“Sure, I get it.” Jane stood up. “I really appreciate the time you gave me.”
“I don’t think the Miters would have killed Michelle. They’re terrible with money, but they’re really nice.”
“Oh, of course! I know what you mean. But the whole conversation was helpful.”
Carrie walked Jane to the parking lot. She looked back at the school for a second, and then repeated her affirmation of the Miter family. “I mean it, they are good people.”
Jane paused. “Would you ever let kids of theirs back in the school?”
“Well, no, but that doesn’t make them killers.”
Jane smiled. Of course it didn’t. It just made them suspects. Really, really good suspects.
Beth from the event center security called Jane back shortly after Jane got home. She jumped right into her purpose before Jane could even say hello.
“I’m a bit frazzled, to be perfectly frank. I think you might know why.”
“Because Del wasn’t supposed to be at work, even though he was there?”
“That would be it. He’s on administrative leave—a disciplinary action—I don’t even know what he did.”
“Why was he pretending to be at work?” Jane perched on the edge of her seat, pen in hand. This call couldn’t have come at a better time. She could get all of her Del questions answered and then compare the Del situation with the Miter family. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t have to follow up with the questions about Michelle’s time with the HLP at all.
“It was a shift we were working together. We had plans for the day. Dumb little things you do when you’re dating a coworker. He would bring me coffee, I would page him to the office for a kiss. Just dumb stuff. But if he didn’t come, he’d have to tell me why.”
“What about the person who was supposed to cover his shift?”
“That’s a good question too.” Beth sounded exhausted. “That person seems to have colluded with Del on this little scheme, and now he’s on admin leave too…guess who has to cover all of their shifts?”
“That would be you.” Jane chuckled sympathetically.
“Yup. And I don’t have time for it. But I can’t turn it down.”
“How many of you are there in security?”
“About a dozen,” Beth said. “More like ten now, though. And that’s hardly enough. You’ve seen the place. It’s huge. And it’s open crazy hours.”
“What did Del do to get in trouble?”
“He won’t tell me, so it’s got to be bad. He’s acting all heroic about it like he’s protecting me, but that’s stupid. We’ve been together seven months now. He can tell me anything.”
Seven months. Jane stifled a smirk. Practically married. “What are you going to do now?”
“Work too much, I guess. I don’t want to be a jerk to my boyfriend at Christmas, but I need a little space if he’s not going to be honest with me.”
“Is Del from around here?”
“Sure. He’s from Gladstone. He’s always lived here.”
Gladstone? That little suburb wasn’t too far from Trillium Montessori…basically just across the river, if Jane was picturing it right. “How old is he?”
“See, that’s the other thing, older guys are supposed to be mature, responsible. Del is thirty-two, but he’s acting like he’s twelve.”
Thirty-two…Jane considered that. He was just, almost, young enough to have been in the first class at Trillium. On the other hand…he was also old enough to have a kid that went there. “Does Del have family in town? Parents, brother or sister? Kids?”
“Yeah, sure. His parents are here. He also has a brother who lives in Seattle. No kids.”
No kids… “So what do you think Del did to get in trouble at work?”
Beth sighed. “Honestly? I hate to even say it because it makes me sound like a jealous loser, but I kind of wonder if he had some girl up in the office with him. I mean, what else could it have been that he can’t tell me about?”
What else indeed? Maybe sneaking out of the office to kill Michelle Smith. Jane kept the thought to herself, but considered it carefully nonetheless. “Does the security room have a security camera on it? Could you go back and watch the video of it?”
Beth was silent. “Well, now that you mention it, I feel really stupid. There is a camera. We all know it’s there. We just don’t get to monitor it ourselves. I don’t know that it is monitored, actually, or who does it. But probably someone reviewed it, and that’s how they know what he was up to. Then again, maybe he only got caught because there was an actual security issue.”
“If you could find out more about that camera, you could find out what he had going on that night.”
“Man, I’d like to do that.” Beth sounded wistful.
“Why don’t you?” Jane desperately wanted to be invited to view the film, but tried to keep her hope out of her voice.
“It’s not a bad idea. At the least I can ask the boss about it. She might just tell me what he did, anyway.”
“Lafayette?”
“Yeah, Meryl Lafayette. She runs the show here. How did you meet her?”
“She sort of caught Del when he was walking me out. She didn’t introduce herself or anything, but I saw her name tag.”
“I’m going to talk to her. She’s bound to tell me something useful, after all, I am filling in some major gaps in her schedule on very short notice.” Beth’s voice had gotten a little of its oomph back. “Have you talked to her about the night of the murder yet? She probably knows everything the cops do. She’s got an in at the force.”
“She does?”
“Yeah, one of her kids is a cop. Anyway, I’m actually here for a morning shift. This was supposed to be my day off. I think I can catch Meryl and have a chat with her on my first break.”
“Will you call me if you think it had anything at all to do with the murder?”
“Del? Are you kidding?”
Jane tried to laugh a little. “Not Del, per se, just anything that went on that she tells you about.”
Beth was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. It will depend on what I hear.”
“I understand. Thanks for calling.”
Jane ended the call disappointed. So close to hearing something useful, and then cut off. Del was local, Del could have possibly gone to Trillium as a student, but she hadn’t gotten any information about where he went to school or if he had maybe known Michelle’s son. She could think of several horrible, nightmarish reasons why someone might want to murder their old preschool teacher, but it seemed as though if Michelle were a child abuser, someone would have hinted at it by now.
No, if Del killed her, it wasn’t likely because of something that had happened to him twenty-five years ago.
Jane hated to admit it, but she needed Rose of Sharon, so she could learn something about Michelle’s days with HLP. Once she had done that, she would have a fuller picture of Michelle Smith and the people most likely to want her dead.
But first she had to change into her work clothes. Suburban houses didn’t clean themselves.
Chapter 12
It had been a very long day. Her head was spinning from all of the news she had gathered. And it had been a very long Christmas break. In fact, it had been twelve days since Isaac had come back to town, and three since his last text message—not that she had read any of them. The twelve days of Christmas, in its own really depressing way. Jane threw her phone across the room. It landed with a soft thud in her laundry basket. She rolled over and pressed her face into her pillow so she could cry without being heard, but she couldn’t cry.
She rolled over onto her back. She was wrong. Isaac had come home from that stupid university in Canada fourteen days ago. Fourteen miserable, lonely days.
It was December twenty-ninth, and in two days she was going to have to spend New Year’s Eve alone.
Ben hadn’t replied with any information about Bang-Bang, the internet gun advocate.
Rose of Sh
aron hadn’t responded to her invitation.
Jake hadn’t called.
Gemma was moping.
And Jane had cleaned a condo on the seventh floor in a building with a broken elevator.
She pressed her pillow to her face to scream but didn’t have the energy.
Someone knocked softly on her door.
“Yes?” It came out like a bark and it felt good.
“I’m lonely.” Gemma came in and sat on the floor. “And I’m broke, and I’m hungry. Jake isn’t returning my calls, my last client delivered. Come out with me, somewhere, anywhere.”
Jane glanced towards her phone. “I should really try and…” She sighed.
“You should really lie around waiting for your phone to ring? God didn’t invent cell phones so you could stay at home.” Gemma smiled, one eyebrow raised. “Just out for dinner, or something.”
“You’re broke, so I’m buying?”
“How about we invite ourselves to someone’s party?”
Jane shook her head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“I’ve got it. It’s okay. There is a little thing going on tonight, and we can go because I was the hostess’s sister’s doula. I saw it on Twitter.”
“A Twitter party?” Jane looked out the window. It was only early evening, but it was dark as night. “A party at six? Is it a five-year-old’s birthday?”
“Nope. And it’ll be fun. We don’t leave for a couple of hours, so we have time to get absolutely adorable.” Gemma pulled Jane up by her arm. “Come on now, hair and makeup. No Plain Jane tonight.”
Gemma’s idea of a party and Jane’s were different, though Jane had to admit she hadn’t been to a real party since high school. Since then, she had sort of limited herself to church college group events…retreats, hikes, wholesome activities like that. This thing, however, was a real party.
The old Portland house off of Hawthorne was strung with colored Christmas lights and Hindu prayer flags. The front porch was deep and well-covered with a roof that had woven bamboo screens hanging from it. Despite the lightly falling snow—it was too warm for the snow to stick—a huge, furry mutt, maybe part Bernese Mountain Dog, part bear, looked plenty warm on his overstuffed plaid dog bed by the front door. He lifted his nose and sniffed at Jane’s boots. She had to agree, flowered rain boots weren’t quite the thing.
Gemma rang the bell. She greeted the girl who answered the door with a big hug and kiss and handed her a bottle of something in a paper sack. Jane knew that Christians liked their beer and wine in Portland, but the idea of a drinking kind of party made her stomach tighten. She’d never been to one before. If she didn’t drink, would everyone think she was a snob? If she did, would she make an idiot of herself, get horribly sick, and disappoint God? She gritted her teeth. Maybe there wasn’t actual drinking inside. Just a nice wine bottle as a hostess gift?
Gemma gave Jane a little push into the house. Everyone seemed to have a glass of wine or a bottle of something in their hands. It was definitely a drinking kind of party, and, as she looked around the room, she found that she didn’t know anyone at all.
Jane wandered over to the snack table and piled a plate with stuffed mushrooms, crackers topped with pimento cheese, and some kind of dinner roll thing stuffed with something that smelled good. She grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler on the floor and slunk back to a wall to eat and be miserable.
Gemma bounced from group to group. She hugged a redhead with dark brown lipstick and then held her at arm’s length, complimenting her dress. She introduced herself to a tall man with grey hair and black glasses, handsome, if you were into older men. Then she wandered into another room without a backwards glance at Jane.
Jane heard Gemma explode into laughter from the other room, even though the general buzz of conversation was pretty loud. She crunched a cracker and considered the scene. She’d bet that somewhere in the crowd, someone had a bad secret. As a potential future missionary, it was good to be able to determine which person in a group had a need that Christ could meet. As a detective in training, the ability to tell who was hiding something was invaluable.
She stopped.
Isaac wasn’t anywhere in the room. She didn’t need to lean against the wall justifying her two passions to him.
She took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen to see what else was happening at the random party Gemma had found out about through Twitter.
For the millionth time since Christmas day, a tall man with short brown hair made her catch her breath.
She slowly exhaled. Someday she’d stop thinking she saw him in every crowd.
Then he laughed.
Jane stepped back through the door.
What was Isaac doing here?
Before she could decide to run outside and catch a bus home, the hostess weaved her way through the kitchen. “Everyone gather, gather around! It’s time for traditional solstice games!”
Jane followed the hostess out and hoped Isaac wouldn’t notice her.
Most of the guests gathered in the front room. The hostess grinned, her cherry-red lips a bright spot in a room that had grown oppressive to Jane. “This is my traditional English winter solstice after-party! We’re going to play a couple of traditional games, then have crackers, and maybe, if everyone is good, Father Christmas will come!” She giggled, just a little. She was tipsy, but not totally wasted. “First game: sardines. Does everyone know how to play?”
Laughter spilled across the crowd. The grey-haired man Gemma had introduced herself to groaned. The girl next to Jane, also wearing rain boots, snickered.
“This is a big house. I’m going to turn out all the lights. You all stay here, with your eyes closed. Count to thirty while I hide. You all have to find me. When you find me, though, you have to hide with me! Got it? Last person to hide with us loses.”
Jane tried to stare at her hostess’s cherry-red lips, but it was impossible because Isaac Daniels was standing right behind her, to the left, staring at her with his big hazel eyes. And he looked sad.
Then the lights went out.
All of them.
The room was crowded and dark. It smelled like cinnamon candles, Christmas trees, vanilla incense, and Jake.
“Hang in there, kiddo. You can make it through this.” Jake’s voice was a whisper in her ear.
She reached behind her and found his hand.
He gripped it. “I don’t know who invited him, but don’t go thinking it’s fate just because you are both here.” His words were quiet, and he was very close.
She nodded, and felt his lips moving against her ear. “I invited Gemma. I’m sorry. I knew if I did, she’d bring you. But I wouldn’t have done it if I had known that weird Daniels kid would be here.”
Jake led her by the hand into the kitchen. It was also completely dark.
“I need to go home,” Jane whispered. The house was buzzing with whispers and quiet laughter, but overall, the spirit of the game was in full effect and the creaking floorboards were louder now than the voices.
“Don’t go home.” Jake stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “Please?”
Jane closed her eyes. She couldn’t see his face and didn’t want her eyes to adjust to the dark so she could. She wanted him to keep holding her hand, and keep treating her like she mattered.
She wanted him to kiss her.
She wanted him to wrap his arms around her, pull her close, and kiss her so that if Isaac wandered into the room, she wouldn’t even notice.
Jake dropped her hand. “I can take you home, if you want.” His voice was flat.
“No…don’t.”
He stepped forward, his face close to hers again, his cheek brushing hers. “That’s my girl.”
If she turned her head just a fraction, she would kiss him.
And Gemma’s heart would break.
Jane kept perfectly still.
“Do you want to go find our hostess, or sit in the living room like civilized Americans d
rinking Dr. Pepper and talking about work?”
Jane felt like her spine was frozen. She couldn’t turn her head, not even if she wanted to. “I haven’t played sardines since junior high youth group.”
“Then let’s go find Heather.” Jake grabbed her hand again and led her around the kitchen.
He twined his fingers through hers. A jolt of electricity sped from her fingertips through her whole body. The room was unbearably warm, but she couldn’t let go…or she wouldn’t be able to follow him around in the dark.
“I went to Michelle Smith’s old school,” Jane whispered. She didn’t want Jake to be her rebound boyfriend. He was too good of a friend for that. She had to talk about the case before her panic made her ruin a good thing.
“What did you learn?”
“There’s at least one family there that might want to see harm come to her.”
“Really?” Jake stopped.
Jane kept going and bumped into him.
He put his arm around her waist and led her to a far corner. He kept his voice low and his mouth near her ear, but not quite so intimately close as before. “What’s the motive?”
She took one step too many and bumped him with her knees. “They lost a lawsuit for back tuition and fees. The court ordered they pay up. Including legal fees, they owe her one hundred thousand.”
Jake let out a low whistle. He tightened his grip on her waist. “Well done.”
“I also learned that the security guard on duty that night is now on administrative leave, and that the room is monitored, so whatever he did…for example, if he left his post…has been recorded.”
“Interesting. Does he have any ties to the victim?”
“Nothing I’ve found yet. I’m still waiting to hear back from his girlfriend. She works security there too.” Talking about the case in whispers didn’t help calm her down. Every word he whispered felt like code, and every word she said felt like a promise.
“Have you worked out her connection to the protesters yet?” Jake couldn’t get any closer. She could feel the bristles of his unshaved face on her cheek.
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