Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 1

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  The second flight of stairs squeaked twice at the top so there was no getting away from it. She reached the first of the servants’ bedrooms and slipped in. She shut the door behind her with a click and sat on the bed. It was just after midnight now. In the morning she had to go clean the neighbor’s house. Possibly, if she was going to be staying on here as some kind of live-in maid, she’d have to make breakfast as well.

  Jane shifted her winter coat off. She plucked her phone out of her pocket and pulled up Jake’s contact info. Better now than never. “GNite. CU AM” She texted. “Will U want BFast?” She flopped down on her pillow and hit ‘send.’ Did a text count as a contractual agreement? She wondered what Isaac’s dad would have to say about that.

  Isaac.

  Was tonight’s coffee really a date? Did she want it to be? Was it against the rules for her to date an instructor? These questions were far more welcome than the question of how Marjory would take it when she saw Jane in the morning.

  Chapter 6

  Sleep was hard to come by, but waking up was a breeze. Jane whipped herself out of bed, still wearing the same clothes she had spent the day before in. Her laundry was moldering in the Rabbit. Maybe when she negotiated her new position with Jake he would throw in laundry room privileges.

  The bathrooms on the top floor were clean and had soap and towels—Jane was particularly glad she never scrimped on the upstairs work—but no bathtub. She gave herself a quick scrub up and did her best to smooth her crumpled clothes. She wasn’t a pretty sight. Marjory couldn’t possibly know her schedule so Jane’s current plan was to sneak down the back steps, retrieve her shoes from the mudroom and then enter the kitchen as though it were all perfectly normal.

  Jane flicked the light off and shut the door.

  “Hey!”

  Jane jumped.

  “So what’s for breakfast then?” Jake seemed to fill the narrow hallway. He leaned on one wall with his outstretched arm, his legs crossed at the ankle all the way to the other wall. He smelled like he had been drinking, and like Jane still had on yesterday’s clothes.

  “Whatever you like.” Jane tried to duck past.

  Jake stood up. “I’m glad you decided to have sympathy on me.”

  “It seemed…like the right thing to do.”

  “Eggs. And pancakes.” Jake let Jane pass.

  She hustled down the stairs, but he stayed at her heels.

  “Scratch that. Eggs, bacon, and waffles. Do we have any bacon?”

  “I’ll look.”

  “Jane, tell me again why you clean houses?”

  “To make money, Jake.”

  “Yeah, but don’t you have money? I mean, I thought you Adlers had money.”

  “My parents have money. And I have work, so, that’s like having money, in its own special way. You wouldn’t know.” Jane rounded the corner into the kitchen. The sun had yet to rise. The kitchen windows were black as night above the checkered café curtains.

  “It’s too early for sarcasm.” Jake caught up with her, but bumped into the doorjamb. He leaned on it, making puppy eyes at Jane.

  “My apologies.”

  “I understand jobs, but if your parents have money why aren’t you a sorority sister like Phoebe?”

  “Where is Phoebe, by the way?” Jane turned on the kitchen lights. She went straight for the coffee pot. She could not manage Jake at five in the morning without coffee.

  “She’s at school still. No point in coming here until the funeral, right?” Jake shuffled into the kitchen, and heaved himself onto a stool.

  Jane rested her hands on the kitchen island. “Jake, I’m a little worried about you. Your parents…”

  “Are dead. I know.”

  “But how are you doing? Do you know what the stages of grief are? It’s early, I know, but I think you may be in shock.” The coffeemaker burbled in the background. It was beginning to smell like something worthwhile. Jane took a deep breath, letting her nose fill up with the smell of hope.

  “I’m self-medicating. It works. Where do we keep the bacon?” Jake opened the refrigerator.

  “What time did you get in last night?”

  “What are you, my mom?” Jake tucked his head into the fridge like a dog digging for a bone.

  “I’m just concerned.” Jane found her favorite coffee mug. She drummed her fingers on it, waiting for the coffee machine light that indicated she could commence with waking up.

  “If a young man in crisis is going to properly self-medicate he can’t be expected to come home, okay? It takes a full night to wipe away the grief.” Jake pulled himself out of the refrigerator. “There isn’t any food in there.”

  “I can’t believe you are joking about this.” Jane couldn’t wait any longer. She pulled the stainless steel carafe out of the machine. There was almost enough in it to fill her cup. She took a drink. It was probably psychosomatic, but it helped. She stood up a little straighter.

  “I can’t believe you are a housekeeper. Look at yourself.” Jake stood in front of the fridge with the door still open.

  Jane replaced the coffee carafe. She didn’t answer. She knew what she looked like right now. And, if her hopes for her future came to pass, she would look a lot worse than this more often than not. The two-thirds world was not a glamorous place.

  “But really, what happened? I mean, what, we graduated high school like yesterday and you’ve come to this already? You need to come out with us tonight, like old times.” Jake leaned against the open door of the refrigerator.

  “Close the door, Jake.”

  Jake turned around. He stared at the door for a moment. He shut it, but he crossed himself first. “There, but for the grace, go I.”

  “I didn’t party in the ‘old times,’ Jake.”

  “Don’t I know it. What was with that? We had a good scene at the old alma mater. Were you playing hard to get? Because if so, it worked. You had all the boys salivating for you.” Jake slumped onto his stool again.

  “I just don’t party.” Jake looked rotten. He looked physically ill. She turned away from him. He needed coffee at least. She pulled another mug down from the cupboard. It said, “Prez Prep Key Club.” Must have been Phoebe’s.

  “We don’t have any bacon, Jane. Both of my parents are dead and we don’t have any bacon.”

  “You just got in, didn’t you?” Jane poured his coffee and set the mug next to his elbow. She wondered a bit if he would pass out and knock it over or pick it up and drink it. Jake’s eyes were red and his nose as well. He had deep bags under his eyes. “You’re still drunk.”

  “Don’t say it like that, Jane, like it’s a bad, bad thing. I’m medicating my depression and grief, remember?”

  Jane pulled the mug of coffee back to herself. “Go upstairs, Jake. Go get some sleep. And then…and then we’ll talk about your grief.”

  Jane had cried every night for three days when her parents pulled the U-haul away. Three nights of weeping in the junior suite she shared with Sam, just because her parents had moved away to Phoenix. What would she have done if they had died?

  “Janey, will you put me to bed, please?” Jake wilted over on the counter top, resting his temple against his hand. His eyes fluttered shut.

  Marjory entered with resounding footsteps. There were three early risers in the house, apparently. “Oh!” She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. “I didn’t realize. I see. Well, good then. I’ll take my breakfast in the dining room.” Marjory bounced her keen gaze back and forth from Jane to Jake.

  “She can’t, Aunty. We’re out of bacon.” Jake let his head roll off his fist. He began to sob.

  Jane closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was the family in crisis that needed her help. She could take it.

  “Get that boy upstairs. He’s a shame to look at.” Marjory stared at him with a furrowed brow.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jane took Jake by the arm and led him to the front staircase. His sobbing calmed down as they walked.

  “Janey,
will you snuggle me? I’m pretty sad.” He flopped his head over onto her shoulder.

  “Just go to bed and forget about this night, okay?” Jane whispered.

  “Please for snuggle?”

  Jake didn’t look any older than he had looked when they graduated not so long ago. His cheeks sported a barely visible blond scruff. And far from bulking up he had grown an inch or two taller, but looked ganglier. He looked so young and vulnerable, leaning on her as they marched up the stairs, that she was sorely tempted to snuggle him until he fell asleep.

  But he stank like he had washed up in a bathtub full of hooch so the tempting sympathy passed.

  “Get to bed. I’ll get some bacon so you can have breakfast later today.”

  “Janey does love me.”

  Jane pushed him into his bedroom and shut the door. He’d have to put himself to bed.

  “Ja-ane?” Marjory must have been at the foot of the stairs, her voice carried straight up to Jane.

  “Coming!” Jane scurried down the stairs.

  Marjory stood in the entryway looking out the front window. “Jane, I’m going to need a lot of help today. Do you think you can manage?”

  “It depends. I have other clients today as well.”

  “I see. And so you don’t have time in your schedule for us?”

  “I have some time, ma’am. So it depends on what you need help with.” Jane wrapped the edge of her t-shirt around her fingers. It really depended on how much per hour Marjory was willing to pay. She didn’t want to agree to anything without establishing her boundaries first.

  “Obviously this is related to our recent loss. You can see I am in no condition to go looking for more help.” Marjory looked Jane up and down, her lip curling in disgust, “You really will have to do.”

  “What is it you need?” Jane thought Marjory looked perfectly competent still, but she cautioned herself against judging too quickly. Only God knew what was going on in Marjory’s heart.

  “We are about ready to schedule the funeral. This whole house needs to be cleaned in preparation for it. I can’t imagine what you have been doing for my poor sister, but I can’t have all of the guests here with the house in this condition. Can you fit a deep clean into your schedule?”

  Jane took a deep breath. The house looked gorgeous, like always, and it raised Jane’s hackles to hear otherwise. Pamela had done nothing but praise her work. Besides, she honestly couldn’t fit a deep clean in, if for no other reason than she couldn’t get the house any cleaner than it already was, but she decided to try. She needed extra work, and this job was conveniently located. “Yes, if you don’t mind my working late evenings and early mornings to get it done, and if you will give me a list of the specific jobs you want done.” She paused and tried to smile. “My rates are fifty dollars an hour.”

  Marjory lifted an eyebrow. “Ah.”

  Jane kept quiet. Only the Crawfords paid her that much, and they had suggested it in the first place.

  “Can we set that up as an auto payment?” Marjory glanced at the computer with a frown.

  “Usually Pamela left my payment in an envelope with the day’s instructions on the first Monday of the month.” Jane squared her shoulders. This was her one shot to get her affairs in order. She didn’t want to chicken out.

  “Mondays?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then you were already paid for this week?”

  “No, ma’am. I wasn’t.”

  “Hmm…I suppose you can’t prove you weren’t paid.” Marjory pulled out the desk chair. She rested her hands on the black leather headrest.

  Jane looked Marjory in the eye. She supposed she couldn’t prove it either, but if she could get enough hours of deep cleaning in it would help make up for the loss. “Because of the lost wages I would need to be paid half up front.”

  “Indeed?” Marjory said. “Well, I’ll think about it.”

  “I plan to book my schedule this morning, ma’am. So if you would like to book me you’ll have to decide now.” Jane felt like she was holding Marjory up, rather than serving her.

  “Fine, fine. You are a live-in maid, correct?”

  Where to start with that question? “I am, but only at the recent request of Jake.”

  “You’ve moved in with Jake?” Marjory’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the chair.

  “No, ma’am. Not in the manner you are implying. The morning we met you in the office to get his car he asked me to move in as a housekeeper because the place was too big for him to manage alone.”

  “And you just jumped right on that offer?” Marjory’s lip curled up in disgust. “Now that he is going to inherit, the maid moves in.”

  “Like I said…” Jane’s voice cracked. The conversation had been going so well until the question of her housing came up. She didn’t want Marjory to think she was a gold digger. She wasn’t anything of the kind.

  “All right. That’s fine. Don’t make a scene. We’ll discuss this later.”

  Jane stood her ground for a moment. She prayed silently. The meek shall inherit the Earth. But that was the point, wasn’t it? She wasn’t trying to inherit anything. Just trying to have a safe place to sleep at night. The meek shall inherit the Earth. She may not want to marry the Roly Burger heir but that didn’t change what God was whispering to her. Be meek.

  “Yes, ma’am.” She left the room as quietly as she could. She wasn’t sure that Marjory still wanted breakfast, but better safe than sorry. She went back to the kitchen and started to cook.

  Marjory was somewhat less than impressed by the toast and fried egg, but Jane couldn’t fault herself. Buying groceries and cooking had never been on her to-do list. If Marjory wanted to add it now, she’d have to pay for it.

  As she scrubbed the yolk off the china plate, Jane wondered about the etiquette of contract negotiation during a time of mourning. Not for the first time her mind wandered back to Jake and what he might think about it. No, Isaac. She shook her head. She wanted to know what Isaac thought of this situation. Not Jake.

  She wiped the plate dry. She had better get out of the house. She had no interest in confusing her feelings for Isaac and Jake. Jane reached up to put the plate in the cupboard and got an unfortunate whiff of her unwashed self. Laundry. And a shower. She couldn’t go to her next client’s house, or anywhere for that matter, like this.

  From her spot tucked in the corner of the recently remolded kitchen Jane listened to Marjory on the phone. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. She just wanted to sneak out to her car to grab her laundry while Marjory was distracted. From what she could hear the conversation Marjory was having was complicated and heated. When Jane thought she heard the door to the late lamented-Bob’s office close, she made her break for the car.

  She felt eyes on the back of her neck as she popped open the Rabbit. She even turned around, but every curtain was closed. Jane pulled her laundry basket out of the car. If she wanted to be clean, it was now or never.

  She lugged her canvas bag of dirty clothes upstairs to the laundry room. The real problem was going to be waiting for the clothes to get clean before she took a shower. She shoved a small load in the machine, just enough for the day, and set the machine to quick wash. Had her life really come to this? Skulking about in someone else’s home trying to hide while she washed her clothes?

  She had used her own detergent in an effort to take as little as she could from the Crawfords while she stayed at the house. She sat down on the parquet floor of the laundry room and leaned against the wall. She stared at the rose-covered wallpaper across from her while her laundry spun in the machine.

  Jake was right. He was sleeping off a hangover in the other room, but he was right. The Adlers did have money. Money they would have been happy to spend on her if she had only picked a real university and a real degree. They were even willing to help her reach her goal of being a missionary, but like the washing machine, whose digital timer ticked down with painful slowness, a four-year university educati
on had sounded like it would take forever. Why should she spend four years studying econ and literature if all she wanted to do was spread the gospel to the lost?

  Jane closed her eyes and rested her face in her hands. “Oh, dear Lord, I am homeless and broke, and I am afraid it was all for pride. Who am I to say that I know better than my parents? Do you want me to call them? To quit all of this and go home?”

  “Well, I don’t. If you go home, who will wash these for me?” Jake dropped a pile of laundry next to her with a thump. “Who knew I had so many filthy clothes? Who usually does the laundry around here? I swear no one has touched my clothes since Christmas.”

  Jane lifted her head. “Shouldn’t you be asleep still?”

  “Can’t sleep. Terribly depressed. Grief.”

  She tried to read sincerity into his words, but it was difficult. “Have you given yourself the chance to grieve yet, Jake?”

  Jake turned away. He covered his face with his hand.

  There was a sharp knock at the door and Marjory stepped into the laundry room. “Jacob, leave her alone. She has work to do.”

  Jake straightened up like he had had an electric shock. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And go find your sister. She’s not answering any of my calls.”

  Jake turned and snapped his heels together. He saluted his aunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And don’t be a brat. Get out of here.” She gave Jake an awkward pat on the shoulder as he marched past.

  She turned her attention back to Jane. “You must forgive him. He’s not just young, but also obnoxious. I really don’t know what your role here was while Pamela was alive, but seeing as how Jake has hired you to be live-in staff, I have a job for you.”

  Jane stood up and tried to straighten her clothes. “Yes?” Her schedule didn’t feel like it could take another assignment, but it was better to listen first and discuss after.

  “This afternoon I have several men from the business coming over. I will need you to serve coffee and…refreshments. I don’t care what, but I need you to be on hand to prepare, serve, and clear.”

  Jane nodded, but kept her tongue.