The Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 2

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  “At the rehearsal, before the dinner. He didn’t go with us to the restaurant afterwards.”

  “Would you have expected to hear from him in the meantime?”

  “At least at the wedding. He was best man.”

  “But neither he nor Kyle showed up for the wedding.”

  Ayla nodded.

  “Then the two situations just have to be related. Do you think Kyle would have gone over to Devon’s office after the rehearsal?”

  “He didn’t say anything, but he might have.”

  “If we went there, could we get in?” Jane was on the edge of her seat now. She wanted to dig into the scene of the crime, or at least a place close to the scene.

  “Oh no. He said he’s got several locks and an alarm. Plus his window is nailed shut. I’m sure that was against fire code, but he was really paranoid about his security.”

  “Where did he live? Could we get into his place?”

  “Kyle has a key. Had. Has.” She closed her eyes. “He might have given it to Maggie. I can call her and ask.”

  “Okay.” Jane leaned back in her chair to give Ayla a little privacy, but Ayla just texted.

  “She’s working, I’m sure, but she’ll get back to us as soon as she can.”

  “Do you and Maggie get along?” Maggie had seemed far from edgy—not the first person Jane would picture as Ayla’s bestie.

  “Well enough. I like her, even if she’s hard to get along with.” Ayla’s phone chirped so she checked her text.

  A movement at a table to Jane’s left caught her eye. She turned to see a man looking her way. He quickly bent over to dig something out of his messenger bag, so all she could see was his wavy black hair. Jane kept him in eyesight, though she tried to look like she was looking somewhere else. Something about his furtive movements made her think he was trying to keep her from seeing his face. Eventually he had to sit up again. He did, and he caught Jane’s eyes, but looked away. He wore thick, dark framed glasses, and had a scar on his chin.

  It was the man who was impersonating a SCoRI detective.

  She must not have been subtle enough in her appraisal of the man, because he glanced her way again, and his eyes went wide. He shoved his book back into his messenger bag and stumbled up from the table.

  “There’s a hidden spare,” Ayla said.

  “Even though he was a security nut?”

  Ayla shrugged “Maybe he didn’t keep anything at home that he had to worry about.”

  The black-haired man wrestled with the messenger bag while he tried to hurry out. He knocked it into the back of a girl waiting in line for coffee. She glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

  “Come on,” Jane whispered. “We have to follow that guy.”

  Chapter 7

  Jane bumped the same lady as she hurried after black-haired-fake-detective, only this time the lady didn’t just scowl.

  “Watch it!” She pushed Jane into Ayla, who had gotten up slowly, with confusion plastered across her face.

  “Sorry!” Jane turned and eased past the line, only bumping one other customer. She was fast enough to catch black-haired-guy getting into a gray Honda.

  Jane waved Ayla over as she got into her own little car. “Hurry. We have to see where he goes.”

  Ayla barely got the door shut again before Jane took off.

  “Someone pretended to be from our detective agency and was bothering Maggie. He fits this guy’s description. I think he was following one or the other of us, and I want to see where he goes.” Jane stayed close to his tail, even though he wove in and out of traffic.

  He got onto Highway 99 and put his pedal down, almost getting out of her sight.

  She sped up, but her heart was in her throat and she couldn’t bring herself to go over seventy-five. A white nosed car in her rearview reminded her enough of a police car that she slowed back down to fifty-five and lost him entirely.

  “Dang it.” She smacked her steering wheel.

  Ayla stared out the window and laughed. “Looks like he slowed down.”

  In the far distance a police car sat on the side of the road, lights flashing. He had pulled someone over.

  When they finally made it that far, they confirmed it was their guy. “Oh man, I so wish I could see what his ID says.” Jane muttered.

  “Pull over.” Ayla hissed.

  “What?”

  “Your tire just went flat, pull over.”

  Jane wrenched the wheel to the side and pulled over. “What? Are you kidding?”

  “Of course I am. But I think it did, don’t I? And I think we need help.” Ayla hopped out of the car. “Just pull the cap off your back right tire. I noticed it was a little low earlier.” She ran toward the Honda.

  Jane got out gingerly. Cars zipped by on the highway. She went around the side of her car. The back tire was a little low, but not flat. She dropped to her knees and twisted the cap off. She tucked it into her pocket. She had a spare, and she knew how to change it, but if pretending she didn’t meant she could find a little something out, she was more than happy to try it.

  Ayla didn’t hurry back, so Jane got the car up on the jack. The tire looked less not-flat since it wasn’t resting on the ground anymore.

  She shaded her eyes and looked back.

  The officer was facing Ayla, his arm a stiff arrow, pointing back at Jane.

  Ayla held up her hands, attempting to appear helpless. The many tattoos and general buffness of her arms in their short sleeved shirt didn’t support the act.

  Jane’s phone rang.

  She held her breath, but glanced at the phone.

  It was Rocky. Bad timing. She’d ignore it.

  But Ayla was a grown woman. She could probably handle the situation. Jane looked at her phone again. What could her new boss want?

  She shaded her eyes and watched Ayla, who was trying hard to get the officer’s attention.

  The cars whizzed by with head crushing noise—and speed.

  Jane wouldn’t be able to hear Rocky even if she did answer.

  The ringing ended.

  Jane took a deep breath.

  The ringing started again.

  It had to be urgent if he was still trying to get through.

  However, Jane’s hand was almost shaking too much to answer the call.

  “This is Jane.” She forced herself to look away from Ayla.

  “Hey kiddo. This is Rocky. I have a bunch of notes on my desk, but I don’t know what they mean.”

  “My notes?” Jane frowned. Had she left notes on Rocky’s desk? Did she know where Rocky’s desk was located?

  “Sure they are. About cake. Is this the insurance case? Because I think you meant to give these notes to Flora, but she likes a summary page with the notes so I wanted to call you and tell you that.”

  Jane couldn’t help it, she looked up at Ayla again. The officer was facing Ayla, his mouth opened wide like he was yelling at her. “A summary page?” Jane closed her eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am. She wants one page, formatted like a school essay telling her what you did all day.”

  “I can do that.”

  Jane turned toward Ayla again and immediately wished she hadn’t.

  “You should probably come by this morning. I’ll teach you how to write up a good summary for Flora, and also a concluding report.”

  “I am in the middle of…something right now.” Jane leapt to her feet and ran to Ayla.

  “Hold it!” The cop turned to her, his voice surprisingly clear over the roaring traffic.

  “Something Flora sent you on?” Jane could barely hear Rocky’s voice over the thudding of her panicked heart.

  “I’ve got to go.” Jane hung up on her boss and held her hands up, phone facing out. She ran to Ayla without stopping to think about it. “I’m so sorry, officer!” She hollered out when she was two-thirds the way there.

  The officer spun to her, his hand out, in the universal sign for stop.

  “She just wanted to know if—�
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  “Stay where you are.” His hand was on his hip.

  His hip. Did he have a gun?

  Jane stayed put. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Really sorry.” The words kept coming even though she wanted them to stop.

  “Drop it!”

  “It’s just a phone.” Jane wasn’t sure that her voice carried as well as his.

  “I said drop it.” The officer took a step towards Jane.

  Jane opened her hand. Her phone fell with a crack.

  “She’s a detective.” Ayla shouted, stepping towards the cop.

  The Taser came out faster than Jane could have imagined.

  Ayla waved her arms.

  The cop lifted the Taser.

  Ayla kept coming, her arms out, like she was going to reach for the weapon.

  He aimed the Taser.

  Ayla jumped, like she had been, well, Tased. She shook all over, her tattooed arms quivering like she was having a seizure.

  The Honda engine revved.

  Surely their guy wasn’t running.

  “Against the wall.”

  Jane backed up.

  Ayla was just lying there, her arms flung out from her body.

  The cop turned to Ayla. “You too.” He waved toward the wall.

  Ayla rolled onto her side and curled up.

  The cop turned back to the Honda.

  Cars sped past on the highway, making it impossible to hear what the cop said, but eventually he came back to the girls.

  “Never interrupt an officer of the law while he is in the middle of a traffic stop.”

  Jane narrowed her eyes. The cop’s voice was firm, and loud, but his eyes were big, and looked scared. She guessed he wasn’t any older than she was. “I am so sorry.”

  “How dare you Tase me! I have rights.” Ayla pulled herself up to sitting, her pale face rigid with anger.

  The cop frowned. “You need to get yourself under control.”

  “It’s because of my tattoos. I know it.”

  “Are you kidding? This is Portland. My mom has more ink than you. It’s because you came at me like you were going to knock me down.”

  “Who me?” Ayla looked honestly shocked.

  “It did kind of look like that from where I was.” Jane spoke louder, to be sure she was heard.

  The cop eyed the phone on the ground. “Did you get it all on video?”

  “No.” And even if she had, Jane doubted it would be any good. The phone had hit the pavement with a very ominous sound.

  He squared his shoulders. “I’m calling the paramedics to check you out. If you are okay, I’ll send you on your way. If you aren’t, they’ll take you to the ER.”

  “Am I under arrest?” Ayla’s jaw quivered.

  The Honda revved its engine again, and backed up, pointing its nose out, to make a shot for the road.

  The cop took a deep breath through his nose. “No. But I am writing you up a ticket.” He whipped out his notebook.

  “What for, for getting Tased?” Ayla made a shaky attempt to stand.

  “Ayla, sit down.” Jane laid her hand on her shoulder.

  “For interfering.” He scribbled, then ripped the paper off.

  Ayla crossed her arms. “That’s not a thing. You can’t do that.”

  “Ayla stop. He’ll arrest you,” Jane hissed.

  The cop turned his back on her, and spoke on his phone. Apparently he had meant it when he said he was calling the paramedics. He didn’t say another word to them for the next seven minutes. When the ambulance arrived, he only spoke to the paramedics.

  The whole time Jane stared at her phone, wishing she could check that it was okay, wishing she had backed up all of the pictures she had taken of evidence.

  Ayla sat back against the guard rail, arms crossed over her chest. She did let the paramedics check her vitals. When she was released, free to go home, she spit.

  The officer snarled at her but the paramedics were still packing up their equipment, so he went back to his car, as Jane and Ayla went to theirs.

  Jane was overjoyed that she didn’t have to bail Ayla out of jail—or get bail for herself. But this girl was a live wire, and Jane would have to handle her with care. On their escape from the side of Highway 99, she tried to bring up the scene they had just had, in a calm way. “So…what were you saying to the officer?”

  “I was begging for help.”

  “With all the wild hand waving?”

  “All that traffic was so loud. I thought I would use my body to show how panicked I was so he would know we were seriously in need.”

  “But we weren’t.”

  “Sure we were. We were seriously in need of that guy’s name.”

  Jane drummed her fingers on her steering wheel. “It’s not okay to lie to cops.”

  Ayla laughed softly. “Clearly you haven’t had a lot to do with cops.”

  “Excuse me?” Jane was at the end of her rope with being treated like an amateur. Sure, she was an amateur, but did everyone have to treat her like this was her first murder? “This is my fourth murder. You don’t solve a murder without working together with the police.” Jane gripped the steering wheel with a white knuckled effort. “And in all of those murder investigations, I have never been ticketed for interfering, or Tased.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I guess if you want to be on the side of the police, you’ve achieved it.” Ayla’s voice was dismissive.

  “If you want murderers to pay for their crime, you are automatically on the side of the police.”

  Ayla sighed. After a long pause, she spoke. “I hate that, but you’re right. At least on the one thing.”

  “Okay then.”

  “Okay.”

  “So no more aggravating the cops during the investigation.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Ayla stared out the window quietly for a while. “The next left takes us almost to Devon’s place.”

  “Perfect. Direct me that way.”

  The building was older, but well maintained. It reminded Jane of the kind of place grandparents might live. Or bachelors, which made sense. From the front, the units each had their own stoop. The building was well shaded by evergreen trees, but the sidewalks were clear of tree-litter and the roof was moss-free. A light breeze cooled off Jane’s overheated emotions. She could do this sleuthing in a calm and collected way, in spite of their crazed car chase.

  Jane circled the building. The community only had ten units, five on each side, and no large community room/office. The area behind the building was long, narrow, very green lawn, sheltered from the neighborhood behind it with a long and tall Cherry Laurel hedge.

  She couldn’t be sure which unit was Devon’s but she suspected it was the one with silver insulation in the windows. Perhaps, in addition to fearing for his security from criminals, he had also been a little wary of aliens.

  Ayla pulled what hair she had into a short ponytail. She tipped her thumb to the other building. “His is number seven.”

  Jane had guessed wrong. She joined Ayla at the door to Devon’s place.

  She held her breath as they stepped into the apartment. Little red and green lights blinked around the room from the various appliances and devices he had plugged in, but otherwise, it was dark. His curtains, which had looked pretty unremarkable from the outside, did a good job blocking light. The apartment smelled musty and unused.

  Jane flicked on the lights and took a deep breath.

  Ayla ran her hand across the back of a leather chair.

  “I’d like to look in his office,” Jane said. “Maybe we’ll find a note about him needing to meet someone.”

  Ayla didn’t respond.

  Jane peaked in one room. Bed. Dresser. She shut the door. The next room looked like a computer lab. Three walls were flanked by long folding tables, and each table had a few monitors. The floor was stacked with computer towers. One of the three tables was covered in wires and other…bits. Parts of the insides of computers.
r />   There was almost no paper in the whole room.

  Jane looked around for the tower—or server—that might be running the room, but none of the buttons she pushed did anything.

  She tried the monitors, but though they fizzed into life, they also went to “sleep” almost immediately. She couldn’t find the button that powered the room.

  She turned her attention to what little paper there was. Two sticky notes, to be exact. One said: Donor gifts, see A. Another was a list of numbers, with a couple of letters in the middle. Jane snapped a quick shot of both of them with her phone, which had a cracked screen but, mercifully, still worked. “Ayla?”

  Ayla joined her in the office “Yes?”

  “This note…is this a reference to having you handle the second phase of the crowd funding for the project?”

  “Yes.” Ayla assented.

  “Did you guys already talk about it?”

  “I think so.” She looked at the computers with those large, sad eyes.

  “Had you taken care of them yet?”

  “No. I was working on it…getting it together.” Ayla stiffened.

  “Was it time sensitive?”

  Ayla frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t remember…” She shook her head like she wanted to remove the cobwebs. “I guess. Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “What do you know about these numbers?” She pointed to the other Post-It.

  “Nothing. I don’t know anything.” Ayla slowly went back out. She wandered into Devon’s bedroom.

  “Is there anything in here? A calendar? Other notes?”

  Ayla lifted a faded blue hoodie from the edge of the bed and held it to her lips. She breathed deeply. “I just can’t believe he’s not here anymore.”

  Jane scanned the room. Nothing stood out. She opened the top drawer of his one dresser. White socks, white T-shirts, and boxers. She riffled through them, but nothing was hidden. “Do you think he felt like he was in any danger?”

  Ayla sat on the edge of his bed. “Maybe he always thought he was in danger. He was a complicated man.”

  Jane checked the next drawer. Polo shirts. “How had he mustered the courage to go to Alaska and fish?”

  “His parents made him at first, but he liked Alaska. Lots of privacy.”