Good Clean Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 1)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  Of course Sam was late. Jane had almost anticipated that. But the landlord wasn’t there yet either. She recognized the few cars in the parking lot as her old neighbors.

  Jane was about to give up when she heard someone pulling into the parking lot. She turned and saw Sam in the muddy, lifted, Toyota. Sam had been having fun recently, if the amount of mud caked on the off-roading truck was any indication. As muddy as it was, at least she had brought the pickup.

  Sam joined Jane at the foot of the stairs to their apartment.

  “The landlord’s not here yet.” Jane looked at her watch.

  “Not a prob.”

  A short, skinny, young man with a shaven head and a black hoodie joined the girls. “Hey.” He tipped his chin to Jane.

  “Oh…hi.” Jane turned back to Sam. “Thanks for bringing help. How long do you think we have to wait to get in?”

  Sam laughed. She pointed at the door to their old place. “How’s now?”

  Jane turned to the door. The bald guy had already gotten it opened.

  “Let’s get your stuff and go.”

  Jane was torn. This was obviously breaking and entering. It was probably stealing as well, but if the landlord was coming to dump it all, it must be no big deal. She ran up the steps and followed Sam into the apartment.

  The lights were off. Jane flipped the switch a few times to no avail. She shivered. It was as cold in the apartment as it was outside. The apartment smelled stale, like dust and old appliances. She stared at the gray carpet. Had it smelled like that the whole time she had lived there?

  The bald guy lifted her futon mattress off the frame. Sam pulled down the curtains with a crack. The screws from the flimsy curtain rod left small holes in the sheetrock.

  “Hey, Jane, did you bring cash?” Sam rolled the curtains into a messy ball and tossed them to the door.

  The bald guy laid the futon mattress on the floor. He folded the futon frame and lifted it on his shoulders.

  Jane had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was pretty sure the landlord wasn’t coming.

  “Yeah.” Jane pulled her phone out of her pocket and toyed with the keys. “I did bring cash. How about I give it to you after we get my stuff stored?”

  The bald guy was already outside putting her bed frame in the back of the pickup. She stared at him from the window. How did a little guy like that get so strong?

  “How about when we all get back in the truck? It’s on empty and I need gas before I can take your stuff.”

  Jane’s miniature safe was sitting in the middle of the floor. It had been hidden under the futon before. “I’ll get your gas, no problem, but I’ll pay you the cash when we get my stuff stored.” She picked up the box and cradled it in her arms. She scanned the room. She wanted the small box and her bed. She wouldn’t feel like a thief if that was all she took.

  The bald guy came back up and grabbed the mattress. He began to drag it to the door. In an effort to save it from the asphalt, Jane set her box on the breakfast bar and picked up the other end.

  “I’m Jane.” The mattress, though heavy, wasn’t as bad as she had expected.

  “Hey.”

  They hefted the mattress on top of the bed frame in the back of the muddy truck.

  “Looks like rain.” Jane had a smear of dirt across her chest from leaning over the muddy truck bed.

  “We’d better get your stuff put away fast.” The bald guy still didn’t introduce himself. As soon as he had balanced the mattress on the bed frame he hoofed it back up the stairs.

  Jane followed him. Where was she going to take her stuff? She couldn’t keep it at the Crawfords’ house.

  She grabbed her ever ready phone and called her friend Sarah at Harvest.

  “Hey, Jane! Whassup?”

  “I need a huge favor. How much stuff are you allowed to have on campus?”

  “I dunno. What do you mean?”

  Jane stood at the breakfast bar in the small, cold, apartment. She traced the company logo on her lock box. “I mean, like, do you guys have storage there or something?”

  “Not really. What do you need to store?”

  “I finally got my stuff from the apartment and I need a place for my futon. I think everything else can come to the room I have, but it’s already got a bed.”

  “Oh that! That’s no biggy.” Sarah mumbled something away from the receiver. “We’ve got a really empty common room we can put it in.”

  “You can? The school won’t mind?” Jane let out a sign of relief.

  “Nah. Lila and Holly keep a mini fridge and a PlayStation out there, but there’s nowhere to sit. We’d all love to have your futon for a while.”

  “Great! Great, great, great!” Jane tapped her toes. It was a long drive to the school, but she was buying the gas so Sam had better not complain.

  “Hey, if you can get here in an hour you can catch Mr. Daniels before he leaves again.”

  “Isaac is there?” The news kept getting better and better.

  “Isaac is here.” Sarah’s sing-song voice didn’t ruin Jane’s good mood.

  “Well then, I’ll get there in an hour.”

  Jane ended the call.

  As soon as all of Jane’s limited belongings had been stuffed into a black trash bag she was ready to go. Jane grabbed her lock box on her way out.

  The bald guy had the screen.

  “Let’s leave right now. I’ve got to ride with you guys, okay?”

  Sam frowned. “That’ll be cozy.”

  Jane didn’t respond. She ran down the steps and climbed into the truck with the lock box on her lap. Sam took shotgun. She had shoved the trash bag into a free spot in the truck bed.

  Jane bought their gas with her emergency credit card. The freedom of having her safety net back made her heart soar.

  When they arrived at Harvest the bald guy toted all of the furniture up to the common room for Jane. Sam dumped the trash bag on the sidewalk in front of the dorm building.

  “Cash, Jane?”

  “Yes, just a sec. Are you splitting it with your friend?”

  “None of your business, is it?”

  “No, of course not.” Jane dug the envelope of cash she had made up for Sam out of her purse. Before she handed it over she took out the gas money.

  “Three hundred dollars?” Sam took the envelope from her.

  “Minus what I just put in your tank.”

  “Excuse me?” Sam gripped the envelope in her hand, her eyebrows pulled down.

  “You said you needed money for gas. I filled your tank with my card so I took it out of the cash.” Jane’s heart was racing again. Confrontation did that to her. Her cheeks were hot. Sam had spent most of a year’s rent on whatever it was she spent money on. Jane wasn’t going to let her clean out the rest of her hard-earned money.

  Someone put a hand on the small of Jane’s back.

  She jumped.

  “Sorry,” Isaac said, “didn’t mean to surprise you.” He didn’t remove his hand.

  Jane’s heart slowed to normal. A smile crept onto her previously angry face. “Isaac, this is Sam, the roommate I told you about.”

  “Ah.” Isaac used his “professor” voice. “Did I tell you yet that I talked to my dad, the judge? He thinks you have at least a small claims case on this.”

  Sam sniffed. “Whatever. She’s got her stuff.”

  “And you seem to have her money.” There was a tone in Isaac’s voice now that Jane hadn’t heard yet. It was serious. It also reminded her how little she knew him.

  “We made a deal, a’ight?” Sam flipped her stringy brown ponytail over her shoulder.

  “Like the deal where Jane paid you half of the rent so she could have a home?”

  Before Sam could respond the bald guy was at her side. “What’s going on?”

  Sam nodded her head in Isaac’s direction. “Someone’s got a problem with our deal.”

  “Oh yeah?” The bald guy cracked his knuckles.

  In her peripheral vi
sion, Jane saw her classmates gathering. She closed her eyes and prayed for wisdom and calm.

  “What’s the big deal? We moved her and she paid for gas.” The bald guy was looking over Isaac’s shoulder.

  Jane turned and saw the pastor of Harvest Bible Church, who was also the administrator of the school, standing in the front door.

  Sam’s face flushed red. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  “Do we still have a problem?” The bald guy’s eyes darted to the crowd gathering to his left.

  “Yes, we do still have a problem. Jane paid for the gas and gave Sam an envelope of money. Jane is really nice, but you and I can agree that since Sam spent all of Jane’s rent money, Jane doesn’t owe Sam anything for bringing her stuff here.”

  The bald guy looked at Sam. He snorted. “Idiot.” He snatched the envelope from Sam’s fist and tossed it at Jane’s feet. Then he grabbed Sam and dragged her back to the truck, muttering to her under his breath.

  The crowd of students laughed a little and dispersed in a ripple of horseplay.

  Isaac stooped down to pick up the envelope. “You are a very, very nice person, Jane.”

  “Mr. Daniels? Jane? I’d like to see you in my office.” The serious, pastoral voice of Pastor Barnes echoed in the tree-lined driveway.

  “Yes, sir.” Jane hated that tone of voice. Officious and doom-ridden. Nothing good could come from a meeting in Pastor Barnes’s office that started with that tone of voice.

  Isaac cocked an eyebrow at Jane. He took her hand and held it all the way into the office.

  Once in the office she dropped Isaac’s hand and laced her fingers together.

  “Take a seat, please.” Pastor Barnes’s voice was quieter, but just as low and serious. “Word has reached me, as administrator for Harvest School of the Bible, that there may be…inappropriate flirtation going on between the two of you.”

  “How do you define flirtation, sir?” Isaac asked.

  Jane’s mouth popped open. Isaac had his own pastoral voice.

  “May I remind you of your contract? This goes for both of you. Instructors at this Bible school are strictly forbidden from dating students.”

  Jane twisted her mouth. This wasn’t like Pastor Barnes. Sure, he was as straight-laced as physically possible, but he didn’t usually glower and boom like this. Whoever complained must have been important.

  “Have you called us into the office for flirtation or dating?”

  Had Isaac inherited his official tones from his father the judge?

  “Flirtation is in direct conflict with the spirit of the rules, Mr. Daniels. It is never appropriate for an adult instructor to instigate a romantic relationship with one of our teenage students.”

  Jane cleared her throat. “I will be twenty-one in April.”

  Pastor Barnes stared at Jane for a moment. “That’s right. You are a non-traditional student for this school.”

  Isaac smiled at Jane with a sparkle in his eyes. “Pastor Barnes, I’m only a year older than she is. How can our getting to know each other be against the spirit of the rule?”

  “Age is beside the point. When you accepted admittance to Harvest School of the Bible, young lady, you agreed to abide by the rules. You, in fact, agreed not to date at all while you lived on this campus. It’s a time-honored tradition at Harvest.”

  “Ah.” Isaac drew out the word with satisfaction. “If you recall, Jane doesn’t live on campus.”

  Pastor Barnes stood up. “Let’s not get cocky, Isaac. You signed a form stating you would not date students while you were our guest lecturer. Your conduct has been noted by several people and I have received complaints. End it now. Do you understand?”

  Jane’s jaw tightened. Two years. For two years she had abided by the rules of this little school, though she was a part-time, off-campus student. Graduation, if you could call it that, considering what she had recently learned about their loose curriculum standards, was just three months away.

  A wave of guilt washed over her. For two years she had been building relationships with the staff of the school and the church in hopes of having their future support as a missionary—both prayer support and financial, if possible. Had she thrown all of that away by accepting a date with Isaac? By having a conversation—a class related conversation—about a hurting family in need? She looked at the ground.

  “Yes, sir,” she said quietly. “I understand.”

  “You are both excused.”

  Jane walked back out to the parking lot without looking at Isaac.

  Sam and the bald guy were long gone.

  Jane picked up her trash bag of personal effects.

  Personal effects.

  She checked her watch. If she left for the Crawfords’ right this moment she would make it back in time to pick up Jake for their trip to the medical examiner’s office. She worked her jaw back and forth in an effort to keep from crying. At least she had the cash. She could pay for a taxi home. She patted her pocket but the reassuring crinkle of the envelope full of cash was missing.

  “Hey, it’s okay, Jane. Don’t let Barnes bother you.”

  Jane looked up at Isaac. His eyebrows were lifted in a warm, reassuring, way.

  “You didn’t happen to see what I did with that envelope, did you?”

  He held it out to her with a smile.

  Jane tried to take it nonchalantly.

  “I see your ride is gone. Can I give you a lift?”

  “Is that allowed?” Jane looked back at the church building.

  “It’s carpooling. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Jane had a fair amount of certainty in her heart that it was not the right thing to do, but it would save her the expense of a taxi.

  “You’re not going to get kicked out of Bible school for letting me drive you home. Don’t worry.”

  “What about you?” Jane asked as she clicked her seatbelt. “Could they dismiss you?”

  “I hope not.” Isaac pulled onto the open highway that led back to town. “I kind of need this job.”

  “I totally get it.” Jane stared at the passing fields of hops and wheat. The freshly planted earth was black with fertilizer and rain while the old vines were still brown from their winter. “So…you’re only twenty-two? How did you get this gig?”

  “My PhD advisor over at Western hooked me up.”

  “And how did you get a PhD advisor at your age?”

  “Home-schooling, of course. I finished everything early.” Isaac dropped one hand from the steering wheel and let it rest next to Jane’s. “But I’m not weird or antisocial.”

  “Of course not.”

  “What about you? Where did you go to school?”

  “Presbyterian Prep.” Jane let her fingers slowly connect with his until they were holding hands again. “But I’m not an elitist snob.”

  “Obviously not.”

  “So…about Saturday.”

  “Yeah.” Isaac didn’t sound happy.

  “We’d better put that off.” Jane looked at their fingers and smiled.

  “Reschedule?”

  “Indeed.”

  “When’s graduation?” Isaac squeezed her hand.

  “May 24th.”

  “Are you free May 25th?”

  “As it happens, Mr. Daniels, I am free May 25th.”

  “Then it’s a date.”

  Jane turned on the radio. Dancing on the Minefields was playing. The minefields analogy seemed entirely too appropriate.

  Once they hit town Jane directed Isaac to her old apartment so she could collect her Rabbit.

  “What’s this?” Isaac appraised the car, with his head tilted.

  “It’s a Rabbit. A Volkswagen.”

  “Ha, ha. What’s wrong with your tire?” He knelt down next her car and stuck a finger into a tire that looked very flat.

  “What?” Jane dropped down to take a closer look.

  “Someone slashed your tire.”

  Jane poked her finger into the deep gash. She pict
ured her mom saying, ‘I told you so.’ Getting a roommate from Craigslist had been a very bad idea. She checked the time on her phone. The morning had sped by. It was almost two hours later than she had wanted to leave for the Medical Examiner’s.

  “I bet I can guess who did it.” Jane’s stomach turned at the thought.

  “My first thought is your old roommate.”

  “My thought exactly.” Jane stood up and scanned the parking lot for people who might have seen something. She and Isaac were alone.

  “That’s just my first thought. My second thought is: how many people know you were the one who found the bodies?”

  “Bob and Marjory?”

  “Yeah. How many people know you found them, or know that you are involved with the family?”

  “I don’t know. The family. Some folks with the restaurant business. Who knows how far the word has spread.” Jane itched to put her spare tire on and get moving. She just needed Isaac to tell her how.

  “Have you run across anything you shouldn’t have? Any info that could make you unsafe?”

  “Not yet, but I’m supposed to go to the ME’s today and pick up their personal effects and the autopsy report with Jake. Do you think someone wants to keep us from seeing the report?”

  “Who knows you are picking it up?”

  “Jake and Marjory know we are going for the personal effects, but they’d hardly try and stop me, especially since Marjory is the one who told me to go. But I did talk about it last night at dinner…maybe the protestors at Roly Burger, or the staff heard me.”

  Jane explained the situation at the restaurant the night before and how the employees and the protesters could have listened in on her conversation with Jake.

  “I hate to sound paranoid. Call it the result of growing up with a legal family, but this could have been an attempt to keep you from finding out how the Crawfords died.”

  Jane swallowed hard. “Or, it could have just been a mad ex-roommate who wanted to get even with me for not giving her the cash.”

  “Yeah.” Isaac kicked a tire. “That’s most likely.”

  “So what do I do now? I hate to admit it, but I’ve never been in this position before. Do I have to make a police report?” Jane asked.

  “Well,” Isaac paused in thought, “we don’t have any evidence to indicate who might have done this. If I’ve learned anything from The Judge, it’s that you need evidence. Do you have a spare?”