“What happens when you don’t pay the balance?” Jane had a small notepad out to take notes.
“We don’t make it.” She shrugged, a wistful look in her eye. “And we don’t refund the deposit.”
“But the deposit was only…”Jane leaned in. “Was it one hundred dollars or forty-five?”
Daphne took another look at the paper. “Ah. Usually it is one hundred dollars, but it looks like Bill discounted it for them.”
“And they paid cash.” Jane looked over the paper as well as she could while Miranda held it. A six-hundred dollar cake that they had put forty-five dollars down on. “When did they place the order?”
“Months ago. It looks like it was almost six months ago to the day.” The bells over the bakery door jingled. “Can you give me a moment?”
“Of course.” Miranda said. “So, what do you make of it?” she asked, as Daphne greeted the customer.
“It feels a little like they never intended to get the cake, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps.” Miranda watched Daphne as she served the customer. “Excuse me,” she interrupted Daphne. “We’d like to take a copy of this, would that be possible?”
“Sure.” Daphne turned back to the customer—a young woman with bright eyes and a baby in a backpack.
Miranda took out her phone, played with the settings, and took a picture. She played with her phone a little more. “There. That will be waiting for us on the printer.” She picked up a sample book and flipped through it.
Jane examined the goods in the refrigerator case. The prices were higher than she had expected. There were two bakeries in town well known among the wedding vendor set, but this place wasn’t one of them. If you were going to fake a wedding, an out-of-the-way bakery would be a good place to do it at.
“Excuse me.” Daphne took the sample book from Miranda and passed it to the young mom.
“Thank you for your time. If we have more questions is there a good time to call you?” Jane felt for the baker. She was out the six hundred dollars or so for the cake, after all.
Daphne glanced at her customer. “Evening is best. We close at 6:30. Any time after that and you should be able to get someone on the phone.”
“You mentioned someone named Bill…he took the order originally?”
“Yes, my husband.”
“Is evening a good time to reach him as well?” Jane kept her smile warm and her posture open. She didn’t want to pressure Daphne, but she did want to know a little more about the big deposit discount.
“Usually. Or if you call, I can get him for you.”
The bells jingled again as Miranda walked out.
“Thank you.” Jane gave a small wave and hurried after Miranda.
“That discount on the deposit is pretty interesting, don’t you think?”
Miranda made a humming noise and pulled out into traffic.
“It could indicate fraud, or maybe even collusion. I wonder what Cascadia Surety would say about the bakery being in on it.” Jane gripped the door handle as Miranda whipped around a corner.
“The caterer is across town.”
The lack of acknowledgment for her idea annoyed Jane, but she decided not to let it stop her. “If she really did plan a fake wedding, put her poor mom into such a state, order a bunch of services she never intended to buy…” Jane felt like she had taste something sour. “That’s a lot of fraud. And it really makes a case for the game community accusations against her integrity.”
Miranda pulled onto the highway like she was being chased.
“But even if she was as awful as everyone claims—and just seeing her mom makes me think defrauding the insurance company on this wedding would have been terrible—it doesn’t justify the horrible things the gamers are doing. You know? No matter how bad someone is, they don’t deserve what she’s getting.” Jane Googled Maggie again to see if there was anything new on the internet. There was plenty of new content—literally hundreds of posts—but no new information. She let the phone sit on her knee.
“We were hired by the insurance company to research the wedding. Leave the gamers fight out of it.” Miranda’s first words sounded tired. When she said earlier that she didn’t like investigation, she must have been painfully sincere.
“We can’t really leave it out. If she had intended to get married, and someone mad at her about the game thing has done something to the groom, then it wasn’t fraud.”
“One step at a time.” Miranda flew onto the off ramp and came to a screeching halt at the light.
The caterer was surrounded by other similar businesses, a wedding dress shop, a florist, even a print shop. Jane made a note of the location. She did have her own wedding to plan, after all.
The caterer was on the phone when they entered the shop. Jane gravitated towards a rack of menus. The items seemed pretty standard, at least compared to any wedding she’d been to lately. Chicken kabobs, mini quiche. That kind of thing. No prices were listed. Perhaps it was the kind of place where if you needed to ask, then you couldn’t afford it. The interior made her doubt that, though. Cramped room with concrete floors, chipped countertop. Big box store lighting. Nothing said “Luxe” to her.
The man behind the counter hung up. “Can I help you?” He looked from Miranda to Jane as if trying to read their body language.
“Yes. We’re investigating a case of potential fraud on behalf of Cascadia Surety.” Jane held up the card Miranda had given her to use at the coffee shop. The caterer whose name badge said “Steven” didn’t even glance at it.
“How can I be of service?”
Before Jane could answer, Miranda spoke. “We are interested in the catering order for the Frances-Fish wedding. The mother of the bride said they had hired you all to cater the event which was supposed to have taken place last week.”
Steven frowned. “Fish-Frances? Let me check.” He turned to the tablet that stood in for a cash register and tapped the screen a few times. “Ah. Here it is.” He turned the screen for Jane and Miranda. “We opened an event for them, but they didn’t make a deposit. The event is listed as cancelled, but technically, it was never started. Is that all?” He swiveled the tablet back his direction.
“Would you mind making a print of that for us?” Jane asked. Her heart was in her stomach. Fraud. All signs pointed to fraud. Which meant the murder was just a horrible event on the periphery of their own investigation and not remotely related.
“Sure.” He tapped the screen a few times, then reached under the counter for the paper.
Miranda took it. “Thanks so much.” She walked out without another word.
Jane hesitated at the counter. “If we have any more questions, who should we ask for?” She held her pen over her little notebook.
Steven looked at the screen again. “Ask for Don. He opened the event.”
“Will do. Thanks.” Jane scribbled the name of the shop and Don on her pad. She refused to hurry to the car, even though she could hear Miranda revving the engine.
She got in slowly and took her time buckling up. “So, in a hurry much?”
Miranda got the car back into traffic before she answered. “This is a simple fraud case, and I do have other work to do. If we can just get the information on paper, I can get back to the office and you can spend as much time as you want pouring over the papers. Sorry if my regular work is inconvenient to you.”
Jane tried to count to ten but only got to six. “Asking a couple of questions, like, for example, ‘if we have further questions, who should we ask for?’ doesn’t take any time and could be invaluable. And if you didn’t have time to come with me, you should have said so.” Jane gritted her teeth.
“I’m glad you’re an expert.”
Miranda’s mood had gone from no good to a lot worse over the course of the day. Jane was beginning to think the problem was chemical. As in: hunger. She pulled a granola bar from her purse and dug in. When it was half gone, she held another one out, “Want one?”
; Miranda gave the granola bar the side-eye, but took it.
They went to the florist in silence, Jane wishing Maggie had had the sense to use the florist next door to the caterer. Her fraudulent wedding had been inefficiently planned.
The florist was immediately sympathetic. “Oh, that was such a beautiful floral plan. I remember it very well. Such a heartbreak that she got stood up.” The grandmotherly woman who owned Bobbi’s Bouquets shook her head. “I’m so glad to hear she had it insured.” While she spoke, she gingerly set an arrangement of roses and baby’s breath into a shipping box. “I don’t do many ten-thousand dollar weddings.”
Miranda sneezed. Her eyes were already very red. The small shop was strongly scented—fresh flowers.
Jane inhaled deeply, thankful she wasn’t afflicted with Miranda’s curse. “Would you mind letting us have a copy of their paperwork? The order, the invoice, any receipts.”
“Not at all. Give me just a moment in the back.” Bobbi left the roses where they were and bustled into an office with her name on the door.
Miranda sneezed again.
“Sorry about this,” Jane said. “Want to wait in the car?”
“Yes.” Miranda didn’t move. “But I’d better not.” She didn’t sound as cranky as she had earlier, so perhaps the granola bar had done the trick.
Bobbi came back with a sheaf of papers stapled at the corner. “This is everything.” She frowned. “Poor girl.”
Jane accepted the papers. “Before we go, you said it was a ten thousand dollar order? Did she pay it in full in time for the wedding?”
“Oh yes.” Bobbi sighed. “I marked the check numbers down on the invoice. She paid half when she ordered it and half a month before the wedding. I was a little worried because the balance was late, but she got it done, and the checks cleared.”
“Hmmm.” Jane flipped through a couple of pages. “And you took the order yourself?”
“I arrange all of the weddings myself.”
Miranda sneezed four times in rapid succession.
“We’ve got to run. Can I call you if we have any further questions?”
“Of course.” Bobbi taped up the box with the rose arrangement. “Mornings are best.”
“Thanks.”
Miranda was in the car before Jane got her last word out.
“Why,” Jane asked once she was in the car, “would she flake out on the food but make sure her flowers were paid in full?”
Miranda sneezed again. “Gah. I hate florists.”
Jane went through the flower order carefully. “So, no ideas?”
“Maybe she likes flowers better than food.”
Jane pulled her eyebrows together and frowned at the papers. Whatever good the granola bar had done, the flowers had undone it. She was clearly on her own again, which she preferred anyway.
Chapter 5
The next day went by in a whirlwind. Jane sunk into her couch, a cup of hot tea in her hand. The evening had turned cold and misty, and after a long day cleaning houses, she was ready to zone out. Balancing her cleaning clients and the SCoRI work was going to be a challenge. She found herself thinking only of Maggie, Maggie’s many crises, and the murder of Devon Grosse while scrubbing toilets. It was so bad that she left a load of clothes in the wash at her first client’s house and didn’t remember until well after lunch. Fortunately she had been able to get in, get them dry, and get back out before anyone more than the kid who mowed their lawn saw her.
The day before, after running around with cranky Miranda all afternoon, she had had some time alone with her collected papers to study and theorize. Her best theory was that Maggie had switched vendors for the food and had not informed her mom of the change. When she reported back to Flora, Flora agreed, but there was nothing to do about it at the moment. Everyone in the office felt that Maggie needed a little time before someone from their office contacted her, and right now, Maggie was the only one who would know about food and cake vendors.
Now Jane sat in her living room with the cozy light of a few scattered candles, her tea, and Jake.
Jake was quieter than usual.
“How are things with the Big Donor?”
“It’s going all right. We’re meeting at Ginger Pop tomorrow to work on our itinerary.”
“That sounds fun.” Schmoozing on behalf of charity was a pretty cool gig. Jane half wished she could make up the rest of her rent by taking old men out to dinner instead of by scrubbing toilets.
Jake rolled to his side and snuggled up against Jane. “I don’t want to talk about work.” He nibbled her earlobe.
Heat rushed over her face in waves, and she scooted a tiny bit away. “Anything good on Netflix?” She picked up the remote. She had no interest in being a statistic, but dating as an adult with your own place made it hard to keep her hands to herself, so to speak.
Jake leaned his head on her shoulder. “I don’t want to watch TV.” His tone matched his body language. Mopey.
“We could play cards.” Jane shifted, but picked up his hand in hers. No need to make him feel rejected, after all.
“You said you might have an answer for me today.” Jake sighed.
“It’s only Friday.” Jane squeezed his hand. “And I haven’t had a lot of time to think.”
Jake sat up and pressed her hand to his lips. “I know.”
“Seriously, though, let’s play cards, or go out.” Jane shifted to the edge of the couch. “I have no idea when Gemma is getting back.”
“I just want to take care of you,” Jake whispered, this time the put-on mopey tone gone, but his big, brown eyes were full of honest emotion. “If you promise we can have a real talk about it tomorrow, I will pretend I’m not dying inside while I wait for your answer, and I will let you pick the show.”
Jane snuggled back down into the crook of his arm. “It’s a deal.” She reached for her remote, but her phone rang.
“Digame,” Jake answered. In Spanish. “No, I’m sorry, she isn’t available.”
Jane held out her hand, but he didn’t put the phone in it.
“Mostly because she is on a highly romantic date right now, and while I believe her work is significant and valuable, I don’t want her to work during our very romantic date.”
Jane grabbed for the phone but Jake turned away.
“I’m sure you do have a problem with her coming to your house. But you know what? I’ve got an even bigger problem with it because as far as I can tell, you’re kind of a jerk.”
“Jake, stop!” Jane’s heart was beating out of her chest. He had to be talking to Maggie. “Give me the phone.”
“You know what? Based on the heat of your words, I can only assume you are absolutely correct, and that the love of my life is a stupid parasite trying to gain fame and fortune from your troubles, but the reality is, she was hired by your insurance company to do a job. If you have a problem with that, take it up with them.” Jake stood up and walked away.
Apparently he had meant it when he said he wanted to take care of her. She got up and shadowed him. She wanted to tackle him and wrestle the phone away from him, but at the same time, she kind of wanted to hear what else he had to say. She did, however, place one hand over his as it held the phone, and her other hand on his waist, ready to grab it at the drop of a hat.
“All you have to do is call your insurance company and ask them who they hired to investigate. I know for a fact that whatever you were getting up to online with the whole game thing has nothing to do with this.”
Jane pulled the phone away from his head so she could hear the other end.
“Unless, of course, your fiancé was killed by one of the lunatics that is.”
She grabbed it, twisting it out of his hand. “I am so sorry. That was absolutely insensitive of Jake and I can’t believe he said it.” She was breathless, getting the words out as fast as she could.
“What?” Maggie sounded breathless as well, as though she had spent all her air on yelling at Jake.
“I am sorry for how he spoke to you just now. The last thing you want to think about is Kyle being dead.”
Maggie made a sound like suppressing a sob.
“I know you wanted me to stay away, but your insurance company hired us, and I had to do my job. I tried to do it respectfully.”
“Yes.” The word was clipped, and followed by a deep breath.
“And I know you are going through the worst thing ever.”
Maggie paused. “Right.”
“And I would be angry, too. But, I swear to you, I am not part of the angry mob. I want to prove your wedding wasn’t fake so you can get your insurance settlement.”
Maggie exhaled loudly.
“And…I think I can. If only you could answer a few questions for me. If you could, then I could file the report and you could be on your way to recouping your losses.” Jane twirled her hair around her finger and took a deep breath. Maggie was calmer, and maybe she would play along.
“What do you need to know?” There was an edge to Maggie’s voice, but she was using whole sentences. Baby steps.
“Who did you end up getting to make the wedding cake?”
“No cake.”
“Er…” Jane chewed her lip. “I see. What about the catering?”
“We hired the college to do the catering. They were going to make a sundae bar instead of a cake.” Maggie swallowed another sob. “Kyle loves ice cream.”
“I see! So the other vendors, the one your mom had listed, you had changed your mind?”
“Yes. See, Kyles’s aunt…” Another deep breath. Maggie may have had a short fuse, but she was working hard to keep it together. “Kyle’s aunt runs the culinary arts department at the community college. She really, really wanted to do this for us.”
“Ah! Can I have her name and number and maybe a copy of your receipts?”
“Yes, of course. But not over the phone. I don’t trust that the line is secure. I don’t want the VoP crowd to have her information.”
“I understand.” Jane gave her lock of hair a little tug. Was Maggie lying? Surely not.
“Come and see me at work tomorrow. It’s better to meet in a public place. Nonessential Trivia, in the Pearl. Do you know how to get there?”
The Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 2 Page 23