The Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 2

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  Maggie read both, turning her head from side to side, her eyes wide. “I see it.” Her words came out a quiet breath.

  “Right? An uncommon use of both ‘to’ as the go to comma splice and ‘beyond’ as the preferred preposition.”

  “You found a match?” Jane leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the screen, but neither were in eyesight.

  “It looks like it, but it couldn’t be.” Maggie passed the iPhone to Jane. The screen was open to a gaming blog.

  “Whose blog is this?”

  “Devon’s.”

  “But the post isn’t by him?” Jane asked.

  “No, it’s by an anonymous author,” Brenna said.

  Maggie bit her lip and stared into the distance.

  “But you know who the author is,” Jane said.

  Brenna tried to catch Maggie’s eye but failed.

  Margot came in, just as shaky as she had left, but this time with a tray of tea cups. “Here, girls, have some tea.” She set the tray down on the coffee table.

  “Do you think Devon could have been writing for Cascadia? Maybe he was the contact? He could have been pretending he had guest bloggers.” Jane tossed the idea out there though she didn’t like it herself.

  “Yes. That could be it.” Maggie was quick to answer.

  Jane doubted she meant it.

  “Can I ask you to keep looking? Keep reading the site? I think there might be someone else there…someone who had heard of Devon’s device and maybe donated.”

  “I getcha. I can do that.” Brenna passed the computer back to Jane.

  “Thanks.” Jane sipped her tea.

  Maggie and Brenna recognized the author of the Cascadia blog post but wouldn’t tell her who it was. Jane could always read more of Devon’s website and see if she could figure it out for herself. In the meantime, Brenna was happy to look over the blog posts for any other links between the insurer and the trolls. What else was there to do?

  “Have you heard anything yet from Kyle?” Margot looked at Jane over her teacup, her eyebrows lifted in hope.

  “No. I haven’t. I’m sorry. But I’ve been talking a little to Ayla, trying to find out what happened.”

  Brenna snorted.

  “Now, Brenna…”

  “It is okay, Mom.” Maggie patted her mom’s knee.

  She was tender with her family, Jane noted. And not at all the fire-breathing dragon she had been on the phone.

  “Brenna knows better. Ayla can’t help the way she is.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well she couldn’t, could she? Raised out in the wilderness with the motorcycle gang.”

  Maggie dropped her forehead into her hand. “Mom.”

  “What?”

  “The Fishes aren’t in a gang. They do ride, but they aren’t a gang.”

  “With all those tattoos?”

  Maggie sighed.

  “Did they come down for the wedding?”

  Maggie pressed her lips together. “No. Their plane is broken and they…”

  “They didn’t try hard enough. They could have gotten off their island if they had just asked for help.”

  “Probably so.” Maggie’s face was turning red from the neck up. “But what could I do about it?’

  “I bet they feel awful, stuck up there with Kyle missing.”

  Brenna snorted again.

  “I’m sure they do,” Maggie said.

  “You haven’t spoken to them?”

  “I have, but I can’t really… I don’t really…” She let out a slow breath. “I don’t really get them.”

  “They were relieved,” Brenna said. A cold hard fact. “Until they heard Kyle and Maggie had gotten married before the ceremony.”

  Maggie’s eyes flew open.

  “What?” Margot dropped her tea cup. It landed on the hardwood floor with a sharp crack. Tea spilled down the front of Margot’s khaki pants.

  “Mom, it’s not what you think.”

  Margot stood up, patting her pants. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Of course. It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing, but it was important to Kyle to have his editor perform the ceremony, and he’s not any kind of pastor or anything. Just a man he really respects. So we just did a civil ceremony first. We hadn’t…” Maggie blushed.

  “Oh!” Margot blushed.

  “We just got the legal stuff out of the way. The real wedding was the one you were going to be at.” If eyes could shoot daggers, Maggie’s would have, as she stared down her sister.

  “No, I see.” Margot backed towards the kitchen door. “That was silly of me. Of course you kids can do whatever you like.”

  “Did anyone else know about the legal ceremony?” Jane kept her voice level, calm. “Your dad? Or Devon? Anyone at all?”

  “Devon knew, of course. And Paul, who was doing the ceremony. And…my boss at the café did. But I wasn’t really telling anyone. The big wedding was the real one.” Maggie stood up and went to her mom. “I promise.”

  Margot looked at her daughter with sad eyes. “I believe you. It’s silly of me. I just wanted to be there, and I keep thinking that when he comes home, we will have the ceremony. And I will get to see you get married. But…you already are.” A little tear spilled from her eye.

  Maggie wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. “It wasn’t like that, Mom, honest. It wasn’t, and when he comes home…” This time a tear spilled out of Maggie’s eye, too.

  “Hmm…” Brenna interrupted again.... “This one sounds awful familiar.” She tapped the screen of the iPad, got up, and left.

  Jane wanted to follow her. And she wanted to wipe the spilled tea from the floor, and she wanted to leave to give the women privacy. So she did the last one.

  When she had buckled her own seatbelt, but before she started her car, she called her mom in Phoenix, just to say hello.

  It was late when she finally tucked herself into her apartment, and she was exhausted, but she had promised to call Jake, so she did. “Hey. Phoebe is going to be fine.”

  Jake exhaled, like he had been holding his breath since their last talk. “She’s not answering my calls. What happened?”

  “She got hit—hit and run—outside of my apartment. She knocked her head pretty hard against the curb, and the car actually crushed her ankle, or something. She says she doesn’t remember much—just hitting her head and then waking up in the ambulance. Any incoherence, or mixed messages you received from her were due to the pain medication.”

  “Does she know who called the ambulance for her?”

  “Ah…” That was a good question. Jane tucked her feet under a blanket on the couch. “I don’t think so. It didn’t really come up.”

  “She didn’t run into traffic or anything, right?”

  “Right. She seems to have her head on her shoulders.”

  “You said she was leaving your place? Why was she there?”

  “Returning some clothes. But you know she’s welcome to come over anytime. It would be good for us to be friends.”

  “Yes. Definitely. I couldn’t agree more. She just doesn’t head to your place often.”

  “True. But she did and she was the unfortunate victim of a horrible person.”

  “I’ll keep calling. One of these days she’ll answer her big brother.”

  “Of course she will. Especially because she thinks you will pay her bills for her.”

  “Harrumph.” There was a laugh behind his complaint.

  “In fact, we have a little bet on it.” Jane went on to explain the bet, and then the newest clues in the case.

  “You say that guy came to your place to threaten you?” Jake’s voice got deep all of a sudden.

  “I thought that’s what he was after, but he went to the SCoRI office pretty willingly. I think he was just trying to protect me.” She let herself relive his visit for a moment. No, it hadn’t felt like he was trying to protect her. Not until he had had plenty of time to think up an excuse.r />
  “You would agree that Phoebe and I don’t look anything alike, right?”

  “Right. You are a short, dark brunette with eyes that crinkle when you smile, and she is a leggy bottle blonde, right now, with eyes that sneer.”

  “Can eyes sneer?”

  “She has a foot on you in height.”

  “Only when she wears heels.”

  “Don’t spend too much time worrying. I’m not secretly in love with my sister.”

  “It wasn’t that, though now that you mention it…”

  “Ew.”

  “It’s just…what if the hit and run wasn’t an accident? What if someone was waiting at the curb to hit me? Like that Brad character. Or, if not him, what if that was the kind of thing Brad was intimating when he said murder was a dangerous thing?”

  Jake was silent.

  “Dumb idea. Sorry.”

  “I’m coming home first thing tomorrow.”

  “Don’t rush. No one was trying to kill me.”

  “Our work ended early. I’d like to say I was dropping everything to come to you, but I can’t. I’m thankful that we’re done earlier than expected. First thing tomorrow. Please, stay at my place. I’ll be a perfect gentleman, and Phoebe lives there anyway.”

  “And leave Gemma alone with a killer on the loose? No way.”

  “I’m not joking around. So this guy ran over my sister and damaged her ankle badly enough that she needed surgery. But he didn’t kill her. So he wasn’t going that fast. So your idea that he was lying in wait for you, or just someone you care about, is a solid theory.”

  Jane pulled her blanket up to her chin. “Oh.”

  “Gemma can come stay, too. The old Crawford homestead has plenty of bedrooms.”

  “I’ll ask her. She’s not in right now.”

  “I’d stay at your place to protect you, but I don’t want to get run over.”

  Jane laughed again. “It’s past midnight and I have a client in the morning.”

  “Go to sleep then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  It was all well and good to say go to sleep, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

  Chapter 14

  The idea that Phoebe had been run down by someone trying to get at Jane nagged at Jane well into the next day. When she finally made it to the SCoRI office, she shared her fear with Flora and Rocky.

  Rocky held a large mug in his strong, callused hands. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and looked at Flora.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Paranoia is one of the side effects of our work.”

  “On the other hand, that shifty Brad character did ambush her at her apartment.” Rocky locked eyes with his wife.

  “Very true. And I don’t think we got a true reading of his character.”

  Jane let out a breath she had been holding. “Maybe not even a true version of his story.”

  “That’s a given. Never trust a hostile witness’s first version of events.” Flora pressed a button on her phone. “Miranda, would you join us?”

  “Be right there.” The speaker on the phone squawked.

  “I think looking into the hit and run won’t hurt anything.” Flora folded her hands on her desk.

  “Is your friend all right?” Rocky asked.

  “Probably, but she hit her head, so we’re still kind of waiting.”

  Rocky grunted in sympathy. “I’ve done that a time or two.”

  Miranda popped in. “Yes?”

  “Hit and run, Phoebe Crawford. She’s at Good Sam. Hit her head. Doesn’t remember anything between getting hit and waking up in the ambulance. Find the witnesses. Get a description of the car and the driver.” Flora rattled off the directions.

  “Sure thing.” Miranda glanced at Jane, a bit of condescension in her eyes.

  “Would you like me to ride along?” Jane was itching to meet the connection that could get Miranda all of those details in a blink like that.

  “Not this time.” Flora pulled some paper out of a manila folder. “I have something else for you to do.”

  Jane attempted to bury her disappointment. That looked like paperwork, and paperwork was no fun.

  “This is a list of instructions. The insurance company didn’t accept our investigation as complete. The insurance claim is your primary concern, so this is what you need to focus on.”

  Jane eyed the list. It was long.

  “I know what you are thinking.” Flora chuckled. “It’s not as long as it looks. Go to each place listed, get a signed statement that Maggie and Kyle paid for the services.” She glanced down at the paper. “There are a few other items, but it shouldn’t take more than a day.” Flora passed the paper over.

  “Okay.” Jane glanced at the list. She had already proven the point with the copies of invoices, hadn’t she? Unless… “Do insurers usually want a signed statement versus copies of invoices?”

  Rocky worked his jaw thoughtfully. “It depends.”

  “We found that IP address, and Brenna is looking into some writing similarities that may lead to a connection between the insurer and the missing groom.”

  “Go on,” Flora said.

  “What if they are responsible for Kyle’s disappearance and so they are balking at paying out—perhaps they think not paying will cover their actions?”

  Flora sighed. “I expect the only way to prove that would be to provide a completely airtight case for paying the claim. Do that, and if they don’t approve the claim, we’ll discuss your theory.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Jane gripped the paper.

  Rocky patted her shoulder. “I bet you will.”

  “One more thing,” Flora said. “Run those last boxes to the zoo for me this evening, will you? We can’t make it out and they need it.”

  “What are they?” Jane asked.

  “Volunteer T-shirts.”

  “Oh.” Jane frowned.

  “Very few of our cases are particularly interesting. And most of them have to do with catching someone funneling money away from its intended purpose and into their own bank.”

  “It’s no problem. I can do it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Rocky stood up and hefted the boxes. “Let me put these in the car for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jane sat in her car and called every contact on the list before she drove off. No use running around if the person who could help her wasn’t in, or if the business was closed. She got verbal affirmations that they would all sign a statement, and a good time to pop by in the day, and then turned her attention to the last items on the list.

  The first was to connect with the pastor who had done their premarital counseling. He was also in, and welcomed her to come by right away. It didn’t seem to match up with the counseling place she had seen on the notes from Kyle’s car, but apparently it was what they had done.

  The church was an older mega church. The building reflected the 90s aesthetic that it was built around, and the pastor, though completely friendly, was clean cut and wore a sharp suit, like they did in the 90s. She couldn’t remember the last time her own scruffy pastor had worn a suit.

  “Have a seat.” He indicated a brown leather sofa across from his shiny mahogany desk. He rolled his chair out from behind his desk and sat across from her, his elbow resting on the arm of his chair. “We’ve been praying for Kyle every day.”

  “For the sake of their wedding insurance claim, I need to ask you a few questions about their premarital counseling.” Jane didn’t like that she sounded as though she was reading from a script, but it was too late. The formal atmosphere made her feel like she was in school, doing a report for the newspaper.

  “I’ll try to help, but it was confidential.”

  “Sure,” Jane said. “All I really need is a confirmation that they were invested in the process. Did they make it to all of their appointments? Were they active in their counseling? And did they pay you, if there was a financial cost involved?”

  “I can answer that one. The only cost I ask is f
or the couples to buy their own books, which they did.”

  “That’s something.”

  “But they had quite a few scheduling complications.”

  “Oh?” Jane’s pen hovered over her notebook.

  “So they only made it to about a third of their meetings.”

  “How many, exactly?”

  He shook his head sadly. “Two.”

  “Only two?”

  “They came to the first meeting, and the second, but they cancelled the last four.”

  “That’s not good.”

  He lifted his shoulder and dropped it. “I agree. I had them penciled in for meetings after their honeymoon, but I highly doubted they would come.”

  “Had they participated in the sessions while they were here?”

  “They were pretty closed the first meeting, and a week later, they hadn’t read their chapter.” The pastor had big eyes that were good at showing sorrow.

  Jane set her pencil on her notepad. “Maybe I’d better not mention any of this to the insurance company.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not a very good witness in favor of the couple. I can say that they were truly in love, and that, like so many young people, they thought love was enough and that the counseling was far from a priority, but I don’t think that counts as evidence where a big payout is concerned.”

  “But you would say that?”

  He sat quietly for a moment. “You know…now that I think about it, I couldn’t say it with confidence. They said they were in love, but their body language didn’t back them up. On the other hand, with only two meetings together, I don’t think I have enough evidence to say one way or the other.”

  “Does anyone else at this church have a closer relationship with them? A small group, perhaps?’

  “I’m sorry. We aren’t their home church, and no one here knows them well.”

  Jane had no reason to distrust the pastor, but she wondered in passing if he might not have the insurance company’s interests in mind. “So, if they don’t attend here, how did they end up coming to see you for counseling?”

  “A dear lady in our church suggested us to them.”

  “Hester Paige?” Jane tossed the name out, though she was as sure as she could be that she was right.