed against her rib cage anyway.
She looked around her for a place to sit down.
“Take a deep breath, then count to ten and exhale.” Her father led her to a pew against the wall. “Sit down. Nobody gets married without a little panic.”
Strains of Ode to Joy played on a pipe organ could be heard faintly from the sanctuary.
That wasn’t the music they had planned.
“What’s going on, Dad?” Jane asked after she exhaled. “Why am I freaking out?”
“Why did you insist on going to that little Bible School? Why wouldn’t you even try to go to University?” He smiled, the sting of that old fight long gone.
“Because I knew what I wanted. I had a plan.” Jane took another one of those deep breaths and tried to hold it.
“Is this wedding your plan?”
“Kind of.” Jane let the breath out, but it didn’t help.
“And kind of Jake’s too, right?”
“And kind of Mom’s.”
Stan laughed. “So it was a team decision. You weren’t in charge.”
She tugged her dad’s arm. “Hey.”
“Are you in love with Jake?”
“Yes.” She agreed without thinking, the answer a reflex like breathing. She loved Jake like she loved life itself.
“But?”
“If I marry him he will be the boss of me.” This answer also came out fast, without thought, and sounded like a three year old.
Her dad laughed softly. “I pity the man who tries to be the boss of you. That’s all I am saying.”
“You don’t think this will ruin everything?”
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “No.” He looked down at her with tears in his eyes. “But if you don’t want to do it, you and I can get out of here, right now.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I do want to, but maybe in three more minutes.”
“You’ve got all the time in the world.” Stan squeezed his daughter’s arm.
The organ music changed. A Kiss from a Rose, this time. Jane leaned forward listening closely. “Why is she playing that?”
“Hmmm?” Stan had a dreamy look on his face and a tight grip on Jane’s arm like he was still hoping she might change her mind and go back to being his kid again.
“That song. That’s not on the list. And it’s kind of sloppy.” Jane got up and led her father to the sanctuary doors.
The organist slouched, and her song was off beat.
Phoebe and Gemma, who had been hanging back in their matching navy blue dresses joined Jane and Stan at the door.
“Look at Franny at the organ,” Jane said.
“She doesn’t look well,” Gemma murmured.
“What on earth is she playing?” Phoebe tapped the wall with her small bouquet of red roses. “That’s not Be Thou My Vision.”
“No, it’s not.” Jane scanned the audience to see if anything else seemed amiss, but other than some shifting in seats and the low murmur of small talk, all seemed normal.
Franny, the fifty-year-old organist who came with the church, slumped forward, hitting a sour note.
“Franny!” Jane pulled open the sanctuary door and dragged her dad down the aisle. “Franny! Are you okay?” She got to the organ, just to the left of the altar, in less than five seconds. She went straight for Franny’s neck to check her pulse—faint, but at least it was there. “Someone call 911!”
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Whatever Happened to Jane’s ex Isaac Daniels?
Hard to Find: A Tillgiven Romantic Mystery
Isaac Daniels' Sequel to Bright, New Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery!
Isaac Daniels screwed up his romance with Jane Adler, and then a few more. Starting over at a Bible School in Sweden probably wasn't the best idea. Especially when he manages to lose the pretty girl with the big green eyes, her crazy sister, and his boss’s diabetic nephew.
If he can find the missing students, he can probably keep his job, but the real risk in this hunt is losing his heart.
Nineteen-year old Dani Honeywell wants to stop her crazy sister from eloping with the stranger she met on the train. Dani would love to have Isaac’s company on her cross-Europe hunt, but if she has to go it alone, she will—and she won’t let Isaac stop her.
Hard to Find is a cozy and romantic mystery told from the point of view of Professor Isaac Daniels, the popular male lead from Hilton’s Good, Clean Murder, and Dani Honeywell, his new love interest, an impulsive 19 year old unschooled girl, ready to conquer the world.
Praise for Hard to Find
Traci once again gives us adventure and fun as she reintroduces a favorite character, Isaac from a previous series. Still reeling from romantic mishaps, Isaac takes a job at a Swedish Bible School and finds himself once again attracted to a lovely young lady who is off limits because she is his student. You will enjoy a wild ride throughout Europe with this duo as they search for her sister and begin to discover each other.--Amazon Review
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When not writing, Traci accompanies her mandolin-playing husband on the spoons, and knits socks.
She is the author of the Tillgiven Romantic Mysteries, the Plain Jane Mystery Series, the Mitzy Neuhaus Mysteries, and Hearts to God, a Christian historical romance novella. She was the Mystery/Suspense Category winner for the 2012 Christian Writers of the West Phoenix Rattler Contest, and
has a Drammy from the Portland Civic Theatre Guild. Traci serves as the vice president of the Portland chapter of the American Christian Fiction Writers Association.
Traci earned a degree in history from Portland State University and still lives in the rainiest part of the Pacific Northwest with her husband, their two daughters, and their dogs, Dr. Watson and Archie.
Traci’s photo by Jessie Kirk Photography.
Find all Traci’s books at tracihilton.com
Connect with Traci at Facebook.com/TraciTHilton or
[email protected]
Also by Traci Tyne Hilton
The Plain Jane Mysteries
Good Clean Murder
Dirty Little Murder
Bright New Murder
Health, Wealth and Murder
Spoiled Rotten Murder
Killer Honeymoon
The Tillgiven Romantic Mysteries
Hard to Find
Dark and Stormy
The Mitzy Neuhaus Mysteries
Foreclosed
Eminent Domain
Buyer’s Remorse
Frozen Assets
Spoiled Rotten Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery
Copyright 2015 Traci Tyne Hilton
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Proverbs 31 House LLC
[email protected]
tracihilton.com
proverbs31house.com
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Spoiled Rotten Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 5) Page 19