Jane leaned in. “Between you, me and the wall, I’m a detective. I’m a detective on vacation, but something funny is going on around here, and it started with a body in my shed. So I’m asking questions.”
Hugh guffawed. “Detective, huh? You look plenty smart, so maybe you are. And you just made Paul’s day. No one else likes his idea that the stranger who roamed into town a couple of days before the kids all left was really a serial killer leaving a trail of corpses across the country.”
Jane grimaced. “I hope it’s not true, but it does make you wonder. Especially with everyone saying those guys were weird and gave them the heebie-jeebies.”
“Hey, Jane.” Jake came around the corner from the book stacks. “Check this out.” He held out his phone, open to email.
She took it and read.
It was from their home-brewing church organist friend Franny.
“So sorry to bother you while you are away. But I can’t remember which batch the beer I sent came from, and one batch is bad—over yeasty. It could give you the tummy yuckies. I feel just awful having to message you, but I don’t want you drinking it, if I can help it. Things just got a little confused around the house while I was at the hospital. My grandkids came over. Made a real mess of our beer. So, so sorry! I won’t bother you again. Your mom gave me your email. Blessings on your married life.”
Bad beer?
She didn’t personally have the “tummy yuckies,” but she had only sipped, since she had no interest in drinking the stuff. “Do you think this is what got Coco?” She kept her voice very low, hoping Hugh and Paul were at least a little deaf, but not counting on it.
“That would be some pretty bad tummy yuckies.”
“Please don’t try to make that part of our relational language.” Jane covered the phone. “Seriously. I’m not down with that.”
Jake grinned. “I think it’s already too late. By the way, how are you feeling…in your tummy. Any yuckies?”
“None. No gastronomical discomfort at all.”
“Which was wise.”
“Anyone else test the home brew?”
“Nope. Just you, me and Coco. I gave Mason the PBR and we still have three full bottles.”
“Would it be worth testing?”
“Not if by testing you mean me drinking it all and seeing if I get sick.”
Jane handed the phone back and stood up. “Shall we?”
Paul stopped her with a hand on her elbow. “If you’re in the mood for gossip, try Jackstays, a little bar on the canal side of Astoria. You’ll get all the gossip you want over there.”
“Thanks.” Jane followed Jake out, considering the idea. Astoria was right next door, technically. They could hit the bar and see what was up. But then, it was also a different town. Would they really keep up with Warrenton news? And if Jackstays was the kind of place Paul liked, would they be gossiping about half a dozen runaway teens?
They paused on the front porch of the library, the sea wind bracing.
“What next, Captain?” Jake asked.
“Well…” Jane scanned the horizon for the late morning sun. It was much too early to hit the bars. “It is our honeymoon…”
Later that afternoon Jane, Jake, Rocky and Flora met at Jackstays.
Expecting a hole in the wall with a grimy vinyl awning and some flashing neon signs, Jake almost drove past the little bistro. The vibe inside was classy. Well-polished wood floors, hip urban metal and wood chairs, paper-covered tables. In a quiet booth, over a plate of salmon and kale-slaw tacos and an icy glass of cranberry lemonade, Jane caught her mentors up on the local gossip and everything else besides.
“So you think you poisoned Coco with over-yeasty beer.” Rocky took a deep drink from his pint of stout. “It doesn’t really fit the symptoms.”
“On the other hand, alcohol poisoning would,” Flora said. “Maybe that one beer was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
A waiter with his hair in a long black braid hovered near their booth.
“Taylor certainly drank too much the night before. I guess it could be a common thing with those particular people.”
The waiter inched closer.
“I think I need to go see Daisy next.” Jane sipped her tart but surprisingly refreshing drink. “I just need a good reason. And her address.”
“What about this Hannah character?” Rocky asked. “I think she’s your next line of inquiry.”
Flora put her fork down. “I was thinking exactly the same thing.” She laid a hand on Rocky’s leather-jacket-clad arm. “As a puzzle piece, Hannah doesn’t fit in well. It’s easy to explain a road trip. It’s not easy to explain Hannah. If you can explain her, you will be well on your way to explaining everything.”
The waiter leaned in close to the table. “How’s everything doing for you?” He smiled, all teeth and crinkly eyes. Jane guessed he had no problems getting good tips.
“It’s delicious.” Jake threw his arm over Jane’s shoulder.
“Did I hear you mention Taylor and Coco?” He leaned on the table. “From over in Warrenton?”
Jane sipped her drink and nodded.
“Good friends of mine.”
“We met on the beach a couple of nights ago,” Jake said.
“I’ve known them forever. We went to school together.”
“Is Coco okay?” Jane asked.
He shook his head. “I think they’ll let her out later today. Definitely alcohol poisoning. Those two need to lay off the drink. Get out of town like their friends did.”
“Lots of kids move away after they graduate?” Jane picked at her taco to keep her hands busy. She didn’t want to mess this up. Paul had sent her here for a reason.
“If they can, but Cherry and those other girls were too young to move away yet.”
“But they did.” Jane lifted an eyebrow.
“They’ll be back by the time school starts. Those girls were all good girls. Not a rebel in the bunch.”
“What about Hannah? Was she a rebel?”
He frowned. “You heard about that?”
Jane shrugged lightly.
“She’s back, you know. Has been for a while, but hiding out. She’s crazy, I think. Wants people to think she’s in trouble or something. Tired of being overlooked all these years. My brother used to date her. She looks quiet, but she’s always been starving for attention.”
“You say she’s home, though?” Jane pushed her plate away and leaned in. “Sorry for being such a gossip, but the whole town is buzzing about the missing kids. It’s really caught my attention.”
He lowered his eyebrows and leaned in even closer. “I don’t blame you. A few girls are missing from Astoria, too, and Seaside. I mean, Cherry and her friends just skipped out, I’m sure. But what about all of the others? I think something bad is happening. And I think Hannah just wanted to look like she was a part of it. Otherwise, why isn’t she back at work?”
“But how do you know she’s home?”
“I don’t know for sure, but my brother said something the other day. Something that made me think she was.”
“What did he say?” Jane whispered.
The waiter shook his head. “It wouldn’t mean anything to you. But if you were really bored, you’d swing by her place and peek in the windows. Or ring the bell and pretend you’re a journalist. I’m sure she’d open the door if she thought it would get her media attention.”
Jane giggled. “Now that would be something I’ve never done on a vacation before. Where does she live?”
The waiter looked over his shoulder and then back to Jane. “That would be so wrong. I can’t tell you where Hannah Laing lives, even if she is listed in the yellow pages. That would be totally inappropriate of me.” He winked. “But if you happened to figure it out, and happened to go there and pretend to be a journalist, and happened to come back here for another lunch, you just might happen to get a plate of free starters.” He stood up and smiled. “Sometimes we have very good promoti
ons.”
Jane caught Flora’s eye. Flora did not look happy.
“Too bad you couldn’t direct us there. Could have been fun.” Jane lifted her drink and took a sip.
The waiter chuckled and walked away.
“So what’s his deal?” Jake asked. “Better tips for selling gossip or a blackmailer?”
“And how did Paul know we’d get that particular waiter?” Jane scanned the small bistro. Two waitresses leaned on tables, whispering to the guests. There were only four lunch servers that she could see. “Or is fresh, hot gossip always on the menu at Jackstays?”
“I don’t recommend pretending to be a journalist,” Flora said, her face a study in disapproval.
“Nope,” Rocky added. “If this Hannah is hungry for attention, she’ll be just as happy to talk to a private detective.”
CHAPTER 8
Hannah Laing’s townhouse was in a row of ten gabled numbers that were just two blocks from the beach. The roof was a bit mossy, but she had a planter with pretty rust-colored flowers at her doorstep. Being the middle unit, there was no easy way to peak in her windows, so Jane rang the bell and hoped. If Hannah was pretending to be kidnapped, there was no way she would answer the door.
Jane counted to sixty-two and rang it again.
Jake climbed the wooden rail and leaned over to look into the window. “Dishes in the sink. She’s home.”
“If she was kidnapped, she’d have dishes in the sink.”
“She wasn’t kidnapped.” Jake hopped down.
“What makes you so sure?”
The door opened.
A woman a couple of years older than them with a very red nose and red eyes, wearing a turquoise bathrobe, stared at them.
“Good afternoon. Hannah Laing?”
Hannah looked around them and then nodded, her lips forming a silent yes.
“We’re private investigators with SCoRI and were hoping to speak with you about some recent incidents in town.”
Hannah’s face paled, but she opened the door and ushered Jane and Jake in.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a raspy attempt at speech. “I’ve come down with something and just can’t speak much.” She held her hand over her mouth and coughed—like a dull saw on dry wood.
“May we come in?” Jane stepped forward, trying not to betray her fear of the cold germs.
Hannah led them into her living room. The room was sweltering—a gas fire glowed in the corner. Hannah was bundled up in sweaters and a bathrobe whose pockets were stuffed with Kleenex.
“We’ve heard you have information about where Cherry and her friends may have gone.” A light sweat was already breaking out on Jane’s forehead.
Hannah held one of her crumpled tissues to her mouth and rasped out another cough. “Who said?”
“Everybody.” Jake sat on the corduroy love seat and leaned forward. “It’s all over town that you followed them. Thing is, it’s not all over town that you’re home again.”
Jane sat next to Jake.
Hannah sank into a recliner. “I know a thing or two.” She pressed her hand to her eye. “This cold is killing me.”
“If you have the energy to help us, to explain a few things, we’d really appreciate it.” Jane bit her lip. Hannah didn’t seem like a weirdo, and if she’d been sick like this for a couple of weeks, no wonder she wasn’t at work.
“Who are you working for?” Hannah asked with great effort.
“We have a client.” Jane looked at Jake. He shrugged slightly. “A body was found in our shed. We also happen to be private investigators. We are our own clients.”
Hannah leaned forward, deep chest coughs racking her body.
When she had gotten ahold of herself, she asked, “What do you want from me?”
“When did you get so sick?” Jane turned the conversation, an idea nagging at her.
Hannah smiled. “Good question. Remember that rainstorm that hit us two weeks ago?”
Jane shook her head. She hadn’t been keeping up with weather on the coast.
“Big one. Very wet and cold. Not a good time to be lost in the woods.”
“How did you end up lost in the woods?”
Hannah had another fit of coughing. “I didn’t like what I saw with those cousins of the Smith girls.” She wiped her nose. “Cherry’s mom doesn’t talk about her past, but we’re a small town, so we do.” She paused to catch her breath. “Those cousins reminded me of something I had heard a long time ago. I may not have known them well, but after they hit the road, I had a really bad feeling. I tried to ignore it, but when I couldn’t shake it, I stayed up all night trying to place the thing those boys reminded me of.”
“Did you?”
She blew her nose. “Yes. But I thought I might be too late.”
“But what did they remind you of? What was wrong with them?” Jane leaned forward, trying to catch each of the half-voiced words Hannah was able to get out.
“Ever heard of Warren Jeffs?”
Jane tilted her head and thought about it. Familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“That Mormon guy with all the child wives,” Jake said.
“Not Mormon exactly, but you get the idea,” Hannah corrected. “The cousins reminded me of the kid I saw on this TV show…they interviewed him about how he got out of the cult. He had that same accent, like Wisconsin married Texas and invented a new language. Not like anyone else I’ve ever heard before.” She sat back and closed her eyes.
“Are you sure?” Jane asked. “It couldn’t have been something else?”
Hannah shook her head but didn’t answer.
“Can I make you a cup of tea?” Sympathy for the sick, misunderstood librarian poured over Jane.
Hannah shook her head again. “I’m sure I’m right. I listen. I pay attention. Everyone has always said something was weird about Daisy—the mom. When I looked at her from the idea she had escaped a cult, it all made sense.”
Jane let the words sink in. Cherry’s mom escaped a cult. Her cousins came to stay. They all disappeared again. Probably off to the cult to become child brides or something. “What do you think all of that has to do with Colorado? Or Arizona?” she asked.
Hannah smiled weakly. “Colorado City, Arizona, is where Warren Jeffs’s cult lives.”
“So that’s where they are.” Jane sat back, her heart heavy. What would make perfectly normal Oregon girls want to run off to join a cult? “And you decided to go get them? Even though they had a head start of a few days?”
Hannah sighed. “I called in my vacation time and hit the road. There was always a chance I could catch up to them. That many people in one car won’t go fast. And I was on my own. I thought I might be able to do it.”
“But how did you end up in the woods?”
This time Hannah leaned forward, her eyes narrow. “I saw one of the girls. Rose. I saw her in the woods. I pulled over and chased her.”
“Uh…”
Hannah doubled over in another vicious cough. When she was done, she stared at Jane with red, but cold eyes. “You don’t have to believe me. I know what I saw. I parked on the nearest shoulder and ran back to the spot where I had seen her. I called out her name and listened. I heard someone hiking, so I went after her. And I kept trying to find her until I was completely lost. Then it rained for two days while I tried to find my way back to my car.”
Jane scratched her head. “But this was a couple of weeks ago already. Why are you still hiding? How are you still sick?”
Hannah gritted her teeth. “I’m still sick because I have a compromised immune system. It’s the luck of antirejection drugs.”
“Ah.” Jane blushed.
“And I’m not hiding. I’m here at home. Just because no one else has come to see me doesn’t mean I’m hiding.”
“But being sick and compromised, you can’t run around or you will get worse.” Jake’s voice was both soothing and understanding.
Hannah relaxed back into her chair. “Exactly.
If I want to get over this someday, I have to stay home.”
“Do you think you could describe the place you saw Rose?” Jane rubbed her thumb on the arm of the love seat. Hannah’s story had been good all the way to seeing the missing girl in the woods. Then it went crazy. But she was very sick, that much had to be evidence that she had at least gotten caught in the rainstorm.
Hannah took some slow, deep breaths. When she was sure she wasn’t going to cough again, she answered, “Yes. If I had a map, I could find it.”
“Do you think maybe Rose ran away from the group and was trying to find her way back?”
“No.” Hannah was interrupted by another long cough. “I saw her right at the edge of the road. If she had wanted to go home, she would have kept to the road.”
“Unless maybe she was trying to follow the road and not be seen. Like maybe she was afraid of getting caught again.”
Hannah nodded. “Could be.” She yawned.
“Do you have any thoughts on the body in our shed?”
“They said it was a man?”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe one of the boys from the cult didn’t make it into the car.”
They sat in silence with the thought. If the cult, which Jane intended to read as much as she could about when she got home, was about child brides and stuff, then maybe they didn’t need any extra men. And if they didn’t, then the girls from Warrenton, and possibly the ones from Astoria and Seaside, really had run off with murderers.
Or had become murderers.
“Do we scour the woods for Rose or not?” Jake laced his fingers through Jane’s as they walked on the beach. “It’s a long shot, but what if we could find her?”
“Do you think our body is one of the three out-of-towners?”
“He might be, but how will we find out?”
Jane stopped. “Flora called the ME her friend. Let’s see what she found out.” She slipped her phone out and sent a text to her boss. “If the body has been identified and they have released the information to Flora, we’re a step ahead.”
“Sure, if they can release it. I think they have to notify next of kin first.”
Killer Honeymoon Page 6
