“We’d be defending ourselves over the issue of our business solvency. We couldn’t deny that Phoebe spent time in the loony bin.”
“You need to stop calling her crazy and saying things like ‘loony bin.’” The microwave beeped. Jane took the plate out. She set it in the middle of the kitchen island, but didn’t take one.
“If you can’t laugh at your hardships…” Jake popped the cellophane wrapper on one of the sandwiches.
“It’s not your hardship.”
“Ah. There is that.” Jake took a big bite of the steaming sandwich.
“If you are concerned about the business reputation you need to have the Roly Burger lawyer sue Needles. If you are concerned about Phoebe’s reputation you have to start being respectful. Spending time in rehab doesn’t have the stigma it used to.”
“It wasn’t rehab, Jane. It was a mental health institution. Tell me that doesn’t have a stigma.”
“How you all react to the news getting leaked is how the city will react. If you have respect for your sister, so will the city. Period.”
Jake put the rest of the sandwich in his mouth.
While he chewed, Jane bit an apple. The sweet, juicy flesh was like ashes in her mouth. How was she going to tell her parents she had been kicked out of school?
“I’ve just got to keep Phoebe quiet until summer when she can go off on her soccer tour thing.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Jane managed to swallow her apple, but didn’t take another bite.
“If you’re done with that weird Daniels kid already, she seemed pretty in to him. I could maybe make something happen there. Having a new boy to toy with could distract her from wishful thoughts of matricide.”
Blood rushed out of Jane’s head. She leaned back on the counter.
“You are done with him, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know.” She wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. Unless he was the killer, of course.
“If you could decide, it would help the family. We’re all in this together, after all.”
“How well did your parents know the Daniels family?”
“Not too well. Never even appeared before the old judge in court.” Jake popped open another bagged sandwich.
“Did you see a lot of Isaac growing up? I mean, I know you didn’t like him, but did you see him much?”
“Sure. Don’t you remember him from the company picnics?” Jake stuffed most of the sandwich in his mouth, but had to bite off a small part to make it fit.
“No.” Jane grimaced as Jake chewed like a cow.
He swallowed most of it before he spoke again. “Sure you do. Weird kid. Glasses. Spiky hair. Always playing his Gameboy. Didn’t even have a DS, poor sap.”
Immediately Jane pictured the weird, spikey-haired kid who hung around the peripheral of the Roly Burger family picnics. “That wasn’t Isaac, was it?”
“Of course it was. Mom made me bring him to have someone to play with. She and Isaac’s mom were in a golf foursome together.”
Jane closed her eyes and tried to remember everything she could about the weird spikey-haired kid with the wire-rim glasses. He hadn’t seemed miserable at the company picnics, just distracted. “But wait, Jake, if that was Isaac how come he didn’t recognize Phoebe when he was her coach?”
“Would you have recognized her? She used to be so fat.”
Jane closed her mouth. Phoebe had been a very fat kid. She could see not recognizing her now if the last you had seen of her was when she was still a chubby butterball.
“For the record, Jane, I did not torment Isaac so that he went crazy and murdered my parents. He didn’t like playing with me anymore than I liked him. If you recall, I stopped bringing him to the parties around the same time you got really good looking.”
“So you don’t think he is a likely suspect?”
“He doesn’t have the kahunas, to be frank. He’d never even play tackle football with the rest of us.”
Jane took another bite of her apple. Isaac was her least likely suspect, which came as a relief.
“Unless keeping him on your suspect list means I can use him to distract Phoebe. Please say I can use him to distract Phoebe.”
“Honestly, I don’t think he is interested in being a distraction for your sister.” Isaac was interested in her, and now that she was conveniently out of school he could date her.
Jane coughed on her apple. It was convenient, wasn’t it? Had Pastor Barnes suggested this alternative to Isaac before he spoke with her? Had the two men high-fived when they came up with a great solution that could give them everything they wanted? Happy school, happy Isaac, happy Jane? If either man thought that taking the full blame for the kissing incident made her happy, they were fools. Jesus took the full blame, you know. She shoved the thought aside. It clearly wasn’t the same. Isaac had kissed her, after all. The rule was meant to prevent the men in position of authority from violating the students. Jane stared down at the apple in her hand. The snake told me to eat it.
Fine. It didn’t matter why or how, she had to accept her own role. She hadn’t needed to hold his hand at church, or pass notes, or kiss him by the fireside. She deserved a good, solid, punishment for breaking a clear rule, despite having been warned once.
“Earth to Jane.”
“What?” she snapped at him.
“Is there any more orange juice? I’m parched.”
Jane threw her apple in the garbage can. “I guess you’ll have to walk all the way around the kitchen island and open the refrigerator door to find out. Good luck with that.” Jane stormed out of the kitchen and ran all the way back to her room.
An idea had occurred to her while she fumed downstairs. She had earned disciplinary action, but that didn’t necessarily mean she had to be kicked out of school.
She got Glenda from the Harvest School of the Bible of the phone. “What classes are going on this term that Mr. Daniels isn’t teaching?”
“Oh, Jane, don’t go making more trouble for yourself.”
“Please, humor me.” Jane took a seat on the edge of her bed.
“Mornings on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday the kids are taking New Testament Survey and Tuesday and Thursday mornings they have Jesus and the Law of Moses.”
“Who’s teaching?”
“Pastor Barnes is doing the Jesus class, and Simcox is doing the New Testament Survey.”
“Can I please talk to Pastor Barnes? Is he free?”
“He is, but you’ve already had Jesus and the Law.”
“Nope, I didn’t. Last year you all offered Jesus in the Minor Prophets. May I please talk to Pastor?”
“But, honey, you already have all of your Old Testament credits.”
“Is there a better time to call back?”
“Isaac is such a nice kid, Jane. I don’t know why you are doing this.”
Jane gritted her teeth and kicked the edge of the bed. “I didn’t come to Harvest to meet a man.” She took a deep breath. “May I please speak to the pastor?”
“Hold a moment. I’ll transfer you.” Glenda’s voice sounded tired.
“Pastor Barnes speaking.”
“Pastor, this is Jane Adler, please listen to my idea and consider it.”
“Slow down. What do you need?”
“I am so sorry, and so ashamed of my bad decision. I appreciate that you want to let me walk with the class anyway, but I just can’t be kicked out. Please.”
“Jane, we’ve been over this already. I thought you would like the solution.”
“But I don’t, Pastor. I was thinking…obviously the right thing to do would be to get kicked out of Isaac’s class. But I’d really like to take your class. I haven’t taken it yet, and I can rearrange my schedule to be there in the mornings. Can’t I please?”
“You understand what this means, right? You would be an active student this term and would have to abide by the school rules until graduation.”
“Of course, of course. That’s what I want t
o do. Can’t I, please?”
“I appreciate that you are taking your studies here seriously, and your repentance sure sounds sincere to me, but you are a couple of weeks behind on my class. Think you can catch up?”
“Yes, sir. I can.” A weight of shame floated away. Jane let out a slow sigh.
“Then I will see you in two hours for class.”
“Thank you, Pastor Barnes, from the bottom of my heart.”
Jane ended the call and her phone rang immediately. “Yes?”
“Hey! How are you holding up?” It was Isaac.
“I feel much better this morning, thanks.”
“That is very, very good to hear. So, I was thinking, I’m in Portland all day today. Want to get some lunch together? I could show you around the seminary and try and convince you to transfer here.”
Jane’s arms tingled. Her guilt was vanishing. Isaac wanted to spend the afternoon together, what could be better?
“It could be like a new first date.”
Date. “Ah, well, there’s a kink in the plan,” Jane said. “I sort of am taking a different class at Harvest now. So, you know, no dating for me until I finish.”
“Oh.”
“I had to do it. I…” She searched for the word. Failing made her miserable? She hated losing? She was ashamed to tell her parents she got kicked out? It sounded suspiciously like pride. Had she chosen pride over Isaac? “Well, anyway, it’s only until May. If I can’t wait until May to go have lunch then I have a serious self-control problem.”
“Yeah.” Isaac’s voice registered chagrin. “I don’t blame you, you know.”
“That’s a relief, because May 25th still looks free.”
“Then put my name on it, okay?”
“All right, but I think I’ll see you Saturday, at the funeral.”
“Okay. I’ll see you at the funeral.”
Jane hung up. She set her phone on the side table and stared at it. There was always a cost, whether you were doing the right thing or the wrong thing. She just wished she knew which one she had done.
Rearranging her schedule went off without a hitch, though she wondered how long her clients would stay flexible for her. Class went off without a hitch as well. Plenty of whispers and snide comments from her classmates, but she would take that over failure any day.
Chapter 25
The hot shower washed away some of Jane’s tension Wednesday afternoon. Her Tuesday client had been flexible enough to let her come on Wednesday, but it was a backbreaking day of work. Every piece of upholstery in the fifteen room home had needed steam cleaned. Whether as a punishment to herself or just because, Jane didn’t know. She just let the hot shower drum against her aching shoulders.
Back in her bedroom, she had a message waiting on her phone. “Hey, Janey, this is mom. We’re waiting outside of your apartment, but it looks like you are at work. We’re going to get going now—dad wants to stop and see the old restaurants. Call us when you are back in.”
Mom. Jane vaguely remembered that today was the day they were coming up for the funeral. She shivered. She had to call them back, but she didn’t have to like it. She pressed send with a shaking finger.
“Hey, Mom!”
“Sweetie! We’re outside of Hazelton at the first restaurant. How was work? Or was it school this morning?”
“Work. It was hard! I’m exhausted.”
“We’re headed back up to town to see the second restaurant. Want to meet us there for a late lunch?”
“Dad remembers he sold out, right?”
“Of course, silly. We heard rumors about the switch to healthy food. I think he just wants to say goodbye one more time.”
“That sounds good. I’ll meet you at the second restaurant.”
“That’s the one in town, remember? On Fourth and Mill?”
“Of course I remember, Mom. That’s the one I worked at.”
“See you in about twenty minutes, okay?”
“Okay, love you.” Jane hung up. In twenty minutes she had to tell her parents exactly how badly her life had fallen apart in the last two weeks. She’d have to let them buy lunch first.
It didn’t take even ten minutes to get to Fourth and Mill. Jane sat in her little car, waiting for her parents, and watching the protestors. She hadn’t known they’d be here, but they seemed to be hitting all the Portland locations, so she wasn’t surprised either.
This group of protestors looked rowdy. She counted four faux-hawks and one real set of liberty spikes. There were two pit-bulls on leashes and one Doberman on a chain. She tried to count the children in the group, but they were moving around too much: shinnying up and down the flag pole, climbing in, under, and around the outdoor seating.
More unnerving than the dogs or the children was the leader. Rose of Sharon was present and representing. She stood on the curb in front of the drive-through menu with a bullhorn. Jane cracked her window open to have a listen.
“Two-four-six-eight: don’t put a burger on your plate! Two-four-six-eight: don’t put a burger on your plate!”
Jane rated the cheer a D-minus for lack of originality or emotional punch. Rose of Sharon seemed to be losing her sting.
Jane decided to chat her up before her parents arrived. She sauntered over to Rose of Sharon, offering a mild smile. “Hey there.”
Rose of Sharon put down her bullhorn. “For your own sake, don’t do it. Don’t get a burger for lunch today.”
“But they have such good, roly-poly buns.”
“And so will you, if you eat this garbage. You look like a smart kid. Do you really want to destroy your body?”
“Well, no, not this afternoon anyway.”
“Then sit down with us or eat somewhere else.” She put the bullhorn back to her mouth and aimed some more cheers out to the street.
Jane was disappointed. She had hoped for a little more passion from the leader of the Human Liberation Party.
The man with the liberty spikes joined her. “Don’t be a slave to the calories, sister. Set your body free.”
Jane looked him up and down. Body ink. Piercing. That lean, hungry look of the dedicated punk. “But isn’t life about more than the body?”
“Your body is your instrument. Love it so it can make beautiful music.”
Rose of Sharon kept chanting in her bullhorn, but she nodded approval at the spiky guy.
“All things in moderation, right?” Jane said. She wanted to think of the right thing to draw Rose of Sharon out. Something that would make her confess to murder, if she happened to be the murderer.
“Moderation is for people who don’t care about life.”
The punk annoyed Jane. She turned away from him and watched the street with Rose of Sharon.
“How much must you hate Bob Crawford, right?” Jane said.
“Who?” The punk asked.
Rose of Sharon dropped her bullhorn. “Bob Crawford died. I can’t help but feel guilty. If only I had been able to get through to him sooner.”
“And Pamela too, right? Poor old girl.” Jane shook her head in exaggerated sadness.
“Yes, that poor woman.” Rose of Sharon bowed her head.
“You aren’t mad at them for the restaurant thing?” Jane raised an eyebrow at Rose of Sharon.
Rose of Sharon rested her bullhorn on her hip. “I was mad for years, but when the plans to convert the restaurants to Yo-Heavens were made public, all was forgiven. What a huge, beautiful thing to do for the city.” A car pulled into the parking lot so Rose of Sharon lifted her bullhorn again. “Save yourselves while you still can!”
Jane squinted in the distance. Still no sign of her parents. “If all was forgiven, why are you protesting?”
“It’s what Bob would have wanted. He never would have wanted these houses of death to stay open like this. They should be shuttered and draped in black in mourning for Bob, Pamela, and everyone who has died of obesity-related disease.”
“But I mean, surely it has just been delayed, right? The
plans will still go through if they were what the owners wanted.”
“But how long? How long will this city have to wait?” Rose of Sharon lifted her bullhorn again and began her chanting.
Jane was forced to admit that Rose of Sharon didn’t sound guilty of murder. The Doberman growled at her as she let herself into the restaurant, but Jane ignored him. She was down another suspect and she didn’t like it.
Moments later Jane’s parents joined her. Her father was red-faced and his jaw was working back and forth. Her mom was holding onto his arm and patting it. She looked tanner and blonder than when Jane had last seen her. They both looked rumpled like they had just gotten off of the plane.
“What is going on out there?” Jane’s father asked.
“That’s HLP, you remember them? They’ve been at this since the deaths were reported in the news.”
“It’s absolutely ridiculous. That parking lot is private property. Why don’t the police get them out of here?”
“You’ve been living in Arizona too long, Dad. This is Portland, remember?”
“Stan, relax. You don’t own this restaurant anymore. It doesn’t make a lick of difference what the protestors do. They could torch the place and you’d still be fine.”
“You say that, Nance, but I know how hard this whole transition thing is going to be. The company needs as much income before then as they can get. What does that woman out there want? The whole city on welfare? This town needs jobs!”
“Jane, just order some lunch for us all, will you? Come with me, Stan, you need to sit down.”
“Okay, Mom. I’ll get the food.”
Nancy handed Jane her wallet. “Just get me a salad, okay?”
That would make Rose of Sharon happy. Jane ordered two salads and the biggest burger she could find for her dad. When the order was up she carried it to her parents. Nancy was leaning across the table whispering to Stan, her blond, bobbed hair falling in front of her face. Stan was still fuming. He sputtered a few sentences only to be quieted by a word from his wife.
“So tell us everything, Jane,” her mom said, a smile plastered to her face.
Where to start?
Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 1 Page 19