She was lying.
Jane moved on. “How well do you know a Helper called Valeria?”
“Valeria Bean? She’s the daughter of an old friend.”
“How is she holding up? She seemed really upset at the event.”
“Oh…” Rose of Sharon exhaled slowly. “She’s not doing well at all. I don’t know why. I guess she’s just very tenderhearted.”
“There was another Helper sitting with her. He seemed very protective. Young guy, dark hair. Would you know who that was?”
“Probably her husband, Yuri.”
“It was really good she had him there, I think.” Jane sipped her kefir again.
“Jane…can I call you Jane? I wish you wouldn’t do that in front of me.”
“Excuse me?”
“The kefir. I just think it’s really insensitive of you to drink that after all that we’ve gone through.”
“Because it’s dairy? But it’s been fermented.” Jane held the drink at arm’s length. It was truly repulsive, but it had sounded healthy, so she ordered.
“Please. That’s just an excuse to feed a dairy addiction.”
Jane took another drink. She gagged a little. “It’s really gross.”
Rose of Sharon laughed. “God made food to give us pleasure. Not to gross us out.” She nibbled the grey-green wafer. “This one is gross too.”
“Rose of Sharon…I’m confused.”
“Good. If you’re confused, you’re thinking. Don’t put me in a box because I won’t eat hamburgers. I want to honor my body. It’s a temple of God. I want you to do the same thing.” She stood up. “I need to get to work, but if I can help you in any way, I will. I cared about Michelle, and am devastated that she died the way she did.”
Rose of Sharon left Jane sitting with the kefir, the tray of raw-food spreads and wafers, and a bowl of fruit. But she didn’t leave Jane with the bill.
Valeria and Yuri had acted suspicious after the murder. Perhaps Valeria had been sensitive, or maybe she had seen her husband cozy up to Michelle at the wrong time.
Before Jane left, she spent some time on her phone, exploring Rose of Sharon’s Facebook friends. She found Valeria Bean, and learned that she worked at a local pet store. Companions was across town, but Jane went straight there.
She recognized the nervous, skinny woman with the dishwater curls behind the counter right away. Before she spoke with her, she toured the stop. Mostly natural and niche pet supplies, but there was also a beautiful selection of birds and fish. One tank had about a dozen clown fish in it.
After her brief tour, Jane joined Valeria at the cash register. “Hey there.” She decided to give Valeria a chance to recognize her from the event, but it didn’t seem to work.
“Good morning.” Valeria smiled, but not with her eyes. She seemed distracted.
“Valeria…my name is Jane. I met you at the fundraiser you were protesting the day after Christmas.”
“Okay.” Valeria’s face blanched.
“Right now I’m working as a private detective to help solve the murder of Michelle Smith. I remember that you were pretty shaken up that night. Did you see something while you were there?”
Valeria chewed her lip. Her cheeks slowly turned red. “No.”
“Please, Valeria. Did you see anything at all? A really nice person died that night.”
“I don’t know what I saw. It was such a crowded room.”
“Did you see someone get really angry? One of the guests, maybe?”
Valeria leaned forward. “I didn’t see anything.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper, and she emphasized the word “see.”
Jane lowered her voice as well. “But you heard something?”
Valeria nodded.
“Anything you saw or heard, anything could help.”
Valeria looked around. Her coworker was helping another customer at the clown fish tank. “I heard the TV news reporter say something scary. It really scared me, but I can’t remember exactly what it was now. Do you know what I mean?”
Jane’s heart sank. She had had those times, when she couldn’t trust her own memory. “What do you think you heard?”
“The reporter was talking to a man in a black sweater. He looked mean, narrow eyed. She was quiet, but she was standing close to me.”
“What did she say?”
Valeria took a deep breath. “Remember, I don’t know if this was really it or not. She said, ‘Do it now while the cameraman is in the bathroom.’”
Jane wrote it down. “Do what? Did you watch the man in the sweater to see what he would do?”
Valeria nodded. “I did, but he just meandered his way through the crowd. I lost sight of him pretty quickly.”
“Valeria…” Jane kept her voice very low. “How long after this did the woman scream?”
A tear rolled down Valeria’s cheek. “About five minutes.”
Jane exhaled a breath she had been holding. “You knew the man in the black sweater, didn’t you?”
Valeria shook her head. “No, I didn’t, I swear I didn’t know him.”
Jane drummed her fingers on the counter. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“I didn’t know him…” Valeria exhaled slowly. “But Rose of Sharon did. Way earlier, when we were still outside, she saw him. They hugged.”
“Did she say his name?”
Valeria shook her head. “She called him ‘buddy.’ I wish she had said his name.”
“Do me a favor, please, Valeria. Please, tell the police what you heard. I know it’s not much, and you might be scared, but they need to know everything.”
Valeria nodded. “I need to?”
“Please, please do.”
Jane left with a stone in her heart. She was getting closer to the killer now, but it wasn’t pretty.
Jane had to clean two houses before she could get back to detecting. But as soon as she was done, she drove by Ben’s house. He had finally responded to her text with a halfhearted comment about how he would try and see if he could help.
Ben let her in. He was dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. The house looked like a girl had exploded in it, which kind of shocked Jane until she remembered that Ben had gotten married a couple of years ago. He cut straight to the chase.
“‘Bang-Bang Bambi’s dead’ is a name this user created just for this thread. The poster also uses ‘HuntingisZombieTargetPractice’ and just plain ‘Shoot.’”
“But what’s his real name?”
Ben smiled. “How much is it worth to you?”
Jane sighed.
“I’m kidding. His real name is Ethan Franklin-Miter.”
Miter? That couldn’t be a coincidence.
“What else did you learn about Ethan? Age? Location? School? Work?”
“He doesn’t have a LinkedIn, a Facebook, or a Twitter, none of that.”
“So he’s not a professional, and he is younger than…twenty-five?”
“He doesn’t play on Ask.com and he doesn’t have a Tumblr.”
“Older than thirteen but younger than eighteen?”
“That’d be my guess. So, take whatever he says with a grain of salt.”
“I’ve already confirmed his claim. Actually, he was wrong, but it was the kind of mistake a kid would make, I think.”
“So you can leave the kid alone now? It felt really wrong cyber stalking a kid.”
Jane scratched her ear. “Yeah, I can leave Ethan alone. But…”
“I don’t care what you do with his parents. Just leave the kid alone.”
“Of course, of course. Thanks for your help, Ben.”
“No problem. Just remember me when you want a hot new private detective website, okay?”
“Absolutely.”
Jane drove straight to Jake’s office. He had his own work to do, of course, but he might be able to help her put her new pieces together.
He was with someone in the office. Jane decided not to interrupt this time. She went back downstairs to the restaurant and
had a late lunch while she went over her notes.
The list of what she needed to learn was still a longer list than what she already knew. To start with: Who was the man in the black sweater? How did the reporter know him? Why would the reporter want Michelle Smith dead? Then there was the weirder issue of Del the security guy. Why had he been put on admin leave?
Jane pulled up YouTube on her phone while she waited for Jake. She scrolled through the local news until she found the reporter from that night. Her name was Myra Richardson. Or at least, that was her television name. Jane wondered if perhaps, her real name was Myra Miter…
Jane poked at her chicken salad. She needed an in with the television station so she could talk to Myra—and about Myra. She thought Jake had mentioned her being his contact, but he didn’t seem to have connected with her yet.
She considered the connections she had made with her housecleaning business, but she couldn’t think of anyone who had ties to television.
From the corner of her eye, Jane spotted Jake. He stood in the doorway, the pale winter sun shining on him. Sandy hair. Red plaid scarf. Wooly businessman winter coat. He didn’t really look like Joseph Gordon-Levitt, except when he smiled.
He was smiling.
The good news was that they had a case to solve while they figured out if they were a thing or not.
The bad news was Gemma.
She wished she hadn’t tried to set them up.
Jake joined her at the table. He slung his coat across the back of his chair to reveal a retro raglan-sleeved Roly Burger company shirt. “This thing with the mayor is going to send me to an early grave.” He ran his fingers through his short hair. “Between blue laws and fro-yo murders, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Jane set her phone down. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Frozen yogurt is a weak commodity in the winter anyway, but we’re also new to town, not as much fun as the fro-yo with the candy toppings bar, and now with the ‘Fro-Yo Murder’ label.” Jake shuddered. “Have you heard the new one? ‘Local Frozen Yogurt Fundraiser Sends Children’s Advocate to Yo-Heaven.’”
“That’s atrocious.” Jane pushed her salad away. “No one really said that.”
Jake picked up Jane’s phone and pulled up the local news.
Jane read the headline. “That’s, that’s…”
“Exactly. There are no words.” Jake swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving up and down. “I don’t know that I can keep the business alive.”
“Don’t say that.” Jane rested her hand on Jake’s elbow.
“This Roly Burger—the second-to-last Roly Burger, since I converted my Portland location to a Yo-Heaven over the summer—does great business on the weekends. If the blue laws take effect…” He shook his head.
“It can’t take effect before Christmas, anyway.”
Jake shrugged.
“So let’s get a Christmas tree in here. We’ll do events every weekend. Coloring contests, gifts. Freebies. Charity giveaways.”
Jake took a deep breath. “That’s a lot of work.”
“And let’s get the murder solved. Get the ‘Fro-Yo Murder’ out of the headlines and business will perk back up.”
Jake’s face was stony. “I don’t want to see my managers have to make layoffs.”
“Then tell them not to.”
“I will, for now. We can float everyone for a little while.” Jake leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I don’t think I’m doing a very good job as president of the Crawford family restaurant outfit.”
Jane chewed on her lip. Running her little housecleaning business was not the same as running the restaurant empire. “Do you have a good mentor?”
“I’ve got Aunt Marge and Jeff.”
“Who’s Jeff?”
“He’s my cousin. And the man that should be running the business. He’s like forty and worked for my dad forever.”
Jane squeezed his arm. Young heir. Experienced cousin. Cousin who would have been the heir if only Jake’s uncle had been the oldest Crawford son. “Just keep begging him for help. He doesn’t want to see you fail.”
“Good old Jane.” Jake picked her hand up and kissed it. “Until I can bend Jeff’s ear again, I need to be proactive. So let’s solve the murder.”
Jane laid out everything she had learned from both Rose of Sharon and Valeria.
“So who was the man in the black sweater?” Jake asked.
“It may have been Del, the security guy. Except Valeria saw him arrive, so it must have been the Miter guy who owed Michelle so much money.”
“Why would Myra Richardson of KMLC want to help someone kill a perfectly innocent preschool teacher?” Jake stole a piece of crispy chicken from Jane’s salad and munched it.
“Maybe her maiden name is Miter.” Jane lifted an eyebrow. This one theory seemed to tie everything else together.
“Nope. I used to date her kid sister Josie. They’re the Kerseys from Government Camp.”
“So no relation to the Miters at all?” Jane’s heart sunk. She wasn’t sure which was worse: that Jake had dated the younger sister of the beautiful reporter, or that the reporter wasn’t really Myra Miter.
“I can’t be sure that there’s no relation, but there’s definitely no close relation. She’s not the sister of or daughter of.”
“But…” Jane felt the first real glimpse of hope shining through the disappointment. Jake had dated Myra’s sister Josie. He knew Myra personally. “You’ve got an in with Myra. You could call her and find out who the man in the black sweater was!”
“Uh…” Jake pulled up a new video on Jane’s phone. It was a news clip from the night in question. Myra was talking.
“Notorious playboy Jake Crawford is trying to rehabilitate the increasingly shaky reputation of his family restaurant business by holding a fundraiser for a start-up nonprofit.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “So much for impartial reporting. What did you do to her?”
“I dumped her sister.” Jake gave an apologetic half-smile.
“For who, her bestie?”
“For you.”
“Ahh, jeeze. So neither of us can use your connection then.”
“Nope.”
“Wait. You had already dumped her by the night of the fundraiser? I only broke it off with Isaac the night before.”
“I dumped her last year, when you moved in with me.” He winked.
Jane laughed. “You have got to stop saying that or everyone will get the wrong idea.” She had known he was interested back then, but…she hadn’t known he meant it. She felt heat rising to her cheeks.
“I’ll call her anyway.” Jake resumed his serious expression. “If I suggest what we found out looks bad, and she remembers all the nasty things she said about me on TV, I might be able to get something good out of her.”
“It’s worth a shot, anyway.”
Jake tapped the screen of his phone. He grinned. “Jake Crawford, notorious playboy, how can I help you?”
Jane lowered her eyes and hid her laugh behind her hand. But she listened in to his side of the call.
“Oh, no hard feelings, of course. It’s only had forty-two thousand hits on YouTube. That’s not at all grounds for a defamation case.” Jake laughed. “No, no. I think we can work something out.” There was a long pause. Jake rolled his eyes. “Off the record? What’s that even mean? I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t need to know something.” Another pause. This time Jake ate more of Jane’s lunch. “I see. Well, I could do that. But I would feel more inclined if you helped me out, on the record.” His eyes lit up. “You always were a good girl. So, here’s the thing. One of the protesters heard you chatting with someone that we need to meet. We just don’t know his name.” Jake inhaled sharply. “Nothing like that. I think you said, ‘The cameraman is in the bathroom, go do it now.’ Or something similar. You were talking to a man in a black sweater.” Jake narrowed his eyes. “Well…I guess that would be easy enough to check. Are you sure though? We d
on’t want a guess here. We want his real name.” Jake frowned and rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll look into it and see if he was telling the truth.” Jake made a face like something stunk. “Call my assistant and she’ll see if she can fit you in.” He ended the call.
Jane sat on the edge of her chair. Her heart was racing. “Well?”
“She said she met him that night. He asked for a moment of her time when he noticed the camera was gone. She said he wanted to make a big donation, but wanted to do it anonymously. He wanted to be absolutely certain that he wasn’t on camera.”
Jane slumped back in her chair. “And she didn’t get his name?”
“No, she did. His name was Jason Miter.”
Chapter 15
Jane and Jake went straight back upstairs to go over the donation receipts. If Miter had wanted to be completely anonymous, they might be in trouble, but if he had written a check, they could prove he had been telling the truth. If there wasn’t a check, then they had to consider any particularly large cash donation as potential evidence.
Jane’s Aunt May had been manning the donations for the night and kept meticulous notes of everything that came to her. Jane thanked God they hadn’t just let Gemma handle that. If there weren’t any particularly large cash donations, or checks from the Miter family, then there was a chance he had been lying and wanted to know he could sidle up to Michelle Smith without being seen. Jane shuddered. It was a particularly repulsive killer who could viciously murder someone in a crowded room.
Of course, she had to admit that he might have left a big donation and still have killed Michelle Smith.
The list of donations was in a small, hardbound accounts book. Jane leaned over Jake’s shoulder to read it with him.
He spun in his desk chair and pulled Jane to his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist and nibbled her neck.
“This isn’t helping.” Her heart thumped, and she was suddenly too hot in her sweater.
“Yes, it is.”
His lips on her neck were like nothing else. Like chocolate, and coffee, and everything. She took a deep breath. “No, really. It’s not helping.” She stood up.
Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 1 Page 51